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Title: Select Comic Tales. From the Best Authors.
Editor: Anonymous
Author [The Dean of Badajoz]: Blanchet, Franois (1707-1784)
Author [The Sailor]: Johnstone, Charles (ca.1719 - ca.1800)
Author [other stories]: Anonymous
Translator: Anonymous
Illustrator: Anonymous
Date of first publication: ca. 1808
Edition used as base for this ebook:
   Edinburgh: Oliver & Boyd, ca. 1808
   (first edition)
Date first posted: 26 June 2010
Date last updated: 26 June 2010
Project Gutenberg Canada ebook #560

This ebook was produced by:
Marcia Brooks, Ross Cooling
& the Online Distributed Proofreading Team
at http://www.pgdpcanada.net

This file was produced from images generously made available
by the Internet Archive/American Libraries




[Illustration: Nicolas Pedrosa and the Friars.]

SELECT

Comic Tales.

From the

BEST AUTHORS.

[Illustration]

    John Audley and the Ghost.
    Page 33.

EDINBURGH:

Published by Oliver & Boyd, Caledonian Press Netherbow.




CONTENTS.


    John Audley                   5

    The Sailor                   38

    The Dean of Badajoz          50

    The Slippers                 62

    Three Dexterous Thieves      80

    Nicolas Pedrosa              90

    Little Dominick             121

    Pervonte, or the Wishes     136

    The Vizier's Daughter       165

    Little Hunch-back           178

    The Horned Cock             200

    The Haunted Cellar          210




SELECT

_COMIC TALES._




JOHN AUDLEY.


John Audley was a good simple soul, a parish-clerk and a cobler, and
lived at Eccleston in Lancashire; where he had many years exercised
these respectable functions, entirely to his own satisfaction, and,
generally speaking, to the content of the good folks of the village. His
talents were held in much estimation by the lads and lasses in the
neighbourhood; he had assisted at most of the christenings, mended their
shoes, cut their valentines, pronounced Amen, and sung Arthur O'Bradley
at their weddings; and was famous for having himself, three several
times in his life, seen the Shrieking Woman, and the apparition of the
Murdered Tinker. He also told more stories of ghosts and hobgoblins than
any person in Eccleston, Dame Dickinson the midwife alone excepted.

John Audley's customers, like the houses of the parish where he lived,
lay scattered. He had been, on a winter evening, to carry home a pair of
mended shoes to farmer Down's; and was returning, by moonlight, half
petrified with fear, and endeavouring to whistle away from remembrance
the story of the Tall Woman in White, and her Headless Horse; when
suddenly a four-footed creature brushed by him, and a voice thundered
through his ears--_'Hey, Firetail! Firetail--Ah, sirrah! here, devil,
here!'_--'Lord have mercy upon me!' said John Audley, and again the
thing passed him, swift as dust blown by a whirlwind. John's legs were
exceedingly willing to run, but wanted the power, and therefore stopped.
His eyes were fixed upon two animals that he saw approaching; they
appeared of a frightful magnitude and figure: one of them walked
upright, and the other on all-fours; both had heads as rough as a
Russian bear, and both grew bigger and bigger as they drew near.

'In the name of the Father, Son, and--' 'Bow, wow!' replied Firetail,
cutting short John Audley's invocation,--'Ah, rascal! keep close,
devil!' said the upright apparition; and Firetail growled and retreated.
'Lord have mercy upon me!' again said John Audley, who imagined the
devil was only restrained for a moment, that he might return with
greater fury. 'How now, friend!' said Firetail's master, 'What, are you
at prayers in this place? What do you do down upon your
marrow-bones?'--'I charge you, in the name of God,' answered John, 'tell
me, be you a Christian, a ghost, or a devil?'--'Neither.'--'Wh-wh-what
are you, then?'--, A merry fellow, a traveller, and, moreover, a
story-teller.'--'And is not that an evil spirit by your side?'--'An evil
spirit!--What, Firetail?--A bottle-conjurer!'--'Lord preserve me!'--'A
calf's head and cabbage. Lie down, sirrah! Be quiet, dog's face!--You
would find him an evil spirit if I were to let him loose upon you,
perhaps.'--'I pray you, don't!--I pray you, don't!--My name's John
Audley--I am a poor harmless man, and a parish-clerk, and mortally
afraid of evil spirits.'

John Audley, by the arguments of the stranger, was half inclined, after
a deal of persuasion, to believe him real flesh and blood; that Firetail
was a rough Newfoundland dog; and that the hairy head of his master was
a shaggy goat-skin cap, made in a whimsical form; so that the eyes (that
is, eyes of glass) face, and horns, were preserved. Such an apparition,
at such a time, and in such a place, might have startled a stouter man
than John Audley: but though he began to suspect him not to be actually
the devil, he remained firmly persuaded he must be a conjuror at least;
and this opinion was confirmed, both by his head-dress, which exactly
tallied with John's ideas of a conjuror, and his sudden supernatural
appearance; as supernatural indeed it was to him, whose fear had
swallowed up his senses.

'And pray, Sir,' said John Audley, as they were jogging on together,
'What may your name be?'--'Andrew Errant.'--'And where be you going
to-night?'--As far as your house, friend; where, with your leave, I
intend to sup and sleep.'--John Audley's pulse again began to quicken;
he was afraid to say yes, but still more afraid to say no; he would have
told a lie, and said he had neither meat nor bed, had he not thought the
conjuror knew to the contrary, and would take some desperate revenge: at
last he stammered out, 'Yo-you-your worship shall be very welcome.'

Mr Errant was a very communicative person; and, as they walked along,
informed his companion, that he was of a merry, happy temper, loved
rambling, hated employment, and was blessed with a quick imagination,
and a good memory, by means of which he contrived to live; in short,
that he was, by trade, a story-teller; a trade formerly in great
request, but now grown obsolete, he being the only one who at present
lived by it professionally; not one word of all which John Audley
believed. Mr Errant added, that whether it was for the want of rivals,
or his own excellence, he could not absolutely determine; but that he
had been very successful in his attempts, and that he never visited a
family a second time who were not very glad to see him, and who did not
make a little feast to entertain him whenever he called. John Audley
understood by this, that the conjuror loved good eating and drinking;
and for once he was not mistaken.

Mr Errant continued giving farther traits of his talents and character;
such as, that he had a large assortment of stories, humorous,
marvellous, terrible, and tender; that he always studied the temper and
dispositions of his hearers before he began; and that the faculty he had
of suiting his history to his host, was, as he believed, the principal
cause of his success. 'You, now, honest John Audley,' said he, 'I am
sure, are very attentive to any tale of a ghost; and so, I warrant, is
your good wife.' John Audley blessed himself, 'How well he knows my
name! (He had forgot that he himself had told it.) He knows I have a
wife too, and knows--he knows every thing!' Such were John's silent
cogitations, when they arrived at his cottage.

John Audley's dwelling was snug, well thatched, and warm; the inside was
decorated with shelves, on which the white and well-scoured wooden
dishes and trenchers were placed in rows: beneath which were pasted King
Charles's Golden Rules, Death and the Lady, with various miraculous
histories of angels that appeared in white robes to ministers of the
gospel, and devils that carried away perjured lovers, Sabbath-breakers,
and blasphemers, in flashes of fire, to the astonishment and terror of
all beholders.

John Audley opened his door, winked to his wife Dorothy with significant
terror, and told her he had brought home a very honest gentleman, to
give him a bed for the night, and a bit of such meat as she had in the
house. Dorothy, who was not in the habit of paying implicit obedience to
her husband's mandates, was going to put in a caveat; and John, who knew
by her physiognomy she would not be nice in her choice of words, sidled
up to her and whispered in her ear--'Hold thy foolish tongue; do not be
curst'---'tis a conjuror!'--Dorothy had almost as great respect for, or
rather fear of, conjurors, as John Audley himself; her countenance
changed, she dropt a curtsey, placed a stool, cast a look at the cap and
the dog, trembled, and desired the gentleman would sit down, and drew
her countenance into a demure form.

'Thou hadst better kill the young cock, and boil him with a bit of
bacon,' said John. 'I will,' replied Dorothy! and went about it, though
it grieved her to the heart--she could have sold him for ninepence at
Prescot market.

She presently returned with the victim in her hand; telling John Audley,
as she entered, with an expressive look and emphasis, that she had not
the least difficulty in catching him, but that, on the contrary, he had
flown into her arms.

Although the talkative and frank disposition of Mr Errant was some
relief to the awakened fears of John and Dorothy, it could not make them
totally subside; and as fear is nearly related to cunning, it inspired
John with a thought, which he imagined would act like a charm in his
favour, supposing the conjuror should be inclined to be mischievous,
from the nature of such animals, which he believed to be exceedingly
probable. This was no other, than to reach down the bible, and sit upon
it; which John Audley effected with great slyness and dexterity. We have
before remarked, that John was of the Gentle Craft; and it is here
necessary to observe, that there was a ball of shoemaker's wax, which by
accident had been laid upon the bible, over which, being near the fire,
it had spread; and this, in his anxiety to cheat the devil, or (which is
much the same) the conjuror, John Audley had never noticed, but placed
it under next his breech, which being thus in contact with the bible, he
hoped might secure his body against the power of magic.

Mr Errant, whose profession in some measure implied a ready wit, and a
certain knowledge of the heart, observed the working of that powerful
sorceress Fancy upon the spirits of John and Dorothy, determined to
convert it to his own amusement. 'I will tell you the story of the
Bleeding Finger, good folks,' said he; 'it is very strange, and very
true: it will divert us while the pot is boiling, and I dare say you
will like to hear it.'


_The Story of the Bleeding Finger._

'There lived a magician in days of old, who had power over the winds and
waves; whose word could command the demons of the deep, and the spirits
of the air durst not disobey his will. This magician was held to be a
sociable, merry, good sort of person when pleased, considering he was a
magician; for, you must understand, conjurors, wizards, necromancers,
and magicians, are very tetchy and revengeful, and never fail to send
their imps and goblins, to torment such as affront or use them
disrespectfully.

'The name of this magician was Tomogorod, which signifies Eat-him-up;
and he had a daughter, called Holakaree, that is to say, Blood-sucker,
who was an enchantress. Whenever either of them went abroad, they had at
least one spirit to attend them, who was sometimes disguised in the form
of a bear, at others in a monkey or cat, and sometimes in the likeness
of a huge mastiff; mostly, for expedition's sake, they travelled through
the air, and then they were usually drawn by four flaming torches,
followed by fiends in the shape of tadpoles, who were so numerous, that
their swarms darkened the air.

'Tomogorod,' as I have said, 'was not much inclined to mischief, unless
provoked; but woe be to any one that affronted him! If he asked a
clownish fellow where he was going, and the lout returned a saucy
answer, he would fix him astride upon the next stile without the power
of moving, or turn him into a pitchfork, and give him his own shape
again when any body had stuck him up to the hilts in a dunghill. His
name denoted him to be a lover of good living, and he always behaved
civilly to such as gave him the best they had to eat.

'Holakaree, his daughter, who was of an ambitious temper, had the
wickedness to fall in love with the king's son, a youth of three and
twenty, of a sweet disposition, and the most charming person in the
world. His name was Dulimond, which means Dimple-face, and he was the
sole heir to the crown. It happened one day, while he was hunting, that
he saw the most beautiful blue hare run by him that eyes had ever
beheld, and he was so charmed with the appearance of that strange
animal, that he could not forbear leaving his other sport to follow this
new game. He presently lost sight of his courtiers and attendants; who,
as people often are, were more intent upon their diversion than their
duty.

'He followed the animal for more than half an hour; and being mounted
upon a swift Arabian courser, seemed every instant to be within a
hair's-breadth of catching her; when presently his eye was attracted, by
the descent of an eagle, that darted upon the hare, and rose with an
incredible swiftness, till they were both lost in the clouds. While the
prince stood gazing, and looking after the eagle and her prey, which
still remained like a speck upon his sight, the sky began to lower, the
heavens darkened, and the distant thunders rolled. The prince looked
round, but saw neither place of refuge nor human being. The storm
increased; the elements, with dreadful bursts, seemed to crack and split
over his very head; and the fires of the firmament darted their forked
and penetrating essence into the torn bosom of the earth. But what
astonished him most was, that though the waters appeared to stream from
the heavens on every side of him, not a hair of his head, nor a thread
of his garments, were wet. The heart of Dulimond was as the heart of a
lion; he was awed, but not dismayed.

'While his eyes were endeavouring to trace the uncertain path of the
life-snatching lightning, and his ears filled with the terrific tumults
of the sky, he beheld, not far above him, a bright cloud, that seemed in
the centre to be a lambent flame, and whence issued a voice loud and
impulsive, but sweet as music in dreams, which pronounced distinctly the
following words:

    "Beware of her with a Golden Thumb.
    Follow the Bleeding Finger.
    Plunge, fearless, into the Lake of Bitterness,
      to recover the white wand of Orophalis.
    Dangers encompass you: be virtuous, bold,
      and obedient; or you perish."

'The voice ceased, and the rain, and the thunder, and the lightning,
were no more; the sun was resplendent, the forest had vanished, and the
scene was changed. Vallies of a thousand different reviving shades of
green were seen on every side; aromatic shrubs, flowers, and various
trees, were scattered round, and distant lakes, and more distant
mountains, were in view.

'The prince, filled with wonder at all these strange accidents, was sunk
deep in reflection; insomuch, that his eyes were fixed, and his soul
absorbed by the cogitations of his mind; when he was awakened from his
trance by the voice of a lady, who sweetly and courteously demanded, if
he could direct her to the palace of the Seven Dragons. Dulimond
started, looked up, and was again fixed in astonishment. Never before
had he beheld such perfections, such grace, such features! Seated upon a
milk-white courser, with hair that descended in waving ringlets upon her
horse's back, and a face more beauteous than the face of Nature at the
sun's rising, this lady looked like a spirit of heaven, and not an
inhabitant of the earth. She was obliged to repeat her question; and the
prince, respectfully bowing, answered, he never before had heard of such
a palace. The lady gracefully inclined her head in token of thanks, and
passed swiftly forward; while the prince, ravished with the angelic
apparition, gave his steed the rein, kept within sight of her, and
forgot the scenes that had so lately happened.

'They rode that way for more than an hour, at a hard rate, when they
came to a vast forest. The prince, who had a piercing eye, beheld an
inscription as he was riding by the side of the forest; and stopping a
moment in hopes of learning some intelligence, whereby he might oblige
the lady, he read--

    "This leads to the Palace of the Seven Dragons."

'The prince immediately put spurs to his horse; and, gently calling
after the lady, beckoned her to return. She, who seemed to have
slackened her pace when Dulimond stopped, presently heard, and obeyed.
As she approached the prince, she thanked him with the most winning
words and action; whilst he, ravished with her charms and condescension,
prayed to be admitted to escort her to the palace. The lady again gave a
courteous reply, and they entered the forest together. They had not
proceeded far, before they lost all sight of the surrounding country,
and were buried in a gloom so thick, that light could scarcely
penetrate. As they rode on, strange noises saluted their ears;
sometimes, as it were, the faint groanings of the dying; at others, the
fierce howlings of wild beasts in torture; and then again like the
whizzing of sky-rockets, accompanied with loud, confused, and
innumerable shrieks and screams, as though the spirits of the air were
battling till the very elements were tormented. Visions, as strange as
the sounds they heard, likewise molested their journey: at one instant,
a head without a body would seem to dance backward before them,
sometimes with ghastly looks, and sometimes with grimaces, mewing at
them; at another, serpents, the bodies of which were black, their eyes
flaming, and their tales triply divided, with a sting at the end of
each, seemed to threaten the travellers: but, what was more remarkable,
an urchin, that lay in the path at the entrance of the forest, became a
ball of fire, and rolled itself along before them, as if to direct them
in the rout they should pursue.

'Dulimond was not more astonished at these things than at the behaviour
of the lady; who continued her way undismayed, and almost without
noticing such strange events, notwithstanding that the demons (for the
forest was enchanted) became more dreadfully terrible in their howls and
shrieks, and unnatural shapes, the farther they proceeded. However, if a
lady had the courage to go on, it was not for Dulimond to recede! It
almost appeared unmanly to draw his sabre; but from doing this it was
scarcely possible to refrain, so fearfully were they beset. Nor could
the dangers to which they were exposed hinder the prince from thinking
on his most beautiful companion with rapture. Her demeanour, her form,
her wit, and her fortitude, made him consider her as a miracle; and he
found his affections so totally enslaved, as to be absolutely
irretrievable. How could he forbear to admire, when he heard her only
utter some short exclamation at the moment that the fiends were most
horrible and insolent, and when he saw her turn and smile with ineffable
sweetness upon him, as it were to wish him not to fear or suffer on her
account? This he esteemed a noble generosity of soul; and he could not
but adore her who was capable of such heroic exertion.

'They came at length to the other side of the forest; and the urchin of
fire that accompanied them bounded from the earth, and gambolled in the
air with a thousand antic motions. Instead, however, of an open country,
they beheld a black rock, the front of which extended farther than
sight, and its summit lay beyond the clouds. As they approached it, they
read in huge and transparent characters,

    "This is the entrance to the Palace of the Seven Dragons."

"How," cried Dulimond, "this the entrance! Here is no entrance; this is
a vast and solid rock: a rock of marble; and all the powers of nature
cannot enter here!"

'The lady smiled, alighted nimbly from her horse, approached the place
of the inscription, and stretched forth her arm. She laid her _thumb_,
her Golden Thumb, upon the marble, when instantaneous thunder rolled,
and the massy front of the rock opened.

'Imagine what was the astonishment of Dulimond, and what his grief, when
he beheld this miracle performed by the Lady with the Golden Thumb! His
heart sunk in his bosom, and his arm fell nerveless by his side. Yet
this was no time for despondency; danger was before him, behind him, and
on every side of him; and the crisis of his fate drew on.

'The chasm of the rock had remained open some minutes, the prince stood
plunged in sorrowful suspense, and the lady seemed attending on his
coming. A voice proclaimed--

    "Let not such as would enter the Palace of the Seven
    Dragons linger, for the Rock of Sculls is about to close."

'At the same moment, Dulimond beheld a naked arm, with the fore-finger
slowly dropping blood, and pointing the way to the palace of the Seven
Dragons. The vision, though horrible, gave him pleasure; his heart was
with the lady; and he rejoiced that his duty furnished him with an
excuse to follow his inclinations.

'The prince had but just time to make the passage of the rock before it
shut; and had he been a moment later, it would have closed upon him;
which accident having happened to many, it was called the Rock of
Sculls. They proceeded onward till they came to a bridge, where lay the
Seven Dragons, whence the palace derived it's name. At their approach,
all these horrible monsters lashed their prodigious tails, opened their
destructive jaws (set all over with teeth like harrows), and projected
their long and forked tongues; and, with an insatiate fury, were flying
upon Dulimond. Mortal resistance to such enemies seemed vain, and death
inevitable; when, at the very instant they were about to seize on the
prince, the lady held forth the Golden Thumb, and they dropped senseless
to the earth in a profound sleep.

'They passed the bridge, and drew near to the palace, which was the most
superb that eyes ever beheld. Its magnitude and architecture filled the
mind with grandeur, and the richness of its ornaments dazzled the sight
to behold. They came at last to a place where the road divided; one way
went directly forward, and the other deviated to the left, which led to
the palace. On the confines of the latter stood troops of nymphs, whom
none could equal in beauty, the Lady with the Golden Thumb alone
excepted, and such as imagination only has seen. Some of them played on
instruments, the sound of which ravished the ear; others danced with
such delightful motion, as put mortal senses into a delirium of
pleasure. They were come to meet the lady and prince, and this way were
they proceeding, when Dulimond beheld the Bleeding Finger point the
contrary road. He stopped, he looked, he considered, his bosom heaved a
profound sigh, the war within him was strong, and his body was
motionless. The lady did not persuade him by words, she took a more
powerful method; her looks, sorrowful and dejected; her eyes, with all
the well-feigned grief of poverty, told him, that in him was all her
happiness centered; with him she should be blessed; without him
miserable. Neither did she remind him of the dangers to which he had
been exposed, and from which he had been preserved by her; therefore
Dulimond remembered them the more forcibly. His heart was enslaved by
her beauty, he could no longer resist her charms, and again he began to
follow her; when the air was filled with the most doleful wailings, and
the finger of the naked arm began to stream with blood.

'The heart of Dulimond was strongly virtuous: he had been nurtured in a
sublime morality. The remembrance of the firm resolutions he had so
often made, to persevere amidst all temptations in the paths of
rectitude and honour, came with a gleam of heroic ardour upon his mind,
elevated his soul, and made it equal to the glorious contest. He turned
his eyes from the witcheries of passion and pleasure, and, with a
determined spirit, followed the naked arm; the blood again more slowly
dropped; but the vast concave of the sky became tortured with shrieks,
cries, and howlings, so piercing, that distraction would have seized any
one of less virtue and courage than Dulimond.

'Undaunted did he follow his bleeding guide, though the fiends now
transformed themselves into ten thousand hideous shapes, and chattered
at, insulted, and assaulted him, with a hundred-fold more malignity and
fury, than they did in his passage through the inchanted forest. He came
at length to the Lake of Bitterness; but who can describe the dreadful,
horrible, and disgusting animals, by which its waters were guarded! On
the surface, vipers, water-snakes, and dun-coloured serpents, hissed
terror with their forked tongues. At the border lay toads, with starting
eyes and vast bloated bodies; their mouths just above the water, diving
sometimes beneath the slimy sedge, while the lake bubbled poison, and
again ascending to the water's edge. The bottom was covered over with
lizards, newts, and efts, darting upon their prey; reptiles, with
speckled bellies and a hundred legs, that shot swift as an arrow from a
bow, whither their voracity or malice willed; and spiders, so huge and
inflated, that the shagged hair of their bodies was like the bristles of
the hunted boar; and their eyes, globular and projecting, were as the
eyes of tigers watching whom they might devour.

'All these, and innumerable others for which nature has no likeness,
immediately, on the approach of Dulimond, ceased their obscene sports,
and rancorous wars, on one another; and, with their million of mouths,
came in voracious swarms, as if in expectation of their prey. Humanity
shuddered, and shrunk: it was a sight of horror.

'The naked arm, in the mean time, rested over the centre of the lake,
the finger ceased to bleed, and pointed downward. Thither the prince
cast his eye, and beheld the white wand of Orophalis; he stayed not to
consider on the danger; but quitted his steed, and threw himself,
fearless, into the Lake of Bitterness. His arm divided the waters; and
though his body seemed to be penetrated and torn by a host of these
devouring reptiles, he still had the power to proceed. He arrived at the
spot; and, unterrified, plunged to the bottom. The earth shook; the
heavens were on fire, and Nature seemed to groan, as though her end was
come. He seized the wand; and, lo! the lake was no more! He stood upon
dry land, his enemies were annihilated, and himself unhurt.

'While he stood considering these things, he heard a sound of a
multitude singing "Praises to the valorous Prince Dulimond, who hath
broken the charms of hell, and hath delivered us from the spells of
Holakaree." He turned, and saw coming towards him troops of knights and
ladies; and, at their head, a venerable old man, leading as he thought,
the Lady of the Golden Thumb.

"Fear not, valorous prince," said the aged knight; "your trials are
past, and your reward is come: this virgin is no enchantress."

'The happiness of Dulimond was extreme, when he was informed, that
Holakaree had assumed the beauteous form of Bellimante; that the vile
enchantress was now no more: that his valour and virtue had freed the
most angelic princess of the universe, her father, and many other noble
knights and ladies, who had fallen into her snares. In his transport, he
cast himself at Bellimante's feet, and kissed her virgin hand, which he
was in extacy to find was not now stigmatized by the Golden Thumb.

'As for the magician Tomogorod, he became disconsolate for the loss of
his daughter; and, some say, he now wanders over the face of the earth
without a settled habitation; and that he is always attended by one
faithful demon, that assists him in his wants, and revenges him upon his
enemies.

'So ends the tale of the Bleeding Finger.'

It is easy to imagine, what effect a story like this would have upon
John Audley and his dame Dorothy. Had not Mr Errant, who still was
attentive to the supper, occasionally interrupted his narrative, to
remind his hostess of the pot's boiling, the cock and bacon might have
cooked themselves for Dorothy. Blue hares, bleeding fingers, enchanted
forests, and the rest of the machinery, were things so amazing, so new,
and so true to them, that gaping astonishment, terror, and agitation,
possessed them wholly. And though our narrator could not so far degrade
his subject as to lower his language to their exact scale of
comprehension, yet his fine words, and figurative expressions, gave even
at the fire-side of John Audley, a certain dignity to his subject that
made it more wonderful.

It may be observed, too, with what art Mr Errant threw in touches,
which, though in themselves foreign, and of a heterogeneous nature to
the subject, served his purpose. Thus, though the magician was a
character inconsistent with and superfluous to the tale, he was not so
to Mr Errant. The insinuation, that he was attended by the devil in the
shape of a dog, was not lost upon John Audley; and the concluding
sentence, that again revived this circumstance in his memory, had its
due weight. In short, John's imagination had been led such a dance, and
was so much disturbed, that he could not be said precisely to know, if
he was sitting in a cottage, or in an enchanted castle.

Mr Errant had observed the incident of the bible, as well as the wax
that was attached to it; and waving his walking-stick in a circular and
grave manner, touched it, and demanded of John what it was he had under
him. John, who doubted whether the stick was a stick, or the wand of
Orophalis, replied, with a trembling voice--'The-the-the
bi-bible--bible, Sir,'--'The bible!--are you sure it is the bible--or
are you sure it is actually there?'--'I-I believe so, Sir,'--'Be so good
as to rise and come see.' John trembled, rose, and looked, but no bible
was there.--His hair would have lifted his hat off, had it been
on.--'The Lord of heaven bless me!' said John.--'Christ have mercy upon
me!'--'What is that fastened to thy--' said Dorothy. John clapped his
hand behind, and ejaculated--'The Lord pardon me, miserable sinner; I am
bewitched!' Mr Errant could not forbear laughing at John's distress: it
was truly ludicrous--John Audley was fully convinced he was now more
firmly married to the bible than ever he had been to Dorothy herself;
nay, and strange it may seem, he thought the last the worst match of the
two. To carry such a wen for life was not to be supported. John fell on
his knees--'I pray and beseech you, for the love of Heaven's mercy,
almighty goodness, and grace, Mr Conjurer, have pity on me--I am a poor,
innocent man; I never meant to offend your worship's goodness; indeed,
indeed, I never did!' John did not perform his part _solus_; Dorothy
prayed as fast as he; and Mr Errant, as soon as he could for laughing,
desired John to rise, and he would disenchant him; which office he
kindly and faithfully performed: and, after a few consolatory sentences,
which Mr Errant knew perfectly well how to adapt, he prevailed on his
simple, but kind hosts, to prepare for supper.

Had it not been for that powerful and universal disturber, Fear, it
would have been difficult to have found, in a like number of persons, a
more happy fire-side, or one round which there was more true content,
and native simplicity of heart. Even this very fear had something of
pleasure in it, and something enviable. It was a delirium of the soul,
to be at supper with an enchanter; to see a demon, in the form of a dog,
fixing his eyes upon them; and to suppose that, if the mighty conjuror
pleased, he could turn their cottage into a palace, or fly with them
through the air, escorted by an army of spirits, to the remotest parts
of the earth. There is a large portion of the sublime, even to
philosophy, in such ideas, notwithstanding their extravagance; but, to
the simple and believing soul, they form an incomprehensible world of
wonders, which, though dreadful, it delights to contemplate.

The present occasion could not fail to recall to the imagination of John
Audley his own adventures with the ghosts, and the stories he had heard
others relate. 'An't please you,' said John to Mr Errant, 'did you ever
see the Skreeking Woman?'--'No,'--'No! now I have seen her three
times.'--'And pray what kind of a lady is she?'--'Why, I'll tell your
honour. As I wur walking home one night from Thomas O'Wilkins, (I
remember Dame Dickinson had that very night been telling us a mort of
tales about ghosts;) and so, as I wur turning the corner of Roger
Fairley's barn, I saw, what I then thought to be a huge black cat; and
so it run towards the barn-door, and vanished. So, upon seeing it
vanish, I begun to bethink me; and, to tell you truth, I wur almost
afraid to go by the door where the huge black cat vanished. So I stood
still a bit to consider; and, as sure as you are alive, I thought I
smelt a smell o' brimstone. So, to tell you the truth, I began to be
mortagiously frightened and afraid! and so, as I wur standing there, I
heard the most woundy uproar, and squeaking and squalling, and
scampering, in the barn, that ever I heard sin' the hour I wur born. So
I bethought me, that this barn were certainly a meeting place for
witches and wizzards; and, what made it more likely, it wur Saturday
night, and the wind had just then begun to blow as thof heaven and earth
would come together; so that, what with the noise within and the noise
without, you never in all your life heard such a deadly din: I'm sure I
never did; except, indeed, the night that old Miser Gripegut died. Well,
as I tell you, there I stood, quite in a stound, and could neither stir
foot backward nor forward; and in a deadly taking, to be sure, I wur, as
you may well think: for you must know, it came into my mind, that they
might drag me into the barn and make a wizzard o' me, whether I would or
no; nay, and I do assure you, I saw an imp, in the very exact form of a
rat, that came out of the barn, and ran tow'rd me, as fierce as thof it
wur resolute to seize upon me: but, as Heaven would have it, I started,
and cried, "God bless me!" and it vanished. Well; and so as I wur
standing there, with my eye fixed upon the barn-door, for I durst no'
venture to turn my head the least in the world to the right or to the
left, all at once there wur a dead cold hand clapt to my cheek, and
something at the same time gave me such a whang on the back, that down I
fell, and I really thought there wur an end o' me. But, however, for
once it seems I wur more frightened than hurt, as I found afterwards,
when Dick Walter, or Dick Dare-devil, as he is called in our parish,
gave me his hand, and helped me up. You may be sure I wur not a little
pleased; so I told him the whole story of the Black Cat and the
clattering, and the devil's imp running at me to make a wizzard o' me,
and all; and so he pretended to laugh at me, and not to believe me, and
not to put no faith in such things; but that, as you may suppose, was
all pretence, for I am certain every body knows there is such things;
because, why, does not the bible tell us so? But Dick had a mind to seem
fasheous, and fear nothing; though, to be sure, Dick is as bold as a
lion, and as strong as a horse, and there is not a man in Lancashire
dare to face him fairly; but then, to be sure, he is deadly wicked and
prophane; and I have heard him challenge old Nick, if he durst appear.
And so I was so pleased to find Dick, that I would take him down to
Hal's at the bottom of the hill, and gi' him a mug of ale. So away we
went; and when we came there, we found Will Tipler, the drunken
shoemaker, along wi' Farmer Upton's tall Tom, who is six-foot seven
inches and a half without his shoes: and so Dick would be a pint to my
pint; and Will he wur another; and Tom wur another; and so on, till we
made it very late; and so you must know, my road home from Hal's lay
over the stile and gate, where the Skreeking Woman commonly sits; but
you must know by this time I had got a drop in my head, and then,
somehow or another, when one's in company wi' Dick, one never fears
nothing; and he is such a good-natured fellow too, when nobody puts upon
him, for he won't suffer no man to fash and affront any man that he is
in company wi'; so, as I tell you, I had to go over the Skreeking
Woman's stile; so as I did no' half like it, but wur got pot-valiant,
and would no' ask Dick to go wi' me, for I knew he'd game and laugh at
me. So away I set; and so, as I told you, a deadly windy night it wur;
so, as sure as can be, when I had got a bit from the house, I began to
feel a forethought, and to be partly sure that I should see her; and the
farther I went, the more I wur certain; and so I began heartily to wish
I had got Dick or some one to come wi' me: but that was all over; so
away I went wi' my heart in my mouth, as I may say, and I wish I may be
hanged if my hair did not stand an end every now and then wi' thinking
on't. Well; so, as I tell you, I kept going my gait a thisen till I came
almost wi' my nose upon the stile; but I should have told you, it wur
most mortagious dark, for the moon wur gone down, and the night wur as
black as pitch. I believe in my heart the heavens never sent out or saw
a more murky welkin; the sky wur like a bag of soot. So, as I tell you,
I had got wi' my very nose almost upon the stile, when all of a sudden I
saw her rise from behind the hedge, as it were, and place herself upon
the stile. Lord! how my knees knocked together! At first I had not the
power to move hand or limb; and I do think I stood for some minutes,
with no more life in me than an oyster; and then, when I came a little
to myself, my teeth chattered, and I dithered as thof I had been in an
ague: so what to do I did na know: for if I turned back she would walk
before me. So I bethought me it wur best to put my trust in my Maker,
and to say the Lord's prayer, and so go a bit lower down along the hedge
where there wur a gate. Well: will you believe me; as sure as I sit on
this stool, when I came to the gate, there wur she again. "The Lord of
heaven's goodness deliver me," thought I, "what will become o' me!" And
so, do you know, all the sins that ever I had committed began to come
into my head. I bethought me o' the five apples I had stolen when I went
to school with old Dame Trott o' Prescot; and of the bastard I had, by
half-witted Mall o' the Hill, before I wur four and twenty; and o' the
robin-red-breast I shot instead of a crow; and the silver-groat that I
found, the first year I was made clerk o' this parish, which I wickedly
spent at the fair instead of giving notice on't at the church-door, as I
ought to have done; and moreover, of having the very Sunday before
fallen asleep in sarmunt time, and what wur worser, when his reverence,
the vicar, wur in the pulpit, and not the curate; which his reverence
afterwards told me, in the vestry, wur breaking the commandments, and an
abomination to the Lord. So, as I tell you, I began to pray to the
gracious Providence of marcy, for deliverance and forgiveness of my
sins; for, to be sure, as I have told you, a wicked sinner I had been;
so, while as I wur here, in this most dismal and terrible
astoundification, some how or another, I found she wur vanished and
disappeared, and wur gone; so I then fell upon my knees, and thanked the
grace of heavenly goodness, and the Lord of hosts, and the Almighty
Maker of heaven and earth, and the God of Israel, for all his manifold
marciful loving-kindness to me a poor wicked and unworthy sinner; and so
I begun to put my trust in him; and so, seeing as I did not see her any
longer, I ventured by little and little tow'rd the gate; and so at last
I laid my hand upon't, and then one foot, and then t'other; and so at
last I got o' the other side o' the hedge, and so I wur fain to walk by
the hedge side for fear o' losing myself, it wur so mortagious dark, as
I tell you; and so, as I wur walking along, I thought I heard a
whispering o' t'other side o' the hedge; and I am not a Christian soul
in the land o' the living, if it wur not as like the whispering of men's
voices as my right-hand is to my left; and so my hair began to bristle
as bad almost as before, and I stopt; and so, when I stopt, the
whispering vanished; but I heard a mortagious running and a scampering,
and a clattering o' feet, o' t'other side o' the hedge, which I could
compare to nothing but a parcel of devils running a race towards the
stile; and, for all we know well enough that spirit's bodies are not
bodies, I'm sure they made as great a clattering as thof they had had
legs and feet of flesh and blood. Well; so I wur now, as I thought, o'
the right side o' the hedge, so I kept my gait till I came to the stile;
and seeing as I saw nothing of her there, I began to have some hopes
that she wur gone for good and all; so I set forward again tow'rd home,
and begun to bethink me that I had got something to talk about as long
as I lived; but will you believe me? I had not gone not half the field's
length, till I saw her again walking right before me! "The Lord of
heavenly blessedness defend me!" thought I; "what will become o' me!" I
stopt, and she stopt--I took heart and made two or three-steps--and so
did she. Never since I wur a sinner, wur I in such a quandary before!
What could I do? If a man is so fearful as to turn back, I had always
been told, she is so mischievous she will twine his neck round, mayhap,
or blight him i' the eyes, or somewhat like, as she struck Goody Hazel a
box o' the ear, and she has been deaf o' that side ever sin. So, as I
said, what could I do? Why, I prayed to the Lord, and thought I would
keep on my gait as long as she was that distance before me. I should
have told you, tho', she wur all in white, or else, as you may think, I
could no a' seen her; there wur not a sheet in all Lancashire whiter
than she; and at first she did na seem so high as my breast, and she
walked as thof she were partly lame, or crouching on the hams; and so I
had na followed her far, before she began to get higher and higher!--and
higher and higher!--and higher and higher!--till at last, Lord Almighty
bless me! she wur taller than any tree in Eccleston parish, or the next
to it, I am positive? Marcy's goodness be upon me, what a condition I
wur in! Well; and so, would you believe it? when she wur at the tallest,
she turned about, and gave such a stride tow'rds me! and a skreek! and,
as I suppose, vanished; for I dropped down as dead as this trencher; and
there, as Heaven's marcy would have it, wur found by Dick Walters and
Tall Tom; and so they, seeing me so frightened, (for I did na stir out
of my bed for a week) wanted to persuade me that it wur nowt but a trick
o' theirs to scare me; but, however, I wur na such a fool as to
believe'm, as you may well think, after what I had seen and heard.'

John Audley ended; and his looks, while relating, were sufficient to
convince the hearer what his sensations must have been, while his wicked
companions were playing him the trick he had just recounted. Mr Errant
had been much among the simple inhabitants of villages, and knew how
impossible it is to cure those who have once contracted the disease of
credulity: he knew too, there is in every district a Dick Dare-devil,
who diverts himself at the expense of those whose faculties or bodies
are not so robust as his own.




THE SAILOR.

_From Chrysal; or, the Adventures of a Guinea._


In one of the cells of the Inquisition, there was confined an English
seaman, who had been seized, and secretly conveyed thither, for some
disrespectful expressions against the divinity of St Dominick.

The manly, modest resolution, with which he had refused to own the
authority of their tribunal, and his firmness under the first torture,
marked him out to the Inquisitor as the person proper for his design of
escaping with the fair Ilissa; for he would not trust any one of his own
countrymen, not even his brother, whose treachery he abhorred.

As soon as he opened the door of his cell, the sailor, whose soreness
prevented his sleeping very sound, perceived him, and imagining it was a
summons to a repetition of the torture, he sprung up as far as his
chains would admit him, and cried, 'Hollo! who comes there?'--The
inquisitor advancing, answered, 'A friend.'--'Aye! damn all such
friends, (replied the sailor,) I suppose you are come to give me another
toasting; but if my hands were out of the bilboes, I'd send you off with
a salt eel for your supper.'

'Moderate your rage a moment, my friend; I come to set you free, if you
desire, and will deserve it.'--'Avaust hauling, brother! I do not
understand you!'--'Why, do not you desire to be free?'--'Desire! aye,
that I do! but I may whistle for that wind long enough before it will
blow.'--'Perhaps not; perhaps that wind, as you say, is nearer blowing
than you imagined: what would you do to be free?'--'Do! I'd burn the
Inquisition, and cut the inquisitor's throat! I'd do any thing but turn
papist, or fight against Old England.'--'Honest Briton! But suppose I
should set you free; would you serve me faithfully in one thing that is
neither against your country nor your religion?' 'Belay that, and I'll
warrant you, if I say it, I'll do it without more words. I'm no landsman
nor Portuguese.'--'Well then, I'll take your word, and so come with
me.'--'The sailor was surprised, he scarce knew whether he was asleep or
awake; however, as soon as the Inquisitor had unlocked his chains, he
shrugged his shoulders, and followed him without more questions.

When they were come into my master's apartment, he made the sailor sit
down, and giving him some wine to cheer his spirits, 'You are now at
liberty, my friend, (said he) without any farther condition, and may go
where you please; but if you will serve me in an affair I shall mention
to you, you shall have reason to think of this night with pleasure as
long as you live.'--'Serve you, master! (replied the sailor) that I
will! name but what you would have me do; that is, as I said before; you
understand me; and I'll do it; tho' it was to hand the
main-top-gallant-sail in a storm at midnight, when the yard was broke in
the slings, and it was not my watch, do you see; it would be but my
duty, and there is no merit in a man's doing his duty; I am no flincher,
I never say aye when I mean no: though I say it, I am a gentleman; my
father was lieutenant of a man of war, and I have been at sea these
five-and-thirty years, man and boy, and never once brought to the
gangway in all that time. If the noble captain, that rated me a
midshipman twenty years ago, had lived to be an admiral, I should have
been an officer before now.

The honest openness of heart, that appeared in the sailor's giving his
own character, made my master hear him with pleasure, and place an
entire confidence in him. As soon as he had finished, therefore, he
opened his scheme to him; and the sailor undertook to go to London, buy
a good ship, and freight her for Alexandria, and to call at Lisbon in
his way, and take my master and his friends on board; to do which, he
gave him money and jewels to a great amount; the latter he was to
dispose of in London, and account with the Inquisitor for the surplus,
after the purchase of the ship and cargo, which were to be his own, in
reward for his trouble, as soon as he had made this voyage.

All things being thus settled, the sailor was just departing, when, on a
sudden thought, he turned short on the Inquisitor; 'Steady, (said he)
steady; so far we go right before the wind, and all's well. But whom do
you mean to clap aboard me when I come? If it is the Pretender, or the
French king, here take back your trinkams; I'll be damned before I'll
help either of them to make his escape.'--'Never fear, my friend,
(replied the Inquisitor, scarce able to contain his laughing at the
strangeness of such a thought,) I promise you it is neither of these; I
promise you not to do any thing against your king or your
religion.--'But shall we not have one dash at this damned place? (added
the sailor) shall we not set it on fire, and cut the Inquisitor's
throat? I'll bring a set of jolly boys, that would shoot the gulph of
hell, to have a stroke at the Devil Dominick; shall we not set the
Inquisition on fire, and cut the Inquisitor's throat?'--'We will
consider about those things: but you had better lose no time; and let me
once more caution you, not to be seen in Lisbon at present; and to be as
expeditious as possible in your return.'--'Never fear, master; never
fear,' replied the sailor; and, shaking him heartily by the hand, away
he went.

I here quitted the service of the Inquisitor, being amongst the money
which he gave to the sailor.

My new master no sooner found himself at liberty, than he hasted away to
the seaside, without ever stopping to look behind him, and luckily
finding the packet just ready to sail, he was out of sight of Lisbon
before morning.

Never was a heart so intent upon executing a commission faithfully as
his; he thought of nothing else all the passage; and the moment he
arrived in London, he sold the jewels, bought a ship, manned her well,
and, having laid in a proper cargo, set sail for Lisbon, and was there
before his employer imagined he was arrived in London.

I had been an idle spectator of these transactions, for young Aminadab
had made such depradations on me, that no one in London would accept of
me at my original value; and my master's honour would not think of
parting with me for less, without acquainting the person from whom he
received me.--The moment he arrived in Lisbon he gave notice to his
friend, whose joy at his fidelity and expedition is not to be expressed.
He immediately had the treasures, which he designed to take with him,
conveyed secretly aboard; and as soon as the wind served, embarked
himself with his friends in the night, and obliged my master to sail
directly, though greatly to his dissatisfaction, because he would not
consent to his firing the prison of the Inquisition, and cutting the
Inquisitor's throat.

Heaven seemed to approve of the undertaking, sending a fair wind, which
soon carried us out of the fear of our enemies.

It is impossible to conceive an happier company than were now together;
nor did the blunt festivity of my master add a little to the pleasure of
their voyage, which met but one cloud that seemed at first to threaten a
good deal, but soon blew over.

When we were about half our voyage, my master entered the cabin hastily
one morning, and with a kind of fierce delight flashing in his eyes,
said to the Inquisitor, whom he always called owner, 'Well, owner, you
shall now see what English boys can do: there is a large Frenchman
bearing down upon us; but if you do not see him sheer off as short as if
he had got foul of a lee-shore; I will never take the helm again, if he
is not obliged to drop anchor to bring him up alongside of us; and as I
expected some such thing, I took out a letter of marque, so that you
need not fear being hanged for a pirate, if the worst should happen.

But delighted as my master was, his passengers did not seem so well
pleased with the news, especially his owner, who was not used to
fighting, and besides was too anxious for his escape with his fair
prize, to think of any thing with pleasure, which could possibly deprive
him of her.

They all, therefore, went directly upon the deck, and seeing the ship
really coming towards them, the Inquisitor went into the cabin that he
might not be observed by the men, and sending for my master, accosted
him thus; 'Surely, my friend, you cannot mean to wait for that ship,
(for we are lying to) she certainly means to attack you.'--'And so let
her, owner, (replied my master) I'll warrant she gets as good as she
brings.'--'But consider, my friend, (replied the Inquisitor) consider we
are on board you.'--'Well, owner, and what then? you are not afraid: the
lady may be stowed safe below! and you'll stand as good a chance as
another; you are not afraid.'--'My good friend, I have not time to
explain my reasons to you; but if you have any regard for me, you will
instantly crowd all the sail you can, and get clear of this affair; I
desire it; I beg it.'--'Why, look you, owner, what needs all these
words; if so be you order us, we must put about to be sure, for the ship
is yours; but then the honour of Old England, consider that; the honour
of Old England.'--'O my friend, I can consider nothing, but my desire to
avoid this danger; so once more I beg.'--'Enough said, enough said.'
Then going upon deck, 'Well, my lads, our owner does not chuse this
brush, while the lady is on board; so we must about ship; but as we come
back, Soup Maigre shall pay for it.'--And saying this, he obeyed the
desire of his owner as faithfully as if it had been his own, only not
with the same appearance of pleasure, not being able to avoid
ejaculating, damn fear, at every turn of the tune he whistled, as he
walked the deck the rest of the day.

He had so punctually observed his owner's instructions in getting a good
ship, that we were soon out of sight of the Frenchman; nor did we meet
with any thing disagreeable the remainder of the voyage.

The day after this affair, when they had all recovered their good
humour, my master addressed his owner thus--'Now, owner, while the sky
is clear, and we have nothing else to do, I had better give you an
account of your money. Here is the log-book, which you may overhaul at
your leisure, though the sooner the better. This is the time; there is
no taking a good observation in a storm, as may happen by and by; you'll
find all as fair as a new cable; but I must give you one point to direct
your reckoning by, and that is this; you bade me buy a ship, and freight
her, and so forth, and she and the cargo should be my own, after I had
done your job this trip. Now, owner, it is very true, that a less vessel
than this might have made the run; but then you seemed so desirous to be
safe, that I thought it best to take a bargain of this stout ship, which
I knew to be as good a sea-boat as ever turned to windward, and able to
go, hank for hank, with any thing that swims the sea, as we shewed when
we run the Frenchman out of sight yesterday; though it went against my
heart to do it; but no matter for that now; the ship is yours, and you
have a right to be obeyed. However, there is the account, and here is
the rest of your money, of which I did not lay out one shilling that I
could avoid, but one guinea, which I gave to my old messmate, Will
Crosstree, whom I met on Tower-hill in distress; and one I gave Black
Moll of Wapping to heave down; and I could not well avoid those either,
for Will was an old messmate, and I owed Moll for many a good turn in
her way; but all this signifies nothing to you; they can be stopped on
account; and here is a damned guinea too, that would not go; I believe
it has been in the hospital till it was fluxed off its legs.

'And now, owner, as you may think this ship costs too much, and that the
cargo is too good, I will not keep you to your bargain; she is your own,
and all that is in her, only pay the men; as for me, I am satisfied with
having got out of that damned Inquisition, and leave the rest to
yourself. If you think that I have deserved any thing, well and good; if
not, I do not fear bread, while the sea flows round Old England: all
that grieves me is, that you would not let us set fire to the
Inquisition, and cut the Inquisitor's throat.' If my master's bluntness
in the affair of the French ship gave offence to his owner, the honesty
of this speech restored him to his warmest esteem; and made Pheron, who
was present, cry out in rapture, 'Thank heaven, there is still some
honesty among mankind.'--'Honesty! aye, (replied my master) a little
among the tars of Old England! a little.'

The Inquisitor having by this time recovered from the astonishment, into
which such nobleness of soul threw him, returned the account unopened,
with these words: 'I am convinced your account must be just; and I
freely make you a gift, not of this ship and cargo, for they are justly
your own already, but of the rest of the money which is in your
hands.'--'What all, owner! all!'--'All, my friend; if it were as many
times so much, you justly merit it.'--'But then, owner, had not you
better sign the account if you please, for fear of after reckonings with
your executors; for I hate the law damnably, ever since I lost a year's
pay for hindering our boatswain's mate's brother to beat his wife. The
brimstone swore I beat her husband, and so I paid for meddling; but it
was the lawyer's fault that set her on. Damn all lawyers, say
I.'--'Well, then, my honest worthy friend, there is a receipt; and I
wish you success equal to your merit; and you cannot have
more.'--'Enough said, owner; enough said; I thank you; I thank you.'

The remainder of our voyage was one continued scene of happiness. My
master landed his passengers at Alexandria, from whence they soon set
out for Pheron's country; and at his taking leave of them, advised them
to be careful how they ventured in any of the ships of those countries,
which he assured them were not better than bum-boats, nor did their
mariners know any more of the sea than a Thames waterman.

Having finished this, his first business, he proceeded to dispose of his
cargo, for which he met so good a market, and made so profitable a
return from thence home, that as soon as he arrived, his landlady's
daughter at Gosport, whom he had been in love with for many years, but
never dared to speak so till now, readily consented to marry him. One
thing though I must not omit, and that was, that he kept a constant look
out all the voyage home, for the Frenchman whom he had fled from so sore
against his will; and was greatly concerned that he could not meet him,
to have a brush for the honour of Old England.

I did not remain with him to be a witness of his happiness; he gave me
to a Jew pedlar for a pair of fine sleeve buttons, to present to his
mistress the morning before his marriage.




THE DEAN OF BADAJOZ.

_BY THE ABBE BLANCHET._


The Dean of the Cathedral of Badajoz was more learned than all the
Doctors of Salamanca, Coimbra, and Alerla, united. He understood all
languages, living and dead, and was perfect master of every science,
divine and human; except that, unfortunately, he had no knowledge of
magic, and was inconsolable when he reflected on his ignorance in that
sublime art. He was told, that a very able magician resided in the
suburbs of Toledo, named Don Torribio. Immediately he saddled his mule,
departed for Toledo, and alighted at the door of no very superb
dwelling, the habitation of that great man.

Most reverend magician, said he, addressing himself to the sage, I am
the Dean of Badajoz. The learned men of Spain all allow me their
superior, but I am come to request from you a far greater honour; that
of becoming your pupil. Deign to initiate me in the mysteries of your
art, and doubt not but you shall receive a grateful acknowledgment,
suitable to the benefit conferred, and your own extraordinary merit.

Don Torribio was not very polite, though he valued himself on being
intimately connected with the best company in hell. He told the Dean he
was welcome to seek elsewhere for a master in magic; for that, for his
part, he was weary of an occupation which produced nothing but
compliments and promises, and that he would not dishonour the occult
sciences, by prostituting them to the ungrateful.

To the ungrateful! cried the dean; has then the great Don Torribio met
with persons who have proved ungrateful! and can he so far mistake me as
to rank me with such monsters? He then repeated all the maxims and
apophthegms which he had read on the subject of gratitude, and every
refined sentiment his memory could furnish.

In short, he talked so well, that the conjurer, after having considered
a moment, confessed he could refuse nothing to a man of such abilities,
and so ready at pertinent quotations. Jacintha, said he, calling to his
old woman, lay down two partridges to the fire; I hope my friend, the
dean, will do me the honour to sup with me to-night. At the same time he
takes him by the hand, and leads him into his cabinet; there, he touches
his forehead, muttering three mysterious words, which I must request the
reader not to forget, _Ortobolan_, _Pistafrier_, _Onagriouf_; then,
without further preparation, he began to explain, with all possible
perspicuity, the introductory elements of his profound science.

His new disciple listened with an attention which scarcely permitted him
to breathe; when, on a sudden, Jacintha enters, followed by a little
man, in monstrous boots, and covered with mud up to the neck, who
desired to speak with the dean on very important business.

This was the postilion of his uncle, the Bishop of Badajoz, who had been
sent express after him, and had galloped quite to Toledo, before he
could overtake him: he came to bring him information that, some hours
after his departure, his grace had been attacked by so violent an
apoplexy that the most terrible consequences were to be apprehended. The
dean heartily cursed (inwardly that is, and so as to occasion no
scandal) at once the disorder, the patient, and the courier, who had
certainly all three chosen the most impertinent time possible. He
dismissed the postillion, telling him to make haste back to Badajoz,
whether he would presently follow him: after which he returned to his
lesson, as if there were no such things as uncles or apoplexies.

A few days after, he again received news from Badajoz, but such as were
well worth hearing. The principal chanter and two old canons came to
inform the dean, that his uncle, the right reverend bishop, had been
taken to heaven to receive the reward of his piety; and that the
chapter, canonically assembled, had chosen him to fill the vacant
bishopric, and humbly requested he would console, by his presence, the
afflicted church of Badajoz, now become his spiritual bride.

Don Torribio, who was present at this harangue of the deputies,
endeavoured to derive advantage from what he had learned, and taking
aside the new bishop, after having paid him a well turned compliment on
his promotion, proceeded to inform him, that he had a son, named
Benjamin, possessed of much ingenuity and good inclination; but in whom
he had never perceived either taste or talent for the occult sciences;
he had, therefore, he said, advised him to turn his thoughts towards the
church, and had now, he thanked heaven, the satisfaction to hear him
commended, as one of the most deserving divines among all the clergy of
Toledo; he, therefore, took the liberty, most humbly, to request his
grace to bestow, on Don Benjamin, the deanery of Badajoz, which he could
not retain together with his bishopric.

I am very unfortunate, replied the prelate, apparently very much
embarrassed; you will, I hope, do me the justice to believe, that
nothing could give me so great a pleasure, as to oblige you in every
request. But, the truth is, I have a cousin, to whom I am heir, an old
ecclesiastic, who is good for nothing but to be a dean; and, if I do not
bestow on him this preferment, I must embroil myself with my family,
which would be far from agreeable. But, continued he, in an affectionate
manner, will you not accompany me to Badajoz? Can you be so cruel as to
forsake me just at the moment when it is in my power to be of service to
you? Be persuaded, my honoured master; we will go together: think of
nothing but the improvement of your pupil, and leave me to provide for
Don Benjamin; nor doubt but, sooner or latter, I will do more for him
than you expect. A paltry deanery, in the remotest part of Estremadura,
is not a benefice suitable to the son of such a man as yourself.

The canon law would, no doubt, have construed this offer of the
prelate's into simony. The proposal, however, was accepted: nor was any
scruple made by either of these two very intelligent persons. Don
Torribio followed his illustrious pupil to Badajoz, where he had an
elegant apartment assigned him in the episcopal palace, and was treated
with the utmost respect by all the diocese, as the favourite of his
grace, and a kind of Grand Vicar.

Under the tuition of so able a master, the Bishop of Badajoz made a
rapid progress in the occult sciences. At first, he gave himself up to
them with an ardour which might appear excessive; but this intemperance
grew by degrees more moderate; and he pursued them with so much
prudence, that his magical studies never interfered with the duties of
his diocese. He was well convinced of the truth of a maxim, very
important to be remembered by ecclesiastics, whether addicted to
sorcery, or only philosophers and admirers of literature, that it is not
sufficient to assist at learned nocturnal meetings, or adorn the mind
with the embelishments of human science, but that it is also the duty of
divines, to point out to others the way to heaven, and plant, in the
minds of their hearers, wholesome doctrine and Christian morality.

Regulating his conduct by these commendable principles, the learned
prelate was celebrated throughout Christendom, for his merit and piety;
and promoted, when he least expected such an honour, to the
Archbishopric of Compostella.

The people and clergy of Badajoz lamented, as may be supposed, an event
by which they were deprived of so worthy a pastor; and the canons of the
cathedral, to testify their respect, unanimously conferred on him the
right of nominating his successor.

Don Torribio did not neglect so alluring an opportunity to provide for
his son. He requested the bishopric of the new archbishop, and was
refused with all imaginable politeness. He had, he said, the greatest
veneration for his old master, and was both sorry and ashamed, it was
not in his power to grant a thing which appeared so mere a trifle; but,
in fact, Don Ferdinand de Lara, constable of Castile, had asked this
same bishopric for his natural son; and, though he had never seen that
nobleman, he had, he said, some secret, important, and, what was more,
very ancient obligations to him. It was therefore, an indispensable duty
to prefer an old benefactor to a new one; but that he ought not to be
discouraged at this proof of his justice, as he might learn, by that,
what he had to expect when his turn arrived; which it certainly would be
the very first opportunity.

This anecdote, concerning the ancient obligations of the archbishop, the
magician had the goodness to believe; and rejoiced, as much as he was
able, that his interests were sacrificed to those of Don Ferdinand.

Nothing therefore was thought of, but preparations for their departure
to Compostella, where they were now to reside. Though these were
scarcely worth the trouble, considering the short time they were
destined to remain there; for, at the end of a few months, one of the
pope's chamberlains arrived, who brought the archbishop a cardinal's
cap, with an epistle, conceived in the most respectful terms, in which
his holiness invited him to assist, by his counsel, in the government of
the Christian world; permitting him, at the same time, to dispose of his
mitre in favour of whom he pleased.

Don Torribio was not at Compostella when the courier of the holy father
arrived. He had been to see his son, who still continued a priest, in a
small parish, at Toledo; but he presently returned, and was not put to
the trouble of asking for the vacant archbishopric. The prelate ran out
to meet him with open arms.

My dear master, said he, I have two pieces of good news to relate at
once. Your disciple is created a cardinal, and your son shall--shortly
be advanced to the same dignity. I had intended, in the mean time, to
have bestowed on him the archbishopric of Compostella; but,
unfortunately for him, or rather for me, my mother, whom we left at
Badajoz, has, during your absence, written to me a cruel letter, by
which all my measures have been disconcerted. She will not be pacified,
unless I appoint for my successor the archdeacon of my former church,
Don Pablos de Salaza, her intimate friend and confessor; she tells me,
it will occasion her death, if she should not be able to obtain
preferment for her dear father in God; and I have no doubt but what she
says is true. Imagine yourself in my place, my dear master--shall I be
the death of my mother?

Don Torribio was not a person who would incite, or urge his friend to be
guilty of parricide; nor did he indulge himself in the least resentment
against the mother of the prelate.

To say the truth, however, this mother he talked off was a good kind of
a woman, nearly superannuated, who lived quietly with her cat and
maid-servant, and scarcely knew the name of her confessor. Was it
likely, then, that she had procured Don Pablos his archbishopric? Was it
not far more probable, that he was indebted for it to a Gallician lady,
his cousin, a young widow, at once devout and handsome, in whose Company
his grace, the archbishop, had frequently been edified, during his
residence at Compostella? Be it as it may, Don Torribio followed his
eminence to Rome. Scarcely had he arrived in that city before the Pope
died. It is easy to imagine the consequence of this event. The conclave
met. All the voices of the sacred college were unanimous in favour of
the Spanish cardinal. Behold him, therefore, Pope!

Immediately after the ceremonies of his exaltation, Don Torribio,
admitted to a secret audience, wept with joy, while he kissed the feet
of his dear pupil, whom he saw fill with so much dignity the pontifical
throne. He modestly represented his long and faithful services: He
reminded his holiness of his promises; those inviolable promises which
he had renewed, before he entered the conclave; hinted at the hat which
he had quitted, on receiving the tiara; but, instead of demanding that
hat for Don Benjamin, he finished, with most exemplary moderation, by
renouncing every ambitious hope. He and his son, he said, would both
esteem themselves too happy, if his holiness would bestow on them,
together with his benediction, the smallest temporal benefit. Such as an
annuity for life, sufficient for the few wants of an ecclesiastic and a
philosopher.

During this harangue, the sovereign pontiff considered within himself
how to dispose of his preceptor. He reflected that he was no longer very
necessary; that he already knew more of magic than was sufficient for a
pope; that it must be highly improper for him to appear at the nocturnal
assemblies of sorcerers, and assist at their indecent ceremonies. After
weighing every circumstance, his holiness concluded, that Don Torribio
was, only a useless and a troublesome dependant; and, this point
decided, he was no longer in doubt what answer to return. Accordingly he
replied in the following words: "We have learned, with concern, that,
under the pretext of cultivating the occult sciences, you maintain a
horrible intercourse with the spirit of darkness and deceit, therefore
we exhort you, as a father, to expiate your crime, by a repentance
proportionable to its enormity. Moreover, we enjoin you to depart from
the territories of the church, within three days, under pain of being
delivered over to the secular arm, and its merciless flames."

Don Torribio, without being disconcerted, immediately repeated aloud the
three mysterious words, which the reader was desired to remember; and,
going to the window, cried out, with all his force, Jacintha, you need
spit but one partridge, for my friend the dean, will not sup here
to-night. This was a thunderbolt to the imaginary pope: he immediately
recovered from a kind of trance, into which he had been thrown by the
three magic words when they were first pronounced, and perceived that,
instead of being in the vatican, he was still at Toledo, in the closet
of Don Torribio, and saw, by the clock, it was not yet a complete hour
since he first entered the fatal cabinet, where he had been entertained
with such pleasant dreams. In that short time, he had imagined himself a
magician, a bishop, an archbishop, a cardinal, a pope, and, at last,
found he was only a dupe, and a knave. All was illusion, except the
proofs he had given of his deceitfulness, and evil heart. He instantly
departed, without speaking a word, and, finding his mule where he had
left her, returned to Badajoz, without having made the smallest progress
in the sublime science in which he had proposed to become an adept.




THE SLIPPERS.


Bakarak, though a miser, was one of the richest merchants in Bagdad.
Camels, laden with the most valuable productions of the east, constantly
arrived at his warehouses, and the ocean wafted vessels to the harbour,
but to increase his wealth; yet he had a treasure in his possession
still more desirable than his ivory or his pearls; it was the enchanting
Zelica, his only child, who, scarcely fifteen, and blooming like a Houri
of Paradise, far outshone them all; but though so sweet a blossom, no
one had yet proved sufficiently interesting to wind himself around her
heart.

Going one morning to mosque, attended by her black slave only, an aged
female, bending beneath the weight of years, murmured an entreaty for
alms; while searching for a purse that was suspended at her girdle, she
unintentionally let her veil drop aside, and as, with a benevolent smile
beaming on her countenance, she was giving the supplicant a zechin, her
eye caught a youth ardently gazing at her from a balcony above. An
instant warned her of her negligence: hastily replacing her veil, and a
deep blush suffusing her cheek, she proceeded, taking the heart of the
handsome Karabeg with her, though not leaving him to bewail the loss,
for, seizing his cloak, (so much had the momentary sight of her
beauties, to which the action she was engaged in had imparted an
additional lustre, inflamed him) he swiftly followed, keeping, however,
at a distance, on account of the attendant. He saw her enter the mosque,
and pressed forward; but the number of persons were too great to permit
him to procure a place near her; however, he fixed his eyes on her, and
followed her every movement, hoping his trouble would be rewarded by a
kind look; but being deeply engaged in her devotion, she did not appear
to regard him. Before the conclusion of prayers, he arose, and
stationing himself at the grand entrance, waited for her; many people
passed, and he began to be impatient--'Why,' he muttered to himself,
'should I be so foolish? I know her not; nay, perhaps I shall never see
her again.'--The idea made him involuntarily sigh--he was angry at
it--'Psha! I'll not suffer myself to be a captive by the glance of every
bright eye--I'll be gone.'--He felt inclined to put his threat into
execution--advanced a few steps--faltered--turned around--and all his
resolutions fled, for Zelica again appeared;--with a salute of the head,
he made way to let her pass, but in passing her hand touched his; the
touch shot like fire through his veins--he trembled--she sighed.--_'O
that sigh!'_ thought he, and she seemed to hesitate; but, at that
moment, the envious black was behind, and they proceeded. Karabeg again
followed--in turning the street, a troop of janizaries were galloping
towards the seraglio; a courser curvetted, plunged, and had nearly
thrown his rider. Karabeg darted forward, for Zelica uttered a faint
shriek, and was running back--'Be not alarmed, lady,' he exclaimed, 'I
will protect you with my life.' He coloured for having expressed himself
with such an emphasis--Zelica trembled too much either to answer or
thank him--the black frowned--'My good fellow,' continued Karabeg,
perceiving it, 'I surely know your face, Mesroud!'--'Ah, master,' cried
Mesroud, ''tis you then--I thought so, and am quite happy!'--'You know,
Mesroud, Sir?' faintly articulated Zelica.--'He once belonged to my
father, did you not?'--'Yes, Sir, yes; _he_ beat me--but you--oh how
good, how kind _you_ was!'--The little tumult the horse had occasioned
was now over, and the troops passed on; but as the black had a friend,
there was no opposition to Karabeg's accompanying Zelica further, they
soon became intimate: and when they parted, each felt the pleasure of
the other's company too much not to regret it. Already Zelica knew
Karabeg's history; his father was the Cadi, and he--_her lover_. They
had arrived at a portico; Karabeg was entering,--'Hold, master,' cried
Mesroud: 'Lady, you forget _your father_!' It was enough--again Zelica
sighed, and removing her veil, _intentionally now_, her eyes beamed hope
on Karabeg's passion, while her lips thanked him for his
gallantry!--They had both vanished, yet he remained some time on the
spot, expecting, though Zelica might not re-appear, to see Mesroud, but
in vain.

The house in which Bakarak resided, was situated on the banks of the
river. This Karabeg soon discovered: he rowed beneath the windows, and
breathing in his flute, played a Turkish serenade. For once, however,
his art was thrown away, all was silent; the air had once pleased him,
but as it had failed to produce the intended effect, he now thought it
dull, and throwing aside the instrument, he took part of the muslin
which composed his turban, and rolling it into a body, cast it against a
casement on the second story, trusting to chance for arousing the right
person. He blest his lucky stars, for the fair Zelica soon appeared;
but, alas! his pleasure lasted not long, as she motioned him to be gone.
'Oh, sweet Zelica, I cannot live in your absence.'--'You can't, hey!'
cried a voice, 'then you must die in her presence, for if you stay
disturbing people with your nonsense, you will certainly be killed.'
'Twas Bakarak at a lower casement who said this, and Karabeg now
comprehended why his mistress warned him away. 'Oh, Sir,' said he, 'if
you knew me better.' 'By Mohammed! but it strikes me I know you pretty
well already. Are not you the son of old Mustapha the Cadi, who had me
punished for throwing a slipper at him?' (Now the truth was, Bakarak had
one night been breaking the laws of the prophet, by indulging in a
little wine, which caused such a revolution in his head, not the
strongest at any time, that seeing Mustapha pass, in his way home, he
must needs quarrel with him, and giving him a _gentle_ salutation on the
cheek with his slipper, wounded him so deeply, that he was under the
necessity of giving Mustapha a sum of money to compromise the affair,
as, had a trial ensued, and Bakarak's frailty been made public, no power
could have protected him from the consequences of such a heinous crime.)
'You may tell him,' continued Bakarak, 'he cheated me out of my money,
for his head is too thick for my slipper to have had the effect he
represented, and at the same time take this console yourself,--When your
father complained against me, he no doubt hoped _my slipper_ would prove
_my ruin_; now, when his hopes are _really_ fulfilled, you shall have my
daughter, and not before, by all the hairs that grace our prophet's
beard!--So, set off directly, or dread a slipper at _your_ head
too.'--'Were you not the parent of so sweet a maid,' answered Karabeg,
'you should repent your threats.'--'By Alla! that reminds me; I had
forgotten she is still in the balcony. Girl, go to your chamber
instantly: a pretty thing for you to encourage this impudent fellow.
Have you no shame on your father's account?--To make assignations by
moonlight: do you not dread its beams?--To talk openly with a man too!
are you not afraid of the prophet's vengeance!' 'Indeed, father,' said
Zelica, beseechingly, 'the young man is so kind, so respectful; it was
but this morning he preserved my life; nor on my honour have I spoke to
him since.' 'But I dare say, if you've not spoken, you have made signs.
Oh! you jade, I warrant you've not been wicked for want of means! Women
have a thousand tricks at their finger's ends. I dare say you could
contrive, on an emergency, to give this dog a signal of your love, by
your veil, or your handkerchief.' Bakarak little knew how apt a pupil he
had; still less did he suspect his precepts would have been so readily
put in execution. The hint was certainly not a bad one, and true love
soon caught at it. Taking the muslin Karabeg had thrown, which had
caught in the iron work that inclosed the window, she put it to her
lips, and folding it over her bosom, formed it in a knot over her left
breast. Hearing her father, who, being below, had not perceived the
action (though Karabeg's eyes were not so unwatchful) again repeated his
command for her to retire, she left the balcony, motioning her lover
away; who, kissing his hand, bowed in token of assent. Happily assured
that Zelica did not hate him, he thought little of her father's enmity;
but feeling perfectly pleased with the events of the evening, he seated
himself in his bark, and soon lost sight of the mansion of Bakarak,
though the whole scene again passed before him in his dreams, and in
imagination he a second time beheld his Zelica assure him of her
affection.

When a night's repose had cooled Karabeg's ideas, he began to consider,
that Zelica's love could not conduct him to the temple of happiness,
while those cursed slippers crossed the path. At sun-rise he paid his
duty to his father, who, far from appearing enraged, when he frankly
avowed his attachment, promised, that if his son should surmount
Bakarak's dislike, he would not prove an obstacle to his felicity.

As Karabeg was returning home the preceding evening, a man had dropped
lifeless in the streets, and not being known, was carried to the Cadi's
house. A thought struck Karabeg, and going where the deceased lay, he
took his slippers and placed them in his girdle.

The beams of the morning sun had scarce gilded the spires and minarets
of the city, when Karabeg again sought the place that contained all his
hopes and wishes. Though he waited long in the street, as it was early
he did not fear being discovered. At length the door of Bakarak's house
opened; he skipped behind the pillar of a large portico opposite, and
anxiously fixed his eyes on it. Bakarak came out, and took the way to
the public baths; Karabeg softly followed, and when Bakarak entered, he
also went in, though concealing himself from observation. The old man,
as was the custom, left his slippers at the entrance; _these_ Karabeg
quickly seized, and replacing them with _those_ he had brought, soon
regained his father's house.

When Bakarak left the bath, he in vain sought for his slippers; but
seeing a pair so much handsomer in their place, (for, owing to his
miserly disposition, the weight of his own had been increased by some
few patches) went home contented with the exchange. In the course of the
morning he was not a little surprised, when a troop of guards surrounded
his doors, and demanded to conduct him instantly to the Hall of Justice.
In vain he inquired their orders, expostulated, prayed, demanded; they
forced him along, and he soon found himself in the presence of old
Mustapha, the Cadi, and the judges of the city. Doubting whether he was
well awake, he stared in astonishment; but his fear was increased, when
accused of having murdered a man in the public streets; his teeth
chattered, and he could not answer. At last, however, he gained breath
to deny the charge, though in no very coherent manner. As a proof of
guilt, his _slippers_, which had been found on the dead man's person,
were produced. Bakarak cursed in his soul both the slippers, and those
who held them; many declared having seen them in the court before, and
the Cadi still remembered the weight of one of them on his cheek.

Those Bakarak had on were next examined: he was asked how he came by
them? he explained his adventure at the baths that morning, and was
laughed at. He was half mad with rage. The deceased had since been
owned, and his brother came forward and declared, that the slippers
Bakarak then wore were the _murdered_ man's. He now really trembled for
his life. 'How,' said the Cadi, 'could a man who was found dead in the
streets last night, go to the public baths this morning, and change a
pair of slippers?' The case was clear; Bakarak had equivocated, and was
guilty; all appeared lost, when a young man stepped forward and begged
to be heard. Bakarak could not believe his eyes--it was Karabeg! He
swore that at the time the man was found _murdered_, Bakarak had been in
his own house. The old man breathed again. Assistance from whence he so
little expected it almost overcame him. Karabeg therefore declared
Bakarak was not the _murderer_. Bakarak seized his hand: he said more,
that the murdered man was not murdered. Bakarak took him eagerly in his
arms and hugged him. An examination ensued; no wounds appeared; and it
was discovered by the surgeons, that the man had dropped down in a fit.
Bakarak was acquitted on paying all the charges, and of course was happy
to get off so well; for, on the first appearance of the affair, a
coincedence of event seemed to forbode his destruction. The unfortunate
slippers were delivered to him, and he returned home. All the way he
went, he thought of what had passed; had it not been for Karabeg he
probably would have lost his life; he felt almost inclined to bestow his
daughter on the young man. But, when seated in his library, the affair
assumed a different appearance; he examined every circumstance coolly,
and began to suspect the truth. This irritated him more than ever
against Karabeg, and cursing him and the slippers, he vented his rage in
execrations. 'I see it all,' he exclaimed; 'I foolishly said, that when
these confounded slippers proved my ruin, he should have Zelica, and it
is thus the wicked dog wants to cheat me out of her; but by Mahommed he
shall be baffled.' The library overhung the river; the casement was
thrown up to admit the breeze; the slippers lay before him: Bakarak felt
determined; he seized them in a frenzy, and cast them into the waters.
"Thank heaven," ejaculated he, "I am now safe." The action had rather
cooled him, and by night he was calm enough to give pretty loud symptoms
that the events of the day had not disturbed his repose.

When Bakarak arose in the morning, he went as usual into his library;
but who can conceive his astonishment, when he beheld the _slippers_ lay
before him? "Surely," he cried, gasping for breath, "some evil spirit
must possess them, am I awake? I am certain yesterday's sun beamed on
them in the river; it is incredible! but what is this smell?" He turned
round, for the slippers had done more mischief than he at first
imagined. The truth was, some fishermen came early that morning under
Bakarak's windows, to draw their nets, and finding them heavy, conceived
they had a good draught; but, in searching, all they discovered were the
_slippers;_ in a rage they jerked them away, and Bakarak's casement
unfortunately happened to be the only one open, in they went, and
striking a jar of odour of roses, for which the merchant had paid a
large sum the day before, the force of the slippers broke it, and half
the liquid had scented the floor. Bakarak, when he beheld the accident,
fell on his knees: 'Oh Mahommed, deliver me of these slippers, or I
shall indeed be ruined.' He called his slaves, to save what they could
of the perfume, and rushing out, felt determined to get rid of his
_curse_. He came to the sewer, which carried off the filth of the town;
'no fisherman shall drag ye out again now,' said he, as he threw the
slippers in.

Karabeg, who had been watching that morning, saw Bakarak go out, and
waiting till he was out of sight, boldly knocked at the door. Mesroud
opened it: 'Ah, master,' cried he, my lady will be glad to see you
again.' 'Will your lady be glad, Mesroud? you enchant me; conduct me to
her instantly.' 'But then, if old Bakarak should return.' 'Never mind
old Bakarak;' and Karabeg had nearly pushed him down, so anxious was he
to make use of the opportunity. They were soon together, and the minutes
flew away too fast. Zelica informed him of her father's rage being
increased, and his suspicions, which he could not help uttering in her
presence. Karabeg cursed his penetration. Mesroud, who had retired to
watch for his master, in a short time warned him of his approach; but
how Karabeg could escape without being perceived was a doubt. While they
were debating, Bakarak arrived in the street, and no longer could they
hesitate. The lover soon decorated himself in one of Mesroud's vests,
and disguising his face as much as the time would permit, he passed off
as dumb. Bakarak asked many questions, the pretended brother undertook
to answer, and eyed Karabeg so closely that he almost thought the old
man suspected.

Though all went on pretty well, Zelica and Mesroud felt confused, while
Karabeg often wished himself out of the house. Bakarak had not broken
his fast that morning, and the agitations of his spirits had almost
thrown him into a fever; he unfortunately felt his appetite craving its
usual allowance. "Mesroud," said he, "I wish you would go and order some
fruit and ices to eat with my breakfast; they will be cooling." "I'll
go, brother," quickly answered Karabeg, thinking 'twould be an
opportunity to escape. "What," cried Bakarak, "the dumb opens his mouth
at the mention of eating! this is a miracle I do not understand." The
trio were now in a pretty situation, through the imprudence of the
lover; however, as he found that a discovery must ensue, he put the best
face he could on the affair, and rubbed off the cork. But nothing could
pacify Bakarak, who threatened, if he did not directly leave the house,
the bastinado should force him. As for poor Mesroud, he would have been
happy to escape on the same terms, but was actually regalled with the
punishment promised; he consoled himself, however, with the hopes of
revenge at some future period.

Two days had passed, and Karabeg had not dared to make another attempt
at seeing his mistress, when the whole city were alarmed by a stoppage
of the water that supplied their houses; in vain the reason was inquired
into, no one could solve the wonder, and at last it was deemed most
advisable to examine the grand reservoir. After some labour and much
expense, they broke open the works, and the cause of the stoppage was
found to be--Bakarak's _slippers_. When he heard of it, his rage almost
threw him into convulsions. 'Some genie, or some devil, possesses them
to work my woe,' exclaimed he. He soon received a summons to appear, and
it was demanded how he dared attempt such a treason to the state as
closing the pipes. Bursting with vexation, he repeated what he had done
to _make away_ with the slippers, (though they had proved so diabolical,
he almost feared _that_ might cause a charge of murder to be brought
against him) the breaking the perfume jar, and the putting them in the
sewer, from whence they had been carried into the public reservoir. The
judges felt inclined to laugh at his misfortunes; however, as the damage
was unintentional, he was allowed to go, on repaying the treasury what
it had cost them in pulling down and rebuilding. He scarcely found his
way home, so stung was he by resentment, and so mortified by the loss of
his money. He muttered, as he went along, 'Karabeg shall not have my
daughter, though heaven seems to predict it.' His mishaps had made him
more obstinate than ever, and when he arrived, Zelica was so much
frightened at his appearance, that she retired in dismay to her chamber.
He ordered a large fire to be prepared instantly, and throwing the
slippers in, 'At last,' said he, 'I'm determined to see ye no more; when
I cast you in the river, ye were fished out again; when I put you in the
sewer, ye made the whole town suffer; but I'll defy any one to relieve
ye now!' The _slippers_ seemed as obstinate as Bakarak in giving him the
lie, for the leather had imbibed the moisture to such a degree, that
they would not burn. Bakarak found his anger useless, and that he must
give up the idea of consuming them, till dry: a lead extended over the
portico of the house, and placing them there he ejaculated, 'I see I
must be plagued with ye some time longer, but I shall bless the hour the
sun has sufficiently hardened ye, that I may commit ye to the flames
again: and, by Alla! when ye are destroyed, I will give a public
rejoicing!'

The vexations Bakarak had endured, had prevented his visiting the
mosque:--he now determined to go, and throwing on his cloak, went out;
but as fortune, or rather fate, would have it, as he passed the
threshold, the _slippers_, by some means, fell from the leads, and came
tumbling on his head. Though the blow had confused his ideas a little,
he managed to look up, hoping to find out who had done it, and saw a cat
running along. He took the slippers from the ground, and sent them, one
after another, at the animal's head; however, he missed his aim, and
they went in at one of the windows. He was beginning to curse, and
re-entered the house to stop the blood which issued from his nose, when
a loud shriek pierced his ears; not knowing the reason, he ran quickly
up to his daughter's chamber, and beheld her on the floor, with the
slippers by her. She had fainted, and while Bakarak called her slaves,
he attempted to revive her; but finding it in vain, began to tremble.
'Oh, merciful Alla,' cried he, 'protect your faithful Mussulman, and let
not my daughter's blood sink on this head.' The attendants had now come,
but their endeavours were also vain to bring Zelica to life; though no
wound appeared, the cursed slippers had certainly struck her somewhere
on the head; and Mesroud _consoled_ his master, by repeated exclamations
that she was _murdered_. 'You cruel man!' said he, 'it serves you
properly; had you but united my poor, dear, beautiful _dead_ mistress,
to the man she loved, all would have been well: to be sure you did
swear, that when those slippers ruined you, their marriage should take
place, and though that has happened, (_for ruined he certainly is who
kills his own daughter_), yet, alas! 'tis of no avail.'--Drops of
perspiration stood on Bakarak's brow, his joints trembled, and he fell
on his knees. 'Oh Mahommed, restore my Zelica, and I vow, by all my
hopes of Paradise, since 'tis clearly your wish, that I will no longer
oppose her union with Karabeg, the Cadi's son.' He arose. 'Oh! those
cursed, cursed slippers, they have indeed proved my ruin, and I find
'tis impious to war against fate.' Zelica _now_ began to recover, though
slowly, (for know, gentle reader, though apparently dead, she was as
much alive as you who honour these pages by a perusal, and my only fear
is, that their contents may not have made you so merry as her father's
vow made her): thinking it unnecessary to feign longer, she, in a short
time, was perfectly revived, to Bakarak's great joy, who did not suspect
the trick practised on him; for though, when Zelica saw the slippers
enter her window, she was not touched by them, an idea struck her, that
answered her purpose equally well. Bakarak's vow had been heard by
Mesroud and the rest of the slaves, so that an attempt to deny would
have been fruitless; he therefore sent for old Mustapha, who was too
good a man to object to a reconciliation, and had his son's happiness
too much at heart, to find obstacles to the proposed union. He soon
prepared the necessary papers; nor had he reason to complain of his
friend Bakarak, whose miserly disposition the late events had completely
turned; and who, having promised to give a public rejoicing whenever he
got rid of his _slippers_, performed his promise on the day that he saw
the lovers united; for Karabeg joyfully accepted them as a remembrance
of the means by which his marriage had been brought about, and, what was
wonderful, long as he lived to enjoy the beautiful Zelica, he never
beheld them but with gratitude, for the blessing they had been the
humble instruments of Providence in bestowing on him.




THREE DEXTEROUS THIEVES.


Three rogues, in the vicinage of Lan, uniting the ingenuity of their
talents, had, for a considerable time, put both monks and laymen under
contribution. Two of them were brothers; their names Hamet and Berard.
Their father, who had followed the same profession, had just finished
his career at the gallows. The name of the third was Travers. They never
robbed or murdered; but only pursued the business of pilfering and
kidnapping; in which they arrived to an astonishing degree of ingenuity.

As they were walking together one day in the wood of Lan, and talking of
their several feats of dexterity, Hamet, the eldest of the two brothers,
espied, at the top of a tree, a magpie's nest, and saw the mother fly
into it. "Brother," said he to Berard, "what would you say to a person
that should propose to go and take the eggs from under that bird without
alarming it?" "I should tell him," answered the younger brother, "that
he was a fool, and proposed a thing impossible to be done." "Well, learn
my friend, that he who cannot accomplish so practicable a theft, is but
a booby in his profession. Observe me." This said, he immediately climbs
the tree. Having reached the nest, he makes a hole in it underneath,
receives softly in his hands the eggs, as they slip through the opening,
and brings them down, desiring his companions to observe that not a
single egg was broken. "By my soul," cries Berard, "I must allow you to
be an incomparable thief; but if you would go and replace the eggs under
the mother, as quietly as you have taken them from her, we shall
acknowledge you our master."

Hamet accepts the challenge, and again mounts the tree: but his brother
designed a trick upon him. The latter, as soon as he sees the other at a
certain height, says to Travers, "You have just been a witness to
Hamet's dexterity; you shall now see what I can do in the same way." He
instantly climbs the tree, and follows his brother from branch to
branch; and while his eyes were fixed upon the nest, entirely taken up
with his design, and watching every motion of the bird, the slippery
rogue loosens his trowsers, and brings them down as a signal of triumph.
Hamet, in the meantime, contrives to replace all the eggs; and coming
down, looks for the praise due to so clever an exploit. "O, you want to
deceive us," said Berard, bantering him, "I'll wager that you have
concealed the eggs in your trowsers." The other looks, sees that his
trowsers are gone, and soon finds out the trick of his brother.
"Excellent rogue," says he, "to outwit another."

As for Travers, he was lost in equal admiration of these two heroes, and
could not determine which had the advantage. But feeling himself humbled
at their superiority, and piqued at not being able to contend with them,
cried, "Friends, you are too knowing for me. You would escape twenty
times, when I should be the scape-goat. I perceive that I am too aukward
to thrive in this business; so I shall go and follow my own trade. I
renounce thieving for ever. I have good strong arms, and will return
home and live with my wife. With the help of God, I shall be able to
procure a subsistence." He fulfilled his declaration, and returned to
the village. His wife loved him; he became an honest man, and set
himself to work with so much industry, that at the close of a few months
he had earned wherewithal to buy a hog. The animal was fattened at home.
At Christmas he killed it; and having hung it in the usual way, against
the wall, he went into the fields.

The two brothers, who had not seen him since their separation, came at
this very time to pay him a visit. The wife was alone spinning. She told
them, that her husband was just gone out, and that he would not return
till night. With eyes accustomed to examine every thing, you may swear
the hog could not escape their notice. "Oh, oh!" said they, on going
out, "this fellow is about to regale, and did not think us worth
inviting. Well, we must carry off his pork, and eat it without him." The
rogues then laid their plot; and till night should enable them to act,
they went and concealed themselves behind a neighbouring hedge.

At night, when Travers returned, his wife told him of the visit she had
received. "I was much alarmed," said she, "at being alone with them;
they had so suspicious an appearance, that I did not venture to ask
either their names or business. But they searched every corner with
their eyes; I don't think a single peg escaped their notice."--"Ah! it
must have been my two queer companions," cried Travers in great trouble;
"my hog is lost; and I now heartily wish I had sold him." "We have still
a resource," said the wife: "let us take down the pork, and hide it
somewhere all night. To-morrow morning you may consider what is to be
done." Travers followed his wife's advice. He took down the pork, and
laid it under the bread oven, at the opposite side of the room; after
which he lay down, but not with his mind perfectly at ease.

Night being come, the two brothers arrived to accomplish their project;
and while the eldest kept watch, Berard began to penetrate the wall in
that part where he had seen the pork hanging. But he quickly perceived
that nothing was left except the string by which it was suspended. "The
bird is flown," said he; "we are come too late." Travers, whom his dread
of being robbed kept awake, thinking he heard a noise, waked his wife,
and ran to the oven to see if the pork was still safe. He found it
there; but as he was also apprehensive for his barn and stable, he
determined to make the circuit of them; and went out armed with a
hatchet. Berard, who had heard him go out, took the opportunity to pick
open the door; and approaching the bed, and counterfeiting the voice of
the husband, "Mary," said he, "the pork is removed from the wall. What
have you done with it?" "Don't you remember, then, that we put it under
the oven," answered the wife; "what, has fear turned your brain?" "No,
no," replied the other, "I had only forgot. But stop, I will secure it."
In saying which, he lifts the pork upon his shoulders, and runs off.

After having gone his rounds, and carefully visited his doors, Travers
returned to the chamber. "I have got a husband," said the woman, "who,
it must be confessed, has a curious head upon his shoulders; to forget
one moment what he had done with his pork another." At these words
Travers set up a cry. "I told you, they would steal it from me; it is
gone, and I shall never see it more." Yet, as the thieves could not be
gone far, he had still some hopes of recovering it; and instantly ran
after them.

They had taken to a by-path across the fields, that led towards the
wood, where they intended to hide their booty. Hamet went before, to
secure the way; and the brother, whose load was a considerable
impediment, followed him at a small distance. Travers soon came up with
the latter. He saw him plainly, and recognised him. "You must be
somewhat tired," said he, assuming the voice of the elder brother; "give
me the load, and let me take my turn," Berard, who thought his brother
was speaking to him, gave Travers the pork and walks on. But he had not
proceeded an hundred yards, before, when, to his great astonishment, he
falls in with Hamet. "Zounds!" cried he, "I have been ensnared. That
rogue Travers has taken me in; but see if I cannot make amends for my
folly."

He then strips himself, puts his shirt over his clothes, makes himself a
kind of woman's cap, and in this trim runs as fast as he can by another
path to the house of Travers, whose arrival he waits at the door. As he
sees him approaching, he comes, appearing as his wife, to meet him, and
asks, with a feigned voice, whether he had recovered the pork. "Yes, I
have it," answered the husband. "Well, give it me, and run quickly to
the stable, for I hear a noise there, and I fear they have broke in."
Travers then throws the carcase upon the other's shoulder, and goes once
more to make his rounds. But when he returns to the house, he is
surprised to find his wife in bed, crying, and half dead with fear. He
then perceives that he has again been cheated. Nevertheless, he was
determined not to give out; and, as if his honour was concerned in the
adventure, he vowed not to give up the contest, till by some means or
other he came off victorious.

He suspected that the thieves this trip would hardly take the same road;
but he knew the forest was the place they would make for, and
accordingly went the shortest way to it. They had in fact already got
there; and in their triumph and eagerness to taste the fruit of their
dexterity, they had just lighted a fire at the foot of an oak, to broil
a piece of the meat. The wood was green, and burnt but indifferently; so
that, to make it blaze, they were obliged to go and gather some dry
leaves and rotten branches.

Travers, whom the light directed to the thieves, takes the advantage of
their distance from the fire. He strips himself entirely, climbs the
oak, suspends himself by one arm, in the position of a man who had been
hanged, when he sees them returned, and busy in blowing the fire, he
roars out with a voice like thunder, "Unhappy wretches! you will come to
the same end as me." The two brothers, in confusion, imagine they see
and hear their father, and think of nothing but their escape. The other
quickly snatches his clothes and his pork, returns in triumph to his
wife, and gives an account of his recent victory. She congratulates him
with a kiss, on so bold and well executed a manoeuvre. "Let us not yet
flatter ourselves with too much security," said he; "these queer fellows
are not far off, and as long as the pork subsists, I shall not think it
out of danger. But boil some water, we'll dress it; and if they return,
we shall see what method they will devise to get hold of it again." The
one then made a fire, while the other divided the carcase, and put it
piece by piece into the kettle; they both then seated themselves to
watch it, one on each side of the fire-place.

But Travers, who was almost exhausted for want of rest, and fatigued by
the operations of the night, soon began to shew a propensity to sleep.
"Go, and lay yourself down," said the wife; "I will take care of the
pot; all is fastened, there is nothing to fear. At all events, if I
should hear a noise, I'll give you notice." On this assurance, he threw
himself in his clothes upon the bed, and immediately fell fast asleep.
The wife continued for some space of time to watch the cauldron; but
drowsiness began to overpower her likewise; and at last she fell asleep
in her chair.

In the meantime, our thieves, after recovering from their alarm, had
returned to the oak; but finding there neither pork, nor man in chains,
they easily unravelled the plot. They conceived themselves dishonoured,
if in this conflict of stratagems Travers should finally have the
advantage: So they returned to his house, resolved, for the last time,
to strain their ingenuity to the utmost.

Before they undertook any thing, Berard looked through the hole he had
made in the wall, to see if the enemy was upon his guard. He saw on the
one hand Travers stretched out upon his bed, and on the other the wife,
whose head nodded from one side to another, with a ladle in her hand,
while the pork was boiling in the cauldron. "They had a mind to save us
the trouble of cooking it," said Berard to his brother: "and indeed it
was the least they could do, considering what work they have given us
already. Be steady, and rest assured that I will help you to some of
it." He then goes, and cuts down a long pole, which he sharpens at one
end. With this pole he climbs to the roof, and letting it down through
the chimney, sticks it into a piece of pork, and raises it up.

Travers at that instant happened to wake. He saw the manoeuvre, and
judged, that, with such expert enemies, peace was preferable to war.
"Friends," cried he, "we are both to blame; you, in breaking through the
roof of my house; and I, in not inviting you to partake of my pork. Come
down, and let us feast together." He went and opened the door to them.
They sat down together at table, and were heartily reconciled to each
other.




NICOLAS PEDROSA.


Nicolas Pedrosa, a busy little being, who followed the trade of shaver,
surgeon, and man-midwife in the town of Madrid, mounted his mule at the
door of his shop in the Plazuela de los Affligidos, and pushed through
the gate of San Bernardino, being called to a patient in the
neighbouring village of Foncarral, upon a pressing occasion. Every body
knows, that the ladies in Spain, in certain cases, do not give long
warning to practitioners of a certain description, and nobody knew it
better than Nicolas, who was resolved not to lose an inch of his way,
nor of his mule's best speed by the way, if cudgelling could beat it out
of her. It was plain to Nicolas's conviction, as plain could be, that
his road lay straight forward to the little convent in front; the mule
was of opinion, that the turning on the left down the hill towards the
Prado, was the road of all roads most familiar and agreeable to herself,
and accordingly began to dispute the point of topography with Nicolas,
by fixing her forefeet resolutely in the ground, dipping her head at the
same time between them, and launching heels and crupper furiously into
the air, in the way of argument. Little Pedrosa, who was armed at heel
with one massy silver spur, of stout though ancient workmanship,
resolutely applied the rusty rowel to the shoulder of his beast, and at
the same time, adroitly tucking his blue cape under his right arm, and
flinging his skirt over his left shoulder _en cavalier_, began to lay
about him with a stout ashen sapling, upon the ears, pole, and cheeks,
of the recreant mule. The fire now flashed from a pair of Andalusian
eyes, as black as charcoal, and not less inflammable, and taking the
segara from his mouth, with which he had vainly hoped to have regaled
his nostrils in a sharp winter's evening by the way, raised such a
thundering troop of angels, saints, and martyrs, from Saint Michael,
downwards, not forgetting his own namesake St Nicolas de Tolentino, by
the way, that if curses could have made the mule to go, the dispute
would have been soon ended; but not a saint could make her stir any
other ways than upwards and downwards at a stand. A small troop of
mendicant friars were at this moment conducting the host to a dying
man.--"Nicolas Pedrosa," says an old friar, "be patient with your beast,
and spare your blasphemies; remember Balaam."--"Ah! father," replied
Pedrosa, "Balaam cudgelled his beast till she spoke, so will I mine till
she roars."--"Fie, fie, prophane fellow," cries another of the
fraternity. "Go about your work, friend," quoth Nicolas, "and let me go
about mine; I warrant it is the more pressing of the two; your patient
is going out of the world, mine is coming into it." "Hear him," cries a
third, "hear the vile wretch how he blasphemes the body of God." And
then the troop passed slowly on to the tinkling of the bell.

A man must know nothing of a mule's ears, who does not know what a
passion they have for the tinkling of a bell; and no sooner had the
jingling chords vibrated in the sympathetic organs of Pedrosa's beast,
than bolting forward with a sudden spring, she ran roaring into the
throng of friars, trampling on some, and shouldering others, at a
prophane rate; when Nicolas availing himself of the impetus, and perhaps
not able to control it, broke away, and was out of sight in a moment.
"All the devils in hell blow fire into thy tail, thou beast of Babylon,"
muttered Nicolas to himself, as he scampered along, never once looking
behind him, or stopping to apologise for the mischief he had done to the
bare feet and shirtless ribs of the holy brotherhood.

Whether Nicolas saved his distance, as likewise, if he did, whether it
was a male or a female Castilian he ushered into the world, we shall not
just now inquire, contented to await his return in the first of the
morning, next day, when he had no sooner dismounted at his shop, and
delivered his mule to a sturdy Arragonese wench, than Don Ignacia de
Santos Aparicio, Alguazil-mayor of the supreme and general inquisition,
put an order into his hand, signed and sealed by the Inquisitor-general,
for the conveyance of his body to the Casa, whose formidable door
presents itself in the street adjoining to the square in which Nicolas's
brazen basin hung forth, the emblem of his trade.

The poor little fellow, trembling in every joint, and with a face as
yellow as saffron, dropt a knee to the altar which fronts the entrance,
and crossed himself most devoutly: as soon as he had ascended the first
flight of stairs, a porter habited in black opened the tremendous
barricade, and Nicolas, with horror, heard the grating of the heavy
bolts that shut him in. He was led through passages, and vaults, and
melancholy cells, till he was delivered into the dungeon, where he was
finally left to his solitary meditations. Hapless being! what a scene of
horror! Nicolas felt all the terrors of his condition, but being an
Andalusian, and, like his countrymen, of a lively imagination, he began
to turn over all the resources of his invention for some happy fetch, if
any such might occur, for helping him out of the dismal limbo he was in:
he had not long to seek for the cause of his misfortune; his adventure
with the barefooted friars was a ready solution of all difficulties of
that nature, had there been any; there was, however, another thing,
which might have troubled a stouter heart than Nicolas's--he was a
Jew.--This, of a certain, would have been a staggering item in a poor
devil's confession, but then it was a secret to all the world but
Nicolas, and Nicolas's conscience did not then urge him to reveal it. He
now began to overhaul the inventory of his personals about him, and with
some satisfaction counted three little medals of the blessed Virgin, two
Agnus Deis, a Saint Nicolas de Tolentino, and a formidable string of
beads, all pendant from his neck, and within his shirt; in his pockets,
he had a paper of dried figs, a small bundle of segars, a case of
lancets, squirt and forceps, and two old razors in a leathern envelope;
these he had delivered one by one to the Alguazil, who first arrested
him--"and let him make the most of them," said he to himself, "they can
never prove an Israelite by a case of razors." Upon a closer rummage,
however, he discovered in a secret pocket, a letter, which the Alguazil
had overlooked, and which his patient Donna Leonora de Casafonda had
given him in charge to deliver as directed.--"Well, well," cried he,
"let it pass; there can be no mystery in this harmless scrawl; a letter
of advice to some friend or relation; I'll not break the seal; let the
fathers read it, if they like, 'twill prove the truth of my deposition,
and help out my excuse for the hurry of my errand, and the unfortunate
adventure of a damned refractory mule."--And now no sooner had the
recollection of the wayward mule crossed the brain of poor Nicolas
Pedrosa, than he began to blast her at a furious rate.--"The scratches
and the scab to boot confound thy scurvy hide," quoth he, "thou
ass-begotten bastard, whom Noah never let into his ark! The vengeance
take thee, for an uncreated barren beast of promiscuous generation! What
devil's crotchet got into thy capricious noddle, that thou shouldst fall
in love with that Nazaritish bell, and run bellowing like Lucifer into
the midst of those barefooted vermin, who are more malicious and more
greedy than the locusts of Egypt? Oh! that I had the art of Simon Magus
to conjure thee into this dungeon in my stead; but I warrant thou art
chewing thy barley straw without any pity for thy wretched master, whom
thy jade's tricks have delivered bodily to the tormentors, to be snort
for these uncircumcised sons of Dagon." And now the cell door opened,
when a savage figure entered, carrying a huge parcel of clanking
fetters, with a collar of iron, which he put round the neck of poor
Pedrosa, telling him, with a truly diabolical grin, whilst he was
rivetting it on, "that it was a proper cravat for the throat of a
blasphemer."--"Jesus Maria!" quoth Pedrosa, "is all this fallen upon me,
for only cudgelling a restive mule?" "Aye," cried the demon, "and this
is only a taste of what is to come," at the same time, slipping his
pincers from the screw he was forcing to the head, he caught a piece of
flesh in the forceps, and wrenched it out of his cheek, laughing at poor
Nicolas, whilst he roared aloud with the pain, telling him it was a just
reward for the torture he had put him to a while ago, when he tugged at
a tooth till he broke it in his jaw. "Ah, for the love of heaven," cried
Pedrosa, "have more pity on me; for the sake of Saint Nicolas de
Tolentino, my holy patron, be not so unmerciful to a poor
barber-surgeon; and I will shave your worship's beard for no thing as
long as I have life." One of the messengers of the auditory now came in,
and bade the fellow strike off the prisoner's fetters, for that the holy
fathers were in council, and demanded him for examination. "This is
something extraordinary," quoth the tormentor, "I should not have
expected it this twelvemonth to come." Pedrosa's fetters were struck
off; some brandy was applied to staunch the bleeding of his cheek; his
hands and face were washed, and a short jacket of coarse ticking thrown
over him; and the messenger, with an assistant, taking him each under an
arm, led him into a spacious chamber, where at the head of a long table
sat his excellency the Inquisitor-general with six of his assessors,
three on each side the chair of state: the Alguazil-mayor, a secretary,
and two notaries, with other officers of the holy council, were
attending in their places.

The prisoner was placed behind a bar at the foot of the table, between
the messengers who brought him in; and having made his obeisance to the
awful presence, in the most supplicating manner, he was called upon,
according to the usual form of questions, by one of the junior judges,
to declare his name, parentage, profession, age, place of abode, and to
answer various interrogatories, of the like trifling nature: his
Excellency the Inquisitor-general now opened his reverend lips, and in a
solemn tone of voice, that penetrated to the heart of the poor trembling
prisoner, interrogated him as follows:

"Nicolas Pedrosa, we have listened to the account you give of yourself,
your business, and connections; now tell us for what offence or
offences, you are here standing a prisoner before us; examine your own
heart, and speak the truth from your conscience without prevarication or
disguise."

"May it please your excellency," replied Pedrosa, "with all due
submission to your holiness and this reverend assembly, my most
equitable judges, I conceive I stand here before you for no worse a
crime than that of cudgelling a refractory mule; an animal so restive in
its nature, (under correction of your holiness be it spoken), that
although I were blessed with the forbearance of holy Job (for like him
too I am married, and my patience hath been exercised by a wife); yet
could I not forbear to smite my beast for her obstinacy, and the rather
because I was summoned in the way of my profession, as I have already
made known to your most merciful ears, upon a certain crying occasion,
which would not admit of a moment's delay."

"Recollect yourself, Nicolas," said his Excellency the
Inquisitor-general; "was there nothing else you did, save smiting your
beast?"

"I take Saint Nicolas de Tolentino to witness," replied he, "that I know
of no other crime, for which I can be responsible at this righteous
tribunal, save smiting my unruly beast." "Take notice, brethren,"
exclaimed the Inquisitor, "this unholy wretch holds trampling over
friars to be no crime."

"Pardon me, holy father," replied Nicolas, "I hold it for the worst of
crimes, and therefore willingly surrender my refractory mule to be dealt
with it as you see fit; and if you impale her alive, it will be no more
than she deserves."

"Your wits are too nimble, Nicolas," cried the judge; "have a care they
do not run away with your discretion; recollect the blasphemies you
uttered in the hearing of those pious people."

"I humbly pray your Excellency," answered the prisoner, "to recollect
that anger is a short madness, and I hope allowances will be made by
your holy council for words spoke in haste to a rebellious mule: the
prophet Balaam was thrown off his guard by a simple ass, and what is an
ass compared to a mule? If your Excellency had seen the lovely creature
that was screaming in agony till I came to her relief, and how fine a
boy I ushered into the world, which would have been lost but for my
assistance, I am sure I should not be condemned for a few hasty words
spoken in passion."

"Sirrah!" cried one of the puisny judges, "respect the decency of the
court." "Produce the contents of this fellow's pockets before the
court," said the president; "lay them on the table."

"Monster," resumed the aforesaid puisny judge, taking up the forceps,
"what is the use of this diabolical machine?" "Please your reverence,"
replied Pedrosa, "_aptum est ad extrahendos foetus_"--"Unnatural
wretch," again exclaimed the judge, "you have murdered the mother."

"The mother of God forbid!" exclaimed Pedrosa. "I believe I have a proof
in my pocket that will acquit me of that charge;" and so saying, he
tendered the letter we have before made mention of. The secretary took
it, and by command of the court read as follows;

"_Senior Don Manuel de Herrera_,

"When this letter, which I send by Nicolas Pedrosa, shall reach your
hands, you will know that I am safely delivered of a lovely boy, after a
dangerous labour, in consideration of which I pray you to pay to the
said Nicolas Pedrosa the sum of twenty gold pistoles, which sum his
Excellency----"

"Hold," cried the Inquisitor-general, starting hastily from his seat,
and snatching away the letter, "there is more in this than meets the
eye: break up the court; I must take an examination of this prisoner in
private."

As soon as the room was cleared, the Inquisitor-general, beckoning to
the prisoner to follow him; retired into a private closet, where,
throwing himself carelessly into an arm chair, he turned a gracious
countenance upon the poor affrighted accoucheur, and bidding him sit
down upon a low stool by his side, thus accosted him:--"Take heart,
Senior Pedrosa, your imprisonment is not likely to be very tedious, for
I have a commission you must execute without loss of time: you have too
much consideration for yourself to betray a trust, the violation of
which must involve you in inevitable ruin, and can in no degree attaint
my character, which is far enough beyond the reach of malice; be
attentive, therefore, to my orders; execute them punctually, and keep my
secret as you tender your own life; dost thou know the name and
condition of the lady whom thou hast delivered?" Nicolas assured him he
did not, and his Excellency proceeded as follows: "Then I tell thee,
Nicolas, it is the illustrious Donna Leonora de Casafonda; her husband
is the president of Quito, and daily expected with the next arrivals
from the South Seas; now, though measures have been taken for detaining
him at the port, wherever he shall land, till he shall receive further
orders, yet you must be sensible Donna Leonora's situation is somewhat
delicate: it will be your business to take the speediest measure for her
recovery; but as it seems she has had a dangerous and painful labour,
this may be a work of more time than could be wished, unless some
medicines more efficacious than common are administered; art thou
acquainted with any such, friend Nicolas?"--"So please your Excellency,"
quoth Nicolas, "my processes have been tolerably successful; I have
bandages and cataplasms, with oils and conserves, that I have no cause
to complain of; they will restore nature to its proper state in all
decent time."--"Thou talkest like a fool, friend Nicolas," interrupting
him, said the Inquisitor? "What tellest thou me of thy swathings and
swaddlings? quick work must be wrought by quick medicine: hast thou none
such in thy botica? I'll answer for it thou hast not; therefore, look
you, sirrah, here is a little vial compounded by a famous chemist; see
that you mix it in the next apocem you administer to Donna Leonora; it
is the most capital sedative in nature; give her the whole of it, and
let her husband return when he will, depend upon it he will make no
discoveries from her."--"Humph!" quoth Nicolas within himself, "well
said Inquisitor!" He took the vial With all possible respect, and was
not wanting in professions of the most inviolable fidelity and
secrecy.--"No more words, friend Nicolas," quoth the Inquisitor, "upon
that score; I do not believe thee one jot the more for all thy promises,
my dependence is upon thy fears and not thy faith; I fancy thou hast
seen enough of this place not to be willing to return to it once for
all!" Having so said, he rang a bell, and ordered Nicolas to be
forthwith liberated, bidding the messenger return his clothes instantly
to him with all that belonged to him, and having slipt a purse into his
hand well filled with doubloons, he bade him begone about his business,
and not see his face again till he had executed his commands.

Nicolas bolted out of the porch without taking leave of the altar, and
never checked his speed till he found himself fairly housed under
shelter of his own beloved brass basin.--"Aha!" quoth Nicolas, "my lord
Inquisitor, I see the king is not likely to gain a subject more by your
intrigues: a pretty job you have set me about; and so, when I have put
the poor lady to rest with your damned sedative, my tongue must be stopt
next to prevent its blabbing: but I'll shew you I was not born in
Andalusia for nothing." Nicolas now opened a secret drawer, and took out
a few pieces of money, which, in fact, was his whole stock of cash in
the world; he loaded and primed his pistols, and carefully lodged them
in the housers of his saddle; he buckled to his side his trusty spada,
and hastened to caparison his mule. "Ah, thou imp of the old one," quoth
he, as he entered the stable, "art not ashamed to look me in the face?
But come, hussy, thou owest me a good turn, methinks; stand by me this
once, and be friends for ever! thou art in good case, and if thou wilt
put thy best foot foremost, like a faithful beast, thou shalt not want
for barley on the way." The bargain was soon struck between Nicolas and
his mule, he mounted her in the happy moment, and pointing his course
toward the bridge of Toledo, which proudly strides with half a dozen
lofty arches over a stream scarce three feet wide, he found himself as
completely in a desert in half a mile's riding, as if he had been dropt
in the centre of Arabia Petra. As Nicolas's journey was not a tour of
curiosity, he did not amuse himself with a peep at Toledo, or Talavera,
or even Merida, by the way: for the same reason he took a
_circumbendibus_ round the frontier town of Badajoz; and crossing a
little brook, refreshed his mule with the last draught of Spanish water,
and instantly congratulated himself upon entering the territory of
Portugal. "Brava!" quoth he, patting the neck of his mule, "thou shalt
have a supper this night of the best sive-meat that Estremadura can
furnish: we are now in a country where the scattered flock of Israel
fold thick and fare well." He now began to chaunt the Song of Solomon,
and gently ambled on in the joy of his heart.

When Nicolas at length reached the city of Lisbon, he hugged himself in
his good fortune; still he recollected that the inquisition had long
arms, and he was yet in a place of no perfect security. Our adventurer
had in early life acted as assistant-surgeon in a Spanish frigate bound
to Buenos Ayres, and being captured by a British man of war and carried
into Jamaica, had very quietly passed some years in that place as
journeyman apothecary, in which time he had acquired a tolerable
acquaintance with the English language. No sooner then did he discover
the British ensign flying on the poop of an English frigate then lying
in the Tagus, than he eagerly caught the opportunity of paying a visit
to the surgeon; and finding he was in want of a mate, offered himself,
and was entered in that capacity for a cruize against the French and
Spaniards, with whom Great Britain was then at war. In this secure
asylum Nicolas enjoyed the first happy moments he had experienced for a
long time past, and being a lively good-humoured little fellow, and one
that touched the guitar and sung sequidillas with a tolerable grace, he
soon recommended himself to his ship-mates, and grew in favour with
every body on board, from the captain to the cook's mate.

When they were out upon their cruize, hovering on the Spanish coast, it
occurred to Nicolas, that the Inquisitor-general at Madrid had told him
of the expected arrival of the president of Quito, and having imparted
this to one of the lieutenants, he reported it to the captain; and as
the intelligence seemed of importance, he availed himself of it, by
hawling into the track of the homeward-bound galleons, and great was the
joy, when at the break of the morning the man at the mast-head announced
a square-rigged vessel in view. The ardour of a chase now set all hands
at work; and a few hours brought them near enough to discern that she
was a Spanish frigate, and seemingly from a long voyage: little Pedrosa,
as alert as the rest, stript himself for his work, and repaired to his
post in the cock-pit, whilst the thunder of the guns reeled incessantly
over his head; three cheers from the whole crew at length announced the
moment of victory, and a few more minutes ascertained the good news,
that the prize was a frigate richly laden from the South Seas, with the
governor of Quito and his suite on board.

Pedrosa was now called upon deck, and sent on board the prize as
interpreter to the first lieutenant, who was to take possession of
her.--He found every thing in confusion, a deck covered with the slain,
and the whole crew in consternation at an event they were in no degree
prepared for, not having received any intimation of a war. He found the
officers in general, and the passengers without exception, under the
most horrid impressions of the English, expecting to be butchered
without mercy. Don Manuel de Casafonda, the governor, whose countenance
bespoke a constitution far gone in a decline, had thrown himself on a
sofa in the last state of despair, and given way to an effusion of
tears: when the lieutenant entered the cabin, he rose trembling from his
couch, and with the most supplicating action presented to him his sword,
and with it a casket which he carried in his other hand: as he tendered
these spoils to his conqueror, whether through his weakness, or of his
own will, he made a motion of bending his knee: the generous Briton,
shocked at the unmanly overture, caught him suddenly with both hands,
and turning to Pedrosa, said aloud,--"Convince this gentleman he is
fallen into the hands of an honourable enemy."--"Is it possible!" cried
Don Manuel, and lifting up his streaming eyes to the countenance of the
British officer, saw humanity, valour, and generous pity, so strongly
charactered in his youthful features, that the conviction was
irresistible. "Will he not accept my sword?" cried the Spaniard. "He
desires you to wear it, till he has the honour of presenting you to his
captain." "Ah! then he has a captain," exclaimed Don Manuel, "his
superior will be of another way of thinking; tell him this casket
contains my jewels; they are valuable; let him present them as a lawful
prize, which will enrich the captor; his superior will not hesitate to
take them from me."--"If they are your Excellency's private property,"
replied Pedrosa, "I am ordered to assure you, that if your ship were
loaded with jewels, no British officer in the service of his king will
take them at your hands; the ship and effects of his Catholic Majesty
are the only prize of the captors; the personals of the passengers are
inviolate."--"Generous nation!" exclaimed Don Manuel, "how greatly have
I wronged thee!"--The boats of the British frigate now came alongside,
and part of the crew were shifted out of the prize, taking their clothes
and trunks along with them, in which they were very cordially assisted
by their conquerors. The barge soon after came aboard with an officer in
the stern-sheets, and the crew in their white shirts and velvet caps, to
escort the governor and the ship's captain on board the frigate, which
lay with her sails to the mast, awaiting their arrival: the
accommodation-ladder was slung over the side, and manned for the
prisoners, who were received on the gangway by the second lieutenant,
whilst perfect silence and the strictest discipline reigned in the ship,
where all were under the decks, and no inquisitive curious eyes were
suffered to wound the feelings of the conquered even with a glance. In
the door of his cabin stood the captain, who received them with that
modest complaisance, which does not revolt the unfortunate by an
overstrained politeness: he was a man of high birth and elegant manners,
with a heart as benevolent as it was brave: such an address, set off
with a person finely formed and perfectly engaging, could not fail to
impress the prisoners with the most favourable ideas; and as Don Manuel
spoke French fluently, he could converse with the British captain
without the help of an interpreter; as he expressed an impatient desire
of being admitted to his parole, that he might revisit his friends and
connections, from whom he had been long separated, he was overjoyed to
hear that the English ship would carry her prize into Lisbon; and that
he would there be set on shore, and permitted to make the best of his
way from thence to Madrid. He talked of his wife with all the ardour of
the most impassioned lover, and apologized for his tears, by imputing
them to the agony of his mind and infirmity of his health, under the
dread of being longer separated from an object so dear to his heart, and
on whom he doated with the fondest affection. The generous captain
indulged him in these conversations, and being a husband himself, knew
how to allow for all the tenderness of his sensations. "Ah, Sir," cried
Don Manuel, "would to heaven it were in my power to have the honour of
presenting my beloved Leonora to you on our landing at
Lisbon.--Perhaps," added he, turning to Pedrosa, who at that moment
entered the cabin, "this gentleman, whom I take to be a Spaniard, may
have heard the name of Donna Leonora de Casafonda; if he has been at
Madrid, it is possible he may have seen her; should that be the case, he
can testify to her external charms; I alone can witness to the exquisite
perfections of her mind."--"Senior Don Manuel," replied Pedrosa, "I have
seen Donna Leonora, and your Excellency is warranted in all you can say
in her praise; she is of incomparable beauty." These words threw the
uxorious Spaniard into raptures; his eyes sparkled with delight; the
blood rushed into his emaciated cheeks, and every feature glowed with
unutterable joy: he pressed Pedrosa with a variety of rapid inquiries,
all which he evaded by pleading ignorance, saying that he had only a
casual glance of her, as she passed along the Prado. The embarrassment,
however, which accompanied these answers, did not escape the English
captain, who, shortly after, drawing Pedrosa aside into the surgeon's
cabin, was by him made acquainted with the melancholy situation of that
unfortunate lady, and every particular of the story as before related;
nay, the very vial was produced, with its contents, as put into the
hands of Pedrosa by the inquisitor.

"Can there be such villany in man?" cried the British captain, when
Pedrosa had concluded his detail; "alas! my heart bleeds for this
unhappy husband; assuredly, that monster has destroyed Leonora; as for
thee, Pedrosa, whilst the British flag flies over thy head, neither
Spain, nor Portugal, nor inquisitors, nor devils, shall annoy thee under
its protection; but if thou ever venturest over the side of this ship,
and rashly settest thy foot upon Catholic soil, when we arrive at
Lisbon, thou art a lost man."--"I were worse than a madman," replied
Nicolas, "should I attempt it."--"Keep close in this asylum, then,"
resumed the captain, "and fear nothing: had it been our fate to have
been captured by the Spaniard, what would have become of thee."--"In the
worst of extremities," replied Nicolas, "I should have applied to the
inquisitor's vial; but I confess I had no fears of that sort; a ship so
commanded and so manned is in little danger of being carried into a
Spanish port."--"I hope not," said the captain, "and I promise thee,
thou shalt take thy chance in her as long as she is afloat under my
command; and if we live to conduct her to England, thou shalt have thy
proper share of prize-money, which, if the galleon breaks up according
to her entries, will be something towards enabling thee to shift, and if
thou art as diligent in thy duty, as I am persuaded thou wilt be, whilst
I live, thou shalt never want a seaman's friend."--At these cheering
words, little Nicholas threw himself at the feet of his generous
preserver, and, with streaming eyes, poured out his thanks from a heart
animated with joy and gratitude.--The captain raising him by the hand,
forbade him, as he prized his friendship, ever to address him in that
posture any more; "thank me, if you will," added he, "but thank me as
one man should another; let no knee bend in this ship but in adoration
of God.--But now," continued he, "let us turn our thoughts to the
situation of our unhappy Casafonda; we are now drawing near Lisbon,
where he will look to be liberated on his parole."--"By no means let him
venture into Spain," said Pedrosa; "I am well assured there are orders
to arrest him in every port, or frontier town, where he may present
himself."--"I can well believe it," replied the captain; "his piteous
case will require further deliberation; in the mean time, let nothing
transpire on your part; and keep yourself out of his sight as carefully
as you can."--This said, the captain left the cabin, and both parties
repaired to their several occupations.

As soon as the frigate, and her prize, cast anchor in the Tagus, Don
Manuel de Casafonda impatiently reminded our captain of his promised
parole. The painful moment was now come, when an explanation of some
sort became unavoidable: the generous Englishman, with a countenance
expressive of the tenderest pity, took the Spaniard's hand in his, and
seating him on a couch beside him, ordered the centinel to keep the
cabin private, and delivered himself as follows:--

"Senior Don Manuel, I must now impart to you an anxiety which I labour
under on your account; I have strong reasons to suspect you have enemies
in your own country, who are upon the watch to arrest you on your
landing; when I have told you this, I expect you will repose such trust
in my honour, and the sincerity of my regard for you, as not to demand a
further explanation of the particulars on which my intelligence is
founded."--"Heaven and earth!" cried the astonished Spaniard, "who can
be those enemies I have to fear, and what can I have done to deserve
them?"--"So far I will open myself to you," answered the captain, "as to
point out the principal to you, the Inquisitor-general."--"The best
friend I have in Spain," exclaimed the governor, "my sworn protector,
the patron of my fortune: he my enemy! impossible."--"Well, Sir,"
replied the captain, "if my advice do not meet belief, I must so far
exert my authority for your sake, as to make this ship your prison, till
I have waited on our minister at Lisbon, and made the enquiries
necessary for your safety; suspend your judgment upon the seeming
harshness of this measure till I return to you again;" and, at the same
time, rising from his seat, he gave orders for the barge; after leaving
strict injunctions with the first lieutenant not to allow of the
governor's quitting the frigate, he put off for the shore, and left the
melancholy Spaniard buried in profound and silent meditation.

The emissaries of the inquisition having at last traced Pedrosa to
Lisbon, and there gained intelligence of his having entered on board the
frigate, our captain had no sooner turned into the porch of the hotel of
Buenos-Ayres, than he was accosted by a messenger of state, with a
requisition from the prime minister's office, for the surrender of one
Nicolas Pedrosa, a subject of Spain, and a criminal, who had escaped out
of the prisons of the inquisition in Madrid, where he stood charged of
high crimes and misdemeanors.--As soon as this requisition was explained
to our worthy captain, without condescending to say a word in reply, he
called for pen and ink, and writing a short order to the officer
commanding on board, instantly dispatched the midshipman, who attended
him to the barge, with directions to make the best of his way back to
the frigate, and deliver it to the lieutenant: then turning to the
messenger, he said to him in a resolute tone, "That Spaniard is now
borne on my books, and before you shall take him out of the service of
my king you must sink his ship."--Not waiting for a reply, he instantly
proceeded, without stopping, to the house of the British Minister, at
the further end of the city: here he found Pedrosa's intelligence, with
regard to the Governor, expressly verified, for the order had come down
even to Lisbon, upon the chance of the Spanish frigate's taking shelter
in that port: to this minister he related the horrid tale which Pedrosa
had delivered to him, and with his concurrence it was determined to
forward letters into Spain, which Don Manuel should be advised to write,
to his lady and friends at Madrid, and to wait their answer before any
further discoveries were imparted to him respecting the blackest
circumstances of the case: in the mean time it was resolved to keep the
prisoner safe in his asylum.

The generous captain lost no time in returning to his frigate, where he
immediately imparted to Don Manuel the intelligence he had obtained at
the British Minister's.--"This, indeed," cried the afflicted Spaniard,
"is a stroke I was in no respect prepared for; I had fondly persuaded
myself there was not in the whole empire of Spain a more friendly heart
than that of the Inquisitor's; to my beloved Leonora he had ever shewn
the tenderness of a paternal affection from her very childhood; by him
our hands were joined; his lips pronounced the nuptial benediction; and
through his favour I was promoted to my government; grant, heaven, no
misfortune hath befallen my Leonora! surely she cannot have offended him
and forfeited his favour."--"As I know him not," replied the captain, "I
can form no judgment of his motives; but this I know, that if a man's
heart is capable of cruelty, the fittest school to learn it in must be
the inquisition." The proposal was now suggested, of sending letters
into Spain, and the governor retired to his desk for the purpose of
writing them. In the afternoon of the same day, the minister paid a
visit to the captain, and receiving a packet from the hands of Don
Manuel, promised to get it forwarded by a safe conveyance according to
the direction.

In due course of time, this fatal letter from Leonora opened all the
horrible transaction to the wretched husband:

"The guilty hand of an expiring wife, under the agonising operation of a
mortal poison, traces these few trembling lines to an injured, wretched
husband. If thou hast any pity for my parting spirit, fly the ruin that
awaits thee, and avoid this scene of villany and horror. When I tell
thee, I have born a child to the monster, whose poison runs in my veins,
thou wilt abhor thy faithless Leonora; had I strength to relate to thee
the subtile machinations, which betrayed me to disgrace, thou wouldst
pity, and perhaps forgive me. Oh agony! can I write his name?--The
Inquisitor is my murderer--My pen falls from my hand--Farewell for
ever!"

Had a shot passed through the heart of Don Manuel, it could not more
effectually have stopt its motions than the perusal of this fatal
writing: he dropped lifeless on the couch, and but for the care and
assistance of the captain and Pedrosa, in that posture he had probably
expired. Grief like his cannot be described by words, for to words it
gave no utterance; 'twas suffocating, silent woe.

Let us drop the curtain over this melancholy pause in our narration, and
attend upon the mournful widower, now landing upon English ground, and
conveyed by his humane and generous preserver to the house of a noble
Earl, the father of our amiable captain, and a man by his virtues still
more conspicuous than by his rank. Here, amidst the gentle solicitudes
of a benevolent family, in one of the most enchanting spots on earth, in
a climate most salubrious and restorative to a constitution exhausted by
heat, and a heart nearly broken with sorrow, the reviving spirits of the
unfortunate Don Manuel gave the first symptoms of a possible recovery.
At the period of a few tranquillizing weeks, here passed in the bosom of
humanity, letters came to hand from the British Minister at Lisbon, in
answer to a memorial, that I should have stated to have been drawn up by
the friendly captain before his departure from that port, with a detail
of facts deposed and sworn to by Nicolas Pedrosa; which memorial, with
the documents attached to it, was forwarded to the Spanish court by
special express from the Portuguese premier. By these letters it
appeared, that the high dignity of the person impeached, by this
statement of facts, had not been sufficient to screen him from a very
serious and complete investigation; in the course of which, facts had
been so clearly brought home to him, by the confession of his several
agents, and the testimony of the deceased Leonora's attendants, together
with her own written declaration, whilst the poison was in operation,
that though no public sentence had been executed upon the criminal, it
was generally understood, he was either no longer in existence, or in a
situation never to be heard of any more, till roused by the awakening
trump, he should be summoned to his tremendous last account. As for the
unhappy widower, it was fully signified to him, from authority, that his
return to Spain, whether upon exchange or parole, would be no longer
opposed; nor had he any thing to apprehend on the part of government,
when he should arrive there. The same was signified in fewer words to
the exculpated Pedrosa.

Whether Don Manuel de Casafonda will, at a future period, avail himself
of the overtures, time alone can prove: as for little Nicolas, whose
prize-money has set him up in a comfortable little shop in Duke's-place,
where he breathes the veins and cleanses the bowels of his Israelitish
brethren in a land of freedom and toleration, his merry heart is at
rest, save only when, with fire in his eyes and vengeance on his tongue,
he anathematizes the inquisition; and struts in the synagogue every
Sabbath, with as bold a step and as erect a look, as if he was himself
High Priest of the Temple, going to perform sacrifices upon the
re-assembling of the scattered tribes.




LITTLE DOMINICK.


Little Dominick was born at Fort-Reilly, in Ireland, and bred no where
till his tenth year; when he was sent to Wales, to learn manners and
grammar, at the school of Mr Owen ap Davies ap Jenkins ap Jones. This
gentleman had reason to think himself the greatest of men; for he had,
over his chimney-piece, a well-smoked genealogy, duly attended, tracing
his ancestry in a direct line up to Noah; and, moreover, he was nearly
related to the learned etymologist, who, in the time of Queen Elizabeth,
wrote a folio volume, to prove that the language of Adam and Eve, in
Paradise, was pure Welch. With such causes to be proud, Mr Owen ap
Davies ap Jenkins ap Jones was excuseable, for sometimes seeming to
forget that a schoolmaster is but a man. He, however, sometimes entirely
forgot, that a boy is a boy; and this happened most frequently with
respect to Little Dominick.

This unlucky wight was flogged every morning by his master; not for
vices, but for his vicious constructions: and laughed at by his
companions every evening, for his idiomatic absurdities. They would
probably have been inclined to sympathise in his misfortunes, but that
he was the only Irish boy at school; and as he was at a distance from
all his relations, and without a friend to take his part, he was a just
object of obloquy and derision. Every sentence he spoke was a bull;
every two words he put together proved a false concord; and every sound
he articulated betrayed the brogue; but as he possessed some of the
characteristic boldness of those that have been dipped in the Shannon,
though he was only Little Dominick, he shewed himself able and willing
to fight his own battles with the host of foes by whom he was
encompassed. Some of these, it was said, were nearly twice his stature.
This may be exaggerated; but it is certain, that our hero sometimes
ventured, with sly Irish humour, to revenge himself on his more powerful
tyrant, by mimicking the Welch accent, in which Mr Owen ap Jones said to
him--"Cot bless me, you plockit, and shall I ever _learn_ you Enclish
crammer?"

It was whispered in the year of our Dionysius, that our little hero was
a mimick; and he was now treated with increased severity.

The midsummer holidays approached; but he feared that they would shine
no holidays for him. He had written to his mother, to tell her that the
school would break up on the 21st, and to beg an answer, without fail,
by return of post: but no answer came.

It was now nearly two months since he had heard from his dear mother, or
any of his friends in Ireland. His spirits began to sink under the
pressure of these accumulated misfortunes: he slept little, ate less,
and played none at all. Indeed, nobody would play with him on equal
terms, because he was nobody's equal: his schoolfellows continued to
consider him as a being below, if not of a different _cast_ from
themselves.

Mr Owen ap Jones's triumph over the little Irish plockit was nearly
complete, for the boy's heart was almost broken, when there came to the
school a new scholar--O, how unlike the others!--His name was Edwards:
he was the son of a neighbouring Welch gentleman; and he had himself the
spirit of a gentleman. When he saw poor Dominick was persecuted, he took
him under his protection; fought his battles with the Welch boys; and,
instead of laughing at him for speaking Irish, he endeavoured to teach
him to speak English. In his answer to the first questions Edwards ever
asked him, Little Dominick made two blunders, which set all his other
companions in a roar; yet Edwards would not allow them to be genuine
bulls.

In answer to the question--"Who is your father?" Dominick said, with a
deep sigh--"I have no father--I am an orphan--I have only a mother."

"Have you any brothers and sisters?"

"No! I wish I had; for, perhaps, they would love me, and not laugh at
me," said Dominick, with tears in his eyes; "but I have no brothers _but
myself_."

One day, Mr Owen ap Jones came into the school-room with an open letter
in his hand, saying--"Here you little Irish plockit; here's a letter
from your mother."

The little Irish blockhead started from his form; and, throwing his
grammar on the floor, leaped up higher than he or any boy in the school
had ever been seen to leap before; then, clapping his hands, he
exclaimed--"A letter from my mother! And _will_ I hear the letter?--And
_will_ I see her once more?--And _will_ I go home these holidays?--O,
then I will be too happy!"

"There's no tanger of that," said Mr Owen ap Jones, "for your mother,
like a wise woman, writes me here, that, py the atvice of your cardian,
to hom she is coing to be married, she will not pring you home to
Ireland, till I send her word that you are perfect in your Enclish
crammar at least."

"I have my lesson perfect, Sir," said Dominick, taking his grammar up
from the floor; "_will_ I say it now?"

"No, you plockit, you _will_ not; and I will write your mother word, you
have proke Priscian's head four times this day, since the letter came."

Little Dominick, for the first time was seen to burst into
tears--"_Will_ I hear the letter?--_Will_ I see my mother?--_Will_ I go
home?"

"You Irish plockit, will you never learn the difference between _shall_
and _will_?"

    "And _will_ I see him once again?
     And _will_ I hear him speak?"

Many of the boys were, unfortunately, too ignorant to feel the force of
the quotation; but Mr Owen ap Jones understood it, turned on his heel,
and walked off.

Soon afterward, he summoned little Dominick to his awful desk; and,
pointing with his ruler to the following page in Harris's Hermes, bade
him read it, and understand it if he could.

Little Dominick read, but could not understand.

"Then read it aloud, you plockit."

Dominick read aloud--

"There is _nothing appears so clearly_ an object of the mind, or
intellect only, as the _future_ does; since we can find no place for
it's existence any where else; not but the same, if we consider, _is
equally true_ of the past--."

"Well, co on--What stops the plockit?--Cant you read Enclish now?"

"Yes, Sir; but I was trying to understand it--I was considering, that
this is like what they would call an Irish bull, if I had said it."

Little Dominick could not explain what he meant in English, but Mr Owen
ap Jones _would_ understand; and to punish him for his impertinent
observation, the boy was doomed to learn all that Harris and Lowth have
written to explain the nature of _shall_ and _will_.--The reader, if he
be desirous of knowing the full extent of the penance enjoined, may
consult Lowth's Grammar, p. 52, ed. 1799; and Harris's Hermes, p. 10,
11, and 12, fourth edition.

Undismayed by the length of his task, Little Dominick only said--"I
hope, if I say it all, without missing a word, you will not give my
mother a bad account of me and my grammar studies, Sir."

"Say it all at first, without missing a word, and then I shall see what
I shall say!" replied Mr Owen ap Jones.

Even the encouragement of this oracular answer excited the boy's fond
hopes so keenly, that he lent his little soul to the task; learned it
perfectly; said it at night, without missing one word, to his friend
Edwards; and said it, the next morning, without missing one word, to his
master.

"And now, Sir," said the boy, looking up, "will you write my
mother?--And shall I see her?--And shall I go home?"

"Tell me, first, whether you understand all this that you have learnt so
cliply?" said Mr Owen ap Jones.

That was more than his bond. Our hero's countenance fell; and he
acknowledged that he did not understand it perfectly.

"Then I cannot write a coot account of you and your crammar studies to
your mother; my conscience coes against it!" said the conscientious Mr
Owen ap Jones.

No intreaties could move him. Dominick never saw the letter that was
written to his mother; but he felt the consequence. She wrote word, that
time, punctually _by return of the post_, that she was sorry she could
not send for him home these holidays, as she had heard so bad an account
from Mr Owen ap Jones, and she thought it her duty not to interrupt the
course of his education, especially his grammar studies.

Little Dominick heaved many a sigh, when he saw the packings up of all
his schoolfellows; and dropped a few tears, as he looked out of the
window, and saw them, one after another, get on their Welch ponies, and
gallop off towards their homes.

"I have no home to go to!"

"Yes, you have," cried Edwards; "and _our_ horses are at the door, to
carry us there."

"To Ireland? Me! the horses!" said the poor boy quite bewildered.

"No, the horses cannot carry you to Ireland," said Edwards, laughing
good-naturedly; "but you have a home now in England. I asked my father
to let me bring you home with me; and he said--"Yes," like a dear, good
father, and has sent the horses--Come, let's away."

"But will Mr Owen ap Jones let me go?"

"Yes, he dare not refuse; for my father has a living in his gift, that
Owen ap Jones wants, and which he will not have if he do not change his
tone to you."

Little Dominick could not speak one word, his heart was so full.

No boy could be happier than he was, during these holidays: "the genial
current of his soul," which had been frozen by unkindness, flowed with
all its natural freedom and force.

Whatever his reasons might be, Mr Owen ap Jones, from this time forward,
was observed to change his manners towards his Irish pupil. He never
more complained, unjustly, of his preaking Priscian's head; seldom
called him Irish plockit; and once, would have flogged a Welch boy for
taking up this cast expression of the master's, but that the Irish
blockhead begged the culprit off.

Little Dominick got forward rapidly in his studies: he soon surpassed
every boy in the school, his friend Edwards only excepted. In process of
time, his guardian removed him to a higher seminary of education.
Edwards had a tutor at home. The friends separated. Afterwards, they
followed different professions, in distant parts of the world; and they
neither saw, nor heard any more of each other, for many years.

Dominick, now no longer Little Dominick, went over to India, as private
secretary to one of our commanders in chief. How he got into this
situation, or by what gradations he rose in the world, we are not
exactly informed; we know, only, that he was the reputed author of a
much admired pamphlet on India affairs; that the dispatches of the
general, to whom he was secretary, were remarkably well written; and
that Dominick O'Reilly, Esq. returned to England, after several years
absence, not miraculously rich, but with a fortune equal to his wishes.
His wishes were not extravagant: his utmost ambition was, to return to
his native country, with a fortune that should enable him to live
independently of all the world; especially, of some of his relations,
who had not used him well. His mother was no more!

On his arrival in London, one of the first things he did, was to read
the Irish newspapers. To his inexpressible joy, he saw the estate of
Fort-Reilly advertised for sale--the very estate which belonged to his
own family. Away he posted directly to an attorney's, in Cecil-Street,
who was empowered to dispose of the land.

When the attorney had produced a map of the well-known demesne, and an
elevation of the house in which he had spent the happiest hours of his
infancy, his heart was so touched, that he was on the point of paying
down more for an old ruin than a good new house would have cost. The
attorney acted _honestly by his client_, and seized this moment to
exhibit a plan of the stabling and offices; which, as sometimes is the
case in Ireland, were in a stile far superior to the dwelling-house. Our
hero surveyed these with transport. He rapidly planned various
improvements in imagination, and planted certain favourite spots in the
demesne! During this time, the attorney was giving directions to a clerk
about some other business, when the name of Owen ap Jones struck his
ear--He started.

"Let him wait in the front parlour; his money is not forthcoming," said
the attorney; "and, if he keep Edwards in jail till he rots----"

"Edwards! Good heavens!--in jail!--What Edwards?" exclaimed our hero.

It was his friend Edwards!

The attorney told him, that Mr Edwards had been involved in great
distress, by taking on himself his father's debts, which had been
incurred in exploring a mine in Wales; that, of all the creditors, none
had refused to compound, except a Welch parson, who had been presented
to his living by old Edwards; and that this Mr Owen ap Jones had thrown
young Mr Edwards into goal for his debt.

"What is the rascal's demand? He shall be paid off this instant," cried
Dominick, throwing down the plan of Fort-Reilly: "send for him up, and
let me pay him off on the spot."

"Had not we best finish our business first, about the O'Reilly estate,
Sir?" said the attorney.

"No, Sir; d----n the O'Reilly estate!" cried he, huddling the maps
together on the desk; and, taking up the bank-notes, which he had begun
to reckon for the purchase-money--"I beg your pardon, Sir--If you knew
the facts, you would excuse me--Why does not the rascal come up to be
paid?"

The attorney, thunderstruck by his Hibernian impetuosity, had not found
time to take his pen out of his mouth. As he sat transfixed in his
arm-chair, O'Reilly ran to the head of the stairs, and called out in a
Stentorian voice--"Here, you Mr Owen ap Jones, come up, and be paid off
this instant, or you shall never be paid _at all_."

Up stairs hobbled the old schoolmaster, as fast as the gout and Welch
ale would let him--"Cot pless me, that voice!" he began--

"Where's your bond, Sir?" said the attorney.

"Safe here, Cot be praised!" said the terrified Owen ap Jones; pulling
out of his bosom, first a blue pocket-handkerchief, and then a tattered
Welch grammar, which O'Reilly kicked to the farther end of the room.

"Here is my pond," said he, "in the crammar," which he gathered from the
ground; then, fumbling over the leaves, he at length unfolded the
precious deposit.

O'Reilly saw the bond, seized it, looked at the sum, paid it into the
attorney's hands, tore the seal from the bond; then, without looking at
old Owen ap Jones, whom he dared not trust himself to, he clapped his
hat on his head, and rushed out of the room. He was, however, obliged to
come back again, to ask where Edwards was to be found.

"In the King's Bench prison, Sir," said the attorney. "But am I to
understand," cried he, holding up the map of the O'Reilly estate, "am I
to understand that you have no farther wish for this bargain?"

"Yes--No--I mean, you are to understand that I am off," replied our
hero, without out looking back--"I'm off--That's plain English."

Arriving at the King's Bench prison, he hurried to the apartment where
Edwards was confined--The bolts flew back; for even the turnkeys seemed
to catch our hero's enthusiasm.

"Edwards, my dear boy! how do you do?--Here's a bond debt, justly due to
you for my education--O, never mind asking unnecessary questions, only
just make haste out of this undeserved abode--Our old rascal is paid
off--Owen ap Jones, you know--Well, how the man stares:--Why, now, will
you have the assurance to pretend to forget who I am?--and must I
_spake_," continued he, assuming the tone of his childhood--"And must I
_spake_ to you again, in my old Irish brogue, before you will
_ricollict_ your own _Little Dominick_?"

When his friend Edwards was out of prison, and our hero had leisure to
look into the business, he returned to the attorney, to see that Mr Owen
ap Jones had been satisfied.

"Sir," said the attorney, "I have paid the plaintiff in this suit, and
he is satisfied; but, I must say," added he, with a contemptuous smile,
"that you Irish gentlemen are rather in too great a hurry in doing
business: business, Sir, is a thing that must be done slowly, to be well
done."

"I am ready, now, to do business as slowly as you please; but when my
friend was in prison, I thought the quicker I did his business the
better. Now, tell me, what mistake I have made, and I will rectify it
instantly."

"Instantly!--'Tis well, Sir, with your promptitude, that you have to
deal with, what prejudice thinks so very uncommon--an honest
attorney.--Here are some bank-notes of yours, amounting to a good round
sum!--You have made a little blunder in this business; you left me the
penalty instead of the principal of the bond--twice as much as you
should have done." "Just twice as much as was in the bond; but not twice
as much as I should have done, in my opinion!" said O'Reilly: "but,
whatever I did, it was with my eyes open. I was persuaded you was an
honest man; in which you see, I was not mistaken: and as a man of
business, I knew that you would pay Mr Owen ap Jones only his due. The
remainder of the money I meant, and now mean, should lie in your hands
for my friend Edward's use. I feared he would not have taken it from my
hands, and therefore left it in yours. To have taken my friend out of
prison, merely to let him go back again to-day, for want of money to
keep himself clear with the world, would have been a blunder indeed! but
not an Irish blunder: our Irish blunders are never blunders of the
heart."




PERVONTE, or the WISHES.


Astolpho, King of Salernum, was the handsomest prince of his time. None
of his loyal subjects ventured to contest the superiority in point of
beauty with him, whatever might have been the secret opinion of some
courtiers, when contemplating their own features in the looking-glasses
of the anti-chamber. The king was fond of this piece of furniture; it
presented to him a figure of which he had a very favourable opinion. He
arrived, however, imperceptibly, at a period of life when his faithful
looking-glasses did not do their duty so much to his satisfaction as
they had done formerly. It was his comfort that one remained, which
reflected all his youthful charms. His daughter, the charming Vastola,
seemed, in the opinion of all the courtiers, to be cast in the same
mould with her father. Her beauty subdued the proudest hearts; none of
the most distinguished princes and knights had approached her with
impunity; but none of them were handsome enough to make an impression on
the haughty princess. She indeed permitted them to draw her triumphal
ear till they were out of breath; and being desirous to preserve the
number of her admirers undiminished, she bestowed, now and then, by
turns, a little smile on each of them; but this smile was always allayed
with a coldness that deprived of its effect, and nipped the rising hopes
in the bud. The king, who was not partial to the name of grand-papa,
permitted his daughter to enjoy the delights of maiden cruelty; and,
till her twentieth year, this goddess of Salernum, though surrounded
with love-sick youths, who melted in the rays of her beauty, continued
to be cold and obdurate in the midst of the flames.

A singular event, which happened about this time, calls our attention
from the court to a neighbouring forest. On a fine summer-morning, a
young hind entered this wood, in order to gather a bundle of faggots. I
wish I could borrow the pencil of nature, to draw a faithful picture of
one of her roughest crudities. Standing by his bundle, in the most lazy
posture imaginable, he scratched his big head, divided by a vast mouth
into two hemispheres. Short red bristles covered his head, and seemed to
blaze round his temples; his ears were of an extraordinary length; but
his nose being exceedingly flat, shewed hardly any thing but a pair of
wide nostrils; a short neck seemed to sink between two very broad
shoulders; and two short bandy legs supported the beautiful structure.
With such a sort of figure, he was yet one of those strange beings who
seldom fail meeting with extraordinary turns of good luck: for fortune,
whatever reason you and I may have to complain of her, is generally
equitable in taking particular care of mortals of this cast, by making
amends for the niggardness of nature. Pervonte (this was the name of our
hero) was son and heir to a good woman, who for many years past had
earned a scanty subsistence for herself and her son by spinning.
Contented with her humble lot, she worked very hard, and knew scarce any
other pastime but the music of her wheel. She thought herself
sufficiently happy, when she saw, at noon, her little pot of broth on
the fire, and when she had fuel enough to keep the winter's cold out of
her cottage. Her only cause of grief was, the impossibility to make any
thing of her son, whose stupidity baffled every attempt of his mother to
teach him any useful occupation. There appeared no marks of curiosity,
fancy, or reflection, in him; he did not take to any work, and spent the
whole day stretched lazily on a couch of straw near the fire-side; his
eyes were usually half shut, and he amused himself with sucking his
short fingers. Whenever his mother attempted to rouse him, he complained
of pains in his limbs; yet now and then he would, with many a groan,
carry a few logs of wood into the kitchen; or, he would, at his mother's
repeated request, drive, very calmly, the geese out of the garden, where
they eat up the cabbage. This was all the good woman's rhetoric was able
to obtain from him. Otherwise, he was a very harmless creature,
undisturbed with the desire of prying into other's secrets, far from
being quarrelsome, and interested in only one single concern, that of
satisfying, no matter with what sort of food, the cravings of his
stomach. He perfectly resembled that great philosopher in Horace, who,
careless for what purpose the gods have created this beautiful universe,
sees, without alteration, the sun and moon dart their bright rays on
distant worlds; and who, wrapt up closely and warmly in the cloak of
dullness and apathy, has neither the heart to love or to hate, nor the
sense to blame or to approve.

On that morning, when Pervonte attracts our notice, his mother happened
to have no fuel in her cottage. Her indolent son sat, with his usual
tranquillity, eating, with great satisfaction, a large luncheon of bread
for his breakfast: 'Pervonte,' said his mother, 'be for once good for
something; thou seest this pot will never boil without fire; get up, my
boy, take thy hat, and away to the forest; the storm has beat down a
great many branches last night; thou wilt have easy work to-day; go, and
bring me a large bundle of faggots.' Pervonte happened to be in a good
humour; he accordingly gave himself the rousing shake, and sauntered
towards the wood. He stopped more than once to gaze about, as if he had
never been there before, and seemed to be surprised that there were so
many trees in the forest. At length he fell to work, and got a tolerable
bundle of faggots together. When he had done, he made a long pause, to
rest himself. 'What a fine thing it would be now,' thought he, 'if
somebody were to carry this burden home to my mother!' However, nobody
came to do him this good office, and he was obliged to lift the bundle
on his own broad shoulders, and to walk off with it. He had just cleared
the bushes, and came into the open field, when the sun began to be very
powerful. He stopt again; and, as he happened to cast his eyes about, he
saw three women asleep, lying on the grass, exposed to the heat of the
sun-beams: they were young, and exceedingly beautiful. Pervonte went
near, examined them with great attention, shut his little eyes for
pleasure, and gazed again. The magic of beauty soon humanises even the
most unfeeling brute. 'What a pity,' said Pervonte to himself, 'that
these comely young creatures should lie in the heat of the sun, without
any shelter! The bushes are not far off, what if I went back and cut
some boughs to serve them for a screen?' He executed this resolution
immediately. He cut off six branches, fixed them in the ground as well
as he could, and drew a green umbrella about the sleeping beauties. To
render the shelter more complete, he spread his jacket on the top of the
boughs.

No work had ever prospered more in Pervonte's hands than the present.
Pleased with his own dexterity, he burst out into a loud horse laugh, so
loud indeed, as to wake the beautiful nymphs from their slumber. 'Art
thou the kind mortal,' said one of them to Pervonte, 'who made us this
shelter?' Pervonte, however inwardly gratified by this question, did not
answer a single word, but grinned graciously at the ladies, twirling his
old hat about his thumb, in the same manner as a wheel turns about its
axle. 'Thy good-nature shall not go unrewarded,' continued the lady,
'know, Pervonte, we are fairies; and though there are people who find
fault with us, thou shalt be convinced that, at least, we do not want
gratitude. Ask whatever boon thou wilt, thy request shall be immediately
granted.' At these words the fairies disappeared, Pervonte kept his eyes
still rivetted on the deserted spot; and when he was at length convinced
they were gone, he cried--'Fine ladies, I warrant ye! What sweet words
and looks they gave me? I thought I should have had a bag full of gold
and silver; and now, after all, their promises turn out to be no more
than air!' Honest Pervonte now returned to his faggots, lifted up his
burden with great reluctance, and at length placed it on his shoulders.
He was very sensible of its weight: 'How hard it is,' cried he, 'that I
should take the trouble to carry these faggots! would to God they would
carry me!' The word had no sooner escaped his lips, when, on a sudden,
an animal life seemed to penetrate the wood; the bundle slipped gently
between his legs, and making a seat softer than a cushion, lifted him up
from the ground, and ran away as the best horse could have carried him,
'Bravo!' cries Pervonte, 'you fairies are as good as your word: I said
it in joke, and you take it in good earnest; but if you will have it so,
I have no objection.--So go on, my horse, the straight way to my
mother's.' The shortest way went through the city, close by the palace.
Imagine to yourselves the noise and laughter such a singular piece of
horsemanship occasioned in the streets! At every step, the throng, the
astonishment, and the shouts of the populace, increased. Pervonte,
perfectly at his ease in the midst of all this bustle, rode on with
great unconcern: the bundle, when the people crowded too much on the
rider, dealt out hearty blows to the right and to the left, and cleared
its way through every obstacle. When our hero arrived at the square
before the palace, the princess and her ladies opened the windows, to
look at the strange rider; but as her highness happened to be in a
perverse humour that morning, the general mirth gave her the spleen.
'Nonsense!' she cried, 'to make such a noise about that ugly monster:
the horse is wretched enough in conscience, yet a thousand times too
good for the moon-calf that rides on it.' Unluckily for the princess,
Pervonte was just passing under the window as she spoke. Though his
other senses were far from being acute, he had a pair of large and quick
ears, which did not lose a syllable of the compliment her Royal Highness
paid his person. He was nettled at her contempt. 'So, my proud lady,'
said he to himself, 'you call me a monster! a moon-calf! if I was even
ten times uglier, I could wish you might have a couple of twins by me,
and be turned out of doors to beg your bread; and then, it is ten to
one, we should see you caress and flatter me as much as you scorn me
now.'

With these words Pervonte galloped away; and in a few minutes he lost
sight of the city, forgot his anger, and arrived safely at the cottage,
to the great consternation of his good mother. This good woman asked him
a thousand questions concerning his strange expedition; but her
ingenuous son had but little to say about it: he told his mother nothing
but incoherent nonsense, and so entangled himself in bundles, bushes,
and princesses, that he could not find the cue of the labyrinth. His
mother's patience was at length tired: she left off questioning, and he
blundering, and the accident was soon entirely forgot. Pervonte remained
exactly what he had been; he continued to vegetate without thought or
care; he had still no other desire, but that of eating and lolling on
his couch. By this manner of living he got very healthy blood, preserved
an excellent digestion, and no trouble or vexation interrupted his
tranquillity.

But, alas! the case was very different with the princess. Four months
had scarce elapsed since the wooden trot of Pervonte, when the taylor of
her Highness received secret orders to enlarge the measure of her
petticoats. It is true, she was still equally cruel to her admirers;
none of them could boast of the slightest favour from her; yet, in spite
of her prudery, her shape acquired every day a more visible rotundity.
In short, at the end of nine months, this haughty beauty was brought to
bed, in perfect good health, of two girls. This surprising event was
ushered in by the severe comments of all the matrons, and by very
significant shrugs of the courtiers. His majesty's rage, and the
princess's shame, were equally great; the latter took it very ill, that
the babies should bear witness against her pure unsullied reputation.
The young lords gave themselves very important airs on the occasion:
each of them hinted, that he had particular reasons to conceal his own
share in this event; while, in secret, every one cursed his entire
innocence of the fact, and endeavoured, with malicious curiosity, to
find out the favoured culprit. To complete the picture of what passed at
court, and in the city, figure to yourselves the profound silence which
reigned in the anti-chamber, the eloquent nods, the whispers behind the
fan, the indignant ejaculations of the grave citizen ladies, the fear of
all the young prudes to be visited with a similar dropsy, the ingenious
jests of the wits, and the deep researches of the learned academicans.
These gentlemen succeeded, indeed, in proving, in a series of
dissertations, that the reality of this strange phenomenon implied its
possibility. They accounted for the fact, by suggesting, that her Royal
Highness must have picked up by chance a couple of ready-prepared atoms
floating in the air, and conveyed to her by a Zephyr, which, by a
gradual evolution, had at length acquired such a state of maturity, as
to assume the size and the form of the very pretty daughters of which
the princess had been lately delivered. The light so plentifully
diffused over this intricate subject was, however, not quite
satisfactory to the King, whose anger continued unabated; and who was
too strongly prejudiced in favour of the vulgar theory of human
propagation, to be convinced by the system of his philosophers. He
pursued his enquiries a different way, but without success. The
Princess, who was at least as much concerned in the affair, and might
have been supposed to have had the best information, made oath, that she
could not account for what had happened; and it was necessary to
acquiesce, for the present, in this declaration.

In the meanwhile, the twins, begot by a mere wish, grew up. They were
exceedingly handsome; and, might, perhaps, in due time, have turned out
very amiable, had there been no nurses, governesses, and chambermaids,
at the court of Salernum. When they were about six years old, the Lord
Chancellor, a man of great sagacity, happening to converse with the king
on the birth of his grand-daughters, bethought himself of a method to
discover their father, which he communicated with great confidence to
his royal master. 'Sire,' said the learned lord, 'I have read long ago,
in a school-book, I believe it is Terence, that there is an innate
instinct in children, by the force of which they will discover their
true father among a whole legion of men; so great a classic author
cannot be mistaken. We have nothing to do but to introduce all the lords
of the court to the young ladies, and nature will soon point out their
father.' The king was much pleased with the doctrine of instinct, and
resolved to try the experiment without loss of time. He gave orders
that, on the next court-day, every nobleman should not fail to attend,
on pain of his majesty's heaviest displeasure. On the appointed day, the
beautiful twins were seen, for the first time, in the drawing-room, to
the great surprise of the court: but the reason of their appearing in
public was kept a profound secret. All the noblemen of Salernum were
directed to pass in review before the children, but without effect; not
the least trace of instinct manifested itself in them. After the
drawing-room was over, the Chancellor, not at all disconcerted by the
failure of the experiment, maintained to the King, that it was now
certain that none of these noblemen had the honour of being the father
to his grand-children; but that the truth of the doctrine of instinct
was not the least affected by this disappointment. 'What if your
majesty,' continued he, 'should condescend to give a ball to the
citizens; perhaps--' 'You don't mean to insinuate,' interrupted the king
in a passion, 'that a citizen should be the author of my disgrace? No,
it is impossible my daughter should have degraded herself so low!'--'I
humbly beg your majesty's pardon,' replied the chancellor; 'to be sure,
it is very improbable; yet we must allow, that much stranger things than
this have happened. "Opportunity makes thieves," says the proverb. "The
sex is frail, and love is blind," says my friend Terence.'--'There your
friend is in the right,' said the King. 'Well, then, you shall have your
will; a ball shall be given to the citizens, and I myself will dance
with some of these city-beauties. They have often fine eyes, and fresh
complexions; and a stomach relaxed by dainties longs sometimes for less
refined dishes.' This unexpected invitation to a ball at court, brought
together whatever belonged to the city beau monde. The king had his
dance; but the secret purpose of this festival was again defeated. The
two sister graces, superbly dressed, and sparkling with lace and jewels,
were very conspicuous in the crowd; but mother Nature never spoke a
syllable to their tender souls in favour of any city relation. 'Now,
Sire,' said the positive chancellor, 'there remains yet a third
experiment to clear up this mysterious affair; a general entertainment
to all ranks and conditions.'--'With all my heart,' replied the king;
'only take care that my honest subjects may have plenty of victuals and
sport.' The festival was immediately proclaimed by the sound of
trumpets; provisions were brought together by numberless waggons; an
enormous pile of turkeys, fowls, rabbits, pheasants, venison, and
puddings, was raised in a public place, for which the populace were to
scramble on the great day of the feast. This important day, expected
with the utmost impatience by all ranks and ages, at length came on.
Before sun-rise, every individual at Salernum was in motion; the sound
of drums and trumpets, mingled with the joyful shouts of the populace;
the windows which surrounded the square were filled with the busts of
the fine ladies; and the people crowded towards the square from every
street of the town. A thousand eager eyes were fixed on the pyramid of
eatables, and marked out their hoped-for prey: they could scarcely
refrain from pillage, till the signal for the general attack should be
given.

Pervonte's mother, who could not remain ignorant of the general
agitation, said to her son--'Why dost not thou go too, my boy? Thou
canst not fail of getting, at least, a ham or a fowl in the scramble:
run thither, and make what haste thou canst.' The hope of such a reward
made Pervonte obey with uncommon alacrity; and he set out from his
mother's at a moderate gallop, a thing which he was never known to do
before. In the mean while, the court, who on this occasion (probably to
enhance the pleasure their appearance was to give) suffered the good
people to wait very long for their coming, had at length taken their
places on an amphitheatre built for that purpose. Every body was charmed
to see the pretty children, wearing fine caps in the newest fashion, sit
near the foot of the large pyramid. Two long rows of youths and handsome
girls were already formed, in order to begin a grand dance; when our
clown, conspicuous by the burning red of his hair, arrived in the midst
of the crowd; and, wonderful to tell! the children no sooner perceived
him making up to the pile, dirty as he was, in a ragged jacket, with
uncombed hair, and without shoes, than they ran eagerly towards him with
open arms, and every mark of filial affection. The spectators were lost
in amazement. 'Was I not in the right now?' said the lord chancellor to
the king: 'is not now my doctrine of instinct clearly proved?'--'Cursed
instinct!' cried the king, in a violent rage: 'Must I live to suffer
such a disgrace? Must I have grand-children begotten by such an ugly
wretch? Tortures and death cannot sufficiently punish such a vile
profanation of majesty!' The unfortunate princess, not conscious of any
guilt, begged hard to be heard; but her father threatened her with
instant death, if she dared to utter a word in her defence. Luckily for
her, he cast his eyes on a large cask which stood near the pile, filled,
according to custom, with very indifferent wine, destined to rejoice the
hearts of his majesty's loyal subjects. The king ordered the bottom to
be knocked out, and sentenced the delinquents to be put into this cask,
and to be thrown into the sea. The merciless command was immediately put
in execution. The crying children, the innocent princess, and honest
Pervonte, who was now no longer doubted to be the happy lover, were
crammed up in this dismal place of confinement, and abandoned to the
mercy of the waves.

Imagine now to yourselves, our Vastola, a princess, and a first-rate
beauty, degraded at once from the highest eminence of grandeur and
admiration, abandoned to the rage of the angry ocean, in a moist cask,
with twins she cannot acknowledge, and for whom she yet feels all the
tenderness of a mother; and, what aggravated the distress, and might
have also tempted her to become another Medea, confined with such a
paramour! and this charming companion, this Adonis, with the figure and
the elegance of a muleteer, publicly declared the father of her
daughters! It must be owned, the situation was novel and insupportable;
especially if you consider, that the space which contained the princess,
the clown, and the two children, was so narrow, that, by every motion of
the waves, their legs and arms were unavoidably more and more entangled:
his nose often touched the thin gauze which covered her graceful neck;
and frequently half an inch was the whole interval between her delicate
lips and his immense mouth. All these sufferings, put together, would
have been too much for the haughtiest of her sex; but, in a scene of
complicated distress, which would have driven vulgar minds to despair,
the high spirit of Vastola displayed all the magnanimity of her princely
nature. By the silent scorn, with which her looks annihilated Pervonte,
she shewed that her misfortunes only raised her soul higher. 'How unjust
is the suspicion,' she exclaimed at length, in the bitterness of
indignation, that I should owe my daughters to the embrace of such a
wretch!'--'Faith,' replied Pervonte, very quietly, 'you may be sure that
I don't like this joke a bit better than yourself, to be locked up with
you, and to dance on the waves in this moist cask! You think, perhaps,
it is a vast pleasure to me to pass for the father of your little
bastards there; you know, probably, much better than I, how you came by
them.'--'How should I have had them by thee,' answered the princess,
'who never saw thee in all my life-time?'--'As to that, Madam Vastola,
you might pay a little more regard to truth.'--'Alas! now I think of it,
surely I recollect thee by thy burning red hair and thy vast mouth: art
thou not the fellow, who, about seven years ago, rode on a bundle of
sticks over the square before our palace?'--'The very same; I remember
that ride as well as if it had happened but yesterday: I can't forget
how you tossed up your nose, and called me pretty names, such as
monster! and moon-calf! I own it vexed me; and I wished, saving your
worship's presence, you might be with twins by me, in order to see
whether you would then treat me still so haughtily. I meant it only for
a joke; you know best how you made earnest of it, but that about that
time the fairies had promised me to fulfil all my wishes.'--'How!' cried
the princess, 'hadst thou ever such a gift from the fairies?'--'To be
sure I had; my riding on a bundle of faggots was owing to
them.'--'Perhaps thou art still in possession of this gift?'--'Not that
I know of.'--'And hast thou never tried it?'--'There was no occasion for
my trying it; there was always broth enough in my mother's pot, and wood
enough to boil it; what else could I have wished for?'--'What a
philosopher have we got here!' cried Vastola; 'I see that stupidity, as
well as necessity, can form a cynic: but, I hope, friend, that now, when
every wave threatens us with unavoidable death, you will have the good
sense to try whither the fairies have still a mind to fulfil your
wishes; you cannot but see, that the assistance of the fairies could not
come in better time.'--'Why should I give myself the trouble of
wishing,' said Pervonte, 'perhaps for your sake? You have called me
monster, silly fellow, and philosopher: now it seems you have found out,
forsooth, that I am good enough for wishing.'--'What, my good friend,
are you in your senses? I meant no offence: pray, good Sir, let me
intreat you to make the trial.'--'So, Madam, now you are in distress,
you can give me fair words--I thought it would come to this; but let me
tell you, sweetheart, that Pervonte can be as obstinate as any of you;
my mother's son shall not surrender to you for less than a good hearty
kiss.'

The hand of fate pressed hard on poor Vastola; however distressing the
choice between two evils may be in other cases, here was no alternative.
Notwithstanding the opposition of her heart and her stomach, she saw she
must comply, and thanked Heaven that the fellow did not ask a much
greater favour. What would she not have done, rather than be devoured by
sharks and lobsters? In short, as there was no other expedient to escape
from imminent death, she kept her breath in, shut her eyes, and gave him
the kiss she could not refuse. 'One more,' cried Pervonte, 'and then you
may let me know what I shall wish for, before the leaky cask fills with
water.'--'That the cask may be changed into a beautiful vessel, well
provided with stores, manned with twenty stout sailors, and a pilot to
steer it towards the shore of Bajar.' Pervonte, who did not trust to his
faculties, desired her to repeat the words again, and he spoke every
syllable after her. While he was yet speaking, the cask was converted
into the most elegant bark the sun ever shone upon, since the river
Cydnus beheld Cleopatra, beaming with unequalled beauty, glide down his
current in her galley, when she intended to meet the great Anthony.
Vastola thought her eyes deceived her, when she saw the silk streamers
fluttering in the air like the wings of zephers; when she saw the silver
oars, the purple sails, the golden masts adorned with garlands of
flowers; the sailors, dressed as for a dance, resembling animated
pictures, who, without stopping, and in profound silence, plied the oars
in harmonious cadence. In short, everything was in such a stile of
perfection as might be expected from the workmanship of the fairies. The
princess, who now saw realized what seemed to her a dream, began to
consider Pervonte as a being of more importance than she had thought him
before, and than he really was: but our hero remained as silly as before
this metamorphosis; nor did he think higher of himself, on account of a
faculty which sat as aukwardly on him, as the talent of preaching on the
ass of Balaam. The impenetrable shield, which effectually secured him
against the sting of curiosity, and against the attack of every doubt,
was his implicit belief in the famous truth, that "things are what they
are."--'The ship exists,' said he; 'and as it exists, I cannot doubt of
its existence.' A sceptic would have suggested that it only seemed to
exist; but Pervonte, who belonged to no set of philosophers, convinced
himself, with eagerness and perseverance, of the reality of the eatables
he found in the ship, unconcerned about their possibility, and satisfied
that where there is good eating there is good living: while he, to whom
nothing existed but what he had under his teeth, was rumaging the stores
in the cabin; and while Vastola, who ceased to enjoy as soon as she
possessed, was planning new wishes, the bark, imperceptibly, proceeded
on her voyage with the fairest wind and weather, doubled a cape, and
made land that very evening, on the most beautiful shore in the
universe. Illumined by the rays of the setting sun, this shore seemed to
be the favourite residence of the vernal deities; a landscape created by
enchantment, and a thousand times more delightful than the romantic
scenes of Tinian and Juan Fernandez. On a nearer view, this spot seemed
to be a solitary valley, enclosed by gently sloping hills, and
interspersed with woods, from whence silver rivulets, bordered with
roses, rolled their meandering waters; and where choruses of
nightingales sung undisturbed their sweetest notes to the fragrant
grove. 'Let us land on this heavenly shore,' said Vastola to Pervonte;
'but, to live comfortably here, my good friend, we must trouble the
fairies with another wish.'--'I understand you,' cries Pervonte! 'faith,
nothing is more in time now than a new wish: what if I was to wish that
these green branches might be hung with joints of roast meat and
puddings?'--'Peace, you idiot!' said Vastola, reddening; 'must I ever
blush for you? Before the fairies take a present from thee, of which
thou so little knowest the use, resign the wishing to me, and be
contented to speak my words after me. Let the ship be changed into the
most beautiful palace human eyes ever beheld; let it be furnished with
magnificence and elegance; let the ceilings and pillars he adorned with
exquisite sculpture; let the walls be hung with the most costly
tapestry, richly gilt; let there be the finest pictures, busts, statues,
relievos, Etruscan vases, services of china and plate; in short, let
there be every thing belonging to the furniture of a royal palace: and
as it costs us only the trouble of wishing, let the palace be surrounded
with delicious pleasure-grounds, in which blooming spring and living
verdure reign for ever; let them exhale an atmosphere of the sweetest
perfumes; in the most retired recesses of a grove, let there be a marble
bath, handsome enough to invite Venus herself to take a plunge; let a
lake, frequented by charming swans, spread itself over a part of the
valley; let a crystal river, full of the finest fishes, wind gently
through flowery meadows; let there be a farm, a poultry-yard, flocks,
and cattle, and pretty shepherds and shepherdesses to take care of them;
let me have a number of female attendants, as handsome as Leda's
daughters, genteel pages, and servants; let----' 'Hold, hold, Vastola,'
interrupted Pervonte, 'how can the fairies remember so many things?' But
before Pervonte had spoken the last words, a magic palace rose before
his eyes, on which the fairies exhausted all their art. The princess
herself stood motionless, dazzled with the splendour of the magnificent
fabric. The palace of her father, compared with this mansion, dwindled
into a mean cottage. Pervonte gazed at the palace with the widest mouth
that ever was opened. Vastola, leading her lovely daughters by the hand,
entered the door in secret raptures. On the stair-case she was welcomed
by the harmony of the most delightful music. Pervonte found, among all
the presents of the fairies, not a more substantial one than a table
covered for four persons, and loaded with the most exquisite dainties.
They sat down to it: Pervonte did ample justice to the entertainment,
and seemed quite giddy with the meridian splendour which beamed forth
from an hundred lustres hung up in a long suite of apartments. Sometimes
he burst out in a loud laugh of joy; roared his thanks to the fairies,
and toasted them in many a bumper. His spirits rose to such a pitch,
that, at the dessert, he began to grow very familiar with the princess;
who, being afraid of the too expressive tenderness of his rough hands,
was obliged to draw her chair by degrees to the farthest corner of the
table; it was now high time for Vastola to own to herself, what, in
spite of her pride, she could not help perceiving, the catastrophe of
the drama was drawing near. Disgusting as Pervonte was, with his big
round head, his burning hair, and his clumsy figure, yet what could she
do? The twins, the cask, and the palace, had unalterably decided her
destiny: nothing remained now but the alternative of living like a
vestal, or of taking Pervonte for her husband. It is true, a fortune
such as he had to offer facilitated the choice; yet, on the other side,
was such a vulgar, ill-shapen fellow, to be the husband of the delicate
and accomplished Princess Vastola? It could not be, it was yoking an owl
with a swan to draw the car of Venus. 'Pervonte,' said the princess,
after some uneasy thoughts, 'your fairies have been very bountiful to
you; yet something, my good friend, is still wanting. You have,
probably, never seen your own figure in a looking-glass; pray, examine
it a little, and be candid enough to own, that if it was changed from
head to foot, you could not possibly be a loser by any
metamorphosis.'--'What,' cries Pervonte, 'my figure to be changed! and
for what purpose?'--'To be handsome.'--'Handsome! why, sweetheart, I
would not stir a finger to become handsome. I was always very well
satisfied with my figure; however, if it gives you pleasure, may I be
from head to foot exactly as you wish me to be.'--'I do not wish thee
too handsome neither,' thought Vastola to herself; 'mayest thou be
somewhat of an Adonis, but yet strong as Millo; a little taller than
myself; in short, less delicate than manly, and thou wilt be handsome
enough for me.' Let us observe here, that Vastola did not think, much
less speak openly, in this manner; it was only a half-rising thought,
which scarcely ventured out of the inmost recesses of her heart. What
was her surprize, when she saw Pervonte standing before her, completely
and exactly bodied forth as her fancy had cut out his shape! It was a
finished form, in which the charms of Antinous strove for pre-eminence
with the strength of Hercules. Vastola screamed aloud, when she found
herself taken at her word by the fairies, who had read in her breast a
wish which she scarcely dared avow to herself. She blushed most
immoderately down to her neck, and looked about in confusion and
half-pleasing uneasiness. She would have given all the world to have
played the prude a little longer, if it had not been for the fear of
being guilty of the heinous sin of ingratitude. The best thing she could
do was, to accept the charming husband in silence, and not to be ashamed
of the bounty of the gods.

We will candidly confess, (provided our openness does not injure her
reputation) that the young lady seemed rather to go too far in her
gratitude. For three whole days, and we fear three nights too, every
thought, and every moment of her time, was entirely devoted to her
Corydon. She led him, with the eagerness of a child that had got a new
doll, from one delightful spot in their new dominions to the other.
Every where you saw the loving pair, arm in arm, walking through the
green meadows, or sitting in shaded bowers, or reposing on the soft
grass, counting the minutes only by their kisses, sufficient to each
other's happiness, and forgetting the whole around them.

Pervonte, now called Prince Pervonte, had continued, throughout all
these revolutions, as great a blockhead as at his mother's cottage.
There is reason to believe, however, that his manner of loving was not
the worse for this deficiency: it seemed impossible that he could, with
the most refined wit, have entertained his bride more to her
satisfaction than he had done hitherto. It is certain, that Vastola
never once observed his want of understanding, till a whole week of
their marriage had elapsed. At length, however, the arrows of Cupid were
shot away. An Hercules, obliged to rest, loses the greatest part of its
value; and an Adonis, who can shew nothing but an unmeaning face and a
set of fine teeth, is but an indifferent substitute. The princess now
perceived where the fault lay. 'I think,' said she to her husband, 'it
is high time for you to beg a present of the fairies which you are
greatly in want of.'--'And what can this present be?' said Pervonte. 'It
is sense,' replied Vastola; 'a little more brains would vastly well
become so beautiful a forehead.'--'A very useless wish,' exclaimed
Pervonte; 'yet why should I ask for more? had I not always enough to
find out my mouth, and----' 'Peace,' cried Vastola, and stopt his mouth
for fear of hearing more nonsense; 'believe me, understanding is a most
valuable commodity, and by no means burdensome; the more you have of it,
the more easily you will bear it.'--'Well, then, I will be advised: tell
me only what I must ask for.'--'Ask only for sense: this one word is
sufficient.'--'Ye fairies,' cried Pervonte, 'grant me sense; and let it
be good sense,' added he, 'for every thing that glitters is not gold.'
You see, the fairies had heard him at the first word: indeed, they had
bestowed on him a larger portion of understanding than was perhaps
agreeable to Vastola. 'Madam,' said Pervonte to her, 'let us now have
done with wishes. The bounty of the fairies to us has been very great;
to importune them for more presents, would be covetous and ungrateful.
We want nothing but content, a blessing which is entirely in our own
gift. Let us now endeavour to deserve what we possess, by the manner of
our enjoying it. Let us love each other, dear princess, and let us bless
every feeling being about us with a share of our own happiness: what
else can we wish for? or what else can the partiality of the fairies
bestow?'




THE VIZIER'S DAUGHTER.


The kingdom of Cachemire was formerly governed by a prince named
Aladdin. He was blessed with a daughter, who would have been
acknowledged the most perfect beauty in the East, if the vizier's
daughter had not disputed the prize with her. Nothing engrossed the
conversation of the East, but the extraordinary charms of these
princesses. Many sovereigns, upon the credit of report, longed for their
alliance, and were ready to demand them in marriage.

It was difficult to determine which of these beauties was most
accomplished. Yet, whether it was owing to partiality, or the manners of
the vizier's daughter, which were much bolder than those of her rival,
she had engrossed the public esteem in her favour, and was honoured with
the preference.

The king's daughter was so immoderately chagrined at the preference paid
Ghulnaz, for that was the name of the vizier's daughter, that she fell
into a profound melancholy, which threatened her life. Her father,
alarmed at her danger, applied to his physicians, who assured him, that
the princess's illness was owing to some secret uneasiness.

The king was very importunate with his daughter to unbosom herself to
him; and to prevail on her, assured her, with a solemn oath, that he
would grant her every thing she would ask, were it half of his kingdom.
The daughter of Aladdin, instead of disclosing the jealousy with which
she was tortured to another, would, if possible, have hid it from
herself. But melted with the tender caresses of her father, and the
concern which he testified on her account, she could not refuse him any
longer; but confessed to him, that Ghulnaz was the cause of her
disorder, which would admit of no relief, till her rival was removed at
some distance from her.

Aladdin endeavoured all he could to comfort his daughter, and assured
her, it should not be long before she was rid of the object of her
uneasiness.

In consequence of his promise, Aladdin sent for his vizier, and told
him, 'That it was with some reluctance, that he insisted upon his
selling his daughter; because he knew how much such a proposal must
afflict him.--But,' added he, 'my daughter's life depends on it. I need
not add any more, and I expect this sacrifice, as a mark of the
attachment you have always professed for me.'

The vizier was shocked at the proposal, and was for some time divided
between paternal love and duty to his prince. The latter, at length, got
the ascendency, and stifled the voice of nature. Some remains of
affection prevented a public sale. For which purpose, he inclosed her in
a coffer, and sending for the crier, said, 'You must sell this coffer
for forty thousand _aspers_, with this condition, that the purchaser
shall not be permitted to see what it contains, before he buys it.'

The crier endeavoured to execute the vizier's commission, in vain: the
condition he exacted drove away all the buyers. A young fellow, who was
a water-carrier, more venturesome than the rest, suspected that there
was something mysterious in the affair, and resolved to run the risk; he
borrowed the purchase-money of a merchant with whom he was acquainted,
and, after paying it to the crier, carried the coffer home.

His surprise could be equalled by nothing but the joy he felt, when,
opening the coffer in haste, he found in it a young lady of
inexpressible beauty. 'Charming Houri,' said he, 'for thou art certainly
one of those celestial nymphs, which are formed for the pleasure of the
elect in the next world, by what strange adventure hast thou been
inclosed in this coffer?'

The vizier's daughter, being unwilling to discover who she was, replied,
'Thou seest an unhappy creature, who is the sport of misfortune. Fate
has made me thy slave, and thou shalt find in me all the submission and
fidelity, that are due to thee.'

The amiable Ghulnaz was too charming to be beheld with insensibility.
Her possessor perceived this. For though she was his slave, and he could
dispose of her in whatever manner he pleased; yet, in his amours, he had
a delicacy far above those of his rank. His happiness, if it should
proceed from compulsion, would have appeared defective to him, and he
was therefore desirous of owing it entirely to love.

He formed a resolution, therefore, of giving Ghulnaz her liberty, and to
unite himself to her afterwards in bonds of matrimony. But before he put
this design in execution, he was willing to try, whether she was worthy
of the fate for which he designed her.

He conducted her to his mother's, at a little village about a day's
journey from Cachemire. 'Mother,' says he to her in private, 'I have
some intention of marrying this young slave, whom I commit to your care.
Have a watchful eye on her behaviour, and try whether her understanding
is equal to her beauty.'----He immediately took leave of his mother and
Ghulnaz, promising that he would soon see them again.

The beautiful slave soon gained the affection of her patron's
mother,--who was enchanted with her sweetness and complaisance; and in a
short time she was dear to her as her own daughter. The good woman,
though she had long endured the hardships of poverty, had supported them
with patience; but after she was united to Ghulnaz, she was concerned to
see her a partner in her miseries, and, for the first time, wished to be
rich--but with no other view, than that of putting her into a condition
more worthy of her virtues.

This amiable fair one, on her side, being affected with the distress of
one who had shown her so much kindness, was employed in finding out some
expedient to afford her comfort. She put into her hands a diamond, which
she had concealed, when her cruel parent confined her in the coffer, and
desired her to sell it for two thousand sequins. As the diamond was of
the first water, the old woman soon met with a purchaser, and returned
in raptures to Ghulnaz, whom she stiled her dearest daughter.

Ghulnaz hired a house, and furnished it very elegantly. She was now
beginning to comfort herself in her misfortunes, and to be resigned to
her lot, when new troubles rendered her a greater object of pity than
she had yet been. Though she lived a very retired life, and very seldom
went abroad, and even then not without her veil; yet, the fame of her
beauty was spread abroad through the place in which she lived. A young
man was enamoured with it, and had the boldness to declare his passion
to her. His rashness not meeting with that success which he expected,
his love was converted into rage, and he was resolved to be avenged of
one who treated his love with disdain. He set out for Cachemire, and
having found the water-carrier, 'I pity you,' said he, 'for maintaining,
with so much pains, a wretch, who repays you with ingratitude; while you
are sinking under the burthen of fatigue, she is swimming in a criminal
affluence, which she has procured by amorous intrigues.'

The passions of the water-carrier being thus inflamed, without enquiring
into the grounds of the information he had received, he set out with a
resolution of revenge. The elegance of the house in which his mother
lived, and the magnificence of the furniture, conspired to confirm him
in the opinion of his being abused. He entered.--Ghulnaz, who had no
suspicions, because she had nothing to reproach herself with, was
preparing to meet him; but he prevented her, by plunging the dagger he
had concealed under his gown into her bosom. Seeing that she did not
fall with the first blow, he was preparing to give her a second, when
Ghulnaz, in a fit of despair, jumped out of the window.

A Jew passing by, and seeing a young woman weltering in her blood,
raised her up, and carried her to his own house. In the mean while, the
water-carrier's mother, who was in an adjoining apartment, ran in on
hearing Ghulnaz's shrieks.--She found her son, with his eyes rolling
with fury, and the bloody dagger in his hand. 'What hast thou done, my
son,' said she--'and what has become of Ghulnaz?' 'This weapon,' replied
he, 'has just now avenged me of a perfidious wretch, who has abused
me,'--'How much art thou mistaken!' cried the old woman in all the agony
of woe; 'It will cost thee many a flood of tears!----Thou hast unjustly
killed one of the most amiable, and most virtuous of women in the
universe.'--She then informed him of the generous manner in which
Ghulnaz had delivered her from distress.

At the recital of this circumstance, the water-carrier gave himself up
to the most lively grief; he ran down into the street, hoping to find
his dear Ghulnaz there. He beheld the traces of her blood, with
streaming eyes, but she was not to be found. He ran through the whole
city, without being able to gain the least intelligence of the place
where she was gone to.

In this interval the Jew sent for a surgeon, who, after probing the
wound of the vizier's daughter, assured him it was not mortal. He was
not mistaken, and Ghulnaz in a short time recovered her health, together
with her charms. The Jew could not behold them without being sensible of
their efficacy, and declared his passion in terms, which shewed that he
would be obeyed. Ghulnaz shuddered at the danger to which she was
exposed. Being watched too narrowly to make her escape, she formed the
resolution of throwing herself into the sea, which washed the walls of
the house in which the Jew lived; esteeming the loss of life nothing,
providing she preserved her honour. To put her design into execution, it
was necessary that her lover should be absent: to procure which, she
pretended to comply with his wishes, on condition that he should first
bathe himself.

As soon as the Jew left the room, Ghulnaz opened the window, and flung
herself into the sea: three brothers, who were fishing, near the place,
saw her. As they were good swimmers, they caught her by the cloaths, and
putting her into their boat, soon landed on the banks of a meadow, on
the other side of the city.

The vizier's daughter, being recovered by their assistance, saw herself
again exposed to a more terrible danger than she had escaped.--Her
extraordinary beauty made an impression on the three brothers; they
quarrelled who should have her. They were just coming to blows, when
chance conducted a young cavalier to the spot, whom they pitched upon as
an arbitrator.----'Chance, alone,' said the young cavalier, after he had
been informed of the cause of their dispute, 'chance alone can decide
your pretensions. I will shoot three arrows to three different places,
and he who shall pick up one of the arrows first, shall be possessor of
this beauty.' The proposal seemed so reasonable to the fishermen, that
they acquiesced in it without the least reluctance. The cavalier drew
his bow, and shot three arrows three different ways. The three brothers
ran as swift as lightning, in hopes of gaining the prize. The cavalier,
seeing them at a distance, dismounted, lifting Ghulnaz into the saddle,
and setting spurs to his horse, went off at full stretch to the
neighbouring town.

It was the fate of Ghulnaz to captivate every one that beheld
her.----The cavalier had no sooner set her upon the ground, than he
declared his passion. Ghulnaz, seeing that she could not elude this
danger but by artifice, heard his declaration without the least traces
of displeasure.--She went so far, as to feign herself won by it, and
only conjured him to defer his happiness till night. 'A thought,' says
the vizier's daughter, 'has just now come into my head, which, though
somewhat ridiculous, may nevertheless contribute to mutual happiness. No
one knows me in this place; lend me a suit of your clothes.--You may
make me pass for a relation, who is returned from foreign parts. As no
one can suspect my sex, you will be under no apprehension from
rivals.'--When she had dressed herself in them, 'I am going to convince
you,' said she, 'that I am no disgrace to the sex which I have assumed,
and that few men can surpass me in horsemanship.' As she was uttering
this speech, she vaulted into the saddle with great agility, and made
the horse perform all his paces. While the cavalier was admiring her
address, she drew off from him without his perceiving it, and clapping
spurs to her horse, she set out at full gallop, and shot from the
cavalier's sight like a flash of lightning. The apprehension of being
pursued, made her travel the rest of that day, and all the night,
without choosing any particular way.

The first rays of the sun, which appeared above the horizon, discovered
a city to her. In the utmost uncertainty where she was, she turned
towards the city. And how great was her astonishment, when she saw the
inhabitants coming to meet her!--'Our king died this night,' said they
to her, 'and he has left no heirs to succeed him to the throne. Being
apprehensive of a civil war, he has ordered us, by his will, to raise
the first person whom we shall meet with, on opening the gates, to that
honour.' Ghulnaz received, with an air of majesty and affability, the
homage of her subjects, who were far from suspecting her sex. She passed
through the streets, amidst the acclamations of the people, as she went
to take possession of the palace, the usual residence of the sovereigns
belonging to that country.

When she had ascended the throne, she applied herself wholly to the
government of her kingdom. She made choice of viziers, who were no less
illustrious for their integrity than their abilities; and she was more
than ordinarily solicitous to have justice dispensed without partiality.
Her subjects admired the wisdom of her administration, and blessed the
destiny which had assigned them a sovereign, more desirous of promoting
their happiness than his own.

After the fair Ghulnaz had reigned some time, she caused a magnificent
fountain to be made at the gate of the city. When it was finished, she
sat for her picture; but without acquainting the painter with her reason
for so doing, she ordered him to draw her in the character of a queen.
The portrait was placed in the upper part of the fountain. The spies,
which were placed about it, had orders to bring every one to her, who
should fetch a sigh, or give the least signs of grief, on beholding the
picture.

All this while, the water-carrier had been inconsolable for the loss of
his dear slave; and searched many a city, in hopes of tracing her
out.--He came to the fountain; and scarcely had he contemplated the
features of the dear object, which was always present in his mind, than
he fetched a deep sigh. The soldiers seized him immediately, and carried
him before Ghulnaz, whom he was not able to discover under the disguise
in which she then appeared. She ordered him, in a menacing tone, to
acquaint her with the cause, that made him shed tears at the sight of
the picture which hung up at the fountain. He related his misfortunes to
her, with the agonies of fear, and Ghulnaz ordered him to be confined in
prison.

Some days afterwards, chance brought the brothers, who were fishermen,
to the same fountain. They discovered, in the picture which graced the
place, the resemblance of her whom they saved from drowning; their
flame, which was not quite extinct, revived at the sight, and they could
not forbear sighing. They were carried before Ghulnaz; who asked them
the same question she had asked the water-carrier, and committed them to
prison likewise. The cavalier, and the Jew, came likewise to the
fountain, and having shewn the same sensibility, met with the same lot.

When all the parties were thus secured together, the vizier's daughter
ordered them to be brought before her. 'If the person, who is the cause
of your sighs,' said she, with some emotion, 'should now appear before
your eyes, would you know her again?' She had scarcely pronounced these
words, when she tore her robe open, and shewed herself to them in the
dress of her sex. They all prostrated themselves at her feet, and begged
pardon of her for the excesses they had been hurried into, by a passion
too violent for restraint.

The vizier's daughter raised them up with an air of complacency, and
taking the water-carrier by the hand, she placed him upon the throne,
and ordered him to be cloathed in royal attire. Then, assembling the
great officers of the state, she related her history to them, and begged
them to accept of her master for their king. She married him a few days
after, and the nuptials were celebrated with a magnificence worthy of
their rank.

The Jew, the three fishermen, and the cavalier, were sent home loaded
with presents; which, though considerable, did not prevent them from
envying the lot of the water-carrier.




LITTLE HUNCH-BACK.


There was in former times at Casgar, upon the utmost skirts of Tartary,
a taylor that had a handsome wife, whom he loved, and was reciprocally
loved by her. One day as he sat at work, a little Hunch-back man came
and sat down at the shop-door, and began to sing, and at the same time
played upon a tabor; the taylor was pleased to hear him, and had a
strong inclination to take him into his house to make his wife merry.
'This little fellow,' said he to her, 'will divert us'; in fine he
invited him in, and he readily accepted of the invitation; the taylor
shut up his shop, and conducted him home; the taylor's wife covered the
table, they sat down to supper, and had a large dish of fish set before
them; but as they ate heartily, unfortunately the crooked man swallowed
a large bone, of which he died in a few minutes, notwithstanding all
that the taylor and his wife could do to prevent it; they were much
alarmed at the accident, especially since it happened at their house,
and there was ground to fear that, if the justiciary magistrates came to
hear of it, they would be punished as assassins. However, the husband
found an expedient to get rid of the corpse; he remembered there was a
Jewish doctor that lived just by, and he formed a project; in the
execution of which his wife and he took the corpse, the one by the feet
and the other by the head, and carried it to the physician's house; they
knocked at the door, from which ascended a steep pair of stairs to his
chamber; as soon as they had knocked, the servant-maid came down without
any light, and opening the door asked what they wanted. 'Go up again,'
said the taylor, 'and tell your master, we have brought him a man that's
very bad, and wants his advice.' 'Here,' says he, putting a piece of
money into her hand, 'give him that before hand, to convince him that we
do not wish him to lose his labour.' While the servant was gone up to
acquaint her master with the welcome news, the taylor and his wife
nimbly conveyed the hunch-backed corpse to the head of the stairs, and,
leaving it there, ran off.

In the meantime, the maid having told the doctor that a man and woman
staid for him at the door, desiring he would come down and look upon a
patient they had brought with them, and putting the money she had
received into his hand, the doctor was transported with joy; being paid
before hand he thought it was a good patient, and should not be
neglected, therefore, without staying for the light, he went to the
stair-head in such haste, that stumbling against the corpse he forced it
down to the stair-foot.

At last the maid came with the light, and he went down stairs with her;
but when he saw that the stumbling-block he had kicked down was a dead
man, he was so terrified that he invoked Moses, Aaron, Joshua, Esdras,
and all the other prophets. 'Unhappy man that I am,' said he, 'why did I
offer to come down without a light! I have dispatched the man that was
brought to me to be cured; doubtless I am the cause of his death, and
unless Esdras's ass comes to assist me, I am ruined: mercy on me, they
will be here out of hand, and drag me out of my house for a murderer.'

But, notwithstanding the perplexity and jeopardy he was in, he had the
precaution to shut his door; he then took the corpse into his wife's
chamber, upon which she swooned away. 'Alas,' she said, 'we are utterly
ruined, unless we adopt some expedient to turn the corpse out of our
house this night! Beyond all question, if we harbour it here till
morning, our lives must pay for it. By what means did you kill this
man?' 'That is not the question,' replied the Jew, 'our business now is,
to find out a remedy for such a shocking accident.'

The doctor and his wife consulted together how to get rid of his corpse
that night. The doctor could not think of any stratagem; but his wife,
more fertile in invention, said, 'A thought strikes me, let us carry the
corpse to the leads of our house, and put it down the chimney into the
house of the Mussulman our next neighbour.'

This Mussulman, or Turk, was one of the Sultan's purveyors, for
furnishing oil, butter, tallow, &c. and had a magazine in his house,
where the rats and mice made prodigious havock.

The Jewish doctor approving the proposed expedient, his wife and he took
the little Hunch-back up to the roof of the house; and putting ropes
under his arm-pits, let him down the chimney into the purveyor's chamber
so dexterously, that he stood upright against the wall, as if he had
been alive; when they found he stood firm, they pulled up the ropes, and
left him in that posture. They were scarce got down into their chamber,
when the purveyor went into his, being just come from a wedding-feast,
with a lanthorn in his hand; he was surprised, when, by the light of his
lanthorn, he descried a figure standing upright in his chimney, and
apprehending it was a robber, he took up a cane, and coming up to the
Hunch-back, 'Ah,' says he, 'I thought it was the rats and mice that ate
my butter and tallow, and it is you that come down the chimney and rob
me? I question if ever you come back again upon this errand.' This said,
he beat him severely with his cane; upon this the corpse fell down, and
the purveyor redoubled his blows; but, observing the body not to move,
and then perceiving it was a corpse, fear succeeded his anger. 'Wretched
man that I am,' said he, 'I have killed a man! alas, I have carried my
revenge too far! accursed be the oil that gave occasion to my commission
of such a criminal act.' In fine, he stood pale and thunderstruck; he
thought he saw the officers already come to drag him to condign
punishment, and could not think what resolution to take.

The Sultan of Casgar's purveyor had never observed the little man's
hunch when he was beating him, but as soon as he perceived it, he
uttered a thousand imprecations against him. 'Ah, you crooked
Hunch-back,' cried he, 'would you had robbed me of all my oil, and I had
not found you here; if it had been so, I had not been so perplexed as I
now am, for the sake of you and your hunch.' As soon as he had uttered
these words, he took the little crookback upon his shoulders, and
carried him out of doors, to the end of the street, where he set him
upright, resting against a shop, and returned home without looking
behind him.

A few minutes before break of day, a Christian merchant who was very
rich, and furnished the Sultan's palace with most articles, having sat
up all night debauching, came out of his house to bathe. Though drunk he
was sensible that the night was far spent, and that the people would
quickly be summoned to prayers, that begin at the break of day,
therefore he quickened his pace to get in time to the bath, lest a Turk
meeting him in the way to the mosque, should carry him to prison as a
drunkard; as he came to the end of the street, he stopped upon some
necessary occasion, and leaned against the shop where the Sultan's
purveyor had put Hunch-back's corpse; which being jostled, fell on the
merchant's back; who, thinking it was a robber that came to attack him,
knocked him down, and after redoubling his blows cried out thieves.

The outcry alarmed the watch, who came up immediately, and finding a
Christian beating a Turk, (for Hunch-back was of that religion.) 'What
reason, have you,' said he, 'to abuse a Mussulman in this manner?' 'He
would have robbed me,' replied the merchant, 'and jumped upon my back
with intent to take me by the throat.' 'If he did,' said the watch, 'you
have revenged yourself sufficiently, release him.' At the same time he
stretched out his hand to help little Hunch-back up; but observing he
was dead, 'Is it thus,' said he, 'that a Christian dares to assassinate
a Mussulman?' he seized the Christian, and carried him to the sheriff's,
where he was kept till the judge was ready to examine him; in the mean
time the Christian grew sober, and the more he reflected upon his
adventure, the less could he conceive how the blows with his fist could
kill the Turk.

The judge having heard the report of the watch, and viewed the corpse,
interrogated the Christian merchant, who could not deny the crime,
though he had not committed it; but the judge considering that
Hunch-back was one of the Sultan's buffoons, would not put the Christian
to death, till he knew his pleasure. To this end he went to the palace,
and acquainted the Sultan with what had happened; and received from the
Sultan this answer; 'I have no mercy to shew to a Christian that kills a
Mussulman; go, do your office.' Upon this the judge ordered a gibbet to
be erected, and sent criers over the city, to proclaim that they were
about to hang a Christian for killing a Mussulman.

The merchant was brought out of goal to the foot of the gallows; and the
hangman having put the rope about his neck, was going to turn him off,
when the Sultan's purveyor, breaking through the crowd, made up to the
gibbet, calling to the hangman to stop, for that the Christian had not
committed the murder, but himself had done it; upon this the sheriff,
who attended the execution, interrogated the purveyor; who told him
every circumstance of his killing the little Hunch-back, and conveying
his corpse to the place where the Christian merchant found him. 'You
were about,' added he, 'to inflict death on an innocent person; for how
can he be guilty of the death of a man who was dead before he came to
him? My crime is sufficient in having killed a Turk, without loading my
conscience with the additional weight of a Christian that is not
guilty.'

The Sultan of Casgar's purveyor having publicly charged himself with the
death of the little hunch-backed man, the sheriff could not avoid doing
justice to the merchant. 'Let the Christian go,' said he, 'and hang this
man in his stead, since it appears by his own confession that he is
guilty.' The hangman then released the merchant, and put the rope round
the purveyor's neck; but just as he was going to turn him off, he heard
the voice of the Jewish doctor, intreating him to suspend the execution,
and make room for him to throw himself at the foot of the judge.

When he appeared before the judge, 'My lord,' said he, 'this Mussulman
you are about to hang is not guilty; all the guilt lies at my door. Last
night a man and a woman, unknown to me, came to my door with a sick man,
and knocking, my maid opened it without a light, and received from them
a piece of money, with a commission to desire me in their name, to look
at a sick person; while she was delivering her message, they conveyed
the person to the stair-head, and then disappeared; I went down, without
staying for my servant to light a candle, and in the dark, happening to
stumble upon the sick person, threw him down stairs; in fine, I saw he
was dead, and that it was the crooked Mussulman. My wife and I took the
corpse, and after conveying it up to the leads of our house, shoved it
to the roof of the purveyor's house, and let it down the chimney into
the chamber; the purveyor taking the little man for a thief, after
beating him concluded he had killed him; but that it was not so, you
will be convinced by my deposition, that I am the only perpetrator of
the murder, and though it was committed undesignedly, I have resolved to
expiate my crime by exculpating the Sultan's purveyor, whose innocence I
have now revealed, therefore dismiss him, and put me in his place, for I
alone am the cause of the death of this little man.'

The chief justice being persuaded that the Jewish doctor was the
murderer, gave orders to the executioner to seize him and release the
purveyor. Accordingly the doctor was just upon the point of execution,
when the taylor appeared, desiring that he might make confession to the
lord justice. Room being made, 'My lord,' said he to the judge, 'you
have narrowly escaped taking away the lives of three innocent persons;
but if you will have patience to hear me, I will discover to you the
murderer of the crook-backed man; if his death is to be expiated by that
of another, it must be mine. Yesterday, towards the evening, as I was
disposed to be merry, the little Hunch-back came to my door half drunk,
and I invited him to pass the evening; he accordingly accepted of the
invitation. We sat down to supper, and I gave him a plate of fish; a
bone stuck in his throat, and though my wife and I did our utmost to
relieve him, he died in a few minutes; his death afflicted us extremely,
and for fear of being charged with it, we carried the corpse to the
Jewish doctor's house, and knocked at the door; the maid opened it, and
I desired her to go up and ask her master to give his advice to a person
that was sick; and to encourage him, I charged her to give him a fee
which I had put into her hand; in the interim I carried Hunch-back up
stairs, and laid him upon the uppermost step, and then my wife and I
departed. The doctor, in coming down, threw the corpse down stairs, and
therefore conceived himself to be the cause of his death. Now this being
the case,' continued he, 'release the doctor, and let me die in his
stead.'

The chief justice, and all the spectators, could not sufficiently admire
the strange events that ensued upon the death of the little crooked man.
'Let the Jewish doctor go,' said the judge, 'and hang up the taylor,
since he confesses the crime.' The executioner having dismissed the
doctor, prepared for the execution of the taylor.

While they were making ready to hang the taylor, the Sultan of Casgar
enquired for his crooked jester. 'The Hunch-back, Sir,' said one of his
officers, 'whom you inquire after, got drunk last night, and contrary to
his custom slipped out of the palace, and this morning was found dead; a
man was brought before the chief justice, and charged with his murder;
but when he was going to be hanged, up came a man, and after him
another, who took the charge upon themselves and exculpated each other.
The examination has continued a long time, and the judge is now
examining a fourth man, that gives himself out for the real perpetrator
of the murder.'

Upon this intelligence, the Sultan of Casgar sent a hussar to the place
of execution, to bring the arraigned persons before him immediately; and
withal to bring the corpse of Hunch-back, that he might see him once
more. Accordingly the hussar went, and arriving at the place of
punishment, just when the executioner was going to tye up the taylor,
called upon him to suspend the execution. Now, the hangman knowing the
hussar, untied the taylor; and then the hussar acquainted the judge with
the Sultan's pleasure. The judge obeyed, went to the palace, accompanied
by the taylor, the Jewish doctor, and the Christian merchant, and made
four of his men carry the Hunch-back's corpse with him.

When they appeared before the Sultan, the judge threw himself at the
prince's feet, and gave him a faithful relation of what he knew of the
story of the hunch-backed man. The Sultan found the story so uncommon,
that he ordered his secretary to commit it to writing; then, addressing
himself to the audience; 'Did you ever hear,' said he, 'such a
surprising story as this respecting my little crooked buffoon?' Then the
taylor, after saluting him, spoke in the following manner: 'Most
puissant monarch, I know a story, yet more astonishing than that you
have now heard; if your majesty will give me leave, I will tell it you.'
'Well,' said the Sultan, 'I give you leave,' and the taylor went on as
follows:

'A citizen of Damascus did me the honour two days ago, to invite me to
an entertainment, which he was to give to his friends as yesterday;
accordingly I went pretty early, and found there twenty persons.

'The master of the house was gone out upon some business, but in a short
time he came home, and brought with him a young man, a stranger, very
well dressed, and comely, but lame; when he came in, we all rose, and
out of respect to the master of the house, invited the young man to sit
down with us upon the sofa; he was going to sit down, but on a sudden,
spying a barber in our company, he retreated towards the door: the
master of the house stopped him; 'Where are you going?' said he, 'I
bring you with me to do me the honour of being my guest, and you are no
sooner in my house, than you run away.' 'Sir,' said the young man, 'do
not stop me, I cannot without horror look upon that abominable barber;
though he is born in a country where all the natives are whites, he
resembles an Ethiopian; and his soul is yet blacker, and more horrible
than his face.'

'We were all surprised to hear the young man speak thus, and began to
have a bad opinion of the barber, without knowing what ground he had for
what he said; nay, we protested we would not suffer any one to remain in
our company that bore so horrid a character. The master of the house
intreated the stranger to tell us what reason he had for hating the
barber. 'This cursed barber,' said the young man, 'is the cause of my
being lame, and falling under most dire misfortune that can be imagined;
for this reason I have made an oath to shun all places where he is, and
even not to stay in the city where he dwells. It was for this reason
that I left Bagdad, where he then was, and travelled so far as to settle
in this city, in the heart of Great Tartary, a place where I flattered
myself I should never see him. And now, contrary to my expectation, I
find him here; this obliges me, against my will, to deprive myself of
the honour of your company; this very day I leave your town, and will,
if I can, conceal myself from him.' This said, he would have left us;
but the master entreated him to stay, and to tell us the cause of his
aversion for the barber, who all this while looked down and said not a
word. We joined with the master of the house in requesting him to stay,
which he at last consented to do; and, after turning his back on the
barber, gave us the following account:

'My father's quality might have entitled him to the highest post in the
city of Bagdad, but he preferred a retired life to all the honours he
might deserve. I was his only child, and when he died I was of age to
dispose of the plentiful fortune he had left me; which I did not
squander, but applied to such uses that I was generally respected for my
conduct.

'I had not been yet disturbed with passion, and was so far from being
sensible of love, that I acknowledge, perhaps to my shame, that I
cautiously avoided the conversation of women. One day I saw a great
company of ladies before me, and that I might not meet them, I turned
down a narrow lane, and sat down upon a bench; I sat over against a
window, where there stood a pot with flowers, and I had my eyes fixed
upon this, when suddenly the window opened, and a young lady appeared
whose beauty was enchanting; immediately she cast her eyes upon me, and
in watering the flower-pot, with a hand whiter than alabaster, looked
upon me with a smile that inspired me with as much love for her as I had
formerly aversion for all women. After having watered her flowers, and
darted upon me a glance that pierced my heart, she shut the window, and
left me in inconceivable anxiety.

'I dwelt upon these thoughts, till alarmed with a noise in the street; I
turned my head, and saw it was the upper cady of the city, mounted on a
mule, and attended by five or six servants; he alighted at the door of
the house where the young lady had opened the window, and went in, from
whence I concluded that he was the young lady's father.

'I went home in a different humour from that I brought with me, agitated
by the most violent passion I had ever felt; in fine, I went to bed with
a violent fever upon me. My relations began to despair of my life; when
an old lady of my acquaintance came to see me; who, having more sagacity
than the doctors, soon informed me she knew my complaint. On this I
declared to her my unhappy state of mind, and unravelled all the
circumstances of my adventure. The old woman fortunately knew the lady,
and promised to interest her in my favour; and departed immediately on
her embassy. The next morning she returned with good tidings; for she
had made the lady promise to grant me an interview on the Friday
following.

'This information was as good to me as manna from Heaven, for it almost
instantly made me well. The day soon came, and early in the morning I
dispatched a slave to call a barber who would do his business
expeditiously. The slave brought me the wretch you see here, who, after
saluting me, said, 'Sir, you look as if you were not well. Let me know
what service I am to render you.' I informed him, I only wanted to be
shaved, and desired him to do it quickly. He spent much time in opening
his case and preparing his razors. Instead of putting water in his
bason, he took a very handsome astrolabe out of his budget, and went
into the middle of the yard to take the height of the sun: when he
returned, 'Sir,' said he, with a formality that put me out of all
patience, 'Mars and Mercury say that this day you run a great risk, not
indeed of losing your life, but of an inconvenience which will attend
you while you live. You only sent for a barber; but in my person you
have the best barber in Bagdad, an experienced physician, a very
profound chemist, an infallible astrologer, a finished grammarian, a
complete orator, a subtle logician, a mathematician perfectly well
versed in geometry, arithmetic, astronomy, and all the divisions of
algebra; and a historian, fully master of all the kingdoms of the
universe. Besides, I know all parts of philosophy. I have all the
traditions upon my finger ends, I am a poet, an architect; nay, what is
it I am not?'

'Thus he went on full an hour, till I grew into such a violent passion
as almost choked me; but the more haste I was in, the less he made; he
laid down his razor, and took up his astrolabe; then laid down his
astrolabe, and took up his razor. He then began to shave me, prattling
all the time in the most vehement manner, concluding by saying, it was
his firm intention to stay with me the whole of the day. This was too
much for me to bear, and I arose in a violent passion and ran out of the
house. The infernal barber followed me, shouting after me with all his
might; and collected together a mob of at least ten thousand people. I
reached the cady's house as I thought unobserved; and found an old woman
waiting for me, who conducted me without delay to my mistress. The
barber, however, saw me enter the house; and accompanied with the mob
soon reached it. He then harangued the populace; asserting that I was
sure of being murdered in that house, and desiring their assistance to
rescue me. The barber and his associates immediately broke open the
door; and in a body rushed in. The noise was tremendous, and in the
confusion I concealed myself in a large trunk. Here the barber soon
discovered me, and placing the chest on his head left the house. When I
found myself in the street, I opened the lid, and leaped out; but
sprained my ankle so much, that I have been lame ever since. This affair
made so great a noise, that shame compelled me to leave the city for
ever. So, gentlemen, you may perceive that I have reason to hate and
shun this detestable barber as long as I live.'

'The young man then rose, and ran out of the house. We sat down to
table, and were merry till afternoon prayers. When all the company
parted, I went to my shop, till it was time for me to return home.

'It was during this interval that Hunch-back came half drunk, and stood
before my shop, where he sung and played the tabor. I thought, that by
taking him home with me, I should divert my wife, who gave us a dish of
fish, and I presented Hunch-back with some, which he ate without taking
notice of a bone. He fell down dead before us, and after having in vain
essayed to help him, the trouble occasioned us by such an unlucky
accident, induced us to carry the corpse out, and lodge it with the
Jewish doctor. The Jewish doctor put it into the chamber of the
purveyor, and the purveyor carried it forth into the street, where it
was believed the merchant had killed him. This, Sire,' added the taylor,
'is what I had to say to satisfy your majesty, who must pronounce
whether we are worthy of mercy or wrath, life or death.'

The Sultan of Casgar gave the taylor and his comrades their lives. 'I
cannot but acknowledge,' says he, 'that I am more amused with the
history of the young cripple than with the story of my jester; but
before I send you away, and before we bury Hunch-back, I would see the
barber, on whose account I have pardoned you; since he is in my capital,
it is easy to satisfy my curiosity.' At the same time he sent a serjeant
with the taylor to find him.

They went immediately and brought the barber, whom they presented to the
Sultan: the barber was an old man of ninety years, his eye-brows and
beard were as white as snow, his ears hanging down, and he had a very
long nose. The Sultan could not forbear laughing when he saw him.

The Sultan commanded them to tell him the story of the Hunch-back;
which, when he heard, he shook his head, intimating that there was
something under this which he did not understand. Truly, cried he, this
is a surprising story; but I am willing to examine Hunch-back a little
closely. He drew near him, sat on the ground, took his head between his
knees, and after he had looked upon him steadfastly, he fell into so
great a fit of laughter, and had so little command of himself, that he
fell backwards, without considering that he was before the Sultan of
Casgar. As soon as he came to himself, he said, 'If ever any history
deserved to be written in letters of gold, it is this of Hunch-back.'

'Sire,' said the barber to the Sultan, 'I swear that Hunch-back is not
dead: he is yet alive, and I shall be willing to pass for a madman, if I
do not let you see it this minute.' Having said these words, he took out
of a box wherein he had several medicines, a little vial with balsam,
with which he rubbed Hunch-back's neck a long time; then he took out of
his case a neat iron instrument, which he put between his teeth; and
after he had opened his mouth, he thrust down his throat a pair of small
pincers, with which he took out a large fish bone, which he shewed to
all the people. Immediately Hunch-back sneezed, stretched out his arms
and feet, and gave several other signs of life.

The Sultan of Casgar, and those with him who were witnesses of this
action, were less surprised to see Hunch-back revive, than at the merit
and capacity of the barber; and, notwithstanding all his faults, began
to look upon him as a person of great skill. The Sultan ordered the
story of Hunch-back to be entered on the records with that of the
barber, that the memory of it might be preserved. Nor did he stop here;
but that the taylor, Jewish doctor, purveyor, and Christian merchant,
might remember the adventure, which the accident of Hunch-back had
occasioned to them, with pleasure, he did not send them away till he had
given each of them a very rich robe, with which he caused them to be
clothed in his presence. As for the barber, he honoured him with a
liberal pension, and kept him near his person.




THE HORNED COCK.


A man that bought poultry round the country to supply the markets of the
metropolis, having got intelligence of a Virtuoso who built his
pretensions to scientific fame on making collections of the anomalous
frolics of nature, without ever attempting to investigate the wisdom and
power displayed in the regular process of her works, resolved to turn it
to his own advantage.

As soon as he found that he could bring his scheme to a probability of
success, he waited on the Virtuoso, and giving notice that he had
something curious to communicate, was immediately admitted to an
audience in his museum, where he informed him, that he had received
intelligence from a particular friend of his, a Scotch pedlar, that, in
the farthest part of the Highlands, there was a most remarkable cock,
with two surprising horns growing out of the back of his head, in the
possession of an old woman, who was famous for the second sight; that,
upon his admiring the creature, the woman had offered to sell it to him,
for a pound of tobacco and a bottle of brandy; but he was afraid to
meddle with it, as all the country said it was her familiar, though he
had seen it himself scrape the dunghill and tread the hens, like any
other cock: and that, upon hearing the news, he was come to inform his
lordship of it, and offer his service to go all the way himself for the
bird, and bring him up, if he would promise to re-imburse him the
expenses of his journey; to shew that he had no design to impose upon
him, he should go at his own risk, and desire nothing, if he did not
succeed.

The first mention of such a curiosity threw the Virtuoso into the
highest rapture; he embraced the fellow, conjured him not to lose a
minute, nor drop the least syllable of the affair to any person living,
till he brought him the cock; and, to secure his fidelity, he pulled out
his purse, gave him ten guineas, with a promise of fifty more, the
moment he should receive him. The man promised every thing he required,
and went away, hugging himself in the success of his scheme. Accordingly
he left that part of the country directly, and, taking care to keep
beyond the reach of his lordship's enquiry, followed his business as
usual, for the time that he might be thought to have spent in his
expedition. In the mean while, the Virtuoso could not conceal the pride
of his heart, on the prospect of so great an acquisition; but, in all
the letters to his philosophical correspondents, gave mysterious hints
of something immensely fine, rare, and unnatural, and assumed the
importance due to the possession of such a treasure.

At length, the moment arrived that was to complete his happiness. About
ten o'clock at night the man alighted at his lordship's gate, and
sending in his name, was immediately shewn into the museum, where his
lordship flew to meet him, in the utmost impatience. As soon as the man
entered, all over spattered with dirt, and putting on every appearance
of fatigue, 'Well, my good friend,' said the Virtuoso, with the greatest
eagerness, 'what success? Where is the dear creature? Shall I be so
happy as to see him in my possession?'--'My lord,' answered the man, 'I
must beg your pardon for a moment, I am not able to speak: I am quite
worn out, and then dropping upon a chair, as if he was just ready to
faint, his lordship immediately rung for some cordial for him, which he
took from the servant himself at the door, (for he would not admit any
one living,) and gave it him with his own hand. When he was a little
recovered, 'I beg your lordship's pardon,' continued he, 'but I could
not hold out a moment longer; what with travelling all day, and watching
all night, I am quite worn out.'--'But, where is the bird?'--'And then
such offers as I have refused! well, to be sure, I trusted to your
lordship's generosity, for I shall never have such another opportunity
of making my fortune; for behold the thing had taken wind, and there was
my Lord Duke's and Sir Thomas's men, and twenty more, riding for life,
to try who should get him, but I had got the start of them, and was
coming back, with the pretty creature in my bosom; but I let them all go
on their fool's errand, and did not say any thing to them; for how did I
know, but they might kill me to get him away from me?'--Having finished
his speech, which the other did not chuse to interrupt, though he
listened to it with the utmost impatience, the fellow opened his
horseman's coat, and, with the greatest caution, produced the wonderful
creature; the head and neck of which had been carefully thrust into a
box made on purpose, for fear the coat should rub off the horns.

His lordship's rapture at the sight is not to be described. He instantly
pulled out his purse, and paying down the promised price, took
possession of him, and bid the man go and refresh himself for that night
with the best in the house, and in the morning he would consider how he
might make him a return more equal to his service, by procuring him some
handsome place at court. But the fellow had other designs in his head,
than ever to see his face more. However, he kept that to himself, and,
retiring with many professions of gratitude, left the house directly,
and took leave of that country for ever.

In the meantime, his lordship had notice that supper was served up; but
though he had company of the first rank in his house, he was so wrapped
up in the contemplation of his new acquisition, that he sent word he was
taken suddenly ill, and could not possibly attend them: he then
dispatched several servants express to his learned friends, to desire
their attendance next day, to see the most astonishing and beautiful
composition nature had ever made in the animal world, and devoted the
rest of the night to drawing up a proper description of this surprising
horned cock, with a physical enquiry into the substance of his horns,
and a philosophical attempt to account for such an extraordinary
production. When this work of uncommon learning was finished, he
indulged himself with taking another view of his darling bird, and then
put him into a beautiful cage, from which he dislodged two Chinese
pheasants, and placed him in his museum next to his favourite horned
owl.

It was six in the morning before he retired to rest, when his head was
so full of his new acquisition, that he lay dreaming of cows with wings,
and cocks with horns, and such like wonderful works of nature, till the
arrival of his learned friends at noon. As soon as their coming was
announced, he arose directly, and without waiting to visit his cock, to
whom he had given a sufficient quantity of provisions before he left
him, went to meet them. After several impatient enquiries into the cause
of so sudden and peremptory a summons, the Virtuoso, in all the
mysterious importance, which so inestimable an acquisition gave him,
produced his own learned labours of that morning, and, when they had
sufficiently studied and examined them, introduced them to a sight of
the unparalleled subject: 'There, gentlemen,' said he, in conscious
exultation, 'there, my friends, behold the most uncommon, unnatural, and
inestimable curiosity, that ever enriched the collection of a
philosopher. There, behold an indisputable proof of their error, who
assert that nature has placed an immoveable boundary between the
quadruped and winged creation. There, behold a sufficient encouragement,
to urge your indefatigable search for monsters, and to mix the whole
animal creation in coition, for the production of mermaids, griffins,
centaurs, harpies, and horned cocks, and that beautiful confusion, which
yields such inexpressible delight to an inquisitive philosophic mind.'--

While he was making this harangue, the company approached the gilded
cage, that contained this inestimable prodigy; and, stooping down to
contemplate him, were surprized to find one of the horns had fallen off,
and the other moved considerably from the situation in which it had been
described to them: for doleful to relate! the cock, which was of the
right game-breed, had unfortunately taken offence at the visage of the
owl his neighbour, and, in his struggles to come at him through the bars
of the cage, had rubbed off one, and displaced the other of his horns.
When this deplorable misfortune was mentioned to the owner, it is
impossible to describe his astonishment and confusion. He stooped
hastily to be satisfied of the truth of it; and beholding the
irreparable ruin of his pride, gave one dismal groan, and fell at his
length on the floor, in a swoon.

While his servants, who were summoned upon the occasion, were fetching
him to himself, one of the philosophers opened the cage, and, taking out
the bird, they all entered into a discussion of so strange a phenomenon.
After many learned and ingenious solutions, one of them declared, that
it had always been his opinion, in which the present case abundantly
confirmed him, that all cornuted animals cast their horns every year,
like the stag, and that the present case was no more than that; of which
he was perfectly convinced, as he could plainly feel, with his finger,
the growing horn, which had thus thrust off the old one; so that, my
lord, (said he, addressing himself to the owner, who by this time was
recovered, and attending to their remarks,) 'instead of being vexed at
such an event, you have reason to rejoice, as it explains a very
difficult point, and you will now have an opportunity of tracing the
growth of this beautiful prodigy.'

This sage solution administered some consolation to the Virtuoso, who
immediately took the bird in his own hands, and feeling the lump of wax,
which had fastened on the fictitious horn, was convinced of the truth of
his friend's accurate observation; which he himself farther confirmed,
by taking notice, that as no blood followed the avulsion, it was evident
that the horn was of itself ready to fall off, without the assistance of
the cock's struggling, (for they had caught him at that work,) and the
dislocation of the other horn shewed, that it was not in the same state
of ripeness, and therefore it had resisted that force. Consciousness of
the sagacity of this remark in some degree restored his spirits, and he
was going to proceed, when one of the company, who had taken up and
examined the fallen horn, and had not given any opinion on the matter,
interrupting him drily, said, that the hypothesis was certainly very
ingenious, but he believed the affair might be solved a readier way;
for, upon examination of the supposed horn, he found it was only a
cock's spur, which had been fastened upon the creature's head with wax,
as appeared evidently by the remains of the wax upon the end of the spur
in his hand; and, if they would let him pull off the other, he would
undertake that the imposture would be too plain to admit of any doubt.

The mention of this threw them all into confusion, as they had all given
their opinions positively, of the honour of which it deprived them, and
cut short many more, which they were ready to offer: they therefore
stood looking at each other, till he stretched out his hand to pull off
the other born, when they all interposed, particularly the owner, and
insisted that they must be better satisfied of what he had advanced,
before they could admit so rash an experiment. But the bird himself cut
short the dispute; for, some of the company happening to have snuff in
their fingers, it got into the cock's eyes, and made him shake his head
with such violence, that off flew the horn in his owner's face. The
person who had made the discovery, immediately took it up, and shewed
such plain proof of the trick, that it could no longer be denied.

It is impossible to describe the shame and vexation, in every
philosophic face present, at this lamentable event. The abused
purchaser, in particular, was almost mad: however, after mature
deliberation, it was agreed upon, for the credit of philosophy, to bear
the ridicule of the unlearned, by seeking satisfaction from the cheat.
As for the cock, he was immediately sacrificed to culapius, to avert
the consequences which such a disappointment might have upon the health
and understanding of the company, and to remove such an evidence of
their disgrace. But all their caution was in vain; the person who had
first detected the deceit, could not deny his vanity the pleasure of
making his sagacity known; and the fellow, finding his trick passed over
thus with impunity, could not avoid boasting of it; and to this day
diverts his customers with the history of the horned cock.




THE HAUNTED CELLAR.


An old baroness in Germany, who had lost her lord and all her children,
somewhat more than a century ago, resided in a solitary mansion, with
only two domestics, a male and a female: for, though she possessed an
ample fortune, she disdained to keep a numerous retinue of idle and
dissipated domestics, for the sake of living in a luxurious state; but
contented herself, in general, with one dish of substantial food at a
meal. Her chief indulgence was a cup of generous wine, for the
manufacture of which she had been long celebrated; but even this she
never used to any sort of excess. What she saved by frugality she
expended in charitable donations; and want was a stranger in her
neighbourhood.

The baroness having lately changed her man-servant, a youth about
twenty, and extremely giddy and inattentive to the duties of his
situation, for a man of fifty, which was nearly the age of her
woman-servant, who was what the world still calls a rigid old maid, she
was suddenly alarmed by the report of several strange noises, which were
said to be now nightly heard in the cellar.

As she was by no means free from the superstition of the age, though a
woman in other respects of great discernment, she felt, at first,
uncomfortable apprehensions; particularly, as her servants both agreed,
that what they heard could not proceed from any thing short of some
supernatural being.

The good old lady, however, determined to have the evidence of her own
ears; and for this purpose, sat up with them till the awful hour of
midnight.

No sooner had the clock sounded twelve, than the noise commenced; which
certainly was of a nature to produce terror in almost any bosom. A
general rummage of every thing below was succeeded by the deepest
groans; and the old lady actually sunk under the influence of terror,
fainting away on the top of the stairs, where she had ventured to
listen.

In this state she was conveyed to her chamber; and, on coming to her
senses, after a little reflection, desired her female servant to
continue in the room for the remainder of the night, while her man sat
up in the adjoining apartment.

Having made this arrangement, she soon closed her eyes, and appeared in
a profound sleep. The perturbation of her mind, however, had in truth
driven sleep from her eyes, which were now shut with much the same
design as those of the sage Grimalkin, when she meditates a sudden
interruption of the secret festivities in the subterranean haunts of the
four-footed nocturnal depredators of the kitchen. In short, from the
ill-counterfeited dread of her man and maid-servant, which had appeared
more in their words than in their physiognomies, she felt a strong
persuasion that there was some fraud in the business.

Having once entertained this idea, every circumstance which suggested
itself, still stronger confirmed her suspicions; till, at length, what
she at first only suspected, began now to impress her mind with all the
conviction of certainty.

She reflected, that her squeamish old maid had always expressed a great
dislike to the youth lately discharged, but did not seem remarkably
pleased with his departure; that since her new man came, the favourite
casks in the cellar; which before were sufficiently soon exhausted, had
still faster grown sonorous; that more provisions than usual had also
been devoured; and that, whatever ghosts there might be existing below,
where no such beings had ever before been heard of, it was not likely
that their insubstantial forms were supported by the gross foods of
mortals, or even the exquisite spirituous contents of her casks.

From all these circumstances, she felt abundantly satisfied, that her
female servant knew well enough of the existence of flesh and blood in
the cellar.

While the baroness was occupied in these, and similar reflections, her
old maid, who entertained not the smallest apprehension that her
mistress could awake from such a state of deep somnolency, as that in
which she seemed evidently locked for some hours at least, began to make
preparation for quitting the room. She made a slight noise, as if by
accident; carried a candle near the face of her mistress; and asked,
with tolerable audibility, if she was awake, or would she be helped to
any thing? Then, adjusting her head-dress at the toilet, with more
attention than would have been necessary for an assignation with a
ghost, she again repeated her questions, in a lower note; passed the
candle at a little greater distance from her mistress's face; and,
finding all still and silent, slowly tiptoed out of the chamber.

The baroness now heard her join her fellow-servant in the next room;
and, sliding out of bed, perceived them, through the key-hole,
proceeding down stairs, with great glee, together.

She followed, in the dark, at a small distance; and saw them descending
into the cellar, without any dread of ghosts or goblins. On the
contrary, she heard a laugh of triumph, which seemed but little
suppressed, and in which her ear quickly recognised a complete trio.

Being thus perfectly satisfied of the fact, which was as the old lady
had suspected, she returned to her room; and, while dressing herself,
determined how she would act.

She was a woman not only of great good sense, but of great good-nature;
and, not seeing objects in the worst light, had, in her heart, already
forgiven them the terror which they occasioned her, though she was
resolved to punish them, for their audacity, a little in their own way.

With benevolence in her heart, and an arch smile of cheerful benignity
on her countenance, she softly descended the cellar stairs, and
perceived the furtive worshippers of love as well as wine, at their
midnight orgies, near her favourite casks, in an intern vault. The
mellow light of a large lanthorn, gave them completely to her view; and
she found, as she had suspected, that the recently discarded young man
was not now quite so disagreeable to her squeamish old maid, as he
formerly was said to be!

After surveying this interesting scene for a few minutes, the baroness,
retreating a step or two back, gave a great stamp with her foot. She now
heard a general scream, and instantly advanced; but, though her two
servants remained apparently petrified with apprehension and horror, the
paramour of the old maid had instantaneously vanished.

The good old baroness suffered them to imagine that she knew nothing of
any third person; but she sarcastically complimented their courage on
thus venturing themselves in a haunted cellar; and expressed a wish, now
they were there all together, that each hole and corner of the vault
might be searched for the ghost.

At the mention of this design, a groan was suddenly heard, proceeding
from a closet in a remote part of the cellar. The baroness, assuming
great alarm, desired her man to look into that closet; which, with some
reluctance, he at length did; but, though the groaning continued, he
persisted that there was nothing to be seen. She then desired her woman
also to look; and She too, affecting much terror, as the groaning was
still audible, opened the door a little way, peeped in; and, returning,
assured her mistress, as she well might, that no ghost was there!

The old lady now desired her man to take the hammer, and a few stout
nails, from a basket in the cellar, and instantly to close up the door;
being, as she observed, quite positive that the ghost must now be there,
where she was resolved to keep him. Having made her man do this, and
also completely block up the door-way with full casks and lumber, she
drove before her, out of the subterranean paradise, the guilty pair of
transgressors, and locked them up in their respective apartments.

In the morning she let them out, but would not permit any approach to
the cellar; observing, that the parochial priest should first be sent
for, that he might exorcise the imprisoned ghost, and lay him to rest
till doomsday in the Red Sea.

The baroness accordingly dispatched her man in pursuit of the parson,
enjoying the consternation into which she had thus thrown her plotting
domestics, who had little conception of the coming catastrophe. The old
maid wept with pretended contrition; but her tears, as her mistress well
knew, flowed from a different cause.

When the priest arrived, the baroness took him aside, related to him the
whole transaction, and made him acquainted with the rest of her design.

The baroness and priest now proceeded to the cellar, accompanied by the
two trembling servants, each bearing two candles in their hands, which
they were scarcely capable of holding.

On their arrival near the door of the closet, the baroness addressed the
holy man, assuring him that there was certainly an unruly spirit in the
house; and that she was very desirous that it should be fairly laid to
rest by his pious interposition.

A basin of holy water was brought; the sacred book was opened; and the
mystical aspersions were about to commence before the closet door, from
whence the barrels and lumber were removed, previous to forcing it open;
when the old maid, overpowered by her apprehensions, and unable longer
to support the dread of complete detection, swooned away, and fell at
her mistress's feet!

The attention of the priest was thus too powerfully arrested, for him to
think more of the ghost; whose portion of holy water was now plenteously
sprinkled on the old maid's face, with at least equally good effect; for
she almost immediately revived, and entered into a complete confession
of the clandestine conspiracy; acknowledging, as her mistress had
suspected, that she entertained an affectionate regard for the young
man; that she had secretly supported him, for some time in the cellar;
and that the story of the ghost was a contrivance, not so much to alarm
the baroness, as to deter her from ever visiting that part of the house.

The state of the lover, during these transactions, who was now to be let
out from his place of confinement, is not so easy to be described. When
the door was burst open, he fell on his knees before the baroness,
implored her forgiveness, and assured her that he had a sincere regard
for her servant, whom he wished to marry, notwithstanding the disparity
of her years, as soon as he could by any means contrive to support her.
She also threw herself on her knees to her mistress, and with tears,
joined his petition for pardon.

The baroness, benignantly bidding them rise, took a hand of each, and,
joining them together, told the priest to proceed with the instructions
which she had before given him; when, to their unspeakable astonishment,
they found, that a ring of the good and generous baroness's had been put
into the hands of the priest, for the purpose of uniting them on the
spot, in the bands of holy matrimony; an office which he immediately
performed, to the satisfaction of all parties; and the worthy baroness,
convinced that they would never more venture to deceive her, took the
young man also again into her service; where he and his wife continued
to live till the death of their mistress, who left them a considerable
legacy, as the reward of their long-tried future fidelity.




FINIS.

=Transcriber's Notes:=
Page 14, "blue hair run" changed to "blue hare run"
Page 17, "and stoping a moment" changed to "and stopping a moment"
Page 20, "Golden Thumb! his heart" changed to "Golden Thumb! His heart"
Page 20, "sorrowful supense" changed to "sorrowful suspense"
Page 24, "and bh eld the white wand" changed to "and beheld the white wand"
Page 27, "rise and me see." change to "rise and come see."
Page 30, "witches and and wizzards" changed to "witches and wizzards"
Page 38, "robust as own" changed to "robust as his own"
Page 53, "as if they were" changed to "as if there were"
Page 54, "very much embarassed;" changed to "very much embarrassed;"
Page 55, "Under the tution" changed to "Under the tuition"
Page 57, "an indispensible duty" changed to "an indispensable duty"
Page 60, "improper for for him" changed to "improper for him"
Page 62, "more desireable than" changed to "more desirable than"
Page 66, "old Mutapha" changed to "old Mustapha"
Page 67, "vengeance!' 'indeed, father" changed to "vengeance!' 'Indeed, father"
Page 69, "the proceeding evening" changed to "the preceding evening"
Page 73, "fell on his kness" changed to "fell on his knees"
Page 93, "the Inquisidor-general" changed to "the Inquisitor-general"
Page 98, "the Inquisidor-general" changed to "the Inquisitor-general"
Page 99, "the Inquisidor-general" changed to "the Inquisitor-general"
Page 99, "the Inquisidor" changed to "the Inquisitor"
Page 103, "the Inquisidor" changed to "the Inquisitor"
Page 103, "well said Inquisidor" changed to "well said Inquisitor"
Page 103, "quoth the Inquisidor" changed to "quoth the Inquisitor"
Page 104, "my lord Inquisidor" changed to "my lord Inquisitor"
Page 105, "in a desart" changed to "in a desert"
Page 105, "and intantly congratulated" changed to "and instantly congratulated"
Page 105, "Estramadura" changed to "Estremadura"
Page 120, "had not not been" changed to "had not been"
Page 123, "slept little, eat less" changed to "slept little, ate less"
Page 134, "a contemtuous smile" changed to "a contemptuous smile"
Page 135, "bank-notes of your's" change to "bank-notes of yours"
Page 137, "triumphal car till" changed to "triumphal ear till"
Page 158, "the cielings and pillars" changed to "the ceilings and pillars"
Page 173, "again expos- to" changed to "again exposed to"
Page 179, "they eat heartily" changed to "they ate heartily"
Page 195, "and and went" changed to "and went"
Page 195, "almost choaked me" changed to "almost choked me"
Page 205, "the unparalled subject" changed to "the unparalleled subject"




[End of _Select Comic Tales. From the Best Authors._]
