THE STORY OF GABRIELLA DI CAPELLINI
My name is Gabriella, and I belong to the princely house of the Capellini who hold vast possessions in the neighbourhood of Siena. My father is a distinguished general in the service of the Duke of Florence, and in the winter time, when there is little stirring, we inhabited one of the finest palazzos in Florence. I am an only child, and consequently a great heiress; for which reason, and also on account of the high position of my father, you may readily imagine that we did not want for the best society that the town could afford. In the division of troops commanded by my father was an old officer whom he greatly respected for his prudence, courage, and military capacity, whose name was Girolamo dei Stracci, of the noble family of that name; but who belonging to the younger branch, had nothing but a small farm which barely served to supply his wife and only son with sufficient polenta for their daily food, and an occasional piece of goatsflesh for feast days. One day he begged permission from my father to place his son among his pages, saying that he wished to bring him up to be at least a gentleman, if a poor one; and that, though he had trained him as well as he was able, yet his frequent absences, and the difficulty of finding proper companions for him, made him unwilling to let him remain any longer on his farm, and he would esteem it a favour if he would allow him to be placed among his retinue where he would meet with companions who were his equals in rank, and learn all that was necessary for a gentleman and a soldier, until he was old enough to join him with the army. This my father very readily accorded; the young gentleman was enrolled among his pages; and not long afterwards his father died, leaving him but his farm, his sword, and an untarnished name.
Baptisto dei Stracci at this time was only eighteen or nineteen years of age; notwithstanding which, it was difficult to say whether nature had been more bountiful to him in body or in mind. He was tall, slight in figure, as was natural at his age, though well made, and with strikingly handsome and noble features. I would liken him to an Apollo, but I have never seen any cold and lifeless statue so beautiful as he. Added to this, he had so just an understanding, such charm of manner, such perfect courtesy, and spoke so well on every subject under the sun, that he soon became a favourite among his companions and arbiter in all their disputes. Moreover he attracted my father’s notice by his skill in the use of arms and management of the great horse, which, indeed, he sat like a god, and seemed to make obey his every desire merely by the pressure of his knee. Soon after being taken to the wars, he showed such proofs of courage, combined with a certain amount of prudence, as was very unusual in one of his age.
It is not to be supposed that a youth so favoured should escape the notice of my sex; but though he showed the greatest gratitude for all the favours they did him, his would-be adorers found always an impassable barrier to any tender advances: and yet, so courteous and charming was he withal, even in his coldness, that he never made an enemy. The state with which I was surrounded, and semi-seclusion in which all the upper classes of Italian women are kept, so unlike, as I am given to understand, to the way in which your country-women are brought up, prevented me from seeing any of the pages excepting at a distance, but I should have been more than human; let alone more than a daughter of Eve, had I not noticed and unconsciously liked the face of Baptisto dei Stracci. Perhaps I should have thought no more about him, but my father was never tired of praising him, comparing him with the other pages, recalling his father’s memory, and predicting a brilliant future for him. How can I be blamed, therefore, for allowing my thoughts sometimes to dwell upon this paragon; watching him to see if I could detect any of those virtues; and detecting, ah! how quickly, his eyes fixed on me in respectful admiration almost as often as I lifted my eyes to his. My interest once aroused, I could not fail to note how every one spoke well of him: how one would extol his bravery, another his courtesy, and another his good looks. I now listened to, and indeed, encouraged my tiring women when they spoke in his praise, and I felt I know not what secret joy when they complained of his coldness to all womenkind. It was his sole fault, from what I gathered, and it made me look all the more curiously upon him. I thought he did not look cold; nay, once or twice I caught his eye so ardently fixed upon me that he almost made me afraid. But I was soon to resolve the riddle: for one evening when all the inmates of the palace had retired to rest, feeling sleepless, I opened the casement and gazed out upon the garden. It looked so quiet and peaceful in the brilliant moonshine, the quaint forms of the trees cut into all sorts of shapes were clearly shown, the birds and beasts and allegorical monsters. I fancied them conversing with each other until my senses became confused and I dropped asleep with my head resting upon my hands. I could not have slept long, however, before I was awakened by some low and sweet sounds as of a mandoline or some such instrument. It was a sad air, the strings seemed to weep and sigh, but presently combining in a more measured strain they were accompanied by a pleasant voice that sang the following:—
Merely to repeat the words to you can give but a faint idea of the sweetness of the music and the pathos of the voice. I thought that I recognised it, but I could not be sure, for I had never heard Baptisto sing. Could it be he? Whom could it be meant for? And though I thought of all my women one by one, yet none lodged anywhere near upon that side of the palace, nor would any seem to fit to the song. I was tormented as to the meaning and in doubt as to the singer, for though I cautiously looked all around I could see no one. I closed my casement and retired to my couch, but not to sleep, and soon I found my pillow grow wet with tears. In the morning I sallied forth in my mask with my governess and a retinue of servants to take the air; and as I was passing through the great courtyard there were, as usual, numbers of my father’s retainers scattered about, some polishing their arms, some lying lazily in the sun, some talking or playing at cards or dice. I caught the sound of a mandoline: it was the strain I had heard the night before, and looking furtively round I saw Baptisto, who immediately changed the melody as I went out, to a wild plaintive air full of sadness. I cannot describe what my thoughts were at this discovery. Two things were certain: first that the singer of last night was none other than I had suspected; and secondly, that if it was intended for the ears of anyone, it was intended for mine. No other woman was with me then but my governess. Was I intended to hear it? If not, why did he repeat the air again as I passed by? Forsooth it may have been chance, nevertheless the allusion in the song to the difference of rank convinced me that he could mean no other than myself. I felt pleased and flattered, and the more I thought over it, as I could not help thinking, and considered that I, I to whom he had hardly spoken a word, was the object of his adoration, that I had conquered the unconquerable, my heart swelled with pride and delight, and I forgot for the time that difference in degree between us. Whether it was that I hoped to hear that sweet voice again, or that my thoughts were in too great a turmoil, when night came I found it impossible to sleep. I again opened my casement and looked out, wondering if, and (shall I confess it?) wishing that he would come again. Nor was I disappointed, for hardly had I been there for a few moments when, as if he had been awaiting me, I heard the notes of the mandoline, and after a short prelude he sang the following song, into which he put a depth of feeling no words of mine can express:
As he sung, I listened as one entranced, and sighed deeply as he finished. Perhaps he heard me, perhaps he was over bold, but in a minute he was on the balcony at my feet, having climbed up a cypress tree that grew close by. I would have scolded and driven him away, but my agitation was so great that no words were at my command, and before I could control myself he had poured out his soul before me and I had confessed my love. The hours seemed to fly as minutes, and it seemed as though we had had hardly time to say a word before the dawn came on apace. I begged him to leave me, and with great reluctance he went, but not before he had ravished a kiss. A kiss! He had ravished my whole soul! and I knew that I should never more know what peace of mind was while he, my lord, my God almost, was absent. What was this that had come over me? I seemed to be another being; to be born again with new aims and a forgotten past. I lived in the future, I was a woman, and my girlish years seemed to fade away in the remote distance as if they had been but a dry and insipid dream. How I recalled every gesture and every tone! How I dwelt upon them, and turned them in every light! Once, for a moment, I looked into the future, and saw an angry father who cast me out from him; yet life seemed to me so lovely that I could not believe it, but took back my thoughts to the sweet moments that had passed all too quickly. The next day I saw nothing of my love. The day passed more slowly than I could have believed possible, and I almost thought that another Joshua had commanded the sun to stand still. I could scarcely contain myself as night fell; and pleading a migraine, I retired early, dismissed my women as soon as I decently could, and anxiously awaited Baptisto. Another night was passed in delicious converse with him, and at last we began to talk about our future, when he told me that he was bound in honour to tell my father of our love, and to ask his permission to win my hand: nevertheless, we both of us felt that this was tantamount to separation for ever, and our hearts were heavy. How unlike the ecstasy of the night before! As we took leave of each other, and felt, too surely, that we had taken leave for long, perhaps for years, we renewed our vows of unalterable affection, come what might. The next day Baptisto sought an interview with my father, which was readily accorded, for he always saw him with pleasure. On other occasions he had modestly tendered suggestions on military matters, and my father, who had no pride on such a subject, had always found his remarks so sensible and so obviously advantageous, that his more mature experience had seldom prevented him from entertaining them. On this occasion he was to receive a cruel wound, for he loved Baptisto as a son, both for his own and for his father’s sake, and yet you know how great is the pride of us Italians in everything that concerns our family: how their dearest passions are sacrificed to their pride of race, and how they would rather condemn themselves to life-long misery than allow people for whom they care nought to be able to say that their blood has been defiled by a mismarriage. My father could scarcely hear Baptisto out with patience; the idea of an alliance with a house so long impoverished and forgotten was insupportable to him; and he told Baptisto to think no more about it, that he would overlook his presumption in consideration of his friendship towards him, his youth, and the noble house from which he was descended; but that he was to give him his word of honour to forget all about me, otherwise he would have to dismiss him from his service and never see him more. My noble Baptisto in all humbleness acknowledged the difference in rank and riches, and the great kindness that my father had always shown to him; and falling on his knee, said that the great obligations that my father had put him under were almost more than a father would have done for a son. ‘But,’ he added, ‘love is stronger than man, I love your daughter, and I have reason to believe that she returns my affection. Could I have known that I was drifting into love, and that the feeling I felt growing upon me was something different from increasing respect and gratitude for you reflected in one that belonged to you, that respect would have induced me to fly from temptation and to leave you; but, alas, to see your daughter is to love her, and once in love all volition is gone. I loved her, and even then I did not realise that love would demand a closer relationship than respectful admiration. Now, indeed, I am wiser, but I cannot renounce my love, and though my birth is not unworthy of the highest in the land, yet I feel that I have abused the hospitality that you have extended to me; kill me therefore, for I cannot live without her!’ Then, baring his breast, he presented his sword, saying that death at his hands would be more merciful than expulsion. My father was softened at this, and after a moment or two of silence spoke as follows: ‘You are a man of honour, and I grieve right truly that it is impossible for me to give you my daughter. I tell thee, Baptisto, that there is no one that I would rather have as a son than thou, and I had hoped to be able to supply the loss of thy father to thee. Since, however, thy dream cannot be fulfilled, thou must leave me. I will give thee letters for the Duke of Milan, with whom thou mayest take service; once there, thou wilt see many fair women of thy own degree, and thou wilt forget my daughter. When she is married, return to me, and we will be as before.’ Poor Baptisto seized his hand and kissing it with the tears running down his cheeks said that he would go since he had no choice, but that he was sure that he would never love anybody else; and my father, more moved than he cared to show, dismissed him.
Baptisto did not seek another interview with me, but wrote a general account of what had passed between him and my father; his letter concluded as follows: ‘Farewell, I can never love anyone but thee. I wish thee happiness. Whatever be my fate, as long as we both live, I will watch over thee.’ I had expected an end of this kind to my short dream of happiness. And yet the blow was very hard to bear. In your country, perchance, a lady would have written to her cavalier: for I understand that there they choose for themselves, and, unless they are heiresses, marry whom they please. Happy country! But I felt that that was not for me to do, and I verily believe that Baptisto himself would not have been pleased had I done so. As for my father, he said little to me: he blamed me for my want of pride in loving Baptisto, but said nothing more until one terrible day he informed me that Prince Mazzapiglio had formally asked for my hand in marriage, and had been accepted; and that he would that day appear to pay his respects to me. I retired to my apartment as soon as I was permitted, in a very whirl of grief and confusion, no thought would stay a moment together in my brain, and I could not frame any course of conduct. The prince, Baptisto, marriage, and a thousand other thoughts, mingled with ideas of a nunnery or death, chased each other through my mind until I thought that I was going mad. I began a letter to Baptisto, but I could not write coherently, nor did I know where to find him. I sat there, apparently in a stupor, until I was summoned to meet the prince, and I was thankful when I entered the saloon that he was not yet there. He was soon announced, however, and I just managed to rise and make my courtesy, and note that he was a man old enough to be my father, when I lost consciousness and fell on the floor, the blood gushing out of my mouth and nostrils. There was great confusion, and I was carried to my chamber; a physician was summoned, who ordained that I should keep my bed, and warned my parents that they were not to talk to me of marriage at the present; for if I were to break another bloodvessel, I should certainly die. Upon this my parents treated me with the utmost tenderness, and nothing more was said in my hearing of Prince Mazzapiglio, so that after I had kept my bed for the space of about a fortnight and commenced to mend, I began to hope that all that it seemed to me that I had experienced in the last few days was but a dream of an evil spirit. I soon became convalescent, and was permitted for the first time since my seizure to walk in the garden of the palace. My governess was but a few steps before me, talking to my waiting woman, who was the only other person with me, when suddenly the bushes parted at my side, and a boy appeared who, laying his finger on his lips, thrust a note into my hand, and without a sound vanished. So weak was I that I was startled and gave a scream, and my governess and woman turning back, just caught me as I swooned. Fortunately, however, my hand unconsciously closed upon the note, and when I had collected my thoughts, I hid it in my bosom, so that they did not perceive it. Then, with the fair excuse that I did not feel strong enough to remain out any longer, I got back to my apartments, and dismissing the women, tore open the letter, which was, as my heart had told me, from my dear Baptisto. In it he informed me that he had heard of my promised marriage with the Prince Mazzapiglio, who, since he was in high favour at court, and immensely wealthy, might, from a worldly point of view, be considered a far more desirable husband for me than he could be himself. ‘I need not tell you,’ he went on, ‘the agonies that I suffered, but I would not seem to influence you; for I would rather see you happy in a father’s love and well to do in the world, than dragged down to poverty by me with your father’s curse upon us both. But when I heard (for I take care to learn all that goes on), when I heard how grievously you took it, I wrote to your father, saying that I could no longer remain quiet, and that since I was now convinced that your happiness was bound up with mine, I would henceforward do all in my power to make you my wife. I will not write, even to you, where I am, lest this missive fall into the wrong hands, and I should be seized at the instance of your father; but rest assured that I am always near you.’ My joy at receiving this from my dear Baptisto was more than I can tell you; for besides the pleasure of hearing from him, I now felt that he was actively engaged in watching over me, and would not give me up to the hateful prince. The roses returned to my cheeks, my strength waxed, insomuch that in a few days my parents again began cautiously to speak to me about the marriage; and seeing that the talk did not affect me so much as before, they were persuaded that I had overcome my former repugnance, or that at least I had become reconciled to my fate. Although the prince did not yet himself venture to see me, yet scarce a day passed without some reminder from him, such as magnificent jewels and posies, and he even ventured to send me verses. Many of the latter I recognised as old friends; for he doubtlessly thought that I was as ignorant as most of us girls are, and knew not, and still less cared, that besides reading the best authors of my own country, I was mistress of the Latin and French tongues, and had read some of our ancient literature as well as some of the French poets. Some he may have composed himself, or at least have had composed for him; and I will give you an example which is perhaps better than most of his pieces, though it is hardly likely to please a young girl, or to displace a favoured lover:
All this, I say, I made a shift to endure, since I heard nearly every week from Baptisto. I found that he had gained over my governess, which was a great solace to me, for I longed for some sympathising heart to whom I might unbosom myself and through her he sent his letters to me by divers emissaries. My father somewhat suspected our correspondence, and many straits were we put to to conceal it. Once, a boy bringing a letter, perceived some of my father’s servants coming up, and suspecting that they were going to search him, casting about to conceal it, hastily entered a blacksmith’s shop that was hard by, where he thrust the letter into the flames. The servants entered and searched him, but finding nothing, were obliged to let him go; and then seeing the smith fall to laughter, in answer to their questions he told them that if they sought for a paper they might find the ashes if they wanted them. An other time that an old serving-man in like case was bringing me a letter, seeing himself followed, he picked up a stone, and wrapping the letter round it, threw it far into the Arno. The servants took him, and carried him before my father, but to all his questions he would answer him nothing. My father threatened him that he should be whipped, but still he would not confess; until my father, struck by the faithfulness of the fellow, offered him high wages to take service with him. But the man only said that though his master was too poor to give him anything, yet would he serve him as long as he lived. At length, seeing that he could not stop this correspondence, and fearing that I should continue to refuse the prince’s hand if I had the comfort of the letters and sympathy of Baptisto, my father determined to send me to the convent of Santa Barbara, of which a sister of his was the Superior.
This convent had been founded by one of our ancestresses, mainly as a sort of refuge for the females of our family whom it might not be convenient to dower; and Tomasina di Capellini, being the least handsome of my father’s two sisters, was placed in the convent when she was only ten years old, and had been forced to take the veil when she was eighteen. Although she heard news of what was doing in our society and family, for my father sometimes visited her, she knew nothing of the world and its ways; she had been brought up without a mother’s love, amidst a set of women, all of noble families, indeed, but all outcasts. Some, like herself, had never seen the world; others had lived a family life, but on their husbands’ death had retired here; others, again, had sinned, and either by force or of their own will had taken the veil. It is not amazing, therefore, that my aunt took a jaundiced view of the world, and had little sympathy with the softer side of human nature. The holy Mother Ursula, for that was my aunt’s name in religion, received me with coldness; and the next day, sending for me, she held forth in a long discourse upon the sin of opposing the will of our parents, and finally said that it was my father’s desire that I should remain there until I had vanquished my obstinacy and had acquired a proper frame of mind. Should I not consent, she continued, to give my hand to Prince Mazzapiglio within a reasonable time, I was to take the veil and stay there for ever, for in that case my father would have nothing more to say to me. I was thunderstruck. I had hoped that if I had the strength to hold out against him in this my hour of trial, my father, who I knew loved me, would give way; but I knew not the force of that feeling which is derived from a long line of ancestors. I wrote him a passionate letter of entreaty, assuring him of my love, reminding him that I had never disobeyed him before, and begging him to have pity on me. I promised him that if he would not force me to marry where I could not give my heart, I would never marry without his consent; and finished a long epistle with these words:—‘If you deny me my prayer, if you still insist upon my marriage with the prince, it would be easier for me to take the veil and to end my days here, for I am persuaded that this prison will not hold me long, and I shall not have much more to suffer before I am relieved by death.’ In a short time my aunt Ursula sent for me again, and informed me that my father was much grieved at my stubbornness, and that he requested me to hold no further communication with him until I could say that I was ready to obey him. In deep despair I retired to my cell, thinking of Baptisto, for I doubted much whether he knew where I was, so suddenly and so secretly had I been sent away. But even if he did know, what, indeed, could he do? Could he unbolt these locks, or lull to sleep the vigilance of the nuns, when it was impossible even to communicate with me? I wept bitterly, and as day after day passed in the same unvarying monotony, all hope seemed to die away, I grew listless and subdued, I seemed to have no soul. What could it matter, I found myself thinking, what could it matter whom I married? I could never be happy any more, and at least I could please my parents if I consented to their choice.
Here she broke off, saying that it was now late, and she dared not stay any longer, lest she be noticed. But, she added, come to this spot to-morrow night and I will continue my sad story. I assured the lady of my devotion, and took leave of her; and the next evening was ready betimes, for her story interested me much, and moved me even, in parts.
Attached to the convent, she resumed, and surrounded by its walls, was a large garden in which the sisters took the air, and also, when they felt so inclined, did a little gardening. But the real work was done by an old man, who as he became aged, had asked and obtained leave to have the assistance of his son, a young boy, who getting older in due course was dismissed, and a succession of boys took his place. I was too listless and too miserable to do any work in the garden, which perhaps, would have been better for me than my continual brooding. But I used to walk in it, though always accompanied by a sister; for they had, as it seems, taken notice of my increasing melancholy, and feared that I might either make some desperate effort to escape or perchance attempt my own life. Upon one of these occasions I had my attention attracted for a moment by hearing the sister say to the gardener, ‘You have a new boy; why did you dismiss the last? He was not old, and moreover, it seems to me that your new one is somewhat older.’ The gardener replied that the other boy was not dismissed, but that he was on a visit to some relatives, and the new boy was only taking his work during his absence; and then we passed on. This boy was busy at the time in pruning some vines by the side of the walk, and, as I passed by, methought that I heard him whisper the word ‘Baptisto.’ Instantly I turned my head towards him, for we had already passed, whereupon he made a sign which showed me he had something to say. As we came round again, I brushed past him as close as I could, and with great dexterity he slipped a note into my hand. If I had not had leisure after I had passed him the first time to compose myself as I walked round the garden, my agitation might have betrayed me; but as it was, I was prepared, and hastily concealing the note in my bosom I presently told the sister that I was fatigued and would retire into my cell. It was indeed from Baptisto: a letter of passionate love. He informed me that I could communicate with him in the same way that I received this; and he even had the forethought to enclose a sheet of paper and a tiny piece of Indian ink, for whence could I have procured writing materials without drawing down upon me the suspicion of the sisters? He further begged me to consent to a secret marriage: if I would do so he had already arranged a plan for my escape; but since he could not take me to his own relations for fear of pursuit, so he could not ask me to fly with him without having the right to protect me. I was greatly troubled, for it is a terrible thing to marry without the consent of one’s parents, nay, against their express will; while on the other hand there was the prospect of the happiness of having Baptisto ever by my side. I had told my father that I would never marry without his consent, provided that he would not force me to marry without my own, and he had not listened to me; so that I now feared every day that I should be forced into a hateful union with one I could never love. You who know the world and weak human nature will guess which way this conflict within me ended: I wrote the words ‘I consent,’ and passed it to the messenger the next day. Perhaps it was fortunate for me that my anxiety and grief at disobeying my parents prevented the joy which I should otherwise have felt, and did in part feel, from manifesting itself in my face; and so without being suspected by the sisters, who still watched me vigilantly, and every few days under pretext of cleaning diligently searched my cell, I got another note full of rapture, and containing instructions concerning the method of my escape. I kissed it again and again, and fearing lest it might be discovered, I ate it, for I knew it by heart. Baptisto had been informed by his messenger of the position of the convent and all other necessary matters, and he had laid his plans accordingly. Now, every evening the sister who acted as janitor took her keys into my aunt’s cell, where they remained until required for matins. These I was to procure, but the key of the priest’s door which gave access to the chapel from outside, was at present in the hands of the gardener in order that he might give the masons access who were at work there, without troubling the nuns every morning: and this Baptisto was himself to get. Oh, how I trembled when the appointed night came! for I well knew that if I failed this time good care would be taken that I never had the opportunity again. The sisters noticed my agitation, which I could not conceal, and thinking that I had the fever, I was nearly prevented from my purpose by being sent to my cell before the evening meal; but I assured them that I could not sleep, and begged them so earnestly to let me stay that they gave way. I soon slipped into the buttery, and there, noting my aunt’s flagon of wine, which was different from those the sisters used, I put a few drops of opium into it, which Baptisto had sent me for that purpose. Instead, however, of feeling sleepy after it, as I had expected her to do, my aunt appeared to be more lively than usual, and also in a better temper, for she bantered me on my obstinacy as she called it, and made the sisters laugh. I was in despair, and still more when, as we were retiring to our cells after the meal, my aunt called to me and bade me follow her. For the first time since I had been in the convent, she talked kindly to me, and put before me the advantage of such an alliance as that with Prince Mazzapiglio, my duty to my father, and many other things of a like nature. While she was talking, the janitress brought in the keys, which I looked at with hungry eyes, for I feared that my aunt might remain awake the whole night; but to my great relief, after a little longer her mind seemed to begin to wander, she paused in her talk as if to gather her thoughts together, and these pauses gradually grew longer until her head, which she rested on her hands, gradually sank down upon the table, and she slept. I seized the keys, extinguished the lamp, and quietly retired to my own cell. There I waited for what seemed to me ages, until I thought all the sisters were asleep; then stealing down the corridor, starting at every sound, I picked out the key of the chapel door without much difficulty, and hurrying through in an agony of fear lest the marble effigies of my relations should rise up against me, I made my way to the other door, where I expected to find Baptisto waiting. I tried it, but found it locked. I listened, but could hear no sound. In trembling accents I whispered the name of Baptisto, but there was no reply save the sighing of the wind. I sank down on the stone floor and wept, for I felt that some untoward accident must have happened: the gardener had gone out with his key, Baptisto had been seen, or I knew not what! I only knew that all my chances were gone; that the hope which had so newly cheered me was but a bitter mockery; and that henceforward I was doomed to a life of misery and living entombment. But just as I was on the point of returning to my cell I heard the key turning in the lock, and with a cry of joy and relief I found myself in Baptisto’s arms. I could not restrain my tears, so great was the revulsion of my feelings from the lowest depths of despair to the height of happiness; but Baptisto, after a tender embrace, hurried me out, and at a short distance we came to the horses he had in waiting, and then dismissing the servant we two rode away alone. It did not take us long to reach San Martino, where Baptisto had arranged with the priest to marry us and ask no questions. In his poor chamber, therefore, and at midnight, I was married, the priest’s housekeeper holding our horses the while; and no power on earth, not even the Holy Father himself, could undo it. We immediately mounted again and rode on some distance, carefully avoiding the larger places, such as Castelfiorentino, where Baptisto was known, and towards dawn we reached Montajone, a mountain village, where we sought the hospitality of a cottager. Here we gave our horses a rest; and I, who was dying with fatigue, not being used to exercise during my long imprisonment in the convent, after a hasty meal, such as the place afforded, retired to an inner room and was soon fast asleep. Baptisto, who seemed to be made of iron, meanwhile looked to the horses, procured some food to take with us, and made other necessary preparations. In a couple of hours he awoke me, and we resumed our flight. We felt pretty sure that we should not be immediately followed, because I should not be missed until the morning, as I did not usually attend the midnight mass, and no one saw us depart; nor, unless they inquired of the priest of San Martino (if they chanced to come there, and he chanced to break his oath) would they obtain any tidings of the direction which we had taken; for all the country we had passed through was wrapped in slumber. For these reasons, and for the sake of our horses, and perhaps too because we liked to ride hand in hand, we did not urge our beasts along too fast. We rode the greater part of the day, with but two hours’ rest at noon in a wood, and were looking out for some place to halt for the night, when in the neighbourhood of a mountain town called Chianni, I chanced to see a troop of armed men riding down upon us. I called to Baptisto to fly, at the same time turning my horse off the track into a wood, and sped on as fast as I could make my way among the trees; but Baptisto, who was busier in looking on my face than in looking out along the road, did not follow quickly. I fled on some distance, and then halted for Baptisto, but the woods were silent and I was afraid to cry out. I searched hither and thither, but to no purpose, and by-and-by the shades of night began to fall and my horse gave evident signs of being tired out. I dismounted and led it along, stumbling at every step, and as the darkness fell thick, as it soon did among those trees, my fears grew stronger. Every shadow methought to be a wild beast, and the soughing of the wind sounded to me as the nearing cries of the wolves. Tired as I was, it seemed that I had walked for hours when at length I saw a light in the distance, for which I made at once, and found to proceed from a humble cottage. I knocked at the door, and an old man came out, shading the lamp with his hand, while his old wife peered over his shoulder. I asked him if it was yet far to Quirico, for that was the port we had been making for, and whence we had intended to sail for Sicily. The man appeared to be greatly amazed at seeing me, and replied that it was a day’s journey from hence, and now too dark to seek the way, nor was there, he added, any village in the neighbourhood. I asked him therefore if he would give me shelter for the night; at which he sighed, and said ‘Alas! this wood is haunted by bands of evil men, and should they come upon me, as they often do, they might do thee an injury, and I could not protect thee.’ Thereupon I said, ‘Father, I have no choice; if I go on, I shall lose my way and perhaps be torn to pieces by wolves, or even meet some of those bands you fear. If I stay with you, I shall only run one risk, and moreover, both I and my horse are exhausted: therefore I pray you, give me food and shelter for this night.’ The old couple then gave me permission to enter, and the best that their cottage afforded. My horse was stabled in a little shed, and we retired early to rest. But my fears for Baptisto and the thought of my misfortunes kept sleep far from me. How hard had been our lot, and how happy we might have been but for our absurd Italian pride! I had been nearly driven mad by my fears lest I should be forced into a marriage that I detested; I had lost my father’s love, a splendid home, and been banished to the gloomy imprisonment of the convent; and now, when I thought that some chance of happiness was dawning for me in my Baptisto’s arms, I had again lost him: nay, he was perhaps killed, and I had lost him for ever! Tormented by these thoughts, I tossed about and wooed sleep in vain. Just as it grew dawn, methought I heard the distant trampling of many horses and men. Hastily rising, I looked forth, and saw many armed men coming towards the cottage, which greatly terrified me, and seeking to save myself, I went out to the yard at the back of the cottage for concealment if it were possible. There I was fortunate enough to find a great heap of coarse hay, in which I completely buried myself. Hardly had I done so, when they entered the cottage, and after looking round, entered the shed, where they found my horse and saddle; upon which they asked the old man whom he had with him, and he, not seeing me, declared that there was no one there saving himself and his wife; but as for the horse, he said he had found it grazing outside his cottage the evening before, and for fear lest it might be killed by the wolves, he had stabled it. They appeared to be satisfied with this explanation, and said that since the horse had no owner they would give it one and take it with them. Then they dispersed themselves through the cottage, many of them coming out into the yard, where building a fire, they cooked themselves some goatsflesh and other food that they had brought with them, and producing an abundance of wine, they made merry and grew very riotous; and had I not then escaped another very great danger which convinced me that I was under the Divine protection, I should have been even more terrified than I was. For when the men came out into the yard, they tossed aside their arms, and one out of very wantonness threw his spear into the heap of hay in which I lay concealed, and so close did it pass to my right side that it even tore my gown. I was so afraid that I nearly cried out, but mercifully was able to restrain myself; and there I lay a-trembling while they rested and ate and drank their fill: and it then growing light, they went away, taking my horse with them. As soon as they were gone, the old man asked his wife if she knew where I was, for he was troubled concerning me; and I then came forth and related to them how I had concealed myself and what had passed, at which they greatly marvelled. Now that it was daylight, the old man told me that I might safely proceed on my journey. At about ten miles distance, there was, he told me, a castle to which he would conduct me, called Castellina Maritima, where I could be safely lodged, and thither he guided me. After resting there a day, and not getting any tidings of Baptisto, I proceeded to Quirico, where to my despair I still could hear nothing of him. And then came the night in which we were attacked in the manner you wot. While the fighting was going on and I was watching and praying from my refuge, methought I saw Baptisto among the few who had stayed and were defending the place from the Turks; and I have seen him here on board this galley rowing among the slaves. How relieved, and at the same time how miserable I felt when I recognised him you will readily imagine: relieved that he had escaped from the robbers, and miserable that through me, and in my defence, he should have been condemned to this slavery. I trust in you to help to communicate with him in order that we may endeavour to form some plan of escape, and failing that, I am resolved to put an end to this life which seems destined to be nought but a source of unhappiness to its owner and to all who come in contact with her.
It was already late when she had finished her narrative, and we therefore agreed to meet the next night to consider what were best to be done. The next day, as I dressed Baptisto’s wounds, I whispered to him that I knew his story; but we could come to no plan of escape. We were steering up towards Genoa, and as we neared the place a galley came out flying a flag of truce, and our fleet halted to parley. All the captains assembled on board our vessel, and the embassy from Genoa, several grave and reverend signors, came on board too. They were come to offer the exchange of Mahometan captives for Christians, which was accepted of, but only a few, and those that had been lately taken, were exchanged: for most of the slaves had no friends in these parts. Among the rest of the embassy was a man of consideration, who when he was come on board and his eyes fell on Gabriella could not restrain the hot tears from coursing down his wrinkled cheeks. She also recognising him seemed to fall into a swoon; and I soon discovered that this was her father. The Turks at the beginning would not listen to any offer of ransom, but at length, being tempted by a large sum, they gave way, and Gabriella was free to go. But this she refused without Baptisto being also ransomed; for, as she told her father, he was her husband, and she intended rather to die than be ransomed and leave him, who was become a slave for her sake. The old general had a terrible struggle betwixt his pride and his love for his only daughter, yet in the end he could not choose but give way: for was it not a greater dishonour to leave his daughter in captivity among the Turks than to acknowledge her marriage with Baptisto, who, if poor, at least came of noble family? Moreover, she was married to him and the marriage could not be undone, so that even if Baptisto remained in captivity she could never make a great alliance. Therefore it was that he gave way, and the last I saw of them was the three going away very lovingly together. I was enraged that there could be so much ingratitude in the world as to leave me, whom they seemed not to think of, behind. Had I guessed at it, I would have informed the Turks of the great riches of the Capellini. But it was too late, and I was left on board the galley without hope of release, with the agony of disappointment, and the fear that as soon as we returned to Algiers I should be recognised and punished for my attempted escape.
The Rais, or Captain-general, was now satisfied with the success of the expedition, and accordingly the fleet set sail for their respective ports. But my estate was of the most miserable, for I greatly feared that I should be recognised when I arrived, and punished, as I have already related. There was a great concourse at the landing place, of men quiet and dignified, and of women giving their shrill cries of joy or ululations. As soon as the prisoners were taken ashore, I observed the same renegado that deceived so many when I was first taken; and who, I found, had been on board one of the galleys buying the slaves from their captors, now busy among the prisoners marshalling his purchases: and in the bitterness of my heart I bethought me of a tale to relate whereby I might revenge the Christians he had deceived. Accordingly, chained at the oar as I was, I cried out in a loud voice (for by this time I had learned to speak their language so as to be understood), that I had something to say unto the Dey; at which no man durst affront me, but my chains were knocked off, and I was led into the Presence. After that I had made my salaam, I was bidden to speak; whereupon I said: O Dey! this slave of thine, this Emir Hassan, hath deceived thee, for there was a great beauty among the prisoners, whose face was as the full moon, with joined eyebrows, and a body like the willow wand, so that the sight of her would ravish all beholders. And then one stood forward, whom I had instructed, and recited the following verses, which I will do into English: