“And were he to spurn her from him—oh! your highness, it would kill her!” said the page, fixing his large, eloquent eyes upon the countenance of the grand vizier. “Consider his exalted rank and her humble position——”
“Doth she aspire to become his wife?” asked Ibrahim.
“She would be contented to serve him as his veriest slave,” responded Constantine, now strangely excited, “were he but to look kindly upon her: she would deem herself blest in receiving a smile from his lips, so long as it was bestowed as a reward for all the tender love she bears him.”
“Who is this man that is so fortunate as to have excited so profound an interest in the heart of one so beautiful?” demanded the grand vizier. “Name him to me—I will order him to appear before me—and, for thy sake, I will become an eloquent pleader on behalf of thy sister.”
Words cannot express the joy which flashed from the eyes of the page, and animated his handsome though softly feminine countenance, as, casting himself on his knees at the feet of Ibrahim Pasha, he murmured, “Great lord, that man whom my sister loves, and for whom she would lay down her life, is thyself!”
Ibrahim was for some minutes too much overcome by astonishment to offer an observation—to utter a word; while the page remained kneeling at his feet. Then suddenly it flashed to the mind of the grand vizier that the only humble abode which he had entered since he had become an officer holding a high rank in the service of Solyman, was that of his Greek emissary, Demetrius; and it now occurred to him, that there was a striking likeness between the young page and the beautiful Calanthe: whom he had seen on that occasion.
“Constantine,” he said, at length, “art thou, then, the brother of that Demetrius whom I dispatched some three months ago to Florence?”
“I am, my lord—and ’tis our sister Calanthe of whom I have spoken,” was the reply. “Oh! pardon my arrogance—my presumption, great vizier!” he continued, suddenly rising from his kneeling position, and now standing with his arms meekly folded across his breast—“pardon the arrogance, the insolence of my conduct,” he exclaimed; “but it was for the sake of my sister that I sought service in the household of your highness. I thought that if I could succeed in gaining your notice—if in any way I could obtain such favor in your eyes as to be admitted to speak with one so highly raised above me as thou art, I fancied that some opportunity would enable me to make those representations which have issued from my lips this day. How patiently I have waited that occasion, Heaven knows! how ardent have been my hopes of success, when from time to time your highness singled me out from amongst the numerous free pages of your princely household to attend upon your privacy—how ardent, I say, these hopes have been, your highness may possibly divine. And now, my lord, that I have succeeded in gaining your attention and pouring this secret into your ears, I will away to Calanthe and impart all the happiness that is in store for her. Though the flowers may hold up their heads high in the light of the glorious sun, yet she shall hold hers higher in the favor of your smile. Generous master,” he added, suddenly sinking his voice to a lower tone and reassuming the deferential air which he had partially lost in the excitement of speaking, “permit me now to depart.”
“This evening, Constantine,” said the grand vizier, fixing his dark eyes significantly upon the page, “let your sister enter the harem by the private door in the garden. Here is a key; I will give the necessary instructions to the female slaves to welcome her.”
Constantine received the key, made a low obeisance, and withdrew, leaving the grand vizier to feast his voluptuous imagination with delicious thoughts of the beauteous Calanthe.