Among other excellencies our illustrious Moor was a most accomplished singer; instead of priding himself, however, upon this quality, he rather strove to conceal it. Many of the cavaliers at the Court of Granada speak good Spanish, and even sing in that language; there were even many Moors who composed verses in Castilian, which were much admired by the Spanish poets. Those which Ozmin had just been singing were composed by a Moorish author, and set to music by one of the same nation. Daraxa doubted not that it alluded to herself; and being unwilling to lose the opportunity of making a reply, she tore a leaf out of her pocket-book upon which she wrote the following words:—
“No more uneasiness about the knot of ribbon; the gift was made without the participation of the heart. Be assured when Daraxa loves, she loves but once in her life-time; if you wish to know more, you will find Laida at the palace-gate, at nine to-morrow morning.”
Having folded this leaf up carefully, she threw it into the lower garden, through the boughs of the orange-trees, which did not conceal her so perfectly as to prevent Ozmin from perceiving her. He observed that she had let something fall, which she had done so cautiously, that her friend had not in the least remarked it, who was, in fact, so much taken up with admiring and listening to the singer, that she thought of nothing else. No sooner had he finished his song, than she called to him to begin again for ladies’ sakes. This request he would willingly have complied with, but the King had just returned from hunting, which obliged Daraxa and her friend to return to the palace, to the great regret of the latter, who did not feel the least desire to quit the spot.
No sooner had the ladies retired, than Ozmin, curious to know what his dear Daraxa had thrown towards him, soon found the folded leaf, under the spot where she had stood to listen to his singing, which he took up, and quitted the garden hastily, congratulating himself on his good fortune, and considering how often he should be there in future.
Daraxa’s billet completely restored him to life, and he did not fail to dispatch Orviedo the next morning to the palace gate, where he met Laida, who was covered with a thick black veil to prevent her being known. As soon as she perceived Orviedo, she addressed him, gave him a letter from her mistress, and received one from Ozmin in return. Before they separated they had together a conversation long enough to enable them to give a most satisfactory account to both the lovers. Ozmin’s letter was full of complaints, and Daraxa’s of protestations of fidelity and love. They were, however, soon appeased. There is, certainly, a voluptuous pleasure in the quarrels of lovers; but they ought not to last long, neither should they too frequently occur, lest they produce ill effects.
What consolation for our lovers to have found means to establish an intercourse by letter, and even to see each other occasionally! Daraxa would gladly have walked alone in the palace gardens, that she might have conversed more freely with Ozmin; but it was too great a risk. They must both have been inevitably lost if any person had discovered them. Besides which, the sight of Ozmin had made so much impression on Elvira, that she never left her friend, and talked of nothing but the cavalier who had sung so finely. She herself proposed to her friend, the very next day, to walk in the garden, in the hope of meeting him there; and the complaisant Daraxa, who equally desired it, willingly consented to accompany her.
They left the palace together, and, upon looking into the lower garden, they perceived that the cavalier had just arrived there, and was seated in the same place as the day preceding. Donna Elvira, who was one of the most lovely women at Court, was not content with shewing herself, but obliged her friend to do the same. Ozmin pretended to be surprised to see them, and was about to retire; but Elvira commenced a conversation with him to detain him; he answered, and they all three at length insensibly engaged in a sprightly discourse, but still only such as a stranger could hold with two unknown ladies.
Ozmin summoned up all his wit on the occasion, and Elvira’s shone no less. Animated by the emotions of a rising passion, she said a thousand smart things, which she could not otherwise have thought of, although naturally full of wit. Daraxa was content to listen and say nothing. In short, each of them was well pleased, and time glided away with the rapidity usual on such agreeable occasions. If Ozmin did not find it tedious, the ladies, on their side, made it sufficiently evident that they were not tired of his company, for the King had already returned to the palace, and they had not once thought of retiring. The gardener put Ozmin in mind that it was time to leave the garden; but Elvira, before they separated, fixed, for another interview, the first day that the King went hunting again.
After this conversation, Elvira was so charmed with Ozmin, that when they had parted, she could not refrain from telling Daraxa that she had never seen so accomplished a cavalier. Any other but the beautiful Moor would have been alarmed by so frank a confession; but she relied so firmly on her lover’s fidelity, that she only smiled at it; while her friend thought her the most insensible of her sex, and made no mystery of the passion she entertained for the unknown gentleman, of whom she was constantly speaking in the most lively terms. “Yes,” she would say to Daraxa, “I am touched by the merits of this cavalier; but I should be glad to know who he is, and why such a man should never shew himself at Court. I conjure you, my dear Daraxa, to ask him this when we next see him.” Ozmin was soon informed of all this by his mistress, who warned him of the delicate situation in which he stood; that he ought not to abuse the credulous passion of Elvira, nor could he, she trusted, be capable of betraying his faithful Daraxa; that in love the slightest appearances cause anxiety; and that when one person is in possession of the heart, she ought to be the sole object of all its desires.
Ozmin really thought that his mistress wrote thus to amuse herself, and therefore answered her in a jesting manner. He even went further, for at the next interview he paid particular court to Elvira, who received his attentions in the most sensible manner, and returned them with usury. Daraxa, agreeably to her friend’s request, then interrogated him about his country and birth, and the present condition of his fortune. He replied, without hesitation, that he was a gentleman of Arragon, and that his name was Don Jaymé Vivez; that, having been taken by the Moors, and set at liberty by the capitulation of Baza, he was waiting in expectation of remittances from his family, to enable him to put himself into a condition to appear at Court. The story was simple and plausible, and sufficiently satisfactory to Donna Elvira, who, having inquired if there was a family in Arragon of the name of Vivez, learned, with extreme satisfaction, that it was one of the most illustrious in the kingdom.