This intrigue became by degrees very distressing to our two lovers. Elvira was really in love, and became more troublesome to them in proportion as her love increased. Ozmin no sooner perceived that she was in earnest, than he completely altered his behaviour towards her, and only addressed her in a civil and polite manner; but Elvira’s passion increased without his assistance. Daraxa, well satisfied with Ozmin’s conduct, pitied her friend sincerely, and would gladly have undeceived her; but she feared that such behaviour on her part would have excited Elvira’s jealousy, the effects of which were too much to be feared in the present condition of her fortune.
In the mean time Spring came on, and gave quite another face to the affairs at Court. Ferdinand resolved to open the campaign by the siege of Granada; and the Moors, who had foreseen that this would be the case, were preparing to do their best in defence of so important a place. They had in the city a garrison of fifteen thousand men, of the best troops of King Mahomet. The Catholic King was well aware of this, and therefore had taken the precaution to solicit, by his Ministers, as well as through the interposition of the Pope, the assistance of the other Christian Princes, to execute his design of chasing all the Infidels out of Spain. Many of these Princes had promised succours; and as soon as he was well assured that their troops were advancing to join him, he set forward himself at the head of his army, with the intention of surprising the Moors, and to give them no further time to fortify themselves.
As the Queen foresaw that so precarious a siege would last for a considerable time, she resolved to accompany the King, and pass the campaign with him. This report being spread, our two lovers were much rejoiced at it, hoping that, in the confusion of the army, they might find an opportunity, with the assistance of Orviedo, to get into Granada. But their ill luck ordained it otherwise; for the Queen, the evening prior to her departure, told Daraxa that she was not to accompany her in this journey. “To have less trouble,” added that Princess, “I shall only take with me those women whose services I shall absolutely require. It is my intention to leave my maids of honour at Seville, with their relations, or under the care of persons of distinction, to whom I shall recommend them. As for you, my dear Daraxa, you will be entrusted to Don Lewis de Padilla. I have made choice of this Nobleman because he is the father of your friend Elvira; besides which, I think you will find yourself more agreeably situated in his family than elsewhere.”
The despair of Ozmin knew no bounds when his mistress sent him word of this order of the Queen. He saw that all his plans were frustrated, and his mind, fluctuating amidst a variety of thoughts and undetermined suggestions, inspired alternately by love and glory, was in an inconceivable perplexity. But he received so many tender and moving letters from Daraxa, that she at length succeeded in fixing his irresolute thoughts upon herself alone. The following is one of these letters, which I have selected from among them:
“Orviedo has informed me how excessively you lament your absence from Granada. Depart, Ozmin, depart; your heart is more devoted to glory than to love. Let me not detain you here any longer: I well know that your departure will cost me my life; but the severest pangs that I shall suffer will be in dying for an ungrateful man, who abandons me at the very time that I stand most in need of his assistance. I thought myself dearer to you than all the world. How greatly was I mistaken! Of whom am I to complain? Of myself, for having believed you, or of you for having thus beguiled me? If my love for you does not make me blind, your life is mine. You have told me so a hundred times, nay, you have sworn it. Why then, without my consent, do you dispose of what is mine? How can you think of applying it to any other use than that of serving me? Ah! Ozmin, you know but little how to love! How far are you behind me in love’s race! Glory may be every where acquired; and many might be found, if sought for, who would willingly resign all pretensions to glory, and share the distresses of an unfortunate woman, in preference to serving all the monarchs upon earth.”
Anxious as Ozmin was to render himself serviceable to his country, he was unable to resist Daraxa’s persuasive remonstrances; and the lover, on this occasion, gained the victory over the hero in him. The Court set forward for the army; and the beautiful Moor was received by the Marquis de Padilla with as much honour as if she had been the Queen herself. Elvira, who loved her tenderly, and whom an interest still stronger than friendship assisted to rejoice that they should henceforth be inseparable companions, was delighted with this change. Daraxa would also have been tolerably satisfied with her situation, if she had had a little more liberty in the family; but, on the contrary, she was more confined than she had been at Court. She was completely a prisoner. In the first place, neither she nor Elvira dared venture to leave the house, under any pretence whatever. The only indulgence that was extended to them was to walk of an evening in the garden at a regulated hour; and, as if this walk was not a recreation sufficiently restricted for them, the old Marquis generally took the trouble of accompanying them; or, if he sometimes had not sufficient time to allow of his harassing them with his vexatious company, Don Rodrigo, his son, took charge of them, and they gained nothing by the change. In addition to all this, the ladies’ apartments had no look-out but towards the garden, without any window towards the street. They saw nobody from without doors, neither men nor women; and of the people in the house, very few were permitted to speak to them.
All these unpleasantries united to embitter the extreme civilities paid her by Don Lewis. This old courtier professed that he only treated her in this manner from the very great consideration and respect he entertained for her. Daraxa was not, however, the dupe of these fine protestations; but losing all hope of receiving any communication from her lover, she would have completely given herself up to chagrin, had not Donna Elvira also been concerned in it, who, being scarcely able to live any longer without her dear Don Jaymé, told Daraxa that she much wished to write to that cavalier. “Ah!” answered Daraxa, “and how do you think of conveying the letter to him?” “One of my women,” replied Elvira, “has prevailed on a man, who does not belong to the family, and who is well acquainted with Vivez, to undertake to deliver the letter into his own hands.” Daraxa approved of her resolution, and they sat down to compose a letter together. The daughter of Don Lewis wrote it, and Daraxa added these words in her own language: “The chief happiness of lovers consists in seeing each other; their chief misery in being separated. I languish in expectation of hearing from you. I die if I do not receive some news from you shortly.”
Elvira asked the meaning of these words, and Daraxa answered, “I have sent word to Don Jaymé that his mistress can no longer endure his absence, and must fall a prey to ennui, if she do not find relief where she expects it.” The most attached friends generally behave in this manner towards each other when they are rivals in love.
The letter was faithfully delivered to Ozmin, who was the more rejoiced at its receipt as he had up to that moment employed in vain all Orviedo’s ingenuity to discover what was going on at Don Lewis’s: and as one happy event never occurs, according to the proverb, without another treading on its heels, it happened, two days after this, that Orviedo appeared before him dressed like a labourer. Ozmin did not recognize him at first, but shortly afterwards asked him the reason for this disguise. “I will tell you,” replied Orviedo. “I equipped myself in this manner for the purpose of perambulating the Marquis de Padilla’s house, in the hope of meeting one of Daraxa’s Moorish women, or of scraping acquaintance with some one of Don Lewis’s servants. I chanced to stop before a particular part of the garden, where several workmen were engaged in repairing the wall. The master-mason seeing me very attentive to their work, took me for one of his own trade: ‘My good friend,’ said he to me, ‘I am in want of labourers to finish this job, are you inclined to lend a hand?’ I replied, that I was employed elsewhere, but that I had a comrade who was out of work, and would be glad to make himself useful to him. ‘Send him to me,’ said the master-mason, ‘if he only knows how to wheel a barrow, he will be of service, and I will pay him well.’ Upon this I left him,” added Orviedo, smiling, “to propose this fine job to you, which love presents to make you pass your time more agreeably.”
Ridiculous as such an undertaking appeared to Ozmin, he was too much enamoured of Daraxa to reject this opportunity of seeing her. He accepted the employment, dressed himself like a workman, and followed Orviedo, who said to the master-mason, “Senor Maestro de obra, this is my comrade Ambrosio, an unfortunate soldier, who after having been four years a prisoner among the Moors, is reduced to labour for his subsistence.” The bargain was soon struck, and Ambrosio hired to begin his work the next morning. Our new workman, to shew that he had his work at heart, was up betimes to attend his new master, who led him into the garden, and putting the wheelbarrow into his hands, told him what he was to do. Ambrosio took to his work as readily as if he had been all his life-time in the trade: at which his master was so much satisfied, that he praised him exceedingly, assuring him that he would, in time, make an excellent workman.