“There is but one reason, my Lords, sufficiently imperative to justify the step that I have taken, in thus presenting myself before you. I know the rules that modesty prescribes for persons of my sex; but there are occasions when these rules may be dispensed with. On such an occasion am I come hither, to implore justice against yourselves. A sentence is to be put in execution to-morrow, that you have pronounced upon a man, whose only crime is that of having defended his life against assassins. This is an incontrovertible fact, of which I was myself an eye-witness, as well as Donna Elvira, and two waiting-women who were also with us in the wood. Shall two peasants be allowed to come up behind two Cavaliers, and beat them with clubs most unmercifully, and shall not these Cavaliers be justified in defending themselves against so unwarranted an assault? If the Bailiff’s son came with two of his friends, all three armed with swords, and rushed upon two men who had nothing but sticks to protect themselves with, what crime have these latter committed in acting on the defensive against such dastardly villains? Who among you, gentlemen, finding himself in the same situation, but would do his utmost to kill his opponent, if no other means remained of saving his own life? but why should I enlarge upon that point? you need not be told that it is the law of nature. It is now said that it was a mistake of the Bailiff’s son: but what of that? his mistake cannot justify his actions, neither can it criminate the persons whom he wished to assassinate.
“I shall not trouble you, my Lords, with any further remarks, except to inform you what has induced me to interest myself so strongly for your prisoner. He is not a gentleman of Arragon, nor is he Don Jaymé Vivez, but the brave Ozmin, whose name is well known among your troops, as having distinguished himself in many glorious actions. He it was, who, the last day of the sports killed the two bulls, and saved the life of Don Alonso de Zuniga. But what has impelled me more than all his noble qualities, to make this appeal to your Justice, is, that he is my husband, if I may be permitted to give that name to a man who with the mutual consent of our parents has plighted his faith to me, and received mine in return. Reflect on what I have laid before you, my Lords, before you cause a sentence to be carried into execution against a kinsman of King Mahomet, whom you ought not to have condemned on such slight grounds.”
The beautiful Moor had no sooner finished her speech, than a noise arose throughout the hall that very much startled and frighted the Judges: every body crying out, that the prisoner was innocent, and ought to be released. The chief Justice commanded silence, which being obtained, he replied to the Lady in the name of himself and brothers, “That they might possibly have been misinformed in this affair: that they would review the whole matter, and give her their answer that very same day.” But the whole assembly cried out again, that the prisoner ought instantly to be set at liberty, threatening to force the prison-doors if this were refused. The same Judge answered, “That after a judgment was once pronounced, it was no longer in their power to liberate the prisoner; that all they could do on their parts, was to suspend the execution of the sentence until they received orders from their Majesties, who alone were now able to annul it.” Daraxa then requested permission to visit Ozmin; and it was granted her without hesitation, on condition that no more than four persons should enter the prison with her, and that she would engage that no violence should ensue.
The cavalcade proceeded to the prison in the same order as it had arrived at the palace, and the beautiful Moor chose Don Alonso, Don Diego de Castro, Orviedo, and the Moorish officer, to go in with her. Conceive, if possible, the agreeable surprise of Ozmin, when he saw Daraxa enter his chamber with Don Alonso, and learnt what she had just achieved for him. His joy could only be equalled by that of his mistress, whose heart overflowed with rapturous emotion which she could not otherwise express than by the tears that flowed in torrents from her eyes. Zuniga partook of the pleasure of the lovers, and embraced his friend as sincerely as though he had not been his rival. His friendship mingled with his love. He could not, however, refrain from reproaching him for his want of confidence, threatening with a smile, that he would be avenged for his dissimulation, by continuing in love with the beautiful Moor for the remainder of his life. This reproach drew compliments upon him from both of them. Daraxa declared that next to Ozmin he would ever possess her esteem; and Ozmin assured him that, with the exception of Daraxa, there was no one whose love he should so highly prize. Zuniga did not fail to make obliging returns to these kind professions of friendship; after which he introduced his friend Don Diego to Ozmin, as a Cavalier of distinguished birth and merit. This gave rise to further compliments, till at length they began to think of the more important consideration that brought them hither, and resolved to send off a messenger instantly to their Majesties to obtain the prisoner’s pardon. Orviedo was fixed on, and immediately set off for Granada, with letters both to Ozmin’s and Daraxa’s relations.
Orviedo made such dispatch, that after three days he returned to Seville, with his master’s pardon, and an order to the Magistrates to treat him with all the honors due to his noble birth, and becoming the future husband of the beautiful Moor. As soon as Daraxa was informed that Ozmin was at liberty to leave the prison, she repaired thither with a more numerous and more magnificent equipage than before. Every Cavalier of any distinction in the city was among the cavalcade. Don Rodrigo de Padilla made himself particularly remarkable for his magnificence. He insisted on making one amongst them, and expressed to Daraxa his sincere joy at the good success of her undertaking, in spite of all the old Marquis’s rage and vexation, whose conduct he by no means approved of; and when he saw Ozmin, he behaved towards him in a most handsome manner.
Thus our hero left prison with as much honor and joy, as he was thrust into it with shame and sorrow. The same people who had but a few days before desired his death, now followed the cavalcade with acclamations of delight, so extremely anxious were they to see the famous conqueror of the Bulls. Don Lewis, whose resentment and haughtiness were by no means abated, was the only person who did not visit Ozmin, whom he could not regard in any other light than a man who had brought dishonor upon his family, by the great talk and noise that his daughter’s love for Don Jaymé had made in the city. He fully expected that he should be rallied at court on this account. For this reason he pretended illness, as an excuse for not being able to accompany Daraxa to Granada, and appeared no more in Seville until after her departure.
As for Elvira, besides that she had all the ill-humour of her father to contend with, she could not console herself under the reflection that she had been deceived by the two persons whom she most loved, though, in truth, she had more cause to blame her own conduct than theirs. She did not long survive her mortification and disappointment. The ill-humours and vexations of Don Lewis and his daughter, did not prevent the making extraordinary rejoicings at Don Alonso’s, where Ozmin and Daraxa lodged until the next day, when they set out for Granada, accompanied by Don Alonso and Don Diego de Castro, who insisted on being present at their nuptials, which were celebrated with the greatest magnificence, and honoured by the presence of their Catholic Majesties. There were tournaments and bull feasts, where Moors competed with the Christians in courage and address. In addition to all this, the two lovers, to render themselves more worthy that Heaven should shower its blessings on their nuptials, embraced the Christian religion, and became the noble origin of one of the most illustrious houses in Spain.
The Friar who had entertained us with this story, finished here. After which his friend and himself commenced a conversation respecting the wars of Granada. During all this time the muleteer, perceiving that we were almost at the gates of Cazalla, seemed particularly anxious to say a few words to me in private. Since our last adventure, he had not uttered a word, but, as we were now about to part, perhaps never to meet again, he at length broke silence by demanding of me three crowns, for the charges of my journey, as well as for my share of what we had expended at the inn where we had supped so well the preceding evening, and breakfasted so delicately that very morning. This was any thing but a joke to me, who little expected such a demand, and might have defied him or any other person to have made me pay it, not having half that sum in my purse; and we soon grew so warm in our arguments against each other on this subject, that I had armed myself with two flints, which I should certainly have levelled at his head, had not the Friars taken compassion on me, and prevented me from getting myself well thrashed. These gentlemen set themselves up for umpires in the case, and after having heard both parties, condemned me to pay the muleteer a fourth part of what he demanded. I was obliged to obey this decree, which, favorable as it was towards me, reduced my finances so low, that I had scarcely sufficient remaining in my purse to defray the expences of a supper and night’s lodging at another Inn, whither I repaired after having taken leave of the two Friars, and the unlucky muleteer, who had no great reason, in my opinion, to thank his stars that he ever met with me.