CHAPTER VII.
Of a singular Adventure and Peril which befell Periander through the Malice of a fair Courtezan.
With good manners, great personal charms, and a richly adorned and splendid house, many defects will be overlooked, because a well-bred person does nothing that offends the eye, and rich ornaments and beauty of person are always pleasing to look upon, and every one likes a fine house.
Now Hippolyta possessed all these things. She was a courtezan, who might have vied in wealth with the Flora of ancient days; and in courteous manners, with good breeding itself. It was impossible for those who knew her, not to love her in some degree, for her beauty enchanted them, her riches gave her power, and she made herself adored by the winning courtesy of her manners. When love meets three such charms as these, it melts even hearts of iron, opens the closest purse, and breaks through a determination, though it were made of marble, and still more, when to these three things you add deceitfulness, and a flattering tongue,—very convenient qualities for those who desire to win the admiration of all men by their charms. Is there by chance a man of such sharp wits, that seeing one of these charmers, such as I have painted, setting aside her mere beauty, would not be tempted by her winning and gentle ways. Beauty partly blinds and partly dazzles; with those it blinds, the senses are run away with; with those who are only dazzled, it is the mind that receives pleasure. None of these things were in Periander's thoughts, as he entered Hippolyta's house; but as Love sometimes builds his structure on a careless foundation, he now fabricated one suddenly, not in Periander's, but in Hippolyta's heart; for in the bosoms of such as she, it does not require much time or trouble to light the flame.
Hippolyta had already seen Periander in the street, and his beauty, grace, and above all, the idea of his being a Spaniard, had pleased her fancy. From a Spaniard might be expected the most unheard-of liberality, and the most refined taste. She had made known her thoughts to Zabulon, and desired that he would bring him to her house, which was always in such order and so adorned, as to look more like preparations for a wedding than the reception of pilgrims.
The lady Hippolyta had a friend, called Pyrrhus, a Calabrian, a bully, of a hot temper and bad disposition, and whose living was gained by his sword, his dexterous fingers, and Hippolyta's contrivances; for he often performed a job for her, without the help of any one. But what he gained most from was the nimbleness of his legs, which he prized more than his hands, and what he chiefly valued himself on was, that he could always keep Hippolyta in fear of him, in whatever mood he might be, amorous or severe; for these tame doves are never without hawks to pursue them, nor birds of prey to tear them to pieces,—a miserable treatment for these poor foolish creatures!
I would tell you, then, that this gentleman (of whom it is enough to know the name) happened to be in Hippolyta's house at the very time that the Jew and Periander entered it. Hippolyta took him aside and said to him, "Go, my friend, and take with thee this chain of gold which has been sent me by the pilgrim; it was brought me by Zabulon this morning."
"Look well what you are about, Hippolyta," said Pyrrhus, "for, as I conjecture, this pilgrim is a Spaniard, and a chain of gold sent from his hand, worth at least a hundred crowns, without having even touched yours, seems much to me, and a thousand fears alarm me."
"Do thou, O Pyrrhus," said she, "take away the chain, and leave it to me to support the weight, and not to give it back in spite of thy Spanish manners."
Pyrrhus took the chain which Hippolyta gave him, and which she had brought expressly for this purpose that morning, and stopping his mouth with it, she got him out of the house. Then, free and disembarrassed from all restraint, she hastened to meet Periander, and, with a sort of easy gracefulness, she threw her arms about his neck, saying, "Truly glad shall I be to see whether Spaniards are as brave as fame reports."