The ship came up to the town, and they went on shore at Belén, for Auristella wished to visit the holy monastery first, having heard of its fame. She desired devoutly to adore there, the only true God, freely and unembarrassed by the distorted ceremonies of her own land. Crowds of people came down to the shore to see the strangers disembark at Belén. They all ran thither full of curiosity to see the novel sight.
The phalanx of beauty had already left Belén; Ricla was only moderately well looking, but her strange garb became her extremely: Constance looked charming in her dress of skins; the elder Antonio in his wolf skin, with bare legs and arms; his son in a similar array, only that he carried his bow in his hand, and his quiver full of arrows was hung at his shoulder. Periander was dressed in a green velvet tunic, and trousers of the same, like a mariner; on his head he wore a high pointed cap, which could not conceal the bright ringlets of golden hair which escaped beneath it. Auristella was arrayed in the richest and most superb attire, according to the fashion of the north, displaying all that can be imagined most lovely in features, most graceful in form; altogether they created an immense sensation of wonder and admiration; but the graces of Periander and Auristella excelled all the rest.
They went to Lisbon by land, followed by crowds of people of all ranks; they were taken to the governor, who, after having looked at them with admiration, was never weary of asking, "Who they were, whence they came, and whither they were going?" to all which Periander answered, for he had already got his answer ready prepared for similar questions, as many such were to be expected; and so, when he liked or when it seemed advisable to do so, he told his history at length, but always concealing his parentage, so that he satisfied all questions, giving them, if not the whole, at least a great part of his history in a few words.
The viceroy gave orders that they should be lodged in one of the best suites of apartments in the city, which happened to be in the house of a great Portuguese nobleman; so many persons flocked thither in order to look at Auristella and her companions, (the fame of their beauty having got abroad,) that Periander was of opinion it would be better for the barbarians to change their dress for that of pilgrims, as he thought the novelty and strangeness of the garb they wore, was the chief cause of their being so much followed, and even persecuted by the vulgar crowd, and the other would be very much to the purpose of their intended journey to Rome. They all agreed to do as he proposed, and in two or three days the whole party was curiously pilgrimized.
It happened one day as he was going out of the house, that a Portuguese fell at Periander's feet: calling him by his name, and embracing his knees, he cried, "By what good fortune, my lord Periander, do I see you here? Be not surprised that I call you by your name, for I am one of the twenty who were set at liberty in the conflagration of the barbarous isle, where you also was a prisoner. I was present at the death of Manuel de Souza Coutiño, the Portuguese gentleman; I partook with you and yours of the shelter of the inn, at the time when Maurice and Ladislaus arrived in search of Transila, the wife of one, and daughter of the other; my good fortune brought me home to my own country, where I told the story of the poor lover's death, to his relations, and they would have believed me, even if I had not seen it with my own eyes: it is a not uncommon thing for the Portuguese to die of love. A brother who inherited his property had his obsequies performed; and in a chapel belonging to his family he had a tomb of white marble erected, as if he was buried beneath, and thereon an epitaph, which I hope you will all come and see, for I think you will be pleased with it."
Periander knew well by all he said that the man spoke the truth, although he could not recollect ever having seen his face; however, they went to the church of which he spoke, and saw the chapel and the tomb, upon which was engraven in the Portuguese language this epitaph, which, read by Antonio the father, in Castilian, ran thus:—
To the Memory of the deceased
MANUEL DE SOUZA COUTIÑO,
A PORTUGUESE GENTLEMAN,
Who, had he not been Portuguese, might still be living.
He died, not by any Castilian hand, but
by that of all powerful Love.