He was earnestly conversing in a low voice with a lady near, whose face as she sat was slightly averted from the door; while Doña Beatriz and a third lady stood in the apartment, who, with the Archbishop and Don Gutierre, made up the whole party. Doña Beatriz had the full black eye and the raven tresses which we associate with a southern clime, and that brown shade of complexion which, but for the healthfulness of her tint, and the animation of her whole face, would scarcely have escaped the reproach of tending to sullenness of aspect. But of her, afterwards so celebrated by the name of Condesa de Moya, time had not yet touched the beauty. The lady, who stood by her side, Don Gutierre saluted as Doña Mencia de la Torre; and both of these ladies waited, with all the subdued respect of tone and deference of deportment due to the highest rank, upon the youthful incarnation of loveliness with whom the Archbishop conferred.
A low bodice or corset of black velvet, fitted closely to her waist, displayed the perfect proportions of a bust that was just blooming into womanhood. A brial or petticoat of the same rich material depended over the full, but well-formed and graceful contour of her limbs. This part of her dress was fastened at the waist by a kind of brocaded belt, embroidered with jet and brilliants, and a band of similar workmanship ran from the belt down the middle of the brial or skirt, and was continued in a border around the bottom of it; a border of the same general description running around the upper part of the bodice next to the neckerchief. The tight wristbands of the dress were adorned by several bands of corresponding make and materials. Above the bodice she wore a wrought kerchief of the costliest Flanders lace, fastened at the throat with a gold brooch, and having a border of very peculiar workmanship. It was narrow, as compared with the belt and bands of her brial, and instead of the wreaths and fanciful figures embroidered on them, it bore the form alternately of a castle and a lion, wrought in rich gems of various kinds on a silver ground, forming a splendid edging to the kerchief, double in front, and passing all around the neck. A large diamond cross, set in pearls, was suspended over her bosom from the rich pearl collar, which, as being the princely gift of him whose coming she awaited, was the fitting ornament of her person on this occasion. To complete her habiliments, a flowery tabard, as it was then called, or rich mantle of crimson silk, bordered with damask, was thrown over her shoulders and arms, hanging down to the floor, and a white veil of thin delicate lace, gauze-like and transparent as woven air, covered, without concealing, her dark brown tresses, and, being fastened in front by the brooch on her bosom, could be dropped over her face at will, so as to increase the effect of the beauty which it veiled, like the light fleecy clouds flitting along the moon's orb in a bright autumnal eve.
It is easy to give a description of garments, but how describe the surpassing loveliness of form and countenance, which consists, not in the peculiar shape of each separate feature or limb, but in the perfect harmony of parts, and heavenly combination of elements in the whole person? The lady of whom we speak was of middling stature, and rather fuller in form than might be considered consistent with a faultless model; but the grace of every movement, and the mingled sweetness and dignity of her whole manner, would alone have sufficed to mark the royal daughter of a line of kings. Her face was not of that stamp which fancy is prone to attribute to the maidens of Spain. We have already said that her hair was brown; and her complexion was pure blushing red and white, the unclouded carnation of the fairest youthful beauty. A broad, open brow, an oval face gently curving off into a rounded chin, even well-defined lips, expressing a firm character united with a gentle spirit, and eyes of dark gray deepening into blue; ojos entre verdes y azules, says a good friar of her day, who seems to have studied the constituents of beauty rather more attentively than became a monk: such were the separate features of the fair young maiden. Her general cast and look did not speak her more than eighteen; but a certain maturity of expression in her face, and a grave and somewhat devotional air, increased by the appearance of a richly illuminated missal, which she held in her hand, would have suited a much riper age.
To the low salutation of Don Gutierre, she graciously nodded in reply, without interrupting her conversation with the Archbishop. So earnestly, indeed, was it continued, that a young cavalier had entered the open door unobserved by her, and advanced towards the centre of the room. He stood with one foot slightly set forward, his short cloak, of the finest cloth of Segovia, flung back from his shoulders, displaying the close jacket of Genoese velvet, which covered his manly form, the gold-hilted sword which hung over his slashed underclothes, and a chain of massive chased gold links with a cross of Montesa suspended from his neck, while in his left hand he held a black velvet hat, ornamented with a plain diamond aigrette and a single tuft of white ostrich plumes, leaving uncovered a high, noble brow and expressive dignified features, with sparkling eyes, that gazed on the beautiful vision before them, entranced, as it were, with love and admiration.
"'Tis he, 'tis he!" cried Don Gutierre, pointing with his finger to the silent stranger; and as the lady started with a slight exclamation of surprise, Fernando de Aragon kneeled at her feet, and, seizing her not unwilling hand, covered it with the kisses of her accepted lover, whom she now, for the first time, saw, and that in secrecy and disguise.
Need we say that the lady was Isabel of Castile, the lovely and the loved, the model of queens, of wives, and of mothers; the unaffected reality of all that her false-hearted namesake of England, Elizabeth, affected to be, but was not, a woman, namely, with all a woman's sensibilities, and yet a great and high ruled princess; that Isabel, whose reign is the golden age of prosperity and glory in the annals of fallen Spain!
At the time when the events of our story happened, Henry the Imbecile held the sceptre of Castile and Leon, and the disorders of a sickly state had reached their acme. Don Henrique ascended the throne under circumstances the most inauspicious. The kingdom was devastated and exhausted by the long and bloody civil wars which preceded the accession of his ancestor, Henrique de Trastamara. The infirm health and premature death of his grandfather, Henry III., prevented his applying those remedies to the public relief which a capacious mind and enterprising spirit might otherwise have devised and undertaken. His predecessor, Don Juan, destitute of either energy or talents to govern his turbulent nobles, was equally degraded, in being at all times either their tool or their victim. Condemned to see them dispute the possession of his person and his power on the fatal plains of Olmedo, he resigned all his authority to the constable, Don Alvaro de Luna, and afterwards with still greater weakness gave up his tried and faithful minister to the fury of their common enemies. Don Henrique himself inherited the mean-spirited and servile character of Don Juan.
Wavering and pusillanimous in his purposes, despised by his vassals, corrupt in his habits, and given up to the pursuit of pleasures of which nature had denied him the enjoyment, he soon acquired a most invincible repugnance to business of whatever kind, which he gladly suffered to pass entirely into the hands of ambitious and unprincipled favorites. A never-ending succession of troubles in his family, and of civil war between contending factions of the aristocracy, was the necessary consequence of the weakness of their common head. So long as he could enjoy his personal amusement unmolested, no public calumny moved the impassiveness of his indolence. While the profligate court spent in tournaments and gallantry, or in the wild distractions of the chase, that time which belonged to the necessities of the state, the fierce grandees made civil war upon each other from province to province, dividing, with impunity, the spoils of the crown and the substance of the people. Corruption, venality, and violence became universal; and the whole kingdom, convulsed by every species of disorder, and infected with all the principles of dissolution, was hurrying onward towards absolute and irretrievable ruin.
But that we may fully appreciate the condition of unhappy Castile at this period, it is well to refer to the touching pictures given by the old chroniclers, not merely of the general aspect of things, but also of some remarkable incidents in particular.
"All Spain was overwhelmed," says Don Alonzo Ortiz, who spoke of what he actually saw; "all Spain was overwhelmed by the most terrible storm, in those days when the flames of civil war raged with the greatest fury, and total perdition impended over the prostrate commonwealth. There was no spot exempt from the common misery. There was no man who enjoyed his patrimony without fear or peril of his life. All classes of the community were filled with affliction, flying to the cities for refuge, since robbery and murder stalked unchallenged through the land. Our barons did not take up arms to defend our borders against the Infidel, but to strike the thirsty sword into the bowels of their common country. The domestic enemy banqueted in the blood of his fellow-citizens. The strongest of arm and deepest in fraud bore the palm of power and praise among us; so that all things had broken wholly forth from the check and scope of justice, and the venerable majesty of the law had quenched its light in the darkness of general corruption."