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cognised at once that it was he who Then Tuzani, no longer able to was the assassin of the beautiful Ma- restrain himself, cried out—"Tell me, leca. Every expression that issued O soldier! destitute of honour or of from his mouth in praise of her beau- courage, why did you kill one so ty, went like a dagger to his heart, beautiful ? Know that this Moorish and he suffered so much from listening maiden was my only delight; that to the mournful tragedy, that his pale- she was my betrothed, and that your ness became so excessive as to be no- cruelty has deprived me of all my ticed by the soldiers. Making some hopes of happiness. It is to revenge excuse, he asked the soldier whether her that I have come hither; so draw he still retained any of the jewels which your sword, and defend yourself. We the Moor had worn. “Nothing re- shall soon see whether you will kill mains,” said he, “but a pair of ear- me as you killed her, thus triumphing rings, and another of gold, which I over two lives." took from her finger ; I sold all the Having said these words, Tuzani rest in Baza for want of money, and I commenced a furious attack upon the will sell them now to any one who de- soldier, who, though somewhat sursires them very willingly, in order to prised, did not lose his courage, but try, my fortune at the gaming-table opposed Tuzani with all the daring of with the price." "I will purchase a lion, and thus the combat continued them," said Tuzani, “if we can come for some time. But Tuzani, who, to an agreement, and I will bring besides being very valiant, was parthem to Velezel Blanco, and show ticularly well skilled in the managethem to a sister of the deceased who ment of the sword, grievously wounded is there in the service of the marquis.” his adversary, saying, at the same “Come with me, then, to the mess- time, “ Take, wretch, the just reward room," said the other, “and you can of thy barbarity. It is Maleca that see them, and buy them, if you are so sends it to you—she whom you

slew disposed." Saying this, the soldier without any cause. and Tuzani withdrew, and on coming The soldier fell, mortally wounded, to the mess-room, the former drew and the revengeful Moor plunged his from a bag the ear-rings and the finger- sword a second time into his body, ring, which Tuzani at once recognised saying, “With two wounds you slew as having often seen in the possession my adored mistress, and with two of Maleca, at which he could not re- wounds you yourself must die.” Then strain his most bitter sighs and tears. replacing his sword in its scabbard, Checking them, however, he pur- he withdrew into the mountains, and chased the rings from the soldier, did not return into Andarax until and having placed them in his bosom, night. he proposed to him to pass a little out Tuzani being at length betrayed, of Andarax. Having reached some and delivered to Don John, asked this distance from the village, Tuzani, see- prince why he was arrested. But ing that the hour of his revenge had seeing that all was discovered, he come, said to the soldier, “If I show wished to deny nothing. you the portrait of that Moor whom “I am,” said he, " a native of Finis, you slew, will you recognise her?” a village between Cantoria and Pur"I have no doubt that I will,” said chena. I am a Moorish cavalier, and the soldier, “for so firmly are her my name is Tuzani. I have assumed features impressed upon my memory, this disguise in order to kill a wretch, that it does not appear an hour since who, in the assault of Galera, slew I killed her.” Tuzani then putting my mistress, who was the most beau. his hand into his breast, drew from tiful being on earth, when he could the lining of his doubtlet a piece of have made her his prisoner. I swore parchment, rolled carefully up, which that I would seek him, and that I contained the picture. Presenting it would kill him; and I did seek him, to the soldier, he said, “ Is this, per- and did kill him, two days ago. Such chance, the face of the beautiful Ma- is the truth ; let your highness do leca ?"' The soldier throwing his eyes with me as you please. If I die, I upon it, and being astonished at its will die content, because I have re. wonderful resemblance, exclaimed, “It venged my mistress, which was my is she, without doubt, and I tremble only desire. I hope in the goodness at beholding her."

of God that I will see her after my death, and that she will not have to “ This soldier is very well justified complain that I left her unavenged. in what he has done ; he has done I will die a Christian, and I know nothing for which he should suffer that she was a Christian also; for it death.

And if your highness will was agreed that I should take her liberate and restore him his arms, I away, and marry her in Murcia, when will be happy to take him into my we would wait the termination of the own company; for I vow to God, if war. It was for this reason that she any one killed my mistress, I would asked leave from her father to visit not only kill the villain himself, but Galera, under the pretence of seeing his whole lineage.” her relatives. Fate, however, ordered The prince, to satisfy Don Lope it otherwise. Galera was taken-my and the other officers, ordered the mistress was slain. I found her dead. Moor to be liberated, and his arms to With pious tears I laid her in the be restored. ground. Upon her tomb I wrote the “Come, my friend,” said Don Lope, short tale of her love and my sorrow. “ enrol yourself under my standard. I came to revenge her, and I have I love to see such soldiers as you are, kept my vow. Now that you have there; and in order that you may arrested me, I will die content, since serve me more willingly, I will take I die by the orders of so illustrious care of this picture of your mistress, a prince. I have only to implore one and get it framed, in order that it favour of you. Preserve the portrait may be saved from any danger of of my mistress, lest it should fall into being injured." hands that would be unworthy to “I know well,” replied Tuzani, touch it. Take, also, these jewels ; “O hero of your age! that you will they have little intrinsic value, but be henceforward the master of my forthey belonged to her, and they are tune, good or bad ; but it seems that therefore priceless."

Having thus I lose my mistress a second time. I spoken, without his countenance will serve you faithfully as a good changing in the slightest degree, he and loyal soldier, if the loss of this bent his knee respectfully before the picture will not precipitate my death." prince, and presented him with the Don Lope, how knew how impos. portrait, and the jewels of Maleca. sible it was to combat a notion of that

His highness, wondering at the kind, and fearing that the loss of the calmness with which Tuzani had re- portrait would cause the soldier a lated his history, and pitying his evil fatal melancholy-"Here," said he, fortune, approached him, and received “preserve your consolation, and rethe portrait and the jewels from his main near me, I am sure of having in hands. In delivering them up, Tuzani you a valiant friend." heaved a profound sigh, as if, in sur- Then Tuzani assumed the name of rendering these memorials of his mis- Ferdinand de Figueroa, and attached tress, he surrendered herself and his himself altogether to the service of heart along with her. Don John Don Lope, and was with him at the examined the portrait, and was as- battle of Lepanto, and in all his other tonished at the beauty of Maleca, as engagements." well as the other cavaliers who sur. Such is the story on which the rounded him, who all said that Tuzani principal interest of this play of Cal. had acted like a brave soldier and a deron's (Amar despues de la Muerte) true cavalier, in revenging the death depends. There is an under plot of so beautiful a lady:

which is less interesting, as well as Don Lope, considering the valour some comic scenes, both of which we of Tuzani, raised him up, and after have avoided in our specimens, as intwo or three oaths, said to the prince, terfering with the effect of Maleca

In the “Guerras Civiles de Granada," the adventures of Tuzani are scattered over a great many pages, in the twenty-second and twenty-fourth chapters of that work. We have availed ourselves principally of the abridgment given by M. Damas Hinard, in his “ Theatre Espagnol," Calderon, Second Série, but always with a constant reference to the original, introducing from it whatever appeared to add to the picturesqueness of the narrative. Of those additions, the Romance which we have translated, and the Epitaph, are the principal.

and Tuzani's history. It would be unjust to Calderon not to mention the sympathy and toleration which he expresses throughout the play for the persecuted Moors.

This generosity (says his French translator) is not confined to him ; it is common to the Spanish dramatists generally, and is not only creditable to the character of these poets, but to the national character of their country itself.


MALECA. [The scene represents a beautiful mountain

district. On the side of a gentle hill are seated Don FERNANDO VALOR (ABENHUMEYA) and Donna ISABEL TUZANI (LIDORA). A crowd of Moors and musicians are seen at a little distance.]

Aben.--Here amid these fragrant bowers,
Twined of thyme and mountain heather,
Where the Spring has called together
The rich Cortez of her flowers-
Where the ground is overstrown
With emerald leaves and buds of gold,
And our ravished eyes behold
The queenly Rose ascend her throne
Here, Lidora, thou canst rest-
My beauteous spouse-a tranquil hour,
While, perchance, sweet music's power
May charm the sadness from your breast.

Lid.-Ah! my valiant lord, no narrow
Fame for thee is Fate bestowing,
Not alone for thee are growing
Victor oaks in Alpujarra ;
The laurel, too, shall bloom for thee-
The sacred tree that loves the plain-
When the wail of conquered Spain
Shall proclaim thy victory.
No, my lord ; 'tis not disdain
Of your grandeur, your affection,
Makes me feel the deep dejection
Weighing on my heart and brain ;
'Tis the price at which we buy
Joy's divine but fleeting treasure-
Never comes the light of pleasure
But the shade of grief is nigh :
This alone, my lord, believe me,
Is my secret cause of anguish-
'Tis for this alone I languish-
'Tis for this alone I grieve me.
Thus changeful Fate with power malign
Wounds and heals my doubting breast
I must be sad for being blest,
And must be blest for being thine.

Aben.-If such a cause as this control thee,
And thou art sad from too much gladness,
I, too, must feel a joyful sadness
That I never can console thee.
Never can this grief decay,
Ne'er can cease this sweet dejection,
Since your power and my affection
Must be greater every day.

But sing, sing, in notes of gladness,
Sing the beauty of my bride,
Ever have been close allied
Music and such happy sadness.

The musicians sing.
There is little need to say
Whose thou art, sweet joy divine,
Since 'tis plain thou must be mine
By the shortness of thy stay.
[MALEC enters and advances to speak to

ABENHUEYMA. TUZANI (Don AlvaRO) and MALECA (DONNA CLARA) appear in the Moorish costume at opposite sides of the stage, and remain

there without advancing. Maleca.—" There is little need to say Whose thou art, sweet joy divine— [aside.

Tuz.—"Since 'tis plain thou must be mine By the shortness of thy stay." [The instruments continue to play during

the remainder of this scene. Maleca.- What a strange and mournful

feeling Has this song awakened now !

Tuz.–At this voice, I know not how, Terror through my breast is stealing! Maleca.—When to treat about my mar

riage, Hither came my lord and father

Tuz.— When I hoped Love's fruits to

gather, After many a sore miscarriage. Maleca.-Ah! my joy-the sweet notes

sayTuz.-Ah! my hope, this fate is thine-

[Both sing with the musicians. Yes, 'tis plain thou must be mine By the shortness of thy stay.

Malec.—Since, my lord, the light of Love Shineth through the smoke of MarsAs the light of evening stars Through the passing clouds aboveI have come to tell to thee, That to-day I wed my daughter. Aben.-Of the many that have sought

her, Who is then the favoured he?

Malec.—Tuzani, Lidora's brother.

Aben.—Ah! thou hast selected duly
Since I know how long and truly
They have been faithful to each other.
For them Love shines not dark or dim,
Nor yet a doubtful fate doth give-
He without her can never live,
And she must perish without him.
Where are they both ?

[TUZANI and MALECA approach. Maleca.

Behold me here,
Glad at thy feet.

And I am thus
Proud, that you stretch your hand to us.
Aben.-Come, let my arms embrace ye

near; And since the sacred Alcoran (Beneath whose law we all unite) Prescribes alone this marriage rite, That to the woman, by the man,

berish or broken Spanish, that principally constitutes the humour of his character, announces the advance of the Spanish forces. ABEXHUEYMA orders the Moorish captains to their several posts—MALEC to Galera, Tuzani to Gabia ; he himself remaining at Berja. By degrees all leare

the stage, except MALECA and Tczani.] Maleca.—Ah, there's little need to say Whose thou art, sweet joy divine !

Tuz.-Since 'tis plain thou must be mine, By the shortness of thy stay!

Maleca. Joys, alas ! too early doomed, Dying ere their birth was known.

Tuz.-Roses plucked ere they were blown, Sweet flowers wither'd ere they bloomed.

Maleca.—So enfeebled, so prostratel,
That a breath has laid you low.

What thou art my heart doth

know; Vain my lips aloud should state it.

Some bridal gifts presented be,
Thus, Tuzani, some gifts of thine
Give to Maléca, the divine.

Tuz.-Ah! they are all too poor for thee;
For thou art such a peerless one-
Brightest of all that brightest be-
That to give diamonds into thee
Is to give light unto the sun.
Here is a Cupid all complete.
Arm'd with his bow and arrows keen,
And yet the conquered god is seen
To kneel submissive at thy feet.
Ilere is a string of pearls, to twine
Around thy beauteous neck of snow-
Tears of the Dawn, which yet must flow
To find her face outshone by thine.
Here is an eagle fair to see,
Of emerald green-hope's favourite hue-
That bird alone that dares to view
The unclouded sun, will gaze on thee.
This ruby chain perchance thou'lt wear
Amid thy tresses dark and smooth-
I need it not; my chains, in sooth,
Are thy sweet smiles and curling hair.
And these memorials may--but no,
I cannot ask so cold a lot-
If thy own heart recall me not
To these, that bliss I would not owe.

Maleca.–Tuzani, these gifts I take,
And, grateful for thy love, I vow
To prize them all my life, as now,
And keep and wear them for thy sake.

Lid. And I congratulate you both
Upon the happy vows you've plighted.
Malec.Come, let their hands be now

The sweet reward of hearts not loth.

Tuz.-Ah! dearest, at thy feet I lie-
Maleca.- Nay, let my arms henceforward

A lasting chain for love and thee.

Tuz.-And I am blest!

And so am I !
[At the moment that their hands meet, a

sound of drums is heard, at which there is an universal exclamation of

surprise.] Malec.No Moorish tabours give the

sound, The startling sound that hither comes; No! 'tis the beat of Spanish drums That thunders through the mountains round.

Tuz.--Alas! this sound forebodeth woe.

Aben.-Stop the bridal till we see What this novelty may be. Tuz.--My lord, and hast thou yet to

know That there can be nothing newer, Nothing stranger now than this That my heart can feel a bliss Ever fated to endure ? Scarcely on my heart and lips Hope's bright sun outbeams again, When the dusky arms of Spain Ilides its light in dark eclipse ! [Alcuzcuz (the Gracioso of the play)

here enters, and in the peculiar gib

After some more passionate exclamations of this kind, and lamentations on the fate that divided them at the very moment of their betrothment, the lovers are obliged to separate. Tuzani promising, as the distance was only two leagues, to come every night from Gabia, where he was stationed, to Galera, where Maleca remained, on a visit to his affianced bride.

THE DEATH OF MALECA. [Scene, Galera. TUZANI enters.] Tuz.-Through these flames that rise

like mountains,
Through this sea of blood advancing,
Treading upon prostrate corses ;
Fondest love has led me hither,
To the house or my Maleca.
Ah! I find it torn and shatter'd),
Victim of a double ruin-
Fire and sword have fallen upon it!
But, my bride, my bride, where art thoa ?
If thou’rt lost, let sorrow make me
Quick to die, as slow to aid thee.
Where art thou, my loved Maleca ?
Ah, my eyes discover nothing !

Maleca (within).--Alas! alas!

These mournful
Which the wind around me scatters-
Sad complaints obscurely spoken,
Bitter sighs, too well repeated,
Pierce my breast like lightning flashes
Ah! was ever such affliction ?
By the glimmering light arising
From the half-expiring embers,
I behold a woman lying
With her blood the fire allaying.
Ah! it is--it is Maleca-
O sacred heavens! bestow, in pity,
Life on her, or death on me.

[He enters, and returns with MALECA

in his arms. Her hair hangs loosely about her, the blood flows from her

wound, and she is but half dressed.]
Maleca.—Spanish soldier, in whose boscm
Cruelty nor pity dwelleth-
Pity, since thy hand has struck me-
Cruelty, since death still tarries
Plunge again thy murderous weapon
In my breast—'twill be less cruel
Than to leave me thus suspended
'Twixt your cruelty and pity.

Tuz.–Fair but most unhappy being !
Thou, a goddess in thy beauty,
Thou, a mortal in thy griefs,
Since divinest natures ever
Taste of earthly pangs as well —
He who in his arms doth hold thee,
Does not seek to take thy life.
Ah, to save that life he'd rather
Lose his own a thousand times.

Maleca.—By these accents I discover
That thou art of Moorish blood.
If my sex, my sorrow move thee
With a double power to pity-
Grant one favour for the two.
In Gabia is Alcaide,
Tuzani, my dearest husband;
Thither hasten thou to seek him—
And this last embrace I give thee,
Bear him faithfully from me;
Tell him that his bride, Maleca,
Bathed and weltering in her blood,
By a Spaniard's hand outpoured ;
By a Spaniard, more ambitious
Of her jewels than of honour,
Died this day in lost Galera.
Tuz.-The embrace which thou hast

given me, It is needless that I carry To your husband; for, alas! End of all his dreams and rapture ! He himself is here to take it. Maleca.--Ah! this voice so well remem

bered Voice of one so dearly lovedSends new breath into my bosom, Makes my death supremely happy. Let me once again embrace theeLet me die within thy arms. [Dies.

Tuz.-Oh, how much that man betrayed

That the fairest flową has perished,
That the sweetest breath has failed ?
Men, who've known love's sacred feeling,
Aid me in this deep affliction.
Tell me, in this hour of woe,
What is he to do, the lover,
Who, the night he comes to visit
His adored, espoused lady,
Hoping to receive the guerdon
Of his long and faithful love,
Finds her in her young blood lying?
Sweetest lily ever pictured
On a perilous enamel !
Purest gold that ever brightened
In the crucible of grief! -
What ought he to do, the mourner,
Who his bridal-bed beholdeth
Changed into a mournful tomb,
And the goddess he expected
Lying there a pallid corse ?
But no, no—you will not answer;
Aid nor counsel will you give.
If grief, in such a dire misfortune,
Will not prompt a man aright,
Vain is all advice or counsel.
O mountain of the Alpujarra !
O theatre of coward slaughter!--
Scene of the most vile transaction-
Field of the most shameful conquest,
And the most degraded glory-
Never, never have your mountains,
Never, never have your valleys,
Seen, amid your pointed summits-
Seen, along your flowery margins
One so fair and so unhappy!
But of what avails complaining,
What avails my lamentation,
If 'tis lost in idle air?


and Moors.
Aben.—Though, with tongues of fire,

Called us from afar to aid her,
We have come too late.

In ashes
See her squares, and streets, and buildings,
And the red flames pyramidal
Seem to rise unto the stars.

Tuz.-Do not wonder—do not tremble
That your steps have been too tardy-
I myself have come too late !
Aben.-Oh! what words of mournful

Lid.-Oh! what terror is impending?
Aben.- What is this?

It is the greatest
Pain, it is the deepest sorrow.
The calamity most cruel,
The misfortune most profound.
'Tis to see expire before you,
In a way so sad and mournful,
Her you love. Ah! this in truth
Is all sorrows in one sorrow-
Is the summit of misfortune-
Is the grief of every grief.
My Maleca (ah! my sorrow,
How canst thou proclaim the tidings ?)—


Ignorance of human nature ;
He who said that love doth ever
Blend two separate lives in one!
If such miracles were real,
Neither I would now be living,
Nor wouldst thou be lying dead.
Since, indeed, this very moment,
Thou by living, I by dying,
Were our destinies alike!
Ileavens, that witness my affliction,
Mountains, that behold my anguish,
Birds, that hear my sad complainings,
Flames, that see my bosom's sorrow,
Why, oh! why have ye permitted
That the brightest light is darkened-

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