OR

No. 107]

THE ASTROLOGER.

"I have already

Dealt with a friend of mine, a general scholar,

One deeply read in natnre's hidden secrets,
And, though with much unwillingness have won him
To do as much as art can, to resolve me
My fate that follows."

MASSINGER.

For the sake of those readers who may be curious as to dates and reigns, I regret exceedingly that I am unable to determine the precise period at which the events recorded in the following narrative took place. In truth, I suspect that the inditer of the legend whence I have derived my materials addressed himself to his work under a wholesome fear of some penal enactment against libels, for he had scrupulously abstained from mentioning either names or dates throughout the manuscript. Now, with regard to dates, Time is a very venerable personage, and, as I hope he will deal leniently with me, I will take no liberties with him; but, as I have long laboured under the disadvantage of wanting a name myself, I will not leave the hero of my story in a similar predicament; and therefore, in the absence of his real appellative, the reader must be content to know him by the style and title of Don Antonio Gonzalvo de Cordova.

Don Antonio was really as excellent a sort of fellow as a man might choose for his friend, or fair lady desire for her lover. He was generous and light-hearted, without being either profuse or profligate; high-spirited and courageous, but neither proud nor quarrelsome. Although he had a keen sense of the ridiculous, and was too genuine a disciple of wit to relish a jest the less because he happened to be the subject of it, he had too much good taste and good nature to sacrifice either delicacy, or the feelings of another, to the indulgence of his mirthful propensities. In respect of mental acquirements, he had a much larger share than, in ancient days, usually fell to the lot of those who were not required to live by their learning: and, as to accomplishments, he could sit a horse as closely as most persons; could coax some very sufferable music from the strings of his guitar; and, although his voice would scarcely have ensured him promotion at the opera, it was very endurable in a drawing-room or beneath a balcony. With regard to his person he was, as the great bard hath said, "a marvellous proper man," and had he been "at charges for a lookingglass," would have had little reason to be dissatisfied with his reflections. I cannot affirm that he was an Adonis or an Apollo, but, between his hat and his mother earth there were five feet eleven inches of as fair proportions as tailor might desire to take measure of. His counteuance was open, his forehead high and expanded, his eye bold and sparkling, and his hair such as nature bestows upon a man when she does not intend him to wear a wig-that is, it was neither red nor scanty; while his lip cherished a pair of mustachios, for which a modern life-guardsman would

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give a year's pay and his best charger. He had another qualification which procured for him especial favour in the eyes of all the mothers in Seville, whose daughters were marketable-marriageable I meant to say-he was rich. As to his manners, whether they would be deemed those of a man of fashion in the present day I am not competent to decide, because I never was at Almack's or Crockford's, but I know that he was voted rather gothic in Seville, because he hated bull-fights and auto-da-fés.

Antonio was returning from an entertainment which had been given by a nobleman of some note, accompanied by his friend Velasquez, when the latter remarked, "Antonio, I pray thee what Incubus sat upon thy spirits to-night? I never saw thee so flat before: what was there in the party to annoy you?”

"Its abominable dulness, Velasquez," was the reply; "I never was so tired of a thing in all my life. One would have thought the board was spread with poppies instead of viands, every body was so insufferably stupid."

"I thank you for my share of the compliment," said Velasquez, "but I think you had as little reason to complain as any of us. You sat, for the greater portion of the evening, by the side of one of the finest women in Seville, who hung upon every word you uttered, as if it were the breath of an oracle."

"Tush!" ejaculated Antonio.

"You appear to set little value on the lady's love, at any rate," pursued his friend.

"Nonsense!" said Antonio. "She love me! she never yet cared for any human being but herself. No, no, Velasquez, she loves the dirty acres that surround yonder castle of mine, far better than my living clay, depend upon it." "But I remember," rejoined Velasquez, "that you had once a different opinion of her."

"Perhaps I had," was the reply, "but it was before I found her out."

"And what, pray," enquired the other, "was your notable discovery?"

"That she went to bull-fights and auto-da-fés, and I would not marry a woman that could endure either of those barbarous exhibitions, though she were beautiful as an angel, and had the wealth of the Indies to her dower."

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Then, wherefore got you into such close conversation with her to-night?" asked Valasquez.

"To escape from that insufferable Don Ambrosio," was the answer.

"And what have you to say of him?" enquired the other. "Only that he is a great blockhead," said Antonio. "Granted," rejoined his friend, "but if nature thinks fit to make blockheads out of such flesh and blood as you and I are formed of, Antonio, it is, methinks, our duty to bear with them."

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'Always excepting a dignified one;" pursued Valasquez, "a fellow who has a lurking suspicion that he has no dignity belonging to him, and flies out in huge wrath whenever the conduct of those about him tends to confirm his misgivings. But, admitting Ambrosio to be a blockhead, and Jacintha a jilt, what say you to the fair Isabella, in the sunshine of whose beauty I saw you basking?"

"Sunshine you call it!" retorted Antonio, "credit me that if she have any of the sun's beams, she hath none of his warmth."

"Ho, ho! I have you there, Senor Antonio," exclaimed his friend with a laugh—" it is the coldness of the fair Isabella then to which we are indebted for the compliments whereof you have been so liberal. But tush, man, never droop a feather upon that score; a cavalier of your figure and pretensions should never despair of winning a lady's love, especially when there is no rival in your path.”

"I may have fifty rivals," said Antonia, "for aught I know, for she has a smile and a kind word for every body but myself."

"Has she? then take my word for it, the chances are fifty to one in your favour," continued Velasquez. "But tell me, Antonio, when did you declare yourself to the damsel ?"

"On Friday morning last, before mass," was the answer. "And, pray, what put it into your wise head to make love to a woman on a fast-day, of all others in the week? and in the morning too, before she had made up her mind as to the dress she should wear, as if you could reasonably expect her to decide upon your suit, before she had determined upon her own? But how did she receive your declaration ?" "She was mightily diverted at it, as if I had told her the most amusing story imaginable," said Antonio.

"Perhaps she thought you were jesting with her?" remarked Velasquez.

"Nay, she could not think that," rejoined the other: "besides, the more serious I became, the more she laughed, until, at last, I told her that, if she continued to scorn my suit, I would quit Spain for ever, and set sail for the Indies." "Well, and what said she to that?" was the enquiry. "She wished me a fair wind and a pleasant voyage," replied Antonio.

"In the full conviction," said Velasquez, "that you are not fool enough to undertake it."

"But she and you may find that I am serious," continued Antonio.

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You shall be right welcome Velasquez," responded his friend; "in the mean time, if I see you not again before I depart, adieu!"

"Adieu! then, Antonio, until to-morrow," said his volatile associate as they parted.

Antonio, had, however, it appeared, taken his disappointment more seriously to heart than his friend had anticipated; for it was ascertained that, within a few hours after the interview which I have just described, he had proceeded to the nearest sea-port, and embarked on board a vessel freighted for the Indies, having made such previous arrangements for the regulation of his affairs in Spain, as left his intention of ever returning a subject of considerable doubt.

Now, Donna Isabella, who had treated Antonio's announcement of his resolution to quit his native coutry as a mere ruse d'amour, was seriously troubled when she found that he was in earnest, and that, in all probability, she should never again see the man, who, if she had searched all Spain for a husband, would have been her choice. That she had never shewn him more unequivocal tokens of her regard arose from a feeling, somewhat overstrained perhaps, but natural to a high-minded and free-spirited woman, that indications of her preference for one of the wealthiest nobles in the kingdom might subject her motives to suspicion, especially as he had long been the mark at which the arts of so many prudent mothers, and the blandishments of their daughters, had been aimed. Isabella, too, began to set that additional value upon her lover, which we are all wont to attach to a treasure when we apprehend we have lost it beyond recall. But, when a report became current, and for which some corroborative circumstances obtained very general credit, that the vessel in which Antonio was known to have embarked had foundered at sea, she was overwhelmed by grief, and bitterly reproached herself with having been the cause of his exposure to so terrible a doom. Week after week passed away, but the fate of poor Antonio remained involved in the most distressing uncertainty.

About this time, there happened to be living in the vicinity of Seville, a venerable personage, a professor of astrology, who had been consulted, with miraculous success it appeared, by many who were desirous of becoming better acquainted with their own destiny or the affairs of their neighbours. In those days there was a very prevalent belief in judicial astrology, the professors of which were, perhaps, the more frequently and earnestly consulted, because the Holy Office was loud and fierce in its denunciations against both them and their clients.

Isabella, although a strong-minded woman in the main, was not altogether free from the superstition which characterized the age in which she lived; and, being unable to endure the torturing suspense in which the uncertainty of Antonio's fate had involved her, she eagerly caught at any thing which promised to throw a light upon the mystery, and accordingly resolved, at all hazards, to visit the sage, of whose abilities report spoke so highly.

Accompanied, therefore, by a Moorish boy, a sort of page, (alas! that there should be a dark page in the history of so fair a damsel!) she proceeded to the temple of the oracle, which was an apartment in an old castle that had long been tenantless and in ruins.

Almanza, for such, with the reader's leave, we will call the astrologer, was a very venerable-looking personage, with a cast of countenance which, in youth, had doubtless been handsome; but a long and perfectly white beard, descending almost to his chest, imparted to him an appearance of being older than in reality he was. He was habited in a gown of crimson silk, lined and faced with a dark fur, which the cold and cheerless apartment he occupied rendered quite as essential to his comfort, as it was in keeping with his character. He wore a velvet cap of the same colour as his gown, lined and faced in a similar manner, having a lappet on either side which covered his ears. He was seated in a large antique chair with a very high back. Before him, upon a table covered with a cloth of crimson damask, deeply fringed, was an open volume, with huge clasps, resting on a closed one. Materials for writing were also by his side. Behind him was a spacious fire-place,

among the principal carved work on which were figures of a death's head, while upon the shelf above was a bottle containing a serpent preserved in spirits. On his left hand, there was a celestial globe of considerable size, and, around it lay scattered in confusion ond disorder some ponderous folios. On the wall, upon the right hand, were traced the zodaical signs, with triangles and other astrological figures, describable only by the initiated. A slight expression of surprise, for a passing moment, disturbed the prevailing gravity of the sage's countenance at the entrance of his fair visitant, whom we will now do our best to portray to the reader.

She was above the ordinary stature of women, which, however, the perfect symmetry of her form, and the exquisite grace of her movements, rendered less remarkable than it would have been in one not so liberally endowed. Her face was somewhat rounder, perhaps, than consists with the Grecian idea of beauty; but he must have been a cold critic indeed, who did not find ample compensation for whatever it might want of regularity in the intellectual expression of her high and polished forehead, in the clear and delicate, but glowing tints of her soft cheek, and the light of those eyes whose irradiation appeared to be diffused over every feature. Her neck-I have heard of a lady's neck being compared to a swan's-it might as aptly have been likened to a camelopard's; and it is most strange that the author of such a comparison never blundered upon the similitude between a swan's neck and a goose's, or on the fact, that a woman with a neck almost half the length of her body would be about the most awkward-looking animal in nature. But all comparisons sink before it. The neck of a beautiful female is perfectly unique-there is nothing like it in creation. For her other charms you have a thousand hackneyed similes: you may typify her blushes by the rose or the tints of the morning; her eye by the gem that lights the mine; her lip by the coral, and her teeth by the pearl in the caves of the ocean; her forehead by the marble of Paros; and her glorious tresses by the clustering vine; but her neck is like nothing but itselfto quote with a slight alteration the words of the undying poet

"Nought but itself can be its parellel."

Her dress-O for the vocabulary of a man-milliner, that I might describe it in such orthodox language as to be intelligible to the fairer and dearer portion of my readers! Her slender waist was encircled by a boddice or deep stomacher, on which was gathered a skirt (how professional I have become already!) of white satin; a sort of epaulette or collar lay upon her shoulders, over which was disposed a shawl of very costly silk. Fastened to her hair, which was gathered into a knot on the crown of her head, was a lace veil of exquisite workmanship. Around her neck was a string of pearls of rare size and beauty, together with a chain composed of gold and precious stoncs, while a gem of extraordinary magnitude and brilliancy adorned her bosom.

The Moorish youth, who accompanied her, was arrayed, according to the custom of the day, in a suit of a very gay and fanciful kind. His vest was of silk, made very full about the hips, and surmounted by a velvet jacket. His hose were fitted tight to his legs, and tied, as were his shoes, with broad crimson ribands.

The seer, as I have stated, speedily recovered from the surprise, which the entrance of so imposing a visitor had excited, and, assuming a somewhat sardonic expression of countenance, he greeted her thus:

"Didst thou, in seeking my poor dwelling, expect to find it tenanted by a fiery dragon, or some devouring monster, who would make a meal of thee, that thou fearedst to venture hither without the protection of your ebony walking stick ? But, I pray thee, lady, if it be not asking too much of thy condescension, fling aside thy veil." The lady obeyed. "And now," continued the astrologer, "I beseech thee, propound to me what wouldst thou of Almanzor?" "Nay, most learned sir," said the lady, "I have little to hope from your skill, if it cannot readily help you to the purport of my visit, without the assistance of my tongue."

"My skill," retorted the sage with a sneer, "were indeed of no common order, if it were readier than a woman's tongue. But thy hand-let me see thy hand."

Isabella withdrew her right hand from the shoulder of her page, and presented it to the seer, who put it aside, saying: "Nay, lady, not that; it hath already been in too close contact with a minister of darkness. The other-your left hand!"

The maiden, in obeying, presented, to the astrologer's perusal, a fairer leaf than any he had yet scanned. She smiled, as he examined it, and said, "The professors of your art are wont to trace the future destiny of their clients by those lines, but they pretend not to discover present purposes and feelings by the same criterion."

"Woman !" said the astrologer, sternly, "dost thou presume to teach where thou art come to learn? I were indeed but a bungler in the noble mystery I profess, if I saw no deeper into this palm than the wandering pretender to the art, half mendicant and half liar, who besets your gates and will tell your fortune for a crust and a rial. It is easy to ascertain the tendency of the broad stream, but it is for the eye of wisdom alone to trace its under-currents."

"To the test then, learned sir, and propound to me my past and present feelings upon the subject on which I am here to consult you."

The professor raised his spectacles to his eyes, with his right hand,, on the little finger of which glittered a gem set in massive gold, while, with his left hand, he held the hand of the lady, and after a scrutinizing examination of it, he said:

"Tears of bitter, but late repentance, lady, have fallen upon this palm, but they have not effaced the characters in which I read of coldness and cruelty towards one who deserved better at thy hands."

While he was yet speaking he looked stedfastly at Isabella, who started in evident surprise and consciousness as she rejoined:

"That might be a shrewd guess of yours, but as I did not incur the peril of this visit to prove your skill, but to profit by it, it will readily occur to your wisdom that I shall scarcely be content with being told what, it may be, I already know too well. Does thy art give thee knowledge of the fate of the absent ?"

"There are means of obtaiuing that knowledge, lady," said the astrologer.

"I would enquire of thee, then," continued the maiden, "the fate of-"

"Hold, lady!" interrupted Almanzor, "remember there are three in presence, and to mention names is needless, and may scarcely be safe. You would know of him whom cruelty and despair have driven from the land and the home of his fathers, to wander in distant climes-"

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