Written for the Casket. LOS MUSICOS: OR, THE SPANISH EXQUISITE. She is a woraan; therefore to be won. SHAKSPEARE. The passion of love has been designated the universal tyrant, the absolute autocrat to whom (keeping up the personification) all hearts have bowed and given in their allegiance. Love, when seated on the throne of beauty, is irresistible, and his power is almost unbounded. He not only sets foreign opposition at defiance, and storms the castle of feudal aristocracy, but he breaks down, with a giant arm, the bulwarks of birth and the battlements which fortune has reared to oppose his approach. Whether love is voluntary or involuntary, has long been a subject for debate among those who are in the morning of life, and who delight in its luxuries. Sometimes it steals upon its victim without giving a warning, and that victim finds himself unhappy without knowing the cause, and hence it is called involuntary. But then he certainly knew that he had opened his heart to a growing partiality for the object-here, then, it becomes voluntary. There is no nation on the globe, with the single exception of the children of of Italy, so susceptible of love as the Spanish. Like the Italians, love seems to be the he grand dream of their lives, and like them, too, they are given to jealousy, with all its attendant horrors. Pedantry, in a variety of forms, and connected with the tender passion, is often found among the Spanish dandies; one of which I shall now relate the story of, as perspicuously as my memory serves. Don Juan Alvares was a native of Seville, a city of ancient date, the capitol of Andalusia, situated near the river Guadalquiver, of a round form, and one of the richest and most imposing and important of all Spain. It is a common saying with the Spaniards, Quen no ba visto Sevilla, no ba visto maravilla: that is he who has not seen [1833. Seville has not seen a wonder. Don Juan Alvares was descended from an ancient aristocratic branch of the nobility, a remnant of feudal barbarity and Gothic grandeur, whose fortunes had fallen beneath the rubbish and ruins of a hundred revolutions. The most celebrated branch of Don Juan's family, and the one which he prided himself the most upon, belonged to the court of Ferdinand and Isabella, at the time Christopher Columbus immortalized his own fame and the ingratitude of Spain. Don Juan never spoke of his ancestry later than that period, though the Inquisition had immortalized many whose histories were written in blood by the Duke of Alvar. His father and grandsire were both musicians, and their art descended to Don Juan, in whom it perhaps found as conceited a votary as ever thumped upon a guitar. He was a complete pedant in music, for in him all the extravagant, though not unmeaning, fables of Orpheus, were revived; and though he did not believe that he could make stones and trees dance to his music, yet he was convinced that no lady, however beautiful, accomplished, and exalted by birth, could listen to his guitar without feeling in her heart an involuntary passion for the player. So much was he deceived by this notion, that he often found himself involved in ridiculous difficulties, from which the sublime art could not extricate him. Don Juan in appearance might be called a handsome man, though he was a musical pedant, a lady's man, a male coquette, and His sole delight seemed to be in experimenting on the hearts of the ladies, by means of the exquisite music of his guitar; and though they showed no emotion, he always imagined that every one before whom he played was necessarily in love with him. Every look, every smile, and even every frown, to him was the evidence that the grand passion had taken possession of his object's heart. Don Juan was often invited to the Alcazar, the palace of Seville, built by the Moors; where, in his own opinion, he did a flirt of the first water. mighty execution on the hearts of the noble damsels who listened to the magic of his guitar. Many of the noble donnas smiled upon the exertions of the musical pedant, and he went away tickled with the consciousness of having won at least a dozen hearts. Among the dozen, and one that most flattered the vanity of Don Juan, was the Countess Isabella Donzella de Bertrandi, a lady of the most exquisite accomplishments, and whose very look spoke the language of love, captivating all hearts. Though the Countess was not a perfect beauty, as respects form and feautures, yet there was an archness in her manner, a cunningness in her eye, and a something-a je ne sais quoi-in the cast of her countenance which was absolutely irresistible. The countess had the character of a most egregious coquette, a character of all others that finds least favour in the eyes of men. But Don Juan had the same quality himself, and why should he complain of it in another? He did not, but waylaid and watched the countess day and night, with the view of procuring an interview and of perfecting the conquest which he positively believed he had partially achieved over her affections. In the suburb of Seville, on the opposite side of the river, are public walks, where the citizens take the air, and it was there Don Juan went as a likely place to meet the countess. It was a beautiful evening in July that our musical hero, with his guitar, was seen wending his way over the bridge of boats that formed the passage across the Guadalquiver. He was pacing slowly by that den of ecclesiastical tyranny, the Inquisition, and musing upon the charms of the glorious conquest he had made, when suddenly sence of the Countess but twice, once at the Alcazar and once at the Cathedral, was deeply and devotedly in love with her, and had no doubt but that she entertained the same passion for him. I have said that the Countess was a coquette, and as it is the delight of the Spanish demoiselles, she now played with the heart of Don Juan as a cat plays with a mouse, constantly bestowing caresses which bore the semblance of a real regard, yet having their origin in feelings far different. She pressed him to play on the guitar, and then quizzingly smiled on, and commended his performance, declaring him to be the perfect master of that favourite Spanish instrument, the guitar; which Don Juan swallowed at one gulp, as a precious and pure panegyric, and not as it really was intended to be, gross flattery. The Spanish have a smooth way of feeding the vanity of the superficial and pedantic, and never was musical pedant so completely dosed to his heart's content, as was Don Juan on this occasion. The Countess Isabella Donzella would have her lover to play also on the flute in concert with Don Juan, that she might lengthen out her enjoyment, and add to the pleasure of her coquettish heart, by playing with the feelings and affections of the man who stood before her enraptured with her charms, and sighing for an opportunity to disclose his passion. A great writer has observed-Dr. Johnson, if my memory serves me right-that we should never trifle with or hold in contempt the meanest of our fellow creatures; that there is not one εο mean but that has some good quality, and may in the course of changing fortunes, or in some the Countess, resting on the arm of an acknow-casual situation, be absolutely necessary in ren ledged suitor, brushed along by him. Suddenly Don Juan touched the guitar to the tune she had praised at the Alcazar, and saw with delight that she paid his compliment with a bow and a smile, which was half ridicule, though he imagined it all love. Don Juan silently followed, and gazed upon that moving form which had taken full possession of his soul. They had not proceeded far ere he saw the countess fold up her loose evening robe and seat herself beneath a venerable tree, her attendant also taking a seat beside her. Now is the appointed time, thought Don Juan, and advanced rapidly to the spot. It is here necessary to mention that he who attended the countess, was, according to rumour, the intended husband, though she had been some time a novice in the Convent of St. Francis, preparatory to the supposed intention of taking the black veil. Don Alonzo Gonzales was not so handsome as Don Juan, but he was reported to be vastly rich; and riches cover a multitude of sins. His wealth, therefore, was put in balance against the Countess Isabella Donzella's nobility, which is by no means a new invention. Whoever has visited Seville, will know that the Convent of St. Francis is one of the handsomest and most curious in Spain, having a large public square with a beautiful fountain in the middle, and wonderfully calculated for the intrigues of love-the delight of the dark eved damsels of Spain. But to business. dering assistance. This aphorism, as a postulate, proved true in the future eventful lives of the Countess labella Donzella and Don Juan Alvares. But it is unwise to anticipate future events, and therefore let us proceed with the present disposition of our luckless wight and his fair dulcinea. The lady showed every symptom of love, though all was counterfeit; and Don Juan looked unutterably tender on the bosom which he supposed throbbed alone for him, with an all-absorbing and unextinguishable passion. The countess was determined to humour our musical exquisite; for she knew she would not confer more pleasure on him than she would feel herself, in thus trying the extent of the power of her charms, and in ministering to her own coquettish vanity. She therefore resolved to give him an opportunity of declaring his passion; and as she rose to return, and while the attention of her acknowledged lover was attracted by a flower. she whispered in the ear of Don Juan, that she would be happy to see him the next evening in the retired grotto of the convent, at the same time giving him a real coquette's smile, which he mistook for a genuine one from the mould of cupid. Don Juan was near fainting with joy; but recovering, he gave her one of his most tender looks, and bowed in acquiescence to her request. Don Juan, after following in sight of the countess to the bridge, and having seen her across in safety, parted with the object of his soul's most Don Juan, though he had been in the pre-delicious dreams, and hastened to his humble THE SPANISH EXQUISITE. abode to ruminate on the past and muse on the anticipated hour of bliss. Some of my fair readers may feel a glow of indignation rise on the cheek, at the reckless manner in which the Countess Isabella Donzella appointed an assignation with our musical hero; but then our modest ladies, perhaps more modest than those of any other country, must be informed that the donnas of Spain, the demoiselles of France, and the beautiful signoras of Italy, all have their own way of doing things, and that their heads do not stop at trifles when their hearts are full of love. But heaven forfend that I should intimate any thing derogatory to the character of the fair Countess Isabella Donzella, for she was strictly a modest lady in the ways of Spain. The Countess was a woman; I beg pardon, ardon, I should have said a lady; for though the term woman is to me the tenderest epithet that is applied, yet it is out of fashion with the fair. I say the Countess Isabella Donzella was a lady who, though fond of flirting and coquetting, was nevertheless alive to the dignity of her sex; and though she sometimes suffered from her unconquerable desire of humoring a coxcomb, she always suffered unjustly, further than her turpitude as a coquette. If there ever was a woman who could keep a secret, which some bachelors crustily doubt, that woman was the Countess Isabella Donzella, for she never communicated her designs to another, which certainly was wise; for whether the lady may be truly in love or trifling, a confidant will always spoil the matter, because she does not feel herself beloved, nor the interest felt by one beloved. But to return to our musical pedant, Don Juan. For his part, he was snugged away in his humble dwelling, and had gone to his straw without his supper; for in following the Countess Isabella Donzella, he had neglected to procure, by his guitar the means of procuring his supper. The reader, after this, will say that it was preposterous in one in the low circumstances of Don Juan, to address a countess; but then I have not let the cat out yet. There are two things to be considered besides the fact, which should be remembered, that the people of Spain do things in their own way, and that there are much queerer things to be met with in Seville. The first is, that the countess was at best but playing with Don Juan; and the second is, that our musical dandy took especial care that she should not know the state of his finances; for he went dressed like a prince, putting, like other ladies' men, all he got on his back. All night Juan's dreams were full of love, and the glorious prospects before him. Sometimes he awoke 435 of the world, and the beauties of social intercourse. Don Juan reached the grotto just as the moon rose, and tipt with silver radiance the distant ornamental trees of the convent; but he found not the object of his visit the Countess Isabella Donzella was not there. "Can she mean to deceive me?" ejaculated Don Juan; "can she trifle with the best affections and feelings of my heart?" He sat down in a beautiful Spanish kiosk, something after the manner of the Turkish summer-houses. It was at the end of a long avenue of orange trees which poured forth the most delicious odour, and here, illuminated by the moon, he sat to meditate on the magic of his guitar, and mark the approach of the charming Isabella Donzella. Suddenly he was aroused from his reverie by the sound of a light footstep along the winding avenue, which no ear save that of a lover could have distinguished. She came, tripping soft like a wood nymph, or a Diana, alternately seen and concealed by the luxuriant foliage of the fruit trees. Nearer and nearer she came, until her loose flowing robe. floating on the gentle breeze, convinced him that it could be no other than the fair Countess Isabella Donzella. Don Juan rose from his seat, and welcoming her to the happy interview, he seized her hand, and sinking on one knee, poured out, in all the eloquence he was master of, a confession of the passion that swayed his heart. The countess was surprised that love should lend such language to his tongue, but she concealed it, and with pretended diffidence congratulated her musical lover that they had both been actuated by the same impulse in seeking the interview. Don Juan asseverated that his whole heart was eternally hers, and the Countess declared that she had long parted with her own. Juan rose by the assistance of the lady, which, in Spain, is considered a fortunate omen, and having seated her, he sat himself down beside her. Many sweet things, as is always the case on such occasions, were said; but as a tell-tale is a bad character, it would be exceedingly impolite in me to publish to the world these delicious morceaux. Suffice it to say, that Don Juan was afraid lest he should lose by delay-that he paved the way for another assignation the next evening, and that he did then and there pop the awful question which has made many a hero tremble who had faced the cannon's mouth undaunted. The Countess replied to his question, that her friends would be opposed to her union with him or any untitled man, if they knew it; but she hoped that that obstacle would not be insurmountable. Don Juan then pressed her to elope, and assured her with the intensity of his emotions, and found that ere the authorities could pursue they would himself clasping the straw pillow for the charm- be indissolubly bound by the golden fetters of Hy men. The Countess demurred at first, then reasoned the case, and finally agreed that they should elope the next night, and fly to the suburbs, where lived an old priest who followed the same avocation as the blacksmith at Gretna Green, in England. Thus agreed they parted. ing Countess Isabella Donzella; and again, he was kneeling before her and clasping her small white hand, while his enraptured tongue poured forth the sentiments of his heart. The morning dawned over the eastern hills of Spain, and the day passed lazily away until the evening came, and then he flew to meet the charming Isabella Donzella. He passed the superb pile of the monastery, where many a heart sighed over its the convent, where he had been told he should blasted hopes and the dark veil which hid for see a light, the signal that she was in preparaever from their view the brilliant blandishments ❘tion. The light was gleaming from her cell, and The hour of elopement arrived, and our musical dandy drove round to the western wing of Don Juan chuckled at the prospect of being united to so accomplished a countess. Amid a clump of trees he drew up his carriage, and awaited with impatience the appearance of his heart's adored. He saw her wave her kerchief from a little window in the convent, and in a few minutes after saw her airy form approaching from the gloom of the shrubbery. She came to inform him that she would be with him in a few minutes, and enjoined it upon him that he should not speak to her until they arrived at the priest's house and were married, lest her imprudence should be discovered. She returned again to the convent, and Juan stood musing, entered immediately; where, as chance would have it, he occupied the same cell vacated by the countess. Here he applied himself to study, and astonished his brother monks by the rapidity of his attainments. It seemed that he had struck upon the vein of his genius, for in a few years he was no longer the insignificant being he had been, but a philosopher, versed in all the learning of Spain. On the death of one of the professors of the University of Seville, great interest was taken by an unexpected friend in favour of Don Juan, and he was soon after installed in the vacant chair of the University. Sympathising in the unhappy situation of his wife, not a little puzzled at her injunction of silence, Donna Inez, and being now able to provide for particularly as it came from a woman. But he her, he generously took her to his arms and bed did not muse long ere a rustling of silk an-again. He remained in this situation several nounced her approach, veiled from head to foot, She made motions indicative of silence, and Juan, without speaking a word, handed her to the cabriolet, and bade the postillion to drive on. Away went our musical friend, with his musical trophy, the Countess Isabella Donzella: and who so happy as Juan? The marriage was consummated by the old priest, the next morning came, and Juan found himself the husband of-Oh! Jupiter Ammon! not of the Countess Isabella Donzella, but simply of the Donna Inez, maid of honour to the Countess Isabella Donzella, with whom Don Juan had been flirting and playing the male coquette, having first won her affections, and then forsaken her in the pursuit of the Countess. Gods! what a situation was Don Juan placed in! He had never loved Donna Inez, and who may express the misery of being tied to a woman we do not love, and forced to bestow those endearments which we do not feel, and not feeling, do not bestow from inclination? Who can caress what he does not love? Who can imagine the surprise, astonishment, grief, vexation, and horror of Don Juan the next morning, when, instead of looking upon the plump, rosy, and roguish countenance of the Countess Isabella Donzella, he beheld the picture of the very reverse in the face of a waiting maid. Don Juan could bear it no longer, and raved like a maniac at the Countess, declaring he would have revenge for the imposition she had practised upon him. He also declared the marriage null and void, and that he would not live with the woman he had not chosen. Several times did he touch his guitarere reason returned to her throne, and the troubled waves of passion subsided. But providence many times avenges the injuries heaped upon us, and turns what we considered injuries, to blessings in the end. The very calamities which we sometimes deplore eventually prove the stepping stones to our fortune, and raise us above those who inflicted them upon us. Such was the fortunate fate of Don Juan. Mortified at his situation, he cut the acquaintance of his wife, and after having informed her that he did not wish the honour of starving with her, and returned to the convent to breathe vengeance on his roguish persecutor, but alas the countess has eloped with Don Alonzo Gonzales, and gone no one knew whither. Don Juan, perplexed and disgusted, seized with avidity an offer by the Prior of the Convent, and years, when his fame had spread over Spain, and the renown of his wisdom reaching the ears of Ferdinand, King of Spain, Don Juan was called to Madrid to be invested with a diplomatic character. He was shortly after sent ambassador to Naples, with full powers to negotiate a treaty of a very important nature. This was happily accomplished to the satisfaction of Ferdinand, and he returned to Madrid to find himself loaded with favours. A little incident now occurred, which eventuated in placing Juan on the very pinnacle of fortune. He was a second time sent to Naples, and one day while sauntering alone the shore of the beautiful Bay of Naples, with his wife hanging upon his arm, she was accosted by an aged and miserable looking man, who addressed her by the name of Donna Inez Androzzi, whose family he said he had known twenty years before in Venice, Florence, and Rome, which cities were successively the residence of the family. He reported her parents to have been of noble birth, and descended from the Doges of Venice. "Nay," said Inez, "I am of Spanish birthyou do not know me." " I may not be in error," replied the stranger, "for a trifle I will satisfy you of all." "You are amusing us with trifles," retorted Don Juan, "the lady's language is Spanish." "Tell me the history of my family," said Inez, giving him money, "for I should joy to know." "Lady," said the stranger, bowing, "you have been most unmercifully dealt with, and by the very person who should have been the last to injure you. Know then that the Countess Isabella Donzella has been a traitor to you. She was taken at an early age into your father's palace, and provided for as an orahan without a friend. Your father, as I said, was of noble birth, and possessed of a princely fortune, which he used in rescuing unfortunate orphans from misery. More than fifteen years ago the plague, in Florence, swept both your parents to the grave; but ere they died, they enjoined it upon Isabella to take care of you, and see that proper guardians were appointed for their only child. Amid the consternation that then reigned in Florence, man heard not the cries of his fellow man, nor heeded his misery, for every one was concerned only for himself." "And what did Isabella promise?" asked the Lady Inez, still incredulous. "That she would take care of you," returned | and arrived some time after at Madrid, intendthe stranger, "and that she would take care that ing, after the governmeat business was adjusted, you should not be wronged out of one tittle of to return to Italy, and take possession of their the vast estate bequeathed unto you. But no sooner were your parents deposited in the tomb of the Doges, than Isabella seized plate, jewels, and money; discharged the whole retinue of servants, or that part that had remained faithful after the appearance of the plague, and appropriated all to herself." "What became of Isabella, after this event?" inquired the Lady Inez. "In the character of an orphan child she took you with her on a travelling tour through the continent. She travelled through the northern Italian States into France, and thence through Switzerland and some of the Germanic States to England, where she remained a short time, long enough however to marry an English Count, who was drowned in a shipwreck soon after, in the passage to Spain." "What is my age?" asked Inez, with the view of testing the truth of his story. "Nineteen, next All-Soul's Day," said the old man. "Well do I remember the joy which rung through the hall when you were born." "You are right," returned Inez, "it is precisely the same which Isabella taught me. Know you any thing concerning Isabella's residence in Spain?" property. Six months after, when Juan was on the point of embarking for Italy, it was rumoured that the traitors had been arrested on the high seas, and that they were lodged in one of the dungeons in Madrid. They were ordered for trial first, on the charge of Juan, of having his property in their possession; but there was no proof, as he had neglected to inquire the name and residence of the individual whom he had seen at Naples. The Countess denied the charge in toto, and swore to avenge her injured innocence. She knew not that it was Don Juan who stood before her, the favourite of royalty, but once the musical pedant with whom she had trifled; and great was her mortification and surprise to find herself in the power of a man whorn she had once held in ridicule and contempt. Such are the strange vicissitudes of fortune, and such the mutability of human grandeur. He who triumphs to-day over his insignificant fellow being, may find himself in a few fleeting years sunk beneath his notice, or trembling at the footstool of his unexpected power, and almost mysterious superiority. These mutations of time often change the fool to the philosopher, and the pedant to the prince-the miserable becomes a monarch, and the proud nabob sinks to poverty. Mysterious, though wise are the ways of Providence. "Ay, she fixed her residence at Seville, where she represented you as an indigent orphan whom she had taken in pity, and as you grew older kept in the character of a waiting maid. This I learned from an old fellow servant who returned from Seville to Naples, and who watched every movement of the Countess; afraid, how-tence therefor-but they wept at the visible ever, to make a disclosure to you, least her power and ill-gotten wealth should bring him to the Inquisition. But, lady, you are now able to vindicate your wrongs, to recover your splendid fortune, and to punish the wicked and ungrateful woman who made the child of her benefactor and father her slave, and broke the solemn vow given to those whosnatched her from poverty and ruin." Inez wept, and taking a purse of gold from her bosom, gave it to the old faithful servant of her father, with the promise to provide for his old age, when she should recover her long lost estates. Thus they parted: and Don Juan, astonished at the turpitude of the Countess Isabella Donzella, now blessed his stars that her own duplicity had shielded him from her arms. A month after this event, Don Juan and Inez, the former having completed his business with the government, were on the point of embarcation, when news arrived that a conspiracy against the King of Spain had been discovered, and that Don Alonzo Gonzales and his wife were at the head of it. They had fled, it was supposed; into Italy; for their apprehension a large reward was offered. In a light felucca, Juan and Inez set sail for Sicily, intending to tarry awhile at the cities of Palermo and Messina, and from thence proceed to Spain. They had not remained long at Messina ere was rumoured that Don Alonzo and the countess were there. Pursuit commenced, and they fled. Having no hope of arresting the fugitives at that time, Juan and Inez embarked for Spain, Don Juan, after the culprits had denied all knowledge of such characters as Juan and Inez, made himself known; and they wept, not at the turpitude of which they were guilty, nor in peni change which had taken place, and the evil fortune which had thrown them at the mercy of those upon whom they once looked with pity or contempt. The sarcasm of an acknowledged inferior is severe, but to be bound at the feet and compelled to feel and acknowledge the dominance of those who had once trembled at our fiat, is the very acme of misery. The Countess Isabella Donzella now felt that keenest of all stings, save that which arises from the imputation of a weak intellect-for the Countess had shone in all the courts of Europe, had visited all the galleries of Italy and the learned societies of the continent, and had been pronounced the most accomplished and the most opulent lady of all Spain. But she had fallen-aye, fallen beneath the power of him whom she had scorned, and whose vengeance she knew she had merited. But her haughty spirit shrunk not before her accusers; she was still the same proud and imperious woman. It has been said, that when woman aberrates from the path of rectitude, she becomes incorrigible in crime, and far outstrips man in the ingenuity of her plans, her suddenness of thought and presence of mind in danger, and in the reckless, daring, aad desperate intrepidity of her deeds in the moment of execution. Thus it is, extremes are visible throughout all nature. The mind that is intensely bitter, is generous in the same ratio; and woman, the most gentle in virtue of all creatures, becomes the most vicious and revengeful when she descends to vice, |