The spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1840-1844, 1843-03-24


brow, serene and calm, and stamped alike with
candour and courage; the smooth cheek, rich with
the hues of health; the lips, parting in happy
smile, and eloquent of joy and hope: 1t was The
face Of that willy, graspng, ambitious, unscruPu-
Ions man, when life had yet brought no sin; it was
as if the ghost of youth were come back 10 accuse
the crimes Of manhood! The miniature fell from
his hand; he groaned aloud Then, gazing on the
PROSTATE form of the novice, he said ,'Poor wretch
can believe that thou art indeed Of mine own
race and blood; or, rather, does not nature, that
stamped these lineamens on thy countenance, de-
ceiyc and mock me' If she, thy mother, lied,
why not nature herselr!'
He raised the novice in his arms and gazed long
and wslfully upon her Celess hut most lovely iea-
lures. She moved not, she scarcely seemed to
breathe; yet no fncied he felt her embrace tight
ening round him; he lancied he heard agcn the
voice that had hailed him 'Falhcrn His heart
f heat aloud; the divine instinct overpowered all
things; he pressed passionate kiss upon her cheek
But again the dark remembrance crossed him and
he shuddered, placed the novice hastily on One of
| the couches, and shouted aloud.
, The Jew appeared and was ordered to summon
2 JacIno. A young woman of the same persuasion,
and of harsh and lorbdding exterior, entered, and
to her care Caderon briefly consigned the yet in
r sensible Beariz
While Jacinto unlaced the dress and cha(ed the
temples of the novice, Calderon seemed buried in
oInn ,hnunhf : lnst no ctrnba Slnwly
as if TO leave the chamber, when his foot struck
against the case of the picture, and his eye rested
upon scroll which lay therein, folded and nbcd-
ded, lie took it up, and, lifting aside the hang
ings, hurried into small cabinet lighted by sin
gle lamp Here, alone and unseen. Calderon read
e the following letter.
Q TO RopERIGo NUNEz.
/ 'Wll this letter ever meet thine eyes, ] know
mol but is comfort to write TO thee on the bed
death; and were it no, for that haunting thought,
love-filhlcss and dishonored, even death itself
T.! would be the swcOter, because il comes from loss
of thee. Yes something tells me that these lines
D will not be written in vain; that thou wilt read
them yet, when this hand is still, and this brain at
rest, and that then thou wilt feel that could no,
e have dared to write to thee If were not innocent
n that in every word thou wilt recognise the evi.
e dencc, that is strong as the voice of thousands
the simple hut solemn evidence Of faith and truth.
G What, when for thee deserted ALL home, and II
n fathers love; wealth. and the name had inherit.
Z ed from Moors, who had been nonarcl,s IN their
Z, day coulds thou think that ! had not made the
love Of thee the core, and life, and principle of my
very being,' And one shot year, could that sni.
j fee to shake thy fill' one year OF marriage, but
0 two months of absence You left me, left that
= deal home by the silver Xenil. For love did not
G suffice you ambition began 10 stir within you, and
= you called it 'love.' You said 1T gricved you
that was poor; ,ha; you could not restore to me
the luxury aud wealth | had lost (Alas, why
] did you turn so incredulously from my assurance,
that in you, and You alone, were centred my am
0 bon and pridcO You declared that the vain
readers Of the stars had loreold, at Your cradle,
that you were prcdestincd to lofty honors and
: dazzling power, and that the prophecy would work
out its own fulGmen,. lou left me to seek in
Madrid your relation, who had risen into the favor
ola minister, and from whose love YOU expected
to gaia an opening to your career. Do you re.
member how we parted, how you kissed away
my tears, and how they gushcd forth again; how
again and again YOU said 'fircwell' and again and
again, returned as if we could never part! And
took my babe, but few weeks born, from her
cradle, and placed her IN thy arms, and babe thee
see that she had already learned thy smc and
were these the signs Of lhschood? Oh, how
pinned for the sound of Thy luolscp when thou vert
gone, how all the summer had vanished from the
landscape, and how, turning TO thy chi'd,I lhncicd
! again bcheld thee. The day after thou hads
left me there was knock al The door Of the cot
iage; the nurse onened il, and thnre entered your
former rival, whom my father had sought to force
upon me, the richest of the descendants of the
Moor, Arrarez Fenarez. Why lingcr on this
hateful subject he had Tackled us to our home ;hc
had learned thy absence; he came to insult me
with his vows. lly the Blessed Mother, whom
thou hast taught me to adore; by the terror and
pang of death; by my hopes Of heaven, am inno-
cent, Rcdcrigo, am innocent Oh how coulds,
thou be so deceived lie left the co,lngc discom-
fitted and enragcd; again he sough, me, again and
again; and, when the door was closed upon him,
he waylaid my steps. Lone and delcncees ms We
were, thy wife and child, with but one attendant
feared him not but trcmbed at thy return, for
knew thou vert Spaniard a Casiilian, and that
beneath thy gentle seeming lurked pride, and jeal
ousy, and revenge. Thy letter came, the only let
ter since thy absence, the last letter may ever
weep over and lay upon my heart Thy relation
was dead, and his wealth enriched n nearer heir.
Thou vert 10 return. The day in which might