The Spanish Brothers: A Tale of the Sixteenth Century

by Deborah Alcock

  XXXVII.

  Something Ended and Something Begun.

  "O sweet and strange it is to think that ere this day is done. The voice that now is speaking may be beyond the sun: For ever and for ever with those just souls and true-- And what is life that we should mourn, why make we such ado?"--Tennyson

  Late in the afternoon of that day, Dona Inez entered her sick brother'sroom. A glitter of silk, rose-coloured and black, of costly lace and ofgems and gold, seemed to surround her. But as she threw aside themantilla that partially shaded her face, and almost sank on a seatbeside the bed, it was easy to see that she was very faint and weary, ifnot also very sick at heart.

  "Santa Maria! I am tired to death," she murmured. "The heat waskilling; and the whole business interminably long."

  Gonsalvo gazed at her with eager eyes, as a man dying of thirst mightgaze on one who holds a cup of water; but for a while he did not speak.At last he said, pointing to some wine that lay near, beside an untastedmeal,--

  "Drink, then."

  "What, my brother!" said Dona Inez, reproachfully, "you have not touchedfood to-day! You--so ill and weak?"

  "I am a man--even still," said Gonsalvo with a little bitterness in histone.

  Dona Inez drank, and for a few moments fanned herself in silence,distress and embarrassment in her face.

  At last Gonsalvo, who had never withdrawn his eager gaze, said in a lowvoice,--

  "Sister, remember your promise."

  "I am afraid--for you."

  "You need not," he gasped. "Only tell me _all_."

  Dona Inez passed her hand wearily across her brow.

  "Everything floats before me," she said. "What with the music, and themass, and the incense; and the crosses, and banners, and gorgeous robes;and then the taking of the oaths, and the sermon of the faith."

  "Still--you kept my charge?"

  "I did, brother." She lowered her voice. "Hard as it was, I looked at_her_. If it comforts you to know that, all through that long day, herface was as calm as ever I have seen it listening to Fray Constantino'ssermons, you may take that comfort to your heart When her sentence hadbeen read, she was asked to recant; and I heard her answer rise clearand distinct, 'I neither can nor will recant.' Ave Maria Sanctissima!it is all a great mystery."

  There was a silence, then she resumed,--

  "And Senor Cristobal Losada--" but the thought of the kind and skilfulphysician who had watched beside her own sick-bed, and brought back herbabe from the gates of the grave, almost overcame her. Turning quicklyto other victims, she went on--

  "There were four monks of St. Jerome. Think of the White Doctor, thatevery one believed so good a man, so pious and orthodox! Another ofthem, Fray Cristobal D'Arellano, was accused in his sentence of somewicked words against Our Lady which, it would seem, he never said. Hecried out boldly, before them all, 'It is false! I never advanced sucha blasphemy; and I am ready to prove the contrary with the Bible in myhand.' Every one seemed too much amazed even to think of ordering himto be gagged: and, for my part, I am glad the poor wretch had his wordfor the last time. I cannot help wishing they had equally forgotten tosilence Doctor Juan Gonzales; for it does not appear that he wasspeaking any blasphemy, but merely a word of comfort to a poor palegirl, his sister, as they told me. Two of them are to die with him--Godhelp them!--Holy Saints forgive me; I forgot we were told not to prayfor them," and she crossed herself.

  "Does my sister really believe that compassionate word a sin in God'ssight?"

  "How am I to know? I believe whatever the Church says, of course. Andsurely there is enough in these days to inspire us with a pious horrorof heresy. _Pues_," she resumed, "there was that long and terribleceremony of degrading from the priesthood. And yet that Gonsalez passedthrough it all as calm and unmoved as though he were but putting on hisrobes to say mass. His mother and his two brothers are still in prison,it is said, awaiting their doom. Of all the relaxed, I am told thatonly Don Juan Ponce de Leon showed any sign of penitence. For the sakeof his noble house, one is glad to think he is not so hardened as therest. Ay de mi! Whether it be right or wrong, I cannot help pityingtheir unhappy souls."

  "Pity your own soul, not theirs," said Gonsalvo. "For I tell you Christhimself, in all his glory and majesty, at the right hand of the Father,will _stand up_ to receive them this night, as he did to welcome St.Stephen long ago."

  "Oh, my poor brother, what dreadful words you speak! It is a mortal sineven to listen to you. Take thought, I implore you, of your ownsituation."

  "I _have_ taken thought," interrupted Gonsalvo, faintly. "But I canbear no more--just now. Leave me, I pray you, alone with God."

  "If you would even try to say an Ave!--But I fear you areill--suffering. I do not like to leave you thus."

  "Do not heed me; I shall be better soon. And a vow is upon me that Imust keep to-day." Once more he flung the wasted hand across his faceto conceal it.

  Irresolute whether to go or stay, she stood for some minutes watchinghim silently. At length she caught a low murmur, and hoping that heprayed, she bent over him to hear. Only three words reached her ear.They were these--"Father, forgive them."

  After an interval, Gonsalvo looked up again. "I thought you were gone,"he said. "Go now, I entreat of you. But so soon as you know _the end_,spare not to come and tell me. For I wait for that."

  Thus entreated, Dona Inez had no choice but to leave him alone, whichshe did.

  Evening had worn to night, and night was beginning to wear towardsdaybreak, when at last Don Garcia Ramirez, and those of his servants whohad accompanied him to the Prado San Sebastian to see the end, returnedhome.

  Dona Inez sat awaiting her husband in the patio. She looked pale andlanguid; apparently the great holiday of Seville had been anything but ajoyful day to her.

  Don Garcia divested himself of his cloak and sword, and dismissed theservants to their beds. But when his wife invited him to partake of thesupper she had prepared, he turned upon her with very unusualill-humour. "It is little like thy wonted wit, senora mia, to bid a manto his breakfast at midnight," he said. Yet he drank deeply of theXeres wine that stood on the board beside the venison pasty and themanchet bread.

  At last, after long patience, Dona Inez won from his lips what shedesired to hear. "Oh yes; all is over. Our Lady defend us! I havenever seen such obstinacy; nor could I have believed it possible unlessI had seen it. The criminals encouraged each other to the very last.Those girls, the sisters of Gonsalez, repeated their Credo at the stake;whereupon the attendant Brethren entreated them to have so much pity ontheir own souls as to say, 'I believe in the _Roman_ Catholic Church.'They answered, 'We will do as our brother does.' So the gag wasremoved, and Doctor Juan cried aloud, 'Add nothing to the goodconfession you have made already.' But for all that, order was given tostrangle them; and one of the friars told us they died in the truefaith. I suppose it is not a sin to hope they did."

  After a pause, he continued, in a deeper tone, "Senor Cristobal amazedme as much as any of them. At the very stake, some of the Brethrenundertook to argue with him. But seeing that we were all listening, andmight hear somewhat to the hurt of our souls, they began to speak in theLatin tongue. Our physician immediately did the same. I am no scholarmyself; but there were learned men there who marked every word, and oneof them told me afterwards that the doomed man spoke with as muchelegance and propriety as if he had been contending for an academicprize, instead of waiting for the lighting of the fire which was toconsume him. This unheard-of calmness and composure, whence is it? Thedevil's own work, or"----he broke off suddenly and resumed in adifferent tone, "Senora mia, have you thought of the hour? In Heaven'sname, let us to our beds!"

  "I cannot go to rest until you tell me one thing more. Dona Maria deBohorques?"

  "Vaya, vaya! have we not had enough of it all?"

  "Nay; I have made a promise. I must entreat you to t
ell me how DonaMaria de Bohorques met her doom."

  "With unflinching hardihood. Don Juan Ponce tried to urge her to yieldsomewhat. But she refused, saying it was not now a time for reasoning,and that they ought rather to meditate on the Lord's death and passion.(They believe in _that_, it seems.) When she was bound to the stake,the monks and friars crowded round her, and pressed her only to repeatthe Credo. She did so; but began to add some explanations, which, Isuppose, were heretical. Then immediately the command was given tostrangle her; and so, in one moment, while she was yet speaking, deathcame to her."

  "Then she did not suffer? She escaped the fire! Thank God!"

  Five minutes afterwards, Dona Inez stood by her brother's bed. He lay inthe same posture, his face still shaded by his hand.

  "Brother," she said gently--"brother, all is over. She did not suffer.It was done in one moment."

  There was no answer.

  "Brother, are you not glad she did not feel the fire? Can you not thankGod for it? Speak to me."

  Still no answer.

  He could not be asleep! Impossible!--"Speak to me,Gonsalvo!--_Brother!_"

  She drew close to him; she touched his hand to remove it from his face.The next moment a cry of horror rang through the house. It brought theservants and Don Garcia himself to the room.

  "He is dead! God and Our Lady have mercy on his soul!" said Don Garcia,after a brief examination.

  "If only he had had the Holy Sacrament, I could have borne it!" saidDona Inez; and then, kneeling down beside the couch, she wept bitterly.

  So passed the beggar with the King's sons, through the golden gate intothe King's own presence-chamber. His wrecked and troublous life over,his passionate heart at rest for ever, the erring, repentant Gonsalvofound entrance into the same heaven as D'Arellano, and Gonsalez, andLosada, with their radiant martyr-crowns. In the many mansions therewas a place for him, as for those heroic and triumphant ones. He worethe same robe as they--a robe washed and made white, not in the blood ofmartyrs, but in the blood of the Lamb.