The Virginian

THE NOBLE FRIENDS.

In that period when the victims of chivalry suffered, and gallantry in war, courage extolled and practised to the young knights, a love and devotedness in friendship were the sources from which neighborhood contests arose in Bologna. Equal in birth, and initiated in the military exercises, and could alone attract the eyes of beauty, which then engrossed the attention of every one. They were distinguished not only for their skill and also much more by an invariable friendship, which began in childhood and increased in every ripening year. They were known to Bologna by the name of The Friends: they were seen constantly together, confidants and partakers in each other's pleasure and amusements, and however addicted to the follies of youth, the tie which bound them to each other. Their souls, however, amidst them all, lost sight of nothing. Their meetings were like the meeting and falling separated lovers. Nor was this attachment without touching on either side to strengthen this. In hurly burly perhaps his life, to the courage of surprised and shrewd adventure. Francesco owed narrowest fond could save himself from the Arturo unshrinkingly bore blows and menaces. On the other hand, an assassin, posted at his own door, world have made him a victim to a rival's resentment anon. But Francesco, who had carefully watched his friend, and tracked him from the dwelling of his mistress, there pled the blow and turned it unto the assailant's own bosom. It was then that having retired to the chamber of Francesco, owned the overflowings of gratitude of the one and of joy of the other at being the happy means of his friend's preservation. They solemnly pledged themselves that neither love, ambition nor anything in life should obliterate the bond of friendship.

Shortly after this event, a subject of universal interest, a tournament was to be held in the neighbourhood of Bologna, and these young espousers determined to appear there united as the two champions of ancient mythology challenging the whole chivalry of Italy to contend with them the palm of warlike enterprise. The field was made ready: the people flocked in throngs from various quarters to witness the achievements, while the fairest ladies of Bologna, having put on their brightest looks and the best garbs took their places ready to honor the victors with smiles and applauses. In those days at a tournament, the appearance of a new and beautiful face was looked for with no less anxiety than it is now in a fashionable assembly. There the young damsel was first exposed to the gaze of multitudes, and caught for the first time the glance of admiration. It was the store not likely to diminish the eclat of this tournament, when it was noised abroad that a lady of Bologna of the noblest rank and most exquisite beauty, was to grace it with her presence. She was extremely young, and had been carefully secluded from the eyes of all except her relations, yet the supposed perfections her charms was the more believed from the pains taken to conceal them. In this instance, such exaggerated accounts did not, as too often happens lead to disappointment. When she appeared every eye turned towards her, and every eye was gratified. Her form was most graceful and her features were of such a cast as the pencil afterwards delighted to represent as belonging to a Madonna or St. Cecilia, so spirited dignified and celestial, as almost seeming to despise the endowment of nature conscious of the superior soul which animated them. At once the name of the Donna Maria became the watch-word to be breathed in battle, or at the festive board; in the one as the excitement in her old, in the other as the inspirer of the softest emotions. Two adventurous knights were successful in their encounters doubly animated as they were to their utmost exertions by the sight of this so celebrated beauty. From her hands they received the meed of valor, and from her looks they both caught the deepest passion. But each, though full of awakening a kindred flame in the bosom of the other did not lisp a syllable of the love they felt: full of confidence on every other point, and loquacious upon the minutest circumstances of their warlike mimicries, they studiously abstained from touching on their pleasing hopes. They chose separate hours for their visitings; never in the presence of each other expressed the pleasure they experienced in her society but acted in this with the cautiousness of detected enemies.

The passion of these two men for the same object soon became obvious to others, and excited an intense interest to know how it would affect their conduct towards each other. "Now it will be seen," it was said, "to what this boasted friendship will amount when put in opposition to a stronger passion: jealousy will make them bitter enemies." Those who observed them with the expectation of such a result, observed in vain. No outward estrangement followed. It rather seemed that their feelings, in consequence, became more tender than before, and that conscious of being in thus one respect less confiding, less true to their friendship, they strove by every little attention—by a thousand kind nesses of manner, of act, and of look, to prove the depth of their attachment. Arturo, more bold and confident, was making rapid advances in the affections of Maria when his love was further favored by chance. An important mission was sent to a neighboring state, and Francesco was selected as the envoy. He was reluctantly compelled to tear himself from the scenes of love and friendship, and after having taken a brief and half distracted leave of his mistress, turned to embrace his friend—Though they had carefully avoided mentioning to each other their sentiments of attachment to Maria, they had not long remained unsuspected. But in this moment of anguish, passion would have utterance. "Farewell, dearest of friends," exclaimed Francesco; "yet, Arturo dear as is my sorrow at our separation, a stronger pang now tears my bosom—I leave you my friend and I leave a rival in that friend. Is it not so? You turn aside your head—why did I know it must be so. But let us be generous. Let us be true. Promise not to take advantage of my absence to prosper your suit with Maria." Arturo deeply affected said, "I promise." They then exchanged swords—embraced—and parted.

The first week elapsed and Arturo kept his word but in the second he was visited by the favorite maid of Maria whose good will he had propitiated by various gifts. She remonstrated with him on the folly of neglecting the opportunity offered by the absence of Francesco: she asked him if a bride was less dear than a friend; and declared that Maria was already his, and would at once accept him as her lover. Persuaded at last he forgot the vows of friendship—he flew to her house and departed happy with the reciprocation of his Love. But the perfidy of which he had been guilty damped his joy and he determined when Francesco returned to disclose to him every circumstance of his wooing and leave him to decide his fate. Maria, noble in spirit as in birth confirmed his resolution & they agreed to keep their attachment a secret from their nearest relations until it should be sanctioned by the approbation of Francesco.

However cautiously they proceeded, they could not escape the jealous eye of Albruno, another suitor of Maria, who was at once conspicuous for rank, fortune, and personal prowess. Seconded by the wishes of her family, to whom he had previously made overtures, and confident in his skill, he caused a great tournament to be proclaimed, and proposed, as the prize, with the consent of her parents, the hand of Donna Maria. The fame of this projected tournament, in the issue of which were interested the fairest lady in Italy, and one of its most distinguished scions, soon spread, and drew together an immense concourse of spectators. It happened that the day when it was to take place, was in the middle of one of the holiday-weeks kept most sacred in Christendom, in which labor and business give place to festivities and rejoicings. It may well be supposed that the rumor signally interested them all who could command the means of life, and had the campaign to support the journey. For a few days preceding the appointed time, the avenues of every side of Bologna were thronged with crowds the most varied in age, fortune, and modes of travelling. The tailless of their more fortunate fellow travellers the limper or groped their way—while many beggars means to carry them to the end of their journey. You might see the prancing steeds of the gallant through the motley multitude of pedestrians: & a cavalier moving with difficulty and danger. Neement of her palfrey, drew from the envying many a lady not sufficiently skilled to the manage fair on foot, whose dress she induced, words & looks little befitting the sweet mouth and pretty eyes of those that gave them. In the mean time, Arturo, full of anticipated triumph, prepared himself for the contest. His armour was newly dight: his sword freshly sharpened: his apparel splendid and gay, with a device prepared for the occasion: and became early known through out Bologna, that Arturo and Albruno were to be the rival combatants at the tournament. Albruno, at first arrogant and fearless, when the time approached and it became certain that Arturo was to be opposite champion, began to grow to doubt, then to calculate the chances of defeat, and to waver wretchedly between the extremes of hope and despondency. At last, maddened by fear, he determined to stain the reputation he had earned in many an hour of danger, and prevent by treachery all fears of the issue. He ascertained that Arturo, to exercise his steed and himself, rode but slightly attended through an unfrequented grove. The afternoon previous to the day of battle, Arturo took his accustomed ride, completely armed, but with his helmet open and thinking more of the charms of his mistress than of aught before or around him. Suddenly he is attacked by several armed cavaliers with swords drawn. His few attendants fly—he has hardly time to close his vizor, when a lance's point is broken in the bars. His horse is slain, himself he stuns to the ground, and on the point of being killed, when a bugle is suddenly heard and an armed train advances from the opposite end of the grove. "Discourteous men," exclaimed a knight, with a pennon at his lance, coming forward from the troop. "cease to overwhelm a prostrate foe and learn to blush that knightly spears can be guilty of so cowardly a combat." The assassins hearing these words, left Arturo on the ground, and rushed to meet the band that approached them. But unequal in skill and numbers, the treacherous party, after the most desperate resistance, were forced to retreat, leaving one of their number stretched lifeless on the field, though not until the foremost knight of the conquerors, who had hastily and inadequately armed himself for the rescue, had received a severe wound in his sword arm. This was Francesco; who returning in haste after having successfully finished his mission, to arrive in time for the tournament, by good fortune passed that way to save the life of his friend. The cavalier who had been first attacked was now raised from the ground; the helmet was unclasped, and displayed the features of Arturo. "Ah, my dear friend!" exclaimed Francesco "happy am I in having come to succor you blessed be the hour in which I took this road—but how are you?—are you wounded?" "No, dear Francesco, I am only slightly bruised, and a night's rest will easily recruit me But what do I see!—there is blood upon your arm!—Heaven forbid that you should be hurt in aiding me." "My arm is indeed disabled—and at this time too—to-morrow is the tournament, and alas, my sword-arm disabled! Oh, Arturo, did you ever love me? When children we frolicked together on these green plains; when grown up we had all our sports and exercises in company, and you have called me hundreds of times by the endearing name of friend, was your friendship pretended, or was it real?" "Gracious heaven, what a question" replied Arturo, "have you not twice saved my life!—was not the assassin's steel but an inch from my breast when you wafted it away—and that very arm now—that savior arm does it not bleed with the swords that would, ere this, have reeked with my blood? Can you then ask me if I love you! Yes, every passion yields to the sacred one of friendship, strengthened by gratitude, and my full heart is now engrossed with love for you." "It is well for my life is in your hands—but first examine the dead body of that treacherous foe, who set upon you at so much vantage." Arturo unclosed the helmet, and cried, as he saw the face, "This is the confidential satellite of Albruno, and Albruno's is the infernal villainy which would have removed a rival from the contest." Francesco hearing this, considered for a moment, and then beckoned to one of his train to come and bind up his arm. After this had been done, he gave a signal for his troops to retire and follow him at some distance: and then, having made Arturo mount on the horse of a domestic, bade him ride at his side. "Albruno's treachery," said Arturo, "shall cost him dear to-morrow, if my good lance and my trusty arm fail me not, since nought but his life will satisfy my vengeance." "I fear much," replied Francesco, "that it will cost you dearer, after you have heard what I am about to say to you. It was my errand to Bologna to meet in the lists Albruno—my deadly foe, because my rival with Donna Maria. You start—what, did you think that I had forgotten her? You are no lover of hers to imagine such a thing for a moment. No, I cannot live without her: and if as you say, friendship is stronger than love, prove it now by granting me one boon. Do you hesitate? Ha! you change color, and guess too well what it is. "Oh, Arturo! I will not say look on this sword; it is gashed by swords which were raised against your life. I will not say, behold this blood and this helpless arm, as I cannot claim merit from that which every noble cavalcade would have done. Yet still, if friend ship has any influence, grant me my boon. Pity me—a deep and burning passion consumes me: and it is to you, to you, my friend the friend of my childhood, youth and manhood, that I make this appeal." "Francesco, cease! You know not how much you ask—yet now dare I, ungrateful wretch, for a moment doubt? My benefactor, my preserver, speak your wish and it shall be granted. If you asked it before this meeting, it would have been the duty of my friendship to comply; but now the holy bonds of gratitude enforce the request, and love, and every cherished hope in life cannot disturb them. Demand then, boldly—so far from denying your boon, I swear, be it what it may, not even with one word to dissuade you from it." "It is this, Arturo, though it grieves my heart to take advantage of your generosity: use my armor and my steed, and win for me, in to-morrow's strife, the beauteous Donna Maria." Arturo could only find words to assent, and then rode in melancholy silence to the city.

The day expected by thousands at length arrived. The lists are prepared, and thronging and eager multitudes rush to secure a good place of view. In the galleries above, amid a brilliant train of nobles and ladies, appeared the Donna Maria, upon whom every eye glancing, words were heard flying from mouth to mouth through the vast circle, "This is indeed a worthy cause for knightly quarrels; and the knight who dies for her may deem it no ignoble death if he can gain one smile, from so sweet a face." She was pale, but well preserved the dignity due to her birth and fame, and her compressed and bloodless lips alone betrayed her excessive agitation.

The trumpets sounded and after the usual preliminaries, at opposite ends of the lists appeared Albruno and Francesco. Every one was astonished. "Where is Arturo?" was buzzed about on every side; but the combatants wheeling their horses some space from each other for the charge, soon absorbed the interest of all. Arturo desperate, not daring either to win his lady for his friend or leave her to his hated enemy had placed no breastplate on his breast. The horses flew like lightning to the shock. A cloud of dust for an instant hid the combatants: when as it cleared away, Albruno was discovered hit with the lance, and tumbling from the saddle. The supposed Francesco sat erect—the crowd with eager shouts exclaimed "Huzza for Francesco!" But their noise was instantaneously hushed in silence when the blood was seen trickling from the breast of the victor, and the lance remained midway in his body. The real Francesco rushed into the circle in time to receive in his arms his falling friend. "Oh, Arturo!" he cried, "what have you done? You've no breast plate on. What dreadful mystery is this?" "I have punished the traitor. I forgive your friend—I could not bear to be wanting either to my friendship or my love. I never could have survived to have seen Maria in the arms of another lover, and there was but this way to be true to both." "My friend! my friend!" cried Francesco. "Oh, fatal error! blind that I was to force you to such an alternative! Why, oh why did you not gain your mistress for your friend, that that friend might have thrown her into your embrace the pledge of what sincere friendship is? Would that you had shown the same confidence in my generosity that I did in yours, when I asked of you such a trial!" "I feel that I am dying—where is Maria—where art thou my love—my bride!" Donna Maria sprung into the circle, and supported the head of her dying lover. "Sweet it is to die," he said, "thus in the arms of love & friendship, and the grave will be hallowed which shall be watered with such tears. Now ceases that rivalry which had I lived, must have made me false to Maria or to Francesco: and I pray thee love who wert the life of my life, not to mourn too bitterly my fate but seek another Arturo in this his friend. Reserve for him the faith which has been so fatal to me, but may it have a happier issue." "Never," replied Maria "shall this hand which should have been thine, be given to another: I loved thee, living I will now love thee dead. These sepulchre shall be our place of meeting and as I wander near it in the soft twilight strewing the freshest flowers, do thou in spirit arise to welcome me and renew the converse which formed our joy while thou wert living. A neighboring convent shall shelter me, and there in prayer and deeds of benevolence I will spend the solitary remnant of my life." The earth and its objects now grow dim." Arturo faintly said, and clasping in one hand the hand of Maria & in the other that of Francesco he quietly yielded his breath. Maria was torn in a swoon from the body and faithful to her promise soon retired to a religious house where she became distinguished for her piety. Francesco, lonely and melancholy, haunted in unmitigated grief the scenes where he had been so happy with his friend: or sought in foreign countries to lose the remembrance of that calamity which he charged upon himself. Often did he repeat that he would a thousand times rather have suffered the loss of his friend. At last he fell mortally wounded in successfully repelling an attack which had been made on his native city. With his dying lips he begged to be carried to the grave of Arturo; and his attendants declared with the credulous superstition of the age, that as he expired, an angel rose from the tomb, and their spirits flew up together till they were lost from sight. Thus side by side the friends were laid, and often did Maria scatter over the tomb roses and violets till heaven took pity on her sorrows and called her to share with them their happy abodes.

AMICITIA.