Far otherwise: everything around her had contributed towards shaping for her a calm and serene destiny; her ******, tender soul had unfolded in an atmosphere of peace and happiness.If she had not hitherto loved, it was the fault, not of her coldness but of the extreme timidity shown by the inhabitants of her island.The blind depth of respect that surrounded the old fisherman had drawn around his daughter a barrier of esteem and submission that no one dared to cross.By means of thrift and labour Solomon had succeeded in creating for himself a prosperity that put the poverty of the other fishermen to the blush.No one had asked for Nisida because no one thought he deserved her.The only admirer who had dared to show his passion openly was Bastiano, the most devoted and dearest friend of Gabriel; but Bastiano did not please her.So, trusting in her beauty, upheld by the mysterious hope that never deserts youth, she had resigned herself to wait, like some princess who knows that her betrothed will come from a far country.
On the day of the Assumption she had left her island for the first time in her life, chance having chosen her among the maidens of the kingdom vowed by their mothers to the special protection of the Virgin.But, overwhelmed by the weight of a position so new to her, blushing and confused under the eyes of an immense crowd, she had scarcely dared to raise her wondering looks, and the splendours of the town had passed before her like a dream, leaving but a vague remembrance.
When she perceived the presence of this handsome young man, so slenderly and elegantly built, whose noble and calm demeanour contrasted with the timidity and awkwardness of her other admirers, she felt herself inwardly disturbed, and no doubt she would have believed that her prince had come, if she had been unpleasantly struck by the poverty of his dress.She had, nevertheless, allowed herself to listen to him longer than she ought to have done, and she drew back with her bosom heavy, her cheek on fire, and her heart rent by an ache that was both dull and sharp.
"If my father does not wish me to marry him," she said to herself, tormented by the first remorseful feeling of her life."I shall have done wrong to speak to him.And yet he is so handsome!"Then she knelt before the Virgin, who was her only confidante, the poor child having never known her mother, and tried to tell her the torments of her soul; but she could not achieve her prayer.The thoughts became entangled within her brain, and she surprised herself uttering strange words.But, assuredly, the Holy Virgin must have taken pity upon her lovely devotee, for she rose with the impression of a consoling thought, resolved to confide everything to her father.
"I cannot have a moment's doubt," she said to herself, as she unlaced her bodice, "of my father's affection.Well, then, if he forbids me to speak to him, it will be for my good.And indeed, I have seen him but this once," she added, as she threw herself upon the bed, "and now I think of it, I consider him very bold to dare to speak to me.
I am almost inclined to laugh at him.How confidently he brought out his nonsense, how absurdly he rolled his eyes! They are really very fine, those eyes of his, and so is his mouth, and his forehead and his hair.He does not suspect that I noticed his hands, which are really very white, when he raised them to heaven, like a madman, as he walked up and down by the sea.Come, come, is he going to prevent my sleeping? I will not see him again!" she cried, drawing the sheet over her head like an angry child.Then she began to laugh to herself over her lover's dress, and meditated long upon what her companions would say to it.Suddenly her brow contracted painfully, a frightful thought had stolen into her mind, she shuddered from head to foot."Suppose he were to think someone else prettier than me?
Men are so foolish! Certainly, it is too hot, and I shall not sleep to-night."Then she sat up in her bed, and continued her monologue--which we will spare the reader--till the morning.Scarcely had the first rays of light filtered through the interlacing branches of jasmine and wavered into the room, when Nisida dressed herself hurriedly, and went as usual to present her forehead to her father's kiss.The old man at once observed the depression and weariness left by a sleepless night upon his daughter's face, and parting with an eager and anxious hand the beautiful black hair that fell over her cheeks, he asked her, "What is the matter, my child? Thou hast not slept well?""I have not slept at all," answered Nisida, smiling, to reassure her father; "I am perfectly well, but I have something to confess to you.""Speak quickly, child; I am dying with impatience.""Perhaps I have done wrong; but I want you to promise beforehand not to scold me.""You know very well that I spoil you," said the old man, with a caress ; "I sha11 not begin to be stern to-day.""A young man who does not belong to this island, and whose name I do not know, spoke to me yesterday evening when I was taking the air at my window.""And what was he so eager to say to you, my dear Nisida?""He begged me to speak to you in his favour.""I am listening.What can I do for him?""Order me to marry him."
"And should you obey willingly?"
"I think so, father," the girl candidly replied."As to other things, you yourself must judge in your wisdom; for I wanted to speak to you before coming to know him, so as not to go on with a conversation that you might not approve.But there is a hindrance.""You know that I do not recognise any when it is a question of ****** my daughter happy.""He is poor, father."
1
"He is a poet."
