The Rise of Iskander | Page 2

in the construction of which
the architect had certainly not consulted the surrounding models which
Time bad spared to him, but which, however, it might have offended a
classic taste, presented altogether a magnificent appearance.
Half-a-dozen guards, whose shields and helmets somewhat oddly
contrasted with the two pieces of cannon, one of which was

ostentatiously placed on each side of the portal, and which had been
presented to the Prince of Athens by the Republic of Venice, lounged
before the entrance, and paid their military homage to the stranger as he
passed them. He passed them and entered a large quadrangular garden,
surrounded by arcades, supported by a considerable number of thin,
low pillars, of barbarous workmanship, and various-coloured marbles.
In the midst of the garden rose a fountain, whence the bubbling waters
flowed in artificial channels through vistas of orange and lemon trees.
By the side of the fountain on a luxurious couch, his eyes fixed upon a
richly-illuminated volume, reposed Nicæus, the youthful Prince of
Athens.
"Ah! is it you?" said the Prince, looking up with a smile, as the stranger
advanced. "You have arrived just in time to remind me that we must do
something more than read the Persæ, we must act it."
"My dear Nicæus," replied the stranger, "I have arrived only to bid you
farewell."
"Farewell!" exclaimed the Prince in a tone of surprise and sorrow; and
he rose from the couch. "Why! what is this?"
"It is too true;" said the stranger, and he led the way down one of the
walks. "Events have occurred which entirely baffle all our plans and
prospects, and place me in a position as difficult as it is harrowing.
Hunniades has suddenly crossed the Danube in great force, and carried
everything before him. I am ordered to proceed to Albania instantly,
and to repair to the camp at the head of the Epirots."
"Indeed!" said Nicæus, with a thoughtful air. "My letters did not
prepare me for this. 'Tis sudden! Is Amurath himself in the field?"
"No; Karam Bey commands. I have accounted for my delay to the
Sultan by pretended difficulties in our treaty, and have held out the
prospect of a larger tribute."
"When we are plotting that that tribute should be paid no longer!"
added Nicæus, with a smile.

"Alas! my dear friend," replied the Turkish commander, "my situation
has now become critical. Hitherto my services for the Moslemin have
been confined to acting against nations of their own faith. I am now
suddenly summoned to combat against my secret creed, and the best
allies of what I must yet call my secret country. The movement, it
appears to me, must be made now or never, and I cannot conceal from
myself, that it never could have been prosecuted under less auspicious
circumstances."
"What, you desponding!" exclaimed Nicæus; "then I must despair.
Your sanguine temper has alone supported me throughout all our
dangerous hopes."
"And Æschylus?" said the stranger, smiling.
"And Æschylus, certainly," replied Nicæus; "but I have lived to find
even Æschylus insipid. I pant for action."
"It may be nearer than we can foresee," replied the stranger. "There is a
God who fashions all things. He will not desert a righteous cause. He
knoweth that my thoughts are as pure as my situation is difficult. I have
some dim ideas still brooding in my mind, but we will not discuss them
now. I must away, dear Prince. The breeze serves fairly. Have you ever
seen Hunniades?"
"I was educated at the Court of Transylvania," replied Nicæus, looking
down with a somewhat embarrassed air. "He is a famous knight,
Christendom's chief bulwark."
The Turkish commander sighed. "When we meet again," he said, "may
we meet with brighter hopes and more buoyant spirits. At present, I
must, indeed, say farewell."
Tile Prince turned with a dejected countenance, and pressed his
companion to his heart. "'Tis a sad end," said he, "to all our happy
hours and lofty plans."
"You are as yet too young to quarrel with Fortune," replied the stranger,

"and for myself, I have not yet settled my accounts with her. However,
for the present farewell, dear Nicæus!"
"Farewell," replied the Prince of Athens, "farewell, dear Iskander!"

CHAPTER 2
Iskander was the youngest son of the Prince of Epirus, who, with the
other Grecian princes, had, at the commencement of the reign of
Amurath the Second, in vain resisted the progress of the Turkish arms
in Europe. The Prince of Epirus had obtained peace by yielding his four
sons as hostages to the Turkish sovereign, who engaged that they
should be educated in all the accomplishments of their rank, and with a
due deference to their faith. On the death of the Prince of Epirus,
however, Amurath could not resist the opportunity that then