CONTINUATION OF THE STORY OF THE LOVES OF THE COUNT DE BELFLOR AND
LEONORA DE CESPEDES.
Don Luis, (continued Asmodeus), on returning to his apartment, dressed
himself hastily, and, while it was still early, repaired to the Count;
who, not suspecting a discovery, was much surprised by this visit.
On the old man's entrance, however, Belflor ran to meet him, and,
embracing him cordially, exclaimed, "Ah Signor Don Luis; I am delighted
to see you. To what do I owe this happiness? Am I so fortunate as
to have an opportunity of serving you?" "Signor," replied Don Luis
sternly, "I would speak with you alone."
Belflor desired his attendants to withdraw; and as soon as they
were seated, "Signor," said Cespedes, "I come to ask of you an
explanation of circumstances in which my honour and happiness are
deeply interested. I saw you this morning leaving the apartment of my
daughter. She has disguised nothing from me: she informed that----"
"She has told you that I love her," interrupted the Count, to avoid
hearing what he knew could not be very agreeable; "but she can but have
feebly described all that I feel for her. I am enchanted with her; she
is an adorable creature: beauty, wit, virtue,--nothing is wanting to
perfect her charms. I am told you have a son, too, who is finishing his
studies at Alcala: does he resemble his sister? If he have her beauty,
and have at all inherited the noble bearing of his father, he must be a
perfect cavalier. I die with anxiety to see him; and I assure you that
I shall be proud to advance his fortunes."
"I am obliged to you for so kind an offer," gravely replied Don Luis;
"but to return to the subject of----" "He must enter the service at
once," again interrupted the Count: "I charge myself with the care of
his interests: he shall not grow old among the crowd of subalterns;
on that you may depend." "Answer me, Count!" replied the old man
vehemently, "and cease these interruptions. Do you intend, or not, to
fulfil the promise----?" "Yes, certainly," interrupted Belflor for
the third time; "I engage faithfully to support your son with all
the interest I possess: rely on me; I am a man of my word." "This is
too much, Count," cried Cespedes, rising: "after having seduced my
daughter, you dare thus to insult me! But I also am a noble; and the
injury you have done me shall not remain unpunished." In finishing
these words, he left the Count, his heart swelling with anger, and his
mind tormented with a thousand projects of revenge.
[Illustration: Don Luis de Cespedes interviews Belflor]
On arriving at home, still greatly agitated, he immediately went to
Leonora's apartment, where he found her with Marcella. "It was not
without reason," said he, addressing them, "that I was suspicious of
the Count: he is a traitor; but I will avenge myself. For you, you
shall at once hide your shame within a convent: both of you, prepare
to leave this house to-morrow; and thank Heaven that my wrath contents
itself with so moderate a punishment." He then left them, to shut
himself in his cabinet, that he might maturely reflect on the conduct
it would be proper to observe in so delicate a conjuncture.
How poignant was the grief of Leonora, when thus informed of Belflor's
perfidy! She remained for some time motionless; a death-like paleness
overspread her lovely features; life itself seemed about to abandon
her, and she fell senseless into the arms of her governante. The
alarmed duenna at first thought that the victim of her intrigues
was really dead; but, on perceiving that she still breathed, used
every effort to restore her to consciousness, and at last succeeded.
Existence, however, had no longer charms for Leonora; and when,
somewhat recovered, she unclosed her eyelids, and perceived the
officious governante busy about her person, "Cruel Marcella!" she
exclaimed, sighing deeply; "wherefore have you drawn me from the happy
state in which I was? Then, I felt not the horror of my destiny. Why
did you not let me perish? You, who know so well that life henceforth
must be but one long misery, why have you sought to preserve it?"
The duenna endeavoured to console her, but her words only added to
Leonora's sufferings. "It is in vain you would comfort me," she cried,
"I will not hear you: strive not to combat my despair. Rather seek to
add to its profundity; you, who have plunged me into the frightful
gulph in which all my hopes are swallowed:--you it was who assured
me of the Count's sincerity; but for you I had never yielded to my
passion for him; I should have insensibly triumphed over it, or at
least, he would never have had cause to boast of my weakness. But no!
I will not," she continued, "attribute to you my misfortunes; it is
myself alone I should accuse. I ought not to have followed your advice,
in accepting the faith of a man, without the sanction of my father.
However flattering to me were the attentions of Count de Belflor, I
should have despised them, rather than have endeavoured to secure them
at the price of my honour: I should have mistrusted him, you! Marcella,
and myself. For my folly in listening to his perfidious oaths, for the
affliction I have caused to the unhappy Don Luis, and for the dishonour
I have brought upon my family, I detest myself; and, far from fearing
the state of seclusion with which I am menaced, I would willingly
conceal my guilt and shame in the most frightful dungeon in the world."
[Illustration: Marcella tries to console Leonora]
While her grief thus vented itself in exclamations, and tears streamed
from her eyes, she frantically tore her clothes, and revenged the
injustice of her lover on the beautiful locks which fell around her
neck. The duenna, also, to appear in keeping with her mistress's
grief, was not sparing of grimaces; she managed to squeeze out some
convenient tears, and directed a thousand imprecations against mankind
in general, and against Belflor in particular. "Is it possible," she
cried, "that the Count, who had all the semblance of amiability and
rectitude, should be so great a villain as to have deceived us both?
I cannot get over my surprise, or rather, I cannot even yet persuade
myself that he is so."
"Indeed," said Leonora, "when I picture him myself at my feet, what
maiden could but have confided to so much tenderness,--to his oaths,
which he so daringly called on Heaven to witness,--to his boundless
transports, which seemed so sincere? His eyes to me discovered a love
far more intense than his lips could express; and the very sight of me
appeared to charm him:--no, he did not deceive me; I cannot believe
it. My father has not spoken to him with sufficient caution; they have
quarrelled, and the Count has replied to his reproaches less as the
lover than the lord. Still, may I not deceive myself? I will, however,
end this horrible suspense. I will write to Belflor,--tell him I expect
him here this night: I am resolved he comes to reassure my troubled
heart, or to confirm, himself, his treachery."
Marcella loudly applauded this resolution; she even conceived a hope
that the Count, all ambitious as he was, might yet be affected by the
tears of his Leonora, which could not fail at this interview, and that
he might determine on espousing her in truth.
Meanwhile, Belflor, relieved of the presence of Don Luis, was revolving
in his mind the probable consequences of the reception he had given to
the good old man. He felt certain that all the Cespedes, enraged at
the injury he had done their family, would unite to avenge it: this,
however, gave him but little trouble; the possible loss of Leonora
occasioned him far greater anxiety. She would, he imagined, at once be
placed in a convent, or, at least, that she would be carefully guarded
from his sight; and that she was consequently lost to him for ever.
This thought afflicted him; and he was occupied in devising some means
to prevent so great a misfortune, when his valet entered the apartment,
and presented a letter which Marcella had placed in his hands. It was
from Leonora, and ran as follows:--
"MY STILL DEAREST BELFLOR,
"I shall to-morrow quit the world, to bury myself in a convent.
Dishonoured, odious to my family and to myself, such is the deplorable
condition to which I am reduced by listening to you. Still I will
expect you to-night. In my despair, I seek new tortures: come, and
avow to me that your heart disowned the protestations which your lips
have made to me; or come to confirm them by your sympathy, which alone
can soften the harshness of my destiny. As there may, however, be
some danger in this meeting, after what has passed between you and my
father, be sure you are accompanied by a friend. Although you have
rendered life worthless to me, I cannot cease to interest myself in
thine.
"LEONORA."
While the Count perused this letter, which he read over several times,
his imagination depicted the situation of Leonora, in colours more
sombre even than the reality, and he was deeply affected. He bitterly
reflected on his past conduct: reason, probity, honour, all whose laws
he had violated in the phrenzy of his passion, now regained their
empire in his breast. The blindness which selfishness inflicts upon
its victims was dissipated; and as the fevered convalescent blushes for
the follies which, in the access of his disorder, he has committed, so
was Belflor ashamed of the meanness and artifice of which he had been
guilty to satisfy his lust.
"What have I done?" he cried; "wretch that I am, what demon has
possessed me? I promised Leonora to espouse her, and called on Heaven
to witness for the lie; I falsely told her that the King had designed
me for another; lying, treachery, perjury,--I have hesitated at nothing
to corrupt innocence itself. What madness! Oh! had I used, to control
it, the efforts I have made to gratify my passion! To seduce one of
whose beauty and virtue I was unworthy, to abandon her to the wrath
of her relations, whom I have equally dishonoured, and to plunge her
in misery as a return for the happiness she bestowed on me,--what
ingratitude! Ought I not then to repair the injury I have inflicted?
Yes, I ought, and I will; my hand shall at the altar fulfil the pledge
I gave for it. Who shall oppose me in so righteous a determination?
Should her tenderness for me at all prejudice her virtue? No, I know
too well what that cost me to vanquish. She yielded less to my love
than to her confidence in my integrity, and to my vows of fidelity.
But, on the other hand, if I resolve on this marriage, I make a great
sacrifice,--I, who may pretend to the heiresses of the richest and most
noble houses in the kingdom, shall I content myself with the daughter
of a respectable gentleman, of small fortune? What will they think of
me at court? They will say that I have made a splendid alliance indeed!"
Belflor, thus divided between love and ambition, knew not how to
resolve; but although undetermined whether he should marry Leonora
or not, he had no difficulty in making up his mind to see her that
evening, and at once directed his valet so to inform Marcella.
Don Luis was all this time in his cabinet, engaged in reflections on
the mode he should adopt to vindicate his honour; and he was not a
little embarrassed in his choice. To have recourse to the laws, was to
publish his disgrace, besides which, he suspected with great reason
that justice was likely to be one side, and the judges on the other.
Again, he dared not to seek reparation of the King himself; as he
believed that prince had views with regard to Belflor which must render
such an application useless. There remained, then, but his own sword
and those of his friends, and on these he concluded to rely.
In the heat of his resentment, he at first meditated a challenge to the
Count; but on consideration of his great age and weakness, he feared
to trust his arm; so resolved to confide the matter to his son, whose
thrust he thought was likely to be surer than his own. He therefore
sent one of his domestics to Alcala, with a letter commanding his son's
immediate presence in Madrid, to revenge, as he stated it, an insult
offered to the family of the Cespedes.
"This son, Don Pedro, is a cavalier of eighteen years of age, perfectly
handsome, and so brave, that he passes at Alcala for the most valiant
student of that university; but you know him," added the Devil, "and I
need not enlarge on the subject." "I can answer," said Don Cleophas,
"for his having all the valour and all the merit that can adorn a
gentleman."
"But this young man," resumed Asmodeus, "was not then at Alcala, as
his father imagined. Love had brought him also to Madrid, where the
object of his passion resided; and where he had met her for the first
time, on the Prado, on the occasion of his last visit to his family.
Who she was, he knew not: and his fair conquest had exacted of him a
pledge that he would take no steps to inform himself on this head,--and
although he was as good as his word, it cost him some trouble to keep
it. I need hardly add, that she was of higher rank than her lover; and
that, wisely mistrusting the discretion and constancy of a student--no
offence to your highness--she thought proper to test him as to these
necessary qualifications for a suitor, before she disclosed to him her
station or name."
[Illustration: portrait of Don Pedro]
His thoughts were, of course, more occupied by his lovely incognita
than with the philosophy of Aristotle; and the vicinity of Alcala to
Madrid occasioned the youthful Pedro to play truant to his studies
as frequent as yourself; but, I must say, with a better excuse than
your Donna Thomasa afforded. To conceal from his father, Don Luis, his
amorous excursions, he usually lodged at a tavern at the other end of
the town, where he passed under a borrowed name; and only went abroad
at a certain hour in the morning, that he might repair to a house where
the lady, for the love of whom he neglected his Ovid, did him the
honour to wait, in company with a trusty female attendant. During the
rest of the day he shut himself up in his hotel; but as soon as night
was come, he wandered fearlessly throughout the city.
He happened one evening, as he was traversing a bye-street, to hear the
sound of instruments and voices, which attracted his attention, and he
stopped to listen. It was a serenade, and tolerably performed; but the
cavalier, who was drunk, and naturally brutish, no sooner perceived our
student than he hurried towards him, and, without preface,--"Friend,"
said he, with an insolent air, "make yourself scarce; or your curiosity
may find you more than you expect." "I would have withdrawn," replied
Don Pedro, proudly, "had you requested me to do so with civility; but
I shall now stay, to teach you better manners." "We shall see, then,"
said the serenading gallant, drawing his sword, "which of us two will
give place to the other."
Don Pedro also drew his sword, their weapons were crossed in a moment,
and a furious combat ensued; but although the Student's adversary was
not wanting in skill, he could not parry a mortal thrust of Don Pedro,
and fell dead upon the pavement. The musicians, who had already quitted
their instruments, or stopped their singing, and had drawn their swords
to protect their patron, now came in a body to avenge his death, and
attacked Don Pedro all together. He, however, gave them satisfactory
proofs of what he could do upon occasion; for, besides parrying, with
surprising dexterity, all the thrusts which they designed for him, he
dealt furiously among them, and found work for them all to protect
themselves.
Still, they were so numerous, and apparently so determined on the
Student's death, that, skilful as he was with his weapon, they would
have most probably accomplished their object, had not the Count de
Belflor, who was accidentally passing through the street, come to his
assistance. The Count was of too noble a nature to see so many armed
men striving against one man to hesitate upon the part he should take.
His sword was therefore instantly directed against the musicians, and
with so much vigour that they were soon put to flight, some wounded,
and the others for fear they should be.
The field thus cleared, the Student, with what breath remained to him,
began to express his sense of the valuable service he had so seasonably
received; but Belflor at once stopped him: "Not a word, my dear Sir,"
said he; "are you not wounded?" "No," replied Don Pedro. "Then let
us leave this place at once," said the Count: "I see you have killed
your man; and it will be dangerous to stay in his company, lest the
officers of justice surprise you." They immediately decamped as quickly
as possible, and did not stop until they had gained a street at some
distance from the field of battle.
Don Pedro, filled with a natural gratitude, then begged the Count not
to conceal from him the name of a person to whom he owed so great an
obligation. Belflor made no difficulty in complying with this request;
but when in turn he asked that of the Student, the latter, unwilling to
discover himself to any person in Madrid, replied, that he was Don Juan
de Maros, and that he should eternally bear in his remembrance the debt
of gratitude which he owed to the Count.
[Illustration: the swordfight]
"Well," said Belflor to him, "I will this night give you an
opportunity of repaying it in full. I have an appointment, which is not
without risk; and I was about, when I fell in with you, to seek the
protection of a friend. However, I know your valour, Don Juan: will you
accompany me?" "To doubt it, were to insult me," replied the Student:
"I cannot better employ the life you have preserved, than in exposing
it in your defence. Go! I am ready to follow you." Accordingly, Belflor
conducted Don Pedro to the house of Don Luis, and they both entered, by
the balcony, the apartment of Leonora.
Here Don Cleophas interrupted the Devil: "Signor Asmodeus," said he,
"impossible! What! not know his own father's house? No, no, no; that
will never do." "It was not possible he should know it," replied
the Demon; "for it was a new one: Don Luis had lately changed his
habitation, and had only taken this house a week before; which was just
what Don Pedro did not know, and was what I was just going to tell you
when you stopped me. You are too sharp; and have that shocking habit of
displaying your intelligence by interrupting people in their stories:
get rid of that fault, I pray you."
"Well," continued the Devil, "Don Pedro did not think he was in his
father's house; nor did he even perceive that it was Marcella who let
him into it; since she received him without a light, in an antechamber,
where Belflor requested his companion to remain while he was in the
next room with his mistress. To this the Student made no demur; so
quietly sat himself down in a chair, with his drawn sword in his hand
for fear of surprise, while his thoughts ran on the favours which he
suspected love was heaping on the Count, and his wishes that he might
be as happy with his incognita,--for although he had no great cause of
complaint as to her kindness, still it was not exactly paid after the
kind of that of Leonora for the Count."
While he was making, upon this subject, all those pleasing reflections
which occur so readily to an impassioned lover, he heard some one
endeavouring quietly to open a door, which was not that of The
Delights, but one which discovered a light through the keyhole. He rose
quickly, and advanced towards it; and, as the door opened, presented
the point of his sword to his father; for he it was who entered
Leonora's apartments, for the purpose of seeing that the Count was not
there. The good old man did not exactly suppose, after what had passed,
that his daughter and Marcella would dare to receive him again, which
had prevented his assigning to them other chambers; but he had thought
it probable that, as they were to go to a nunnery on the following day,
they might desire to converse with him, for the last time, ere they
left his roof.
"Whoever thou art," said the Student, "enter not this room, or it may
cost thee thy life." At these words, Don Luis stared at Don Pedro,
who also regarding the old man with attention, they soon recognised
each other. "Ah! my son," cried the old man, "with what impatience
have I expected you: why did you not inform me of your arrival? Did
you fear to disturb my rest? Alas! that is for ever banished, in the
cruel situation in which I am placed." "Ah, my father!" said Don Pedro,
utterly amazed, "is it you whom I behold? Are not my eyes deceived
by some fantastic vision?" "Whence this astonishment?" replied Don
Luis; "are you not within your father's house? Have I not, a week ago,
informed you where to find me?" "Just Heaven!" cried the Student, "what
do I hear?--and this then is my sister's apartment."
As he finished these words, the Count, whom the noise had alarmed,
and who expected that his escort was attacked, came out, sword in
hand, from Leonora's chamber. No sooner did the old man perceive him
than, with fury in his eyes, he pointed to Belflor, and exclaimed to
his son,--"There is the villain who has robbed me of my happiness,
and who has stained our honour with a mortal taint. Revenge! Let us
hasten to punish the traitor!" As he thus vented his rage, he opened
his dressing-gown, and drew from beneath it his sword, with which he
was about to fall on the Count, when Don Pedro restrained him. "Stay,
my father," said he; "moderate, I entreat you, the fury of your wrath:
what are you about to do?" "My son," replied the old man, "you withhold
my arm. You doubtless think it is too weak to revenge our wrongs. Be
it so! Do you then exact full satisfaction for the injury he has done
us: it was for this purpose that I summoned you to Madrid. Should you
perish, I will take your place; for either shall the Count fall beneath
our arms, or he shall take from both of us our lives, after having
blasted our reputation."
"My father," said Don Pedro, "I cannot yield to your impatience that
which it requires of me. Far from attempting the life of the Count,
I am now here to defend it. For that my word is pledged,--to that my
honour is assured. Let us depart, Count," continued he, addressing
himself to Belflor. "Ah! wretch," interrupted Don Luis, while he
surveyed his son with anger and astonishment,--"thus to oppose thyself
to a vengeance, which it should be the business of thy life to
accomplish! My son, my own son, is leagued, then, with the villain who
has corrupted my daughter! But think not to escape my resentment: I
will place a sword in the hand of every servant in my house, to punish
his treachery and thy despicable meanness."
[Illustration: Don Pedro restrains Don Luis from attacking Belflor]
"Signor," replied Don Pedro, "be more just towards your son. Call him
not despicable or mean--he merits not those odious appellations. The
Count this night saved my life. He proposed to me, in ignorance of my
real name, to accompany him here; and I freely consented to share the
perils he might run, without knowing that my gratitude imprudently
engaged my arm against the honour of my family. My word is passed,
then, here to defend his life; that done, I stand acquitted of my
obligation towards him: but I am not the less insensible of the wrong
that he has done to you and to us all; and to-morrow you shall find
that I will as readily shed his blood, as you behold me now determined
to preserve it from your hands."
The Count had witnessed in silence all that passed, so much was
he surprised at this extraordinary adventure; he now, however,
thus addressed the Student: "It is possible that the injury I have
inflicted might be but imperfectly avenged by your sword; I will,
therefore, present to you a means much more certain of repairing it.
I will confess to you that, until this day, I did not intend to marry
Leonora; but I this morning received from her a letter which touched
my heart, and her tears have finished what her letter began. The
happiness of being united to your sister is now my dearest hope." "But
if the King has destined you for another," said Don Luis, "how can you
dispense----?" "The King has not troubled himself upon the subject,"
interrupted Belflor, blushing: "pardon, I beseech you, that fiction,
to a man whose reason was deranged by love; it is a crime that the
violence of my passion incited me to commit, and which I expiate in
avowing to you my shame."
"Signor," replied the old man, "after this frankness, which belongs
only to noble minds, I cannot doubt your sincerity. I see, with joy,
that you are anxious to repair the injury you have done us; my anger
yields to this assurance of your contrition; I will forget it for ever
in your arms." He advanced towards the Count, who rushed to meet him,
and they embraced each other cordially. Then, turning towards Don
Pedro, "And you, false Don Juan," said Belflor,--"you, who have already
gained my esteem by your valour, come, let me vow to you a brother's
love." Don Pedro received the Count's embraces with a submissive and
respectful air, saying, "Signor, in offering to me so valuable a
friendship, you secure mine for yourself: rely on me, as one devoted to
your service to the last moment of his life."
While these cavaliers were thus discoursing, Leonora was at the door of
her chamber, intently listening to every syllable they uttered. She had
been, at the first, tempted to discover herself, and to throw herself
in the midst of their swords; but fear, and Marcella, had withheld
her. But when the adroit duenna saw that matters were arranging very
amicably, she guessed that the presence of her mistress, and her own,
would spoil nothing. Accordingly, she appeared, her handkerchief in one
hand and her ward in the other; and, with tears in their eyes, they
prostrated themselves before Don Luis. Neither of them, indeed, felt
perfectly assured; for they recollected the surprise of the previous
night, and feared the old man's reproaches for this renewal of their
disobedience. However, raising Leonora,--"My child," said he, "dry your
tears; I will not upbraid you now: since your lover is disposed to keep
the faith he has sworn to you, it is fitting that I should forget the
past."
"Yes, Signor Don Luis," interrupted Belflor, "I will indeed keep my
faith with Leonora; and as some amends for the insult I had intended,
as the fullest satisfaction I can give to you, and as a pledge of that
friendship I have vowed to Don Pedro, I offer him in marriage my sister
Eugenia." "Signor!" cried Don Luis, "how can I express my satisfaction
at the honour you confer upon my son? Was ever father happier than
myself? You overpay me, in joy, for the grief you have caused me."
[Illustration: Don Luis raises Leonora]
Though the old man was charmed with the Count's proposals, I cannot say
as much for his son. Being sincerely taken with love for his incognita,
he was so overcome with surprise and chagrin at Belflor's offer, that
he had not a word to say for himself; when the latter, who did not
observe his embarrassment, took leave, stating that he should at once
order the necessary preparations for this double union, and that he was
impatient to be bound to them eternally, by ties so endearing.
After his departure, Don Luis left Leonora with the duenna, taking
with him his son, who, when they had reached his father's apartment,
said, with all the frankness of a student: "Signor, do not insist, I
pray you, on my marriage with the Count's sister; it is enough for
the honour of our family, that he should espouse Leonora." "What! my
son," replied the old man, "can you have any objection to an union with
Eugenia de Belflor?" "Yes, my father," said Don Pedro; "I must confess
to you, that union would prove to me the most cruel of punishments; and
I will not disguise from you the reason. I love, or, rather, I adore
another: for the last six months she has listened to my vows: and now,
on her alone depends the happiness of my life."
"How miserable is the condition of a father!" exclaimed Don Luis: "how
rarely does he find his children disposed to do as he desires them. But
who is this lady that has made such deep impression on your heart?"
"That, I do not yet know," replied Don Pedro. "She has promised to
inform me of her name when I shall have satisfied her of my constancy
and discretion; but I doubt not she does honour to one of the noblest
houses of Spain."
"And you think then," said the old man, changing his tone, "that I
shall be so obliging as to sanction this romantic love!--that I shall
permit you to renounce an alliance, as glorious as fortune could offer
to you, that you may remain faithful to an illustrious lady of whose
very name you are ignorant! Do not expect so much of my kindness. No,
rather strive to vanquish feelings that are inspired by an object which
is most probably unworthy of them; and seek, in so doing, to merit the
honour which the Count proposes for you." "You speak to me in vain,
my father," replied the Student; "I feel that I can never forget her
whom I have sworn to love--unknown though she be,--and that nothing
can tear me from her. Were the Infanta proposed to me----" "Hold!"
cried the old man angrily; "it is too much to boast thus insolently of
a constancy which excites my displeasure: leave me, and let me not see
you again until you are prepared to obey my will."
Don Pedro did not dare to reply to these words, for fear of hearing
others more unpleasant still; so he retired to his chamber, where he
passed the remainder of the night in reflections in which sorrow was
not all unmixed with joy. He thought with grief that he was about to
estrange himself from his family, by refusing the hand of Belflor's
sister; but then he was consoled, when he reflected that his incognita
would worthily esteem the greatness of the sacrifice. He even flattered
himself that, after so convincing a proof of his fidelity, she would
no longer conceal from him her station, which he imagined also must be
equal at least to that of Eugenia.
In this hope, as soon as day appeared, he went out, and directed his
steps towards the Prado, that he might pass away the time until the
hour of his meeting with his mistress. With what impatience did he
count the minutes as they lingered,--with what joy did he hail the
happy moment when it arrived!
He found his fair unknown with Donna Juanna, the lady at whose house
they met; but alas, he found her in tears, and apparently in the
deepest affliction. What a sight for a lover! His own grief was
forgotten: he approached her with tenderness; and throwing himself on
his knees before her, "Madam," he exclaimed, "what must I think of the
condition in which I see you? What dreadful misfortune do these tears,
which pierce my heart, forbode?" "You dream not," she replied, "of
the fatal news I bring you. Cruel fortune is about to separate us for
ever;--yes! we shall meet no more."
[Illustration: Don Pedro kneels before his fair unknown]
She accompanied these words with so many and such heart-rending sighs,
that I know not if Don Pedro was more affected at what she told him,
than at the affliction with which she appeared oppressed in telling it.
"Just Heaven!" he cried, in a transport of fury, which he could not
control, "is it thy will that they prevent an union whose innocence
is worthy of thy protection? But, Madam," he continued, "you are
perhaps falsely alarmed! Is it certain that they would snatch you from
the most faithful of lovers? Can it be possible that I should be so
unhappy?" "Our misfortune is but too certain," answered the Unknown;
"my brother, upon whom my hand depends, has bestowed it this very day;
he has this moment announced to me his decision." "And who is the happy
man?" exclaimed Don Pedro. "Tell me! In my despair I will seek him,
and----" "I do not know his name," interrupted the Unknown. "I cared
not to ask, nor did my brother inform me; he told me indeed that it was
his wish that I should first see the cavalier."
"But, Madam," said Don Pedro, "will you then yield without resistance
to your brother's will? Will you be dragged to the altar, without
complaint? Will you go, a willing sacrifice, and abandon me so easily?
Alas! I have not hesitated to expose myself to the anger of a father
for love of you; nor could his menaces for a moment shake my fidelity.
No! nor threats, nor persuasion, could move me to espouse another,
although the lady he proposed for me was one to whom I had hardly
dared aspire." "And who is this lady?" asked the Unknown. "She is the
sister of the Count de Belflor," replied the scholar. "Ah, Don Pedro!"
cried the Unknown, with extreme surprise, "surely, you are mistaken;
it cannot be she whom they propose to you. What! Eugenia, the sister
of Belflor? Are you sure of what you say?" "Yes, Madam," replied the
Student; "the Count himself offered me her hand." "How!" cried she,
"is it possible that you are the cavalier for whom my brother designs
me?" "What do I hear?" cried the Student in his turn, "is it possible
that my incognita is the Count de Belflor's sister?" "Yes, Don Pedro,"
replied Eugenia. "But I can hardly believe it myself, at this moment;
so difficult do I find it to persuade myself of the happiness you
assure to me."
Don Pedro now fell again at her feet, and seizing her hand, he kissed
it with all the transport that lovers only can feel who pass suddenly
from the depths of despair to the highest pinnacle of hope and joy.
While he abandoned himself to the feelings of his heart, Eugenia for
the first time forgot her reserve, and freely returned his caress--she
felt that her love was sanctioned, and gave, her lips where her heart
had long been engaged. "Alas!" said she, when her love could form
itself into words, "what tortures had my brother spared me, had he
but here named the husband of his choice! What aversion had I already
conceived for my future lord! Ah, my dear Don Pedro, how I have hated
you!" "Lovely Eugenia," replied he, "what charms has that hatred for me
now! I will endeavour to merit it by adoring you for ever."
After the happy pair had exhausted love's vocabulary, and the tumult
of their hearts was somewhat calmed, Eugenia was anxious to know by
what means the Student had gained her brother's friendship. Don Pedro
did not conceal from her the amours of the Count and his sister, and
related all that had passed the night before. It was for Eugenia an
additional pleasure to learn that Belflor was to marry the sister of
her own lover. Donna Juanna was too much interested in the welfare of
her friend not to partake of her joy for this happy event, and warmly
congratulated her, as also Don Pedro thereon. At last the lovers
separated, after having agreed that they should not appear to know each
other when they met before the Count and Don Luis.
Don Pedro returned to his father, who, finding his son disposed to
obey him, was the more pleased, inasmuch as he attributed this ready
compliance to the firm manner in which he had spoken to him overnight.
They presently received a note from Belflor, in which he informed them
that he had obtained the King's consent to his marriage, as also for
that of his sister with Don Pedro, on whom his Majesty had been
pleased to confer a considerable appointment. He added, so diligently
had his orders for the nuptials been executed, that everything was
arranged for their taking place on the following day; and he came soon
after they had received his letter, to confirm what he had written, and
to present to them his sister Eugenia.
[Illustration: Belflor presents Eugenia]
Don Luis received the lady with every mark of affection, and Leonora
kissed her so much that her brother was almost jealous--although,
whatever he might feel, he managed to constrain his love and delight,
so as not to give the Count the least suspicion of their intelligence.
As Belflor remarked his sister with great attention, he thought he
could discover, notwithstanding her reserve, which he attributed to
modesty, that Don Pedro was by no means displeasing to her. To be
certain, however, he took an opportunity of speaking to her aside, and
drew from her an avowal of her entire satisfaction. He then informed
her of the name and rank of her intended, which he would not before
communicate, lest the inequality of the stations should prejudice her
against him; all which she feigned, marvellously well, to hear as for
the first time.
At last, after many compliments, which were remarkable for their
sincerity, it was resolved that the weddings should take place at the
house of Don Luis the next day, as Belflor had arranged. They were
accordingly celebrated this evening, the rejoicing still continues,
and now you know why they are so merry in that house. Every one is
delighted--except the lady Marcella: she, while all else are laughing,
is at this moment in tears. They are real tears too, this time! for
the Count de Belflor, after the ceremony, informed Don Luis of the
facts which preceded it; and the old gentleman has sent the duenna to
the _Monasterio de las Arrepentidas_, where the thousand pistoles she
received for seducing Leonora will enable her to repent having done so
for the rest of her days.