_Sequel and conclusion of this fine Intrigue._
When I returned home, I thought myself obliged to give my counsellor
Sayavedra an account of my fortune that day; even to the minutest
particulars. After having listened to me with the greatest attention, he
said to me: “Every thing goes well, and I do not doubt but the lady will
fall into our snares.” “Friend,” said I, “a prudent man is always in
doubt about the event.
“When I think of the excess of my good luck, when I consider all the
advantages of it, and please my imagination that in the course of two
days I have reached the very summit of my wishes, I fear that fortune
has hitherto flattered my sanguine expectation, but to spoil and
confound my rash undertaking by some sad disaster.” “True it is,”
replied my confidant, “that the promises of hope are often fallacious,
but yet sometimes they must be fulfilled.”
I slept more soundly that night than the last, and as soon as I rose the
next day I sent the present of sweat-meats I had received from the Grand
Duke, except some fruits and a bottle of wine, to my beautiful Brunette,
thinking I could not make a better use of it. I added to it gloves, and
all sorts of ribbons, which I had ordered Sayavedra to choose and buy
for me. My present pleased the widow exceedingly, as well as the note I
sent with it, and to which I was told she would in the evening give me
an answer by word of mouth, at the lady’s house, who expected to see me.
Unluckily the hour appointed for that visit was nearly the same I had
promised to be at court to finish the lessons of the two dances which
the Duchess had began to learn with me. To conciliate matters, I
resolved to go somewhat sooner than I was expected to the Princess’s, in
the hope of thus being able still to keep my appointment with the lady
also. I was mistaken in my reckoning; her Highness, who had a great
desire to make herself perfect in those two dances, made me dance them
so often with her, that it was not possible for me to take my leave of
her for that happy assignation, the hour of which to my great sorrow was
already passed, and caused within me the most expressive signs of
impatience.
The Duchess perceived it, notwithstanding all my endeavours to
dissimulate. “What is the matter,” said she, “there is something that
makes you uneasy. I see what it is, your widow makes you think the
rehearsal rather too long; is it not so?” I plainly confessed the truth,
and owned the cause of my uneasiness, thinking by that she would let me
go sooner, but she did not. On the contrary she ordered me to remain
with her; but, rather than lose my company, she sent for my lovely
widow, ordering the messenger to make my excuses, and taking all the
blame upon herself. Nothing could be more gracious; I returned her
Highness my thanks in the most grateful terms, and then recovering my
usual gaiety, I repaid so much kindness, by saying a thousand pleasant
sallies, which made my conversation very agreeable to the Princess. When
the amiable Brunette came, extremely pleased with the honour the Grand
Duchess had done her, her Highness told her that she had sent for her to
make amends for the pleasure she had been deprived of while she
detained me; then caressing the lady on my account, she said so many
obliging and tender things in my favour, that it put me in confusion. We
three then began a little ball, till the hour fixed for the great one,
which no sooner arrived than we entered the ball-room, and as long as it
lasted my mistress and I did nothing but exert ourselves to make our
court to her Highness, who was fond of seeing us dance together. From
that very night our mutual love became public; every one looked upon us
as a couple of happy lovers. My rivals alone thought otherwise.
The next morning I paid my widow the visit I was to have made her the
day before. I found that lady in company with two of her friends, whom
out of decency she had desired to be there, but who knowing well our
mutual inclination, gave us opportunity to whisper our sentiments to one
another; I heard from the lovely mouth of my peerless brunette, that
from the very first minute she saw me, she had felt for me, what in vain
her other lovers had endeavoured to inspire her with. In a word, I might
without affectation think myself tenderly beloved. As there was no gala
at the palace that day, their Highnesses being gone to honour an
important wedding in the city with their presence, my visit lasted the
longer. How many empassioned expressions escaped me! how many tender and
obliging words did she favour me with! and how happy were we in each
other’s company!
It was late when I returned home. I was completely in love, and my mind
so enraptured with fine ideas, that I could scarcely speak. Sayavedra
suffered me to remain sometime overcome by this charming intoxication;
but seeing that my interest required it should be removed: “My dear
master,” said he, “you indulge yourself too much with the fair prospect
of your amorous intrigues; you forget that we are in a town much
frequented by travellers. You may chance to meet here somebody returning
from Rome, and who may know you. Every minute you run the risk of being
discovered. Take my advice and come to the point; know soon from your
mistress, how far your lucky stars will carry you, and lose no more time
like a whining lover.”
The prudence of my confidant restored me to my senses, and the next day
I resolved to call upon my widow, fully determined to ask her consent to
our marriage. I was afraid of spoiling all by being too hasty, and it
was but with a trembling voice I entreated her to complete my happiness.
Far, however, from opposing the impatient desire I evinced to become her
husband; she confessed ingenuously that her intentions being similar to
mine, she had not the least wish for delay. “See my relations in the
first place,” she continued; “ask their approbation, and after you have
paid them that compliment, my consent shall not be wanting.” I threw
myself at her feet in an extacy of love and joy, and taking her hand
without any resistance on her part, I kissed it with rapture. I then
entreated her to seal her promise by accepting of a small ring that I
had on my finger. It was a pretty diamond, and extremely well set. She
consented to it, and suffered me to put it on her finger, on condition
that I should receive one from her in return. After this we talked as
freely together as if we were already married. Indeed I believe I might
have that very day attained the summit of my felicity, if I had been
more bold; but besides that I was extremely fearful of giving offence,
by betraying any guilty desires, I was too much in love, and had too
much esteem for her, to be capable of such rashness.
When I returned from the house of my enamoured widow, and informed
Sayavedra of the result of my last conversation with her, shewing him
the token of the promise she had given me, a tear of joy sparkled in his
eye. “Cheer up,” cried he, “the wind blows fair; you sail before it;
proceed and enter the port. Do not fail to-morrow to visit your dear
widow’s relations, for I am fully persuaded they will give their
consent.” There was no need to encourage me to it. My mistress had told
me their names, and described their characters, that I might the better
know how to address myself to each of them in particular. Two of them I
knew already, who were about the same age as myself, and I made no doubt
of securing them in my interest. But there were some grave, phlegmatic
greybeards among them, of whom I was afraid. However I saw them all that
very morning. The two young sparks said presently that they consented
with all their hearts, if my addresses were agreeable to their cousin.
The uncles were not so easily prevailed upon. They said it was a family
affair; that they would have a meeting soon, and would let me know in a
day or two what had been resolved. Nothing was more prudent than this
proceeding, and whatever sorrow such delay occasioned me, I could find
no pretence to complain.
I went after dinner to my mistress to give her an account of all these
visits. She told me it was enough; she expected the answer I met with,
and that we might in the mean time regulate all the marriage ceremonies
and the wedding concerns, to have it performed with all the splendour
suitable to persons of our quality; as there was no doubt that their
Highnesses would honour us with their company. After three days waiting,
two of my future spouse’s relations called upon me with an answer in the
name of the rest, saying they all approved of the honour I designed
their family, in entering into an alliance with their kinswoman, yet
they could wish of me, for the greater decency of the thing, that I
would condescend to engage my uncle the Ambassador to testify his
consent by a line to the Grand Duke, and a note out of courtesy to the
family to ask their approbation. I was sadly vexed at these conditions,
but collecting all my spirits to conceal the disorder I was in, I
replied with unparalleled assurance, that if that was all that prevented
our marriage, they should be soon satisfied. I promised to get from the
Ambassador not only general, but particular letters to every one of the
relations. As to the Grand Duke, I told them I expected every post a
letter from my uncle to His Highness, to desire his protection in the
affair of my marriage, having written to the Ambassador about it
already. The gentlemen were mightily pleased with this answer, and took
leave of me, fully relying upon the performance of my promise.
Thus had I brought a pretty load upon my shoulders with these letters,
and the recommendation of the Ambassador. Had I attempted by a letter to
beg of him to make my fortune, in owning me for his nephew, God knows
how his Eminence would have caused me to be treated by the Grand Duke at
Florence, and in what fine style he would have recommended me. Therefore
I was by no means whatever inclined to adopt such a plan; I rather
preferred, and indeed it was the only resource left to me, to make the
last effort, by prevailing upon my mistress to marry me instantly. I
flew to her house as soon as her old relations had left me; accosted her
with a sad countenance, and related what had passed between us, and how
I saw myself doomed to die with impatience. “This delay,” said my widow,
“will not be so dreadful as you may think.” “Excuse me, Madam,” said I,
with the greatest emotion, “I may easily obtain from the Ambassador to
write in my favour to the Grand Duke, and to your relations; I may
venture to say that he will give this proof of his regard for his
nephew. But allow me to tell you, his temper is the cause of my fear. He
has too much prudence and delicacy not to get information first about
your family, and even about yourself, dear Madam, if I may venture the
word, for fear it might be only the amour of a young man. Such an
inquiry will require time that will appear an eternity to me, and almost
maddens me to think of.” I then expressed my sentiments on the subject,
in a manner which I cannot now detail; for when a lover speaks from the
dictates of his heart, he expresses himself at the time much more
pathetically than he can afterwards describe to another.
All I now remember is, that my lovely widow was moved at my
representation of the sufferings I should endure by so long a delay; and
being perhaps no less impatient than I was to bend to the yoke of
matrimony, she replied, to comfort me, that she did not depend entirely
on her relations; that what she had done was for decency’s sake, and out
of respect to them. “I only desire three days respite,” she continued,
“to get the consent of such of my relations as are the best disposed to
it, and if unluckily they all oppose my design, we may be married
privately, and leave them and Monsieur Ambassador to settle their
business together afterwards by themselves.” It was not possible for me
to hear words more kind, and my whole frame was in a rapture. In a word
I shewed myself so sensible of her goodness to me, that I threw her into
great disorder, and the lady would have willingly spared me the three
days to hasten my felicity.
Who would have supposed that a day so agreeable would have been followed
by the most fatal of my life! The next morning I rose to go to the
Church called _Annunciata_, one of the finest in the city, to hear Mass.
Hither all the fashionable people of both sexes used to resort. I met
there one of my mistress’s young relations, who was inclined to the
match. I accosted him, and we insensibly fell into a conversation upon
my intended marriage with his cousin. Whilst I was talking with him, a
beggar, whom I had already sent away twice without deigning to look at
him, returned a third time to the charge to ask alms. Earnestly engaged
as I was, in conversation so interesting, I grew impatient, and struck
him in the face with my glove. “You rogue of a beggar, will you not let
me be in quiet for you?” The poor man, who expected quite a different
sort of treatment from me, gave me this answer: “Oh, Mr. Guzman, if you
had been treated thus when you were a beggar like me, you would not have
set up for a great Lord as you do now.” This man’s voice and words,
which I heard and knew distinctly, struck me to the heart; I turned my
head about, and remembered he was one of my dear comrades at Rome, when
I was one of their fraternity. I changed colour in an instant, I
blushed, and looked on him with eyes sparkling with rage and choler. But
so far from being dismayed at it, he laughed, and made mouths and
grimaces at me, and muttered something as he retired. All the gentlemen
that were round us, and especially one of my rivals who had heard in
what manner the beggar had spoken to me, and observed that I was out of
countenance at the sight of him, were quite surprised. My rival who had
more interest than any to know the bottom of this adventure, followed
the beggar to the Church door, where he stood to ask alms. He took him
aside, and after having slipped a few pieces of money into his hand,
asked him if he knew me, and how he dared venture to talk to me as he
had done. The poor man, resenting yet the blow I had given him, and
burning with anger against me, told him the whole history of my life,
from the time of my coming to Rome, to my leaving the Ambassador of
Spain.
This gentleman who had the greatest pretence of any of my rivals to the
hand of my mistress, rejoiced to hear such a singular piece of news, and
quite delighted with the information, he gave the beggar more pence, and
bade him come to his house after dinner, for a coat he meant to give
him; he also advised him to keep him out of the way for fear of me, who
might perhaps revenge the affront he had offered me in the very sight of
the church. As for him, he went up again to the widow’s kinsman, and
seeing that he was alone, for in the confusion I was in, I had thought
proper to leave him, he accosted him, and burning with impatience to
speak of me, he could not help giving him the information the beggar had
treated him with. The lady’s kinsman, somewhat disconcerted, only
answered that he could not believe a word of what the beggar had said,
who to all appearance took me for the wrong person.
The two gentlemen then separated; the kinsman with some suspicion that I
was not what I appeared to be, and my rival triumphing in having made a
discovery which was likely to rid him of his most dangerous opponent. It
was half past eleven, and consequently there was a great deal of company
at the palace, it being the time when His Highness sat down to dinner.
My rival soon appeared, and mixing among the company whom he thought
most jealous of the favours I enjoyed with their Highnesses, told them
as a secret all he knew of me, praying them, however, not to divulge
the adventure, under a strict charge of secrecy, on purpose, no doubt,
that they should be the more eager to tell it, as in effect it happened;
for in less than a quarter of an hour’s time, it came to the duke’s
ears. This prince only laughed at it at first, and when he heard it was
reported by one of my rivals, he took it for a tale invented by a
jealous lover incited to it by despair; yet with his usual prudence, and
as the Grand Duchess had behaved so kindly towards me, he was extremely
anxious to know the truth of it. He commanded the beggar to be brought
secretly before him to court, in order that he might hear him himself.
He was obeyed; the poor man came, and the duke from behind the hangings
heard the whole history without being seen. When the prince had listened
attentively to the noble recital of these rare adventures, he commanded
the beggar to be put in prison, where, however, he should be well used;
with an order that nobody should see or speak to him till he was
entirely satisfied on the subject.
If all this while I was not quite easy, at least I had not the slightest
suspicion of what was in agitation concerning me. It is true that the
cruel accident of the morning had caused me considerable concern; but I
expected that by giving a sum of money to the beggar, I should have
induced him to leave Florence, or at least obliged him to hold his
tongue. I even returned to Church as soon as Mass was over, in the hope
of finding him; but as he was not there I put off speaking to him till
the next day. As for what he had said to me, I was resolved to turn it
into a joke, if any one happened to speak about it, pretending that it
was an insolent rascal that had abused me for using him a little
scurvily. At last I had almost forgotten it, and went to court as I used
to do after dinner. I desired to see the duke, but I was told he was
engaged on particular private business. I then went to the apartments of
the duchess, who they said would see nobody, being a little indisposed,
and that there would not be any assembly that night. All this appeared
quite natural to me, and well enough pleased that I should have all the
afternoon and evening to pass with my widow, I flew to her house. There
I found the door crowded with her old relations’ footmen. I concluded
there was a meeting of them on occasion of our marriage; so I let them
alone, imagining my presence would disturb them. I made no stay there,
and not knowing what to do with myself, I went straight home, to wait
till the conference broke up. There I remained two hours, after which I
sent my faithful confidant to my mistress, to hear from her the event of
it. Sayavedra was told she was gone out. He went there again an hour
after, but the answer was, she could neither see nor speak to any one.
Now indeed a dreadful scene opened before my eyes, and my heart became a
prey to sorrow and vexation. My faithful squire endeavoured to comfort
me, but all his reasonings and consolation could not banish from my mind
the dismal thought that fear inspired me with. I went to bed without my
supper, and the next morning got up, having taken no rest during the
night. I was just going to send a note to my widow, to desire the favour
of her to let me know when I should come and see her, when my host
brought me word that two gentlemen of my acquaintance wanted to speak
with me upon business of some importance. I ordered that they should be
introduced. These gentlemen entered with a sedate and serious
countenance, and one of them addressing me said: “We are come out of
pure friendship to inform you that there runs a very odd report of you
at court and in the city. It is said that far from being a man of
quality, you have acted mean and different figures at Rome. In a word
you have been the Ambassador’s domestic, and not his kinsman, as you
pretend to be. We know not if the Grand Duke has heard of it yet:
however, we would advise you as friends not to go to court, but to
procure the Ambassador’s attestations in your favour as fast as you can,
and prove the falsity of reports so much to your dishonour.”
When this gentleman had concluded his speech, so mortifying to me, I was
thunderstruck, and ready to swoon away; my speech failed me when I began
to make an apology. I answered, however, that I could not have believed
my enemies could have carried their slander so far; but before the end
of the day, I would take post and go to Rome myself, to obtain authentic
attestations more than enough to confound the malicious plan of jealous
rivals. The two gentlemen approved of my resolution, and withdrew to
make their report to the Grand Duke; for it was by his order that they
had come to me, though they had pretended it was purely of themselves,
and out of kindness to me. They were no sooner gone than my trusty
friend entered the chamber, and guessing by my looks the afflicting news
I had to relate, felt the greatest grief when I told him what was the
matter. However, far from being cast down as I was by this misfortune,
he bore up against it, and with a firmness that astonished me. “Now
master,” said he, “you must shew yourself a man of courage and
stedfastness. Can you be surprised after having acted so delicate a part
as you have done in the eyes of all the world, that some mischance
should happen that gives a sad and gloomy turn to the plot of the play?
for my part I always expected it; but after all our fall is not so great
but we may rise again; thanks to your lucky stars, the free country is
left open before you; let us make use of our time, and immediately leave
Florence and the Duke’s territories, and betake ourselves elsewhere, to
comment at leisure on this change of fortune.”
This prudent reasoning restored me by degrees to my senses, and upon
reflection I could not help thinking that I had deserved to be treated
with more rigour than I had been. I told Sayavedra that his advice was
too good not to be followed, and if we could set out post within an
hour, it would be most desirable. “Nothing is so easy,” answered he;
“your horse is sold, we are not without cash, and have only therefore to
hire post horses, and begin our journey. Depend on me for providing
every thing for our departure.” “Well,” replied I, “my friend, do what
you think proper. Alas!” I continued, with a deep sigh, “could I but
once more see my beloved widow I should part contented!” I expected
Sayavedra would have opposed my desire, but on the contrary he assured
me that he would procure me that satisfaction before we were ready to
mount our horses.
While I was engaged in expressing to my confidant my satisfaction in
having met with a man so entirely devoted to my interest, my landlord
came and told me a young woman desired to speak with me. At first I
trembled for fear, for the least thing alarmed me, in the situation I
was in. However I recovered myself when I found this young woman was one
of my mistress’s waiting maids, who brought me a note from my widow,
containing these few words, “_I expect you at my Cousin’s to inform you
of circumstances of the utmost importance: farewell!_” I desired the
maid to tell her mistress I would call upon her immediately, and as soon
as she was gone, turning to Sayavedra: “See,” cried I, “what I wished
for is come to pass. I fear it will be painful to me to endure the
conversation of a lady I am so much in love with, and whom I shall never
see again. Be that as it may, however, I must see her, though I die for
it.” I charged Sayavedra accordingly, to settle every thing for me.
“Make not yourself uneasy,” said he, “about any thing, and you may
expect that in an hour and a half at the most, I shall be with the post
horses near about the house you are going to.”
Every thing being settled with Sayavedra, I hastened to my mistress. I
found her in a dishabille, which betrayed more of disorder than of
negligence; she looked dejected and pale; her eyes were still moist with
weeping; in a word she was so altered, that she was not like the same
person. On my part I was no less confused than herself. As soon as her
cousin perceived me enter the room, she withdrew.
Now that my mistress found herself alone with me, she raised her eyes
full of tears towards me and said, “Have you heard all the frightful
scandal that is reported of you in Florence?” “Yes,” said I, “I have
been informed what horrid slander my enemies have circulated against me,
and in an hour’s time I take horse to return to Rome, and in five or six
days I shall bring back such authentic proofs of the falsehood of their
calumnies as to confound them.” These words somewhat relieved her. She
then told me the substance of her relations’ conference held at her
house; all that the beggar had said; the terrible stories he had told of
me to all that asked him any thing about me; and concluded by
reprobating the curiosity of the Grand Duke who could condescend to
listen to so wretched a fellow himself.
I suffered the lady to talk as long as she chose, without interrupting
her; for I was so confused, that I could not immediately make any
answer to the purpose. I shrugged up my shoulders, raised my hands and
eyes to heaven, groaned, and made a thousand gestures, which persuaded
her much more of the falsity of these reports, than all the powers of
human eloquence. “Do not suffer yourself to be afflicted immoderately,”
said she with tenderness; “I have loved your person though your rank was
unknown to me, and were you not what I think you are, I feel that I
should still love you. Perhaps I should not have taken notice of the
charms that I have observed in you, had I looked upon you at first as a
person of low condition: my pride and my birth would not have suffered
me to cast my eyes on such a one; but having once seen those charms I
can never forget them.” Her generosity and tenderness had so powerful an
effect on me, that I fell down in a swoon. She thought I was dying, and
it was with the greatest difficulty that she had strength enough to
call her cousin, who had much ado to manage us both, and was obliged to
call in the assistance of one of the waiting women. A minute after these
two persons had succeeded in restoring me to my senses, I was told that
my valet was in the ante-chamber and my horses ready. It was then that I
found what it was to love, and felt the pangs of parting with the
beloved object. Never was there a more tender and moving farewell.
I was so little myself, and so full of sorrow when I left the house of
her cousin, that I did not see Sayavedra who stood directly before my
eyes, but passed by without speaking to him; he followed me, and
observing I was almost distracted, spoke not a word, but led me where
the horses waited for us. I mounted immediately, and galloped the whole
of the first stage without speaking a word: but at the second my squire
asked me if I had any object in travelling the road to Rome. I answered
that I wished it to appear that I was going to that city, but at the
next stage we would stop, and consult what was best to be done.