CHAP. XVI.

_Guzman’s amours continued, and in what manner they ended._

I could well have slept until very late in the morning; but as two

ladies had inquired for me below, one of whom was so richly dressed that

my lackey was quite dazzled by her magnificent appearance, he came up

to my chamber and awoke me to announce this visit. I presently guessed

this must be the waiting-woman whom I had conversed with the day before,

who had kept her promise, by prevailing on her mistress to accompany her

to call upon me. I had no sooner desired my lackey to shew them in, than

a lady of handsome mien and figure entered the room, who by her elegant

deportment and easy manners, could not in my judgment be less than a

Marchioness or Countess. She seated herself in a chair at my bed side. I

sat up in my bed and bowed to her as respectfully as my situation would

admit of, begging her to excuse me for receiving her in this manner, and

adding that I had much rather offend in that respect, than allow a lady

of her quality and merit to wait a moment at the door. “No more

apologies,” said she, “but let us come to the point and content my

curiosity: How long have you been in Toledo? what has brought you

hither? shall you make a long stay in this place?”

These questions, unexpected as they were, were by no means embarrassing

to me, for I had a most fruitful invention on such occasions; I,

therefore, made up so fine a story of my birth and prospects in life,

that I completely succeeded in convincing her of my high quality. One

truth, however, escaped me in the course of conversation, which spoiled

all the effect of my lies; instead of saying that I intended to stay at

least three or four months at Toledo, I told her that I had merely

visited it for a few days’ diversion. I instantly perceived that this

was not exactly agreeable to her hopes. She had evidently formed some

design upon me, which these words disconcerted; and looking upon me, in

consequence, as a mere bird of passage, whom she should soon lose sight

of for ever, she resolved to pluck me as well as she was able before we

parted.

To accomplish her object, therefore, the first thing she did was to

throw off her veil, in an easy and graceful manner, discovering a face

of perfect beauty, and taking great pains to display her delicate white

hands and a part of her neck. She then, with a negligent air, drew from

her pocket a fine coral rosary, to which were attached several relics,

gold crosses and precious stones, and without appearing to have any

design in it, kept playing with this rosary all the while she was

talking as though she were not aware of what she was doing, but all of a

sudden she left off speaking in the middle of a sentence, looked at me

with surprise, and began feeling her pockets with anxiety which seemed

to increase every moment. I inquired the cause of her uneasiness, but

instead of answering me she began to look on the floor, and every where

that she could think of; then calling her servant who was in waiting at

the chamber door: “Marcia,” said she, “I have lost the great cross

belonging to the chaplet which my husband gave me; how unfortunate I am!

he will certainly think I have made a present of it to some one.”

“Madam,” replied the waiting-woman, “you are perhaps premature in your

sorrow. You may possibly have left it at home, and I even fancy that I

recollect to have seen it in one of your drawers.” “I can never rest

until I be convinced of this,” replied the lady. “Let us therefore

return home immediately, for I cannot bear to remain in doubt on such a

subject.”

All my efforts to detain her were unavailing. I represented to her that

there might be found many similar rosaries at a Goldsmith’s, and that,

if she would allow me, I would presume to send her one as soon as

possible; but she would not accept of my offer, requesting me, in an

engaging manner, to allow her to depart; assuring me, that whether she

found her cross at home or not, she would not fail to pay me a visit the

next day at the same hour. Upon this she quitted my chamber, leaving me

well pleased with her figure, and much grieved at her so precipitate

departure.

It was no longer possible to think of sleeping after such an interview,

so that I lay and reflected on my good fortune, and the pleasures that I

anticipated, until it was time for dinner. I then rose and dressed

myself, after which I sat down to a small table, and partook of a

variety of dishes sufficient for six persons. In the middle of my

repast, Marcia returned, and informed me with a mournful countenance

that the golden cross could not be found; “and what is still more

vexatious,” added she, “my mistress accuses me of being the cause of

this misfortune, and I must allow that I was rather too pressing this

morning to make her dress herself quickly to come and see you. I have

been to a Goldsmith’s out of curiosity, to see if I could not find a

cross of the same description, and have been fortunate enough to meet

with one that resembles it as nearly as possible.” I soon understood her

meaning, and wishing to be thought generous, I answered, that if she

would wait until I had dined, I would accompany her to the Goldsmith’s,

and purchase the cross which she had seen. As this was, in fact, the

sole object of her coming, she replied, that she would do just as I

pleased; then beginning to praise her mistress, she told me all that was

charming of her.

After dinner we repaired to the Goldsmith’s together, and purchased the

aforesaid cross, which I gave to Marcia, requesting her to tell her

mistress, that as I considered myself in some degree the cause of her

loss, it was my duty to repair it. This faithful servant, overjoyed at

her good success, immediately departed, after having assured me that she

would make her lady acquainted with my generous way of proceeding, and

that she was sure her mistress would not fail to see me next day,

personally to return thanks for my kindness.

As soon as Marcia had left me, I determined to avail myself of this

opportunity to see my lady in St. Cyprian-street again; for although I

had such good reason to believe that she was a cheat and her brother a

bully, yet I should have been glad to have found myself mistaken;

forgetting, therefore, the scurvy trick they had played me, I hastened

towards their house, and perceived my charmer at a window, whence I was

soon remarked. She made signs to me that she had company, but that I was

not to go away; I stopped, and about a quarter of an hour after, saw her

go out alone. I followed her at a distance, and observed her enter the

great church to shorten her way to Patten street, whence she went into

Mercer’s-street, and entered a shop, making signs to me to follow her,

which I obeyed. How admirably did she then play her part! She burst into

tears, which, I suppose, she had always ready at command, and

complaining to Heaven that she had so troublesome a brother, she assured

me of the extreme pain she had suffered on my account, swearing over and

over again that it had not been her fault that so untoward an adventure

had occurred to me: she then told me, that she hoped to recompense me

for my late unpleasant night by assuring me of a pleasant one; that her

brother was to set out immediately for the country, where he would

remain for at least two days, and she trusted, therefore, that I would

not refuse her invitation to spend that evening with her. She then spoke

to me with so much tenderness, that I was completely convinced of her

sincerity, and was weak enough to promise to see her at her own house

again as soon as it was dusk.

As she had entered this shop, she could not make up her mind to leave

it, without asking the prices and cheapening some trifles, as is

customary with women; and she agreed to purchase some of them for a

hundred and fifty reals; but instead of paying for them, she said to the

shopkeeper, “you will be kind enough to allow me to take these articles

with me now, and give me credit until to-morrow, when I will send my

waiting-woman to pay you.” The shopkeeper, who either did not know her

at all, or possibly was but too well acquainted with her, refused to

trust her; upon which Signor Guzman, always ready to please the ladies,

stepped forward and said to him, “my good friend, do you not perceive

that the lady is only in jest; she has not this sum at hand, but I carry

her purse, and have the honour to be her steward:” thus saying, I drew

it from my pocket in the most graceful manner, and paid the shopkeeper

his demand. After this we parted. “Adieu, my chicken,” said she, in a

languishing and tender manner; “remember that I shall expect to see you

at nine in the evening, but I absolutely forbid you to provide any

supper, for I must insist on being allowed to treat you this time.”

The hour of rendezvous, which I expected with the greatest impatience,

having at length arrived, I set out towards my charmer’s house, at the

risk of passing another night there in the tub. I now approached her

door again with as much eagerness as I had ran from it in the morning. I

made the signal we had agreed upon; but no answer. I repeated it; but

neither saw nor heard any one. I then began to fancy that the brother

had been informed of his sister’s design, and had not set off for the

country. Thinking it possible, however, that I had not given the signal

loud enough, which was to knock with a stone at the bottom of the lower

window, I redoubled my strokes; but I might as well have attempted to

make the bridge of Alcantara hear me. I then knocked several times at

the door, and put my ear to the key-hole to listen; but finding that

there was not the least noise to be heard in the house, I remained in

the street until midnight, quite at a loss to account for so

extraordinary a silence.

My patience, however, began at length to fail me, and I was just on the

point of returning, when I observed a company of armed men coming

towards me; and took the precaution to retire to the end of the street,

that I might notice them unobserved. They stopped at the door of my

nymph’s house, and rapped loudly; and as the people in the house

persisted in not answering them, they began to thunder at the door with

their staves, and would soon have shivered it to atoms, if a servant had

not appeared at one of the windows, and asked what was their business.

“Open,” cried an Alguazil, “open, at the summons of Justice.” At these

terrible words, I felt so alarmed, that I was tempted to scamper off as

fast as my legs would carry me, not knowing but it was for me they

looked; a culprit cannot behold these sort of people without emotion. My

courage returned, however, when I reflected that I could only be

considered the dupe of my princess and her pretended brother, whose

laudable conduct, had, according to all appearance, attracted the

attention of justice.

I even ventured to approach the house, as soon as the Alguazil and his

myrmidons had entered it; and joining the crowd of neighbours who had

collected in the street to see what was going on, I heard one among them

say to the rest, “They call themselves brother and sister; but they must

trace their pedigree from Adam, for they are no otherwise related. The

man is an adventurer of Cordova, who for some months past, has lived

here at Toledo with this woman who was formerly an actress at Seville,

at the expence of such young fools as fell into their hands; but

unfortunately for these two honest folks, they have been practising

their knaveries upon a scrivener, who has played them this trick to be

avenged on them.

At this relation, all the neighbours laughed heartily at the expence of

the scrivener, whom they knew to be but newly married: but, although

they were so glad to find that this limb of the law had been duped, they

did not the less applaud his vengeance on that account, so true is it

that nobody ever pities persons who are detected in dishonesty. It

seemed even a most agreeable comedy for the witnesses of this adventure,

when they saw the Alguazil and his officers leading to prison the lady

all in disorder, accompanied by her gallant well bound with cords. For

my own part, though I could not well forget her scurvy treatment of me

in the tub, yet I could not feel any pleasure in seeing this miserable

woman in her present deplorable situation: I was the only one of all the

spectators who felt any pity for her, though I had most reason to feel

none. Rejoiced, however, that I could no longer be her dupe, I returned

to my inn, fool enough still to flatter myself that the other lady would

not deceive me; but I waited, in vain, the whole of the next day at home

for her: I did not even see her servant again: so that being no longer

able to doubt that I was also gulled in that quarter, I resolved that in

future I would be more upon my guard against the fair sex.

The Life and Adventures of Guzman D'Alfarache, or the Spanish Rogue, vol. 2/3 · 第 22 / 42 题