Gil Blas, Alain-René Lesage [best romance ebooks .txt] 📗

embassies to a marvel. I am Don Lewis Pacheco. You may retire! I will find an opportunity of sending an answer.” The page vanished, and Aurora, shutting herself up with her waiting-maid and me, opened the letter, and read to us as follows:⁠—‘I have just heard of your being at Salamanca. With what joy did I receive the news! I thought I should have gone out of my senses. But do you love Isabella as well as ever? Lose no time in assuring her that you are still the same. In good truth, she will almost expire with pleasure when once she is assured of your constancy.’ ”

“This is a mighty passionate epistle,” said Aurora. “The heart that indited it has been caught in a trap. This lady is a rival of no mean capacity. No pains must be spared to wean Don Lewis from her, and even to prevent any future interview. The undertaking is difficult, I acknowledge, and yet there seems no reason to despair of the result.”

My mistress, taking her own hint, fell into a fit of musing; from which, having recovered as soon as she fell into it, she added: “I will lay a wager they are at daggers drawn in less than twenty-four hours.”

It so happened that Pacheco, after a short repose in his apartment, came to look after us in ours, and entered once more into conversation with Aurora before supper. “My dapper little knight,” said he with a rakish air, “I fancy the poor devils of husbands and lovers will have no reason to hug themselves on your arrival at Salamanca. You will make their hearts ache for them. As for myself, I tremble for all my snug arrangements.”

“I tell you what!” answered my mistress with congenial spirit, “your fears are not without their foundation. Don Felix de Mendoza is rather formidable, so take care what you are about. This is not my first visit in this country; the ladies hereabouts, to my knowledge, are made of penetrable materials. About a month ago my way happened to lie through this city. I halted for eight days, and you are to know⁠ ⁠… but you must not mention it⁠ ⁠… that I set fire to the daughter of an old doctor of laws.”

It was evident enough that Don Lewis was disturbed by this declaration. “Might one without impropriety,” replied he, “just ask the lady’s name?”

“What do you mean by impropriety?” exclaimed the pretended Don Felix. “Why make any secret about such a matter as that? Do you think me more of a Joseph than other young noblemen of my standing? Have a better opinion of my spirit. Besides, the object, between ourselves, is unworthy of any great reserve, she is but a little mushroom of the lower ranks. A man of fashion never quarrels with his conscience about such obscure gallantries, and even thinks it an honor conferred on a tradesman’s wife or daughter when he leaves her without any. I shall, therefore, acquaint you in plain terms, that the name of the doctor’s daughter is Isabella.”

“And the doctor himself,” interrupted Pacheco impatiently⁠ ⁠… “he possibly may be Señor Murcia de la Llana?”

“Precisely so,” replied my mistress. “Here is a letter sent me just now. Read it, and then you will see how deeply your humble servant has dipped into her good graces.”

Don Lewis just cast his eye upon the note, and recognizing the handwriting, was struck dumb with astonishment and vexation.

“What is the matter?” cried Aurora, with an air of surprise, keeping up the spirit of her assumed character. “You change color! God forgive me, but you are a party concerned in this young lady. Ah! plague take my officious tongue for having opened my affairs to you with so much frankness.”

“I am very much obliged to you for it for my own part,” said Don Lewis, in a transport made up of spite and rage. “Traitress! Jilt! My dear Don Felix, how shall I ever requite you! You have restored me to my senses when they were just on the wing for an eternal flight. I was tickling myself into a fool’s paradise of credulous love. But love is too cold a term to express my extravagances. I fancied myself adored by Isabella. The creature had wormed herself into my heart by feigning to give me her own. But now I know her clearly for a coquette, and as such despise her as she deserves.”

“Your feelings on the occasion do you infinite credit,” said Aurora, testifying a friendly sympathy in his resentment. “A plodding pettifogger’s worthless brood might have gorged to surfeit on the love of a young nobleman so captivating as yourself. Her fickleness is inexcusable. So far from taking her sacrifice of you in good part, it is my determination to punish her by the keenest contempt.”

“As for me, rejoined Pacheco, I shall never set eyes on her again; and if that is not revenge, the devil is in it.”

“You are in the right,” exclaimed our masquerading Mendoza. “At the same time, that she may fully understand how ineffably we both disdain her, I vote for sitting down, each of us, and writing her a sarcastic farewell. They shall be enclosed in one cover, and serve as an answer to her own letter. But do not let us proceed to this extremity till you have examined your heart; it may be you will repent hereafter of having broken off with Isabella.”

“No, no,” interrupted Don Lewis, “I am not such a fool as that comes to; let it be a bargain, and we will mortify the ungrateful wretch as you propose.”

I immediately sent for pen, ink, and paper, when they sat themselves down at opposite corners of the table, and drew up a most tender bill of indictment against Doctor Murcia de la Llana’s daughter. Pacheco, in particular, was at a loss for language forcible enough to convey his sentiments in all their acrimony; away went exordium after exordium, to the tearing and maiming of