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

We returned home at dinnertime. My mistress sat down at table with Pacheco, and dexterously turned the conversation on her private concerns. “My father,” said she, “is a younger branch of the Mendoza family, settled at Toledo, and my mother is own sister to Doña Kimena de Guzmán, who came to Salamanca some days ago on an affair of business, with her niece Aurora, only daughter of Don Vincent de Guzmán, whom possibly you might be acqainted with.”

“No,” answered Don Lewis; “but I have often heard of him, as well as of your cousin Aurora. Is it true what they say of her? Her wit and beauty are reported to be unrivalled.”

“As for wit,” replied Don Felix, “she certainly is not wanting, for she has taken great pains to cultivate her mind; but her beauty is by no means to be boasted of⁠—indeed we are thought to be very much alike.”

“If that is the case,” exclaimed Pacheco, “she cannot be behindhand with her reputation. Your features are regular, your complexion almost too fine for a man: your cousin must be an absolute enchantress. I should like to see and converse with her.”

“That you shall, if I have any interest in the family, and this very day, too,” replied the little Proteus of a Mendoza. “We will go and see my aunt after dinner.”

My mistress took the first opportunity of changing the topic and conversing on indifferent subjects. In the afternoon, while the two friends were getting ready to go and call on Doña Kimena, I played the scout, and ran before to prepare the duenna for her visitors. But there was no time to be lost on my return, for Don Felix was waiting for me to attend Don Lewis and him on their way to his aunt’s. No sooner had they stepped over the threshold than they were encountered by the adroit old lady, making signs to them to walk as softly as possible. “Hush! hush!” said she, in a low voice; “you waken my niece. Ever since yesterday; she has had a dreadful headache, but is just now a little better; and the poor girl has been taking a little sleep for the last quarter of an hour.”

“I am sorry for this unlucky accident,” said Mendoza; “I was in hopes we should have seen my cousin; besides, I meant to have introduced my friend Pacheco.”

“There is no such great hurry on that account,” answered Ortiz, with a significant smile; “and if that is all, you may defer it till tomorrow.” The gentlemen did not trouble the old lady with a long visit, but took their leave as soon as they decently could.

Don Lewis took us to see a young gentleman of his acquaintance, by name Don Gabriel de Pedros. There we stayed the remainder of the day, and took our suppers. About two o’clock in the morning we sallied forth on our return home. We had got about half way, when we stumbled against something on the ground, and discovered two men stretched at their length in the street. We concluded they had fallen under the knife of the assassin, and stopped to assist them, if yet within reach of assistance. As we were looking about to inform ourselves of their condition as nearly as the darkness of the night would allow, the patrol came up. The officer took us at first for the murderers, and ordered his people to surround us; but he mended his opinion of us on the sound of our voices, and by favor of a dark lantern held up to the face of Mendoza and Pacheco. His myrmidons, by his direction, examined the two men, whom our fancies had painted as in the agonies of death; but it turned out to be a fat licenciate with his servant, both of them overtaken in their cups, and not dead, but dead drunk.

“Gentlemen,” exclaimed one of the posse, “this jolly fellow is an acquaintance of mine. What! do you not know Señor Guyomer the licentiate, head of our university? With all his imperfections he is a great character⁠—a man of superior genius. He is as staunch as a hound at a philosophical dispute, and his words flow like a gutter after a hailstorm. He has but three foibles in which he indulges: intoxication, litigation, and fornication. He is now returning from supper at his Isabella’s, whence, the more is the pity, the drunk was leading the drunk, and they both fell into the kennel. Before the good licentiate came to the headship this happened continually. Though manners make the man, honors, you perceive, do not always mend the manners.” We left these drunkards in custody of the patrol, who carried them safe home, and betook ourselves to our lodging and our beds.

Don Felix and Don Lewis were stirring about midday. Aurora de Guzmán was the first topic of their conversation. “Gil Blas,” said my mistress to me, “run to my aunt, Doña Kimena, and ask if there is any admission for Señor Pacheco and me today, we want to see my cousin.”

Off I went to acquit myself of this commission, or rather to concert the plan of the campaign with the duenna. We had no sooner laid our heads together to the purpose intended, than I was once more at the elbow of the false Mendoza. “Sir,” quoth I, “your cousin Aurora has got about wonderfully. She enjoined me from her own lips to acquaint you that your visit could not be otherwise than highly acceptable, and Doña Kimena desired me to assure Señor Pacheco that any friend of yours would always meet with a hospitable reception.”

These last words evidently tickled Don Lewis’s fancy. My mistress saw that the bait was swallowed, and prepared herself to haul the prey to shore. Just before dinner, a servant made his appearance from Señora Kimena, and said to Don Felix, “My lord, a man from Toledo has