Gil Blas by Alain-René Lesage (best romance books of all time TXT) 📕

“At these words, her tears flowed in fresh torrents, and stifled her lugubrious accents. She took out her handkerchief, and, throwing it over her face, fell into a chair, like a person overcome by her affliction. Old Marcos, who was perhaps one of the most tractable go-betweens in the world, could no longer steel his heart against so touching a spectacle. Pierced to the quick, he even mingled his tears with those of his mistress, and spoke to her in a softened tone: ‘Ah! madam, why are you thus bewitching! I cannot hold out against your sorrowful complaints; my virtue yields under the pressure of my pity. I promise you all the relief in my power. No longer do I marvel at the oblivious influence of passion over duty, since mere sympathy can mislead my footsteps from its thorny paths.’

“Thus did this pander, whose past life had been one continued series of faithful service and exemplary conduct, sell himself to the devil to feed Mergelina’s illicit flame. One morning he came and talked over the whole business with me, saying, at his departure, that he had a scheme in his head, to bring about a private interview between us. At the thought, my hopes were all rekindled; but they glimmered tremblingly in the socket at a piece of news I heard two hours afterwards. A journeyman apothecary in the neighborhood, one of our customers, came in to be shaved. While I was making ready to trim his bushy honors, he said, ‘Master Diego, do you know anything about your friend, the old usher, Marcos de Obregón? Is not he going to leave Doctor Oloroso?’

“I said, ‘No.’

“ ‘But he is,’ though, replied he; ‘he will get his dismission this very day. His master and mine were talking about it just now in my hearing, and their conversation was to the following effect:

“ ‘ “Señor Apuntador,” said the physician, “I have a favor to beg of you. I am not easy about an old usher of mine, and should like to place my wife under the eye of a trusty, strict, and vigilant duenna.”

“ ‘ “I understand you,” interrupted my master. “You want Dame Melancia, my wife’s directress, and indeed mine for the last six weeks, since I have been a widower. Though she would be very useful to me in housewifery, I give her up to you, from a paramount regard to your honor. You may rely upon her for the security of your brow; she is the phoenix of the duenna tribe⁠—a spring-gun and a mantrap set in the purlieus of female chastity. During twelve whole years that she was about my wife, whose youth and beauty, you know, were not without their attractions, I never saw the least semblance of manhood within my doors. No, no! By all the powers! That game was not so easily played. And yet I must let you know that the departed saint, Heaven rest her soul! had in the outset a great hankering after the delights of the flesh; but Dame Melancia cast her in a new mould, and regenerated her to virtue and self-denial. In short, such a guardian of the weaker sex is a treasure, and you will never have done thanking me for my precious gift.” Hereupon the doctor expressed his rapture at the issue of the conference; and they agreed, Señor Apuntador and he, on the duenna’s succeeding the old usher on this very day.’

“This news, which I thought probable, and turned out to be true, disturbed the pleasurable ideas, just beginning to flow afresh, and renovate my soul. After dinner, Marcos completed the convulsion, by confirming the young drug-pounder’s story: ‘My dear Diego,’ said the good squire, ‘I am heartily glad that Doctor Oloroso has turned me off; it spares me a world of trouble. Besides that it hurt my feelings to be invested with the office of a spy, endless must have been the shifts and subterfuges to bring you and Mergelina together in private. We should have been rarely gravelled! Thanks to Heaven, I am set free from all such perplexing cares, to say nothing of their attendant danger. On your part, my dear boy, you ought to be comforted for the loss of a few soft moments, which must have been dogged at the heels by a thousand fears and vexations.’

“I relished Marcos’ sermon well enough, because my hopes were at an end⁠—the game was lost. I was not, it must be confessed, among the number of those stubborn lovers who bear up against every impediment; but though I had been so, Dame Melancia would have made me let go my hold. The established character of that duenna would have daunted the adventurous spirit of a knight-errant. Yet, in whatever colors this phoenix of the duenna tribe might have been painted, I had reason to know, two or three days afterwards, that the physician’s lady had unset the mantrap and spring-gun, and given a stop to this watchdog of lubricity. As I was going out to shave one of our neighbors, a civil old gentlewoman stopped me in the street, and asked me if my name was Diego de la Fuenta. I said, ‘Yes.’

“ ‘That being the case,’ replied she, ‘I have a little business with you. Place yourself this evening at Doña Mergelina’s door; and when you are there, give a signal, and you shall be let in.’

“ ‘Vastly well!’ said I, ‘what must the signal be! I can take off a cat to the life: suppose I was to mew a certain number of times!’

“ ‘The very thing,’ replied this Iris of intrigue; ‘I will carry back your answer. Your most obedient, Señor Diego! Heaven protect the sweet youth! Ah! you are a pretty one! By St. Angès, I wish I was but sweet fifteen, I would not go to market for other folks!’ With this hint, the old procuress waddled out of sight.

“You may be sure this message put me in no small flutter.