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.