The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (32 page)

BOOK: The Manuscript Found in Saragossa
7.2Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

At this the viceroy turned towards me and said, tenderly and respectfully, ‘I have not changed my mind on this matter and I am sure that adorable Elvira will not allow the blood of her children to be sullied by the milk of a paid wet-nurse.'

This proposition disconcerted me more than you could imagine. I clasped my hands together and said, ‘Your Excellency, in heaven's name, do not speak to me of such matters for they are beyond my understanding.'

The viceroy replied, ‘Señora, I am most sorry to have thus shocked your innocence. I shall continue with my story without making a similar mistake.'

And indeed he did continue as follows:

My frequent bouts of absent-mindedness led Granada society to believe that I had lost my sanity. There was indeed something in this. Or rather I seemed mad because my own madness was not of the same sort as that of my fellow-citizens. I would have been called wise if I could have brought myself to be the mad
embebecido
of some lady of Granada. However, a reputation for madness is not flattering and I decided to leave my native province. I was resolved to do this for yet another reason. I wanted to be happy with my wife and happy on her account. If I had married a lady from Granada she would have thought herself free to accept the homage of an
embebecido
on the authority of local custom. You have heard that that did not suit me at all.

So I decided to leave, and I went to court. There I found the same fatuous practices under different names. That of
embebecido
, which has today passed from Granada to Madrid, was not then used. The court ladies called their favoured but unrewarded lover their
cortejo
. They called
galanes
those who were even less well treated, rewarded at most with a smile and then only once or twice a month. But all their lovers without exception sported the colours of their lady and paraded alongside her carriage daily, raising a dust on the Prado that made the streets adjoining this beautiful promenade impossible to live in.

I had neither enough wealth nor high enough birth to be singled out at court. But I made my name there by my skill in fighting bulls. The king himself spoke to me on several occasions and grandees did me the honour of seeking my friendship. I was very well known to the Conde de Rovellas among others, but when I killed his bull he was unconscious and hence unable to recognize me. Two of his picadors certainly knew me well, but I must suppose they were busy elsewhere, otherwise they would not have failed to claim the thousand pieces of eight
1
promised by the count to the person who could give him information about his rescuer.

One day, when I was dining at the house of the Minister of
Haciendas
(or finance) I found myself sitting next to Don Enrique de Torres, your worthy husband, Señora. He had come to Madrid on business. It was the first time I had had the honour of speaking to him, but his manner inspired confidence and I soon turned the conversation to my favourite topic: that of marriage and affairs of the heart. I asked Don Enrique if the ladies of Segovia had
embebecidos, cortejos
or
galanes
, too.

‘No,' he replied. ‘Such figures have as yet not been accepted in our customs. When ladies go walking on the promenade known as Zocodover they are half-veiled, and it is not the custom to accost them whether they be on foot or in their carriages. Nor do we receive in our houses, except for the first visit by a gentleman or a lady, but it is the custom to spend the evenings on balconies which
are a little above the level of the street. The older gentlemen stop to speak to persons of their acquaintance, younger men wander from balcony to balcony and end their evening in front of a house where there is a marriageable girl.

‘But of all the balconies of Segovia,' added Señor de Torres, ‘mine receives the most homage thanks to my sister-in-law, Elvira de Noruña, who, as well as all the excellent qualities of my wife, possesses a beauty which is not equalled in all of Spain.'

Señor de Torres's speech made a deep impression on me. A person who was so beautiful, so richly endowed with excellent qualities and living in a part of the country where there were no
embebecidos
seemed to me to be destined to be the person who would make my happiness. Some Segovians whom I induced to speak on the same topic confirmed that Elvira's beauty was incomparable. So I decided to judge with my own eyes.

Even before I left Madrid my passion for Elvira had already grown. But so had my shyness. So that when I reached Segovia I could not bring myself to visit Señor de Torres or others whose acquaintance I had made in Madrid. I would have liked someone to predispose Elvira in my favour as I had been predisposed in hers. I envied those whose great name or brilliant qualities herald their arrival and I thought that if I failed to make a favourable impression on Elvira at our first meeting it would be impossible for me to be preferred in her eyes to the others.

I spent several days at my inn, seeing no one. At last I had myself shown the street in which Señor de Torres lived. I saw a board on the house opposite and asked there whether there was a room to let. I was shown one under the roof. I was lodged there for two reals a month. I took the name of Alonzo and said that business had brought me to Segovia.

But in fact all the business I did was confined to peeping through a blind. Towards evening I saw you emerge with the incomparable Elvira. Dare I say it – I thought at first that she was no more than an average beauty. But after a short glance I clearly saw that the perfect harmony of her features did make her seem less strikingly beautiful, though as soon as she was compared to another woman her superiority was clear. I would even go so far as to say to you, Señora de Torres,
who were very beautiful, that you could not stand comparison with her.

From my attic room I was pleased to note that Elvira was perfectly indifferent to all the homage paid to her and that she seemed even bored by it. But this observation took away all desire to swell the numbers of her admirers – that is to say, those gentlemen who bored her. So I decided to observe from my window until some favourable opportunity arose to make myself known. If I am perfectly honest, I was placing my hopes on bullfights.

As you will remember, Señora, I had then quite a good voice and could not resist the desire to make it heard. When all the suitors had returned to their homes I went down into the street and, accompanied by my guitar, sang a
seguidilla
as well as I could. I did this several evenings in a row and observed in due course that you did not retire from the balcony until you had heard my song. This filled my heart with ineffably sweet feelings, which were, however, still far from being feelings of hope.

I then learnt that Rovellas had been banished to Segovia. This made me despair. I did not for a moment doubt that he would fall in love with Elvira, nor was I wrong. Thinking himself still in Madrid, he declared himself openly to be the
cortejo
of your sister, took her colours, or what he imagined her colours to be, and embroidered them on his livery. From high up in my attic I was for long a witness of his fatuousness and impertinence and it gave me great pleasure to see that Elvira judged him on his personal attributes rather than the splendour with which he surrounded himself. But he was rich and on the point of becoming a grandee. What could I offer which could compete with such advantages? Perhaps nothing. Indeed I was so convinced of this and loved Elvira so selflessly that I ended up by wishing sincerely that she would marry Rovellas. I gave up all thought of introducing myself and stopped singing my tender
tiranas
.
2

Meanwhile Rovellas expressed his passion only by his gallant behaviour. He made no formal approach to obtain Elvira's hand. I even learned that Señor de Torres intended to retire to Villaca. I had become used to the agreeableness of living opposite his house in town
and decided to enjoy the same advantage in the country. I went to Villaca and assumed the name of a
labrador
from Murcia. I bought the house opposite yours and furnished it in my own taste. But since lovers in disguise are always easy to recognize, I had the idea of fetching my sister from Granada and passing her off as my wife, which, it seemed to me, would dispel any suspicions. When I had made all these arrangements I went back to Segovia, where I learnt that Rovellas was preparing to stage a magnificent bullfight. But, Señora de Torres, you then had a two-year-old son. Might I not have news of him?

Aunt Torres remembered that this child was the same muleteer whom the viceroy had proposed condemning to the galleys an hour before, and was at a loss to reply. She drew out her handkerchief and burst into tears.

‘Please forgive me,' said the viceroy. ‘I can see that I have revived some cruel memories. But for me to continue my story I must speak to you of that unfortunate child.

‘As you will remember, he was then suffering from smallpox. You showered the tenderest attentions on him and I know that Elvira too would spend days and nights at the bedside of the young patient. I could not resist the pleasure of letting you know that there was another mortal who shared your grief. So every night, close to your windows, I would sing some melancholy romances. Do you remember this, I wonder, Señora de Torres?'

‘I remember it very well,' she replied. ‘Only yesterday I was telling this lady about it.'

The viceroy then continued.

The illness of Lonzeto was talked about all over town, for it was the cause of the delay in the festival of bullfighting. The child's recovery gave rise to universal rejoicing. The festival took place. It did not last long, for Rovellas was severely mauled by the first bull. When I plunged my sword into the animal's side, I looked up to your box and saw Elvira leaning towards you and speaking about me with an expression on her face which gave me pleasure. Meanwhile I disappeared into the crowd.

The next day Rovellas had recovered somewhat and asked for Elvira's hand in marriage. It was said that he had been refused. He averred that he had been accepted. But as I learned that you were preparing to leave for Villaca I myself concluded that he had been refused. I left myself for Villaca, where I took on all the habits of a
labrador
, driving my cart myself or at least pretending to, for in fact I left all that to my farm-hand.

After some days, as I was following my oxen home, with my sister, who was taken for my wife, on my arm, I caught sight of you with Elvira and your husband. You were sitting at the front door of your house drinking chocolate. You recognized me, as did your sister, but I did not reveal who I was. But to excite your curiosity I had the cunning idea, as I went into my house, of playing some of the songs which I had played to you during Lonzeto's illness. I was only waiting to be sure that Elvira had refused Rovellas before declaring my love.

‘Ah, Your Excellency,' said Maria de Torres, ‘it is true that you had succeeded in attracting Elvira's attention and it is a fact that she had refused Rovellas. If she did in fact marry him afterwards it was perhaps because she believed you to be married.'

‘Señora,' said the viceroy, ‘providence no doubt had other plans for my unworthy person. Indeed, if I had obtained Elvira's hand in marriage, the Assiniboins and the Chiricahua Apaches would not have been converted to Christianity and the cross, the holy sign of our redemption, would not have been planted three degrees north of the Mar Bermejo.
3
'

‘That may be so,' said Maria de Torres. ‘But my sister and husband would still be alive. None the less, Excellency, please continue your story.'

A few days after you came to Villaca, a special messenger from Granada informed me that my mother was dangerously ill. Love gave way to filial affection, so I left with my sister. My mother's illness
lasted two months. She breathed her last in our arms. I mourned her not long enough perhaps and then went back to Segovia, where I learned that Elvira had become the Condesa de Rovellas. I learned at the same time that the count had promised a reward of a hundred pieces of eight to anyone who revealed the identity of his rescuer. I replied by an anonymous letter and left for Madrid, where I sought employment in America. I obtained this and left as soon as I could. My stay in Villaca was a mystery known only to my sister and myself, or so I believed. But our servants are born spies who miss nothing. A valet, who would not follow me to the New World, entered Rovellas's service and told the whole story of the house at Villaca and my disguise. He confided in the chambermaid of the duenna major of the countess. She in turn told the duenna, and the duenna, to ingratiate herself through her diligence, told the count. He, putting together the disguise, the anonymous letter, my skill in bullfighting and my departure for America, reached the conclusion that I really had been the lover of his wife. In due course I was informed of all these facts, but on my arrival in America I was astonished to receive the following letter:

Señor Don Sancho de Peña Sombra!

I have been told of the secret affair you have had with the infamous person whom I no longer recognize as the Condesa de Rovellas. You may, if you think it fitting, send for the child which will be born to her. As for me, I will shortly be following you to America, where I hope that I shall see you for the last time in my life.

This letter drove me to despair. And my grief could not have been greater when I learned of the death of Elvira, your husband and Rovellas, whom I had hoped to convince of his injustice. Meanwhile I did all that was in my power to refute the calumny and establish the rights of his daughter. I therefore took a solemn oath to marry her as soon as she was old enough to be married. Having fulfilled this duty, I believed myself at liberty to seek the death which my religion did not allow me to inflict on myself.

A savage people allied to Spain were then at war with their neighbours. I had myself accepted into the tribe. To be admitted, I
had to allow a tattoo of a serpent and tortoise to be pricked on to my whole body with a needle. The head of a serpent was drawn on my right shoulder, its body wound round mine sixteen times, with the end of its tail inscribed on the toe of my left foot.

During the ceremony the savage who does the drawing deliberately pricks the bones of the leg, and other sensitive parts, and the recipient is not allowed to let out the slightest cry. As I was being tortured in this way, the war cries of the savages who were our enemy were already resounding in the plain, and my tribe intoned a chant of death. I tore myself free from the hands of the priests, armed myself with a mace and rushed into battle. We brought back two hundred and thirty scalps and I was chosen to be cacique on the battlefield. Two years later the tribes of the New World had been converted to Christianity and brought under the crown of Spain. You must know more or less the rest of my story. I have reached the highest dignity to which a subject of the King of Spain can be raised. But, dear Elvira, I must tell you that you will never be the wife of a viceroy. It is the policy of the Council of Madrid not to permit a married man to have such great power in the New World. At the moment at which you deign to marry me, I shall cease to be viceroy. All I can lay at your feet is my title of grandee of Spain and a fortune about which I shall give you a few details. It will be held in common.

When I had conquered the two provinces to the north of New Mexico the king granted me the right to exploit a silver mine of my choosing. I took as my associate a private citizen from Vera Cruz. In the first year we shared a dividend of three million piastres fortes. However, as the grant was in my name I received six hundred thousand piastres more than my associate in the first year.

Other books

Stepbrother Fallen by Aya Fukunishi
The Madness of Gods and Kings by Christian Warren Freed
Vulture's Gate by Kirsty Murray
The Longest Night by Andria Williams
A Killing at the Creek by Nancy Allen
Claimed by the Wolf by Saranna DeWylde
A Bad Boy For Summer by Blake, Joanna
The Real Liddy James by Anne-Marie Casey
Brown-Eyed Girl by Virginia Swift
Indignation by Philip Roth