The Manuscript Found in Saragossa (31 page)
Read The Manuscript Found in Saragossa Online
Authors: Jan Potocki
Rebecca observed with some impatience that the story was always broken off just as it was reaching the most interesting point. Then we spoke of other matters. The cabbalist said that he had had news of the Wandering Jew, who had crossed the Balkans and would soon be in Spain. I can't remember what we did for the rest of that day, which is why I shall now pass to the next, which was more eventful.
I rose before dawn, and on a whim decided to walk to the disastrous gallows of Los Hermanos to see whether I might not find a new victim there. My journey was not fruitless. There was indeed a man lying between the two hanged men. He seemed as lifeless as they. I touched his hands, which were stiff but still retained a little warmth. I fetched some water from the river and threw it in his face. Seeing that he then gave some signs of life, I picked him up in my arms and carried him outside the gallows enclosure. He came to his senses, and stared at me with wild eyes. Then, breaking free from my grasp, he ran off into the countryside. I watched him for some time but, seeing that he would be lost to sight among the bushes and might stray into the wilderness, I felt bound to run after him and fetch him back. He turned round and, seeing me pursuing him, ran even faster â eventually falling over, giving himself an injury above the temple. I used my handkerchief to dress the wound and then tore off a bit of my shirt to bind his hand. Silently, he let me do this. Seeing that he was so docile, I felt that it was my duty to take him back to the gypsy camp. I offered him my arm, which he accepted, and he walked at my side without my being able to coax a single word out of him.
When I reached the cave everyone had assembled for breakfast. A place had been kept for me. Another was laid for the stranger and no one asked who he was. Such are the laws of hospitality which are rarely broken in Spain. The stranger took the chocolate beverage like a man in need of refreshment. The gypsy chief asked me whether my companion had been wounded by thieves.
âNot at all,' I replied. âI found this gentleman unconscious under the gallows of Los Hermanos. As soon as he came round, he ran off into the countryside. Fearing that he might lose his way in the heath land, I ran after him. The more I tried to catch up with him, the faster he ran to escape me. Which is why he did himself such an injury.'
At this, the stranger set down his spoon and, turning to me, said gravely, âSeñor, you express yourself badly. I suspect that you have not been inculcated with the right principles.'
You can well imagine what sort of effect these words had on me. But I kept my temper and replied, âSeñor caballero, whom I don't know, I venture to assure you that I have been brought up in the best possible way and that my education has been all the more essential to me in that I have the honour to be a captain in the Walloon Guards.'
âSeñor,' replied the stranger, âI spoke of the principles, about which you may have been taught, which govern the acceleration of heavy bodies when this occurs on an inclined plane. Actually, since you wanted to talk about my fall and give an account of its cause, you might have observed that, as the gallows was placed on top of a hill, I was running down an inclined plane, and from that you should have considered my path to be the hypotenuse of a right-angled triangle with its base parallel to the horizon, and its right angle formed by that same base and the perpendicular which met the point of the right angle, that is to say, the foot of the gallows. You might then have said that my acceleration along the inclined plane was to the acceleration I would have had by falling down the perpendicular as that same perpendicular was to the hypotenuse. It was an acceleration calculated in this way which led me to fall over so hard, not the fact that my speed increased because I was trying to escape from you. But all that doesn't prevent you being a captain in the Walloon Guards.'
With these words, the stranger took up his spoon and set about consuming the chocolate beverage again, leaving me uncertain how I ought to react to his reasoning and whether he had been serious or making fun of me.
Seeing that I was on the point of taking offence, the gypsy chief decided to change the subject and said, âThis gentleman, who seems very well instructed in geometry, must be in need of rest. It would be indiscreet to ask him to tell us anything today and that is why, if the company consents, I shall continue with the story I began yesterday.'
Rebecca said that nothing would please her more. And so the gypsy chief spoke as follows:
   THE GYPSY CHIEF'S STORY CONTINUED  Â
At the moment we were interrupted yesterday, I was just relating to you how my Aunt Dalanosa had come to tell us that Lonzeto had run off with Elvira, who was dressed as a boy, and how we were plunged into consternation by this news. Aunt Torres, who had lost both a niece and a son, was in an unimaginable state of distress. As for me, I thought that all that remained now that Elvira had abandoned me would either be to become the virreina in her place or to receive a beating that I feared more than death itself. I was contemplating these unpleasant alternatives when the major-domo came to tell me that it was time to go and offered me his arm to escort me downstairs. I was so persuaded in my mind of the necessity of becoming the virreina that I instinctively adopted a haughty air and took the major-domo's arm with such dignity and modesty that my aunts laughed in spite of their distress.
That day the viceroy did not prance alongside my litter. We met him again at the door of the inn at Torquemada. The favour I had bestowed on him the day before had emboldened him. He showed me the glove hidden in his bosom, he offered me his hand to help me down from the litter and gently squeezed and kissed mine. I could not prevent myself feeling a certain pleasure at being so treated by a viceroy, but the idea of the whipping which would probably follow all these signs of respect still troubled me.
We spent a short time in the apartment set aside for the ladies. Then dinner was announced. We were seated more or less as on the previous evening. The first course was eaten in complete silence. As the second was brought the viceroy turned to Señora Dalanosa and said:
âI have learnt, Señora, of the trick played upon you by your nephew and that impudent little muleteer. If we were now in Mexico they would soon be in my hands. Anyway, I have given orders for them to be pursued. If they are found, your nephew will be solemnly whipped in the courtyard of the Theatines and the muleteer will have a tour of duty in the galleys.'
The mention of the galleys and the thought of her son made Maria
de Torres faint on the spot, and the idea of being whipped in the Theatines' courtyard made me fall off my chair.
In coming to my assistance, the viceroy was most assiduous and gallant. I recovered somewhat and put on a brave enough face for the rest of the meal. When we had risen from table the viceroy, instead of escorting me to my apartment, led me, together with my two aunts, under the trees opposite the inn, sat us down and said:
âSeñoras, I notice that today you took exception to an apparent hardness which I seemed to possess and which I might be thought to have acquired in the course of the various offices of state I have occupied. It occurred to me also that all you could know about me relates to a very few aspects of my life whose course and guiding-force are unknown to you. It seems to me, therefore, that you will want to know the story of my life and that it would be fitting for me to relate it to you. I hope at least that by knowing me better you will no longer have the same fear of me as I witnessed today.'
Having said this, the viceroy fell silent and awaited our reply. We expressed our great desire to know him better. He thanked us for this token of interest in him and began as follows:
   THE CONDE DE PEÃA VÃLEZ'S STORY   I was born in the beautiful countryside around Granada, in a country house my father possessed on the banks of the romantic Genil river. As you know, Spanish poets set all their pastoral scenes against the background of our province, and they have so convinced us that our climate is bound to inspire love that hardly a single inhabitant fails to pass his youth, and sometimes his whole life, in amorous pursuits.
When one of our young men enters society his first concern is to seek out a lady to serve. If she accepts his homage he then declares himself her
embebecido
, or slave of her charms. In receiving him as such, the lady enters into a tacit agreement not to entrust her gloves and hand to any other than he. She also gives him precedence over others when a glass of water is to be fetched for her. The
embebecido
then kneels before her to give it to her. He also has the right to parade on horseback by the doors of her carriage and to offer her holy water in church and some other privileges of equal importance. Husbands
are not jealous of these relationships and indeed they would be quite wrong to be so; primarily, because their wives do not receive visitors in their houses, where, in any case, they are surrounded by duennas and ladies-in-waiting, but also, to be completely frank, because those of our women who decide to be unfaithful to their husbands do not choose their
embebecidos
. They look rather to some young relative who has access to the house, and those who are most infamous take lovers from among the lower classes.
This was the style of gallantry in Granada when I first joined polite society, but I was not taken by this style. It wasn't that I had no feelings for the opposite sex: far from it. My heart had felt the sweet influence of our climate more strongly than any other, and my first youthful feelings were a need for love.
I was soon convinced that love was something quite different from the insipid exchanges in which ladies in our society engaged with their
embebecidos
. These exchanges were indeed in no way guilty, but their effect was to interest the female heart in a man who was destined never to possess her, and to weaken feelings for the man to whom her person and heart belonged. This division revolted me. Love and marriage seemed to me to be necessarily but one, and Hymen with Venus's features became the most secret and dearest of my thoughts and the idol of my imagination. In short, I must confess to you that by cherishing this favourite notion, all my mental faculties became absorbed to the point where my reason itself was affected and that sometimes I could have been taken for a genuine
embebecido
.
Whenever I went into a house, far from taking an interest in the conversation going on there, I indulged myself in the fancy that the house was mine and my wife lived there. I would furnish her drawing-room with the finest tapestries from the Indies, as well as Chinese mats and Persian carpets on which I imagined that I could already see her footprints. I saw also the favourite tiled seat on which she would sit. Whenever she went out to take the air she would find a balcony, decorated with the most beautiful flowers, on which there would be a birdcage filled with the most exotic birds. As for her bedroom, I did not dare think of it except as a temple which my imagination feared to profane. While I was occupied with these
thoughts the conversation followed its course. I took part only when I was spoken to, when I would reply at cross-purposes and always with a somewhat ill grace because I disliked being disturbed while making these arrangements.
Such was the strange manner in which I behaved during such visits. The same aberrant behaviour occurred on walks. If I had to cross a stream, I would wade into the water up to my knees and my wife would walk across the stepping-stones, leaning on my arm, rewarding my attentions with a heavenly smile. Children delighted me. There was not one I met whom I did not cover with caresses. A woman giving the breast to her infant seemed to me to be nature's crowning glory.
