The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Alain René le Sage [most read books .txt] 📗

he had himself cut, with the profuse application of

bleeding, cupping, blistering, and all sorts of torments,

consequent and inconsequent. Another feather out of my poor wing!

I was obliged to pay toll to the surgeon also. After so many

purgatives, my purse was brought to such a state of debility,

that it might be considered as dead and gone; a mere skeleton,

drained of all its vital juices.

 

My spirits began to flag, on the contemplation of my wretched

case. In the service of my two last masters I had wedded myself

to the pomps and vanities of this wicked world; and could no

longer, as heretofore, look poverty in the face with the

sternness of a cynic. It must be owned, however, that I was in

the wrong to give way to melancholy, after experiencing so often

that fortune had never cast me down, but for the purpose of

raising me up again; so that my pitiful plight at the present

moment, if rightly considered, was only to be hailed as the

harbinger of approaching prosperity.

 

BOOK THE EIGHTH.

 

CH. I. — Gil Blas scrapes an acquaintance of some value, and

finds wherewithal to make him amends for the Count de Galiano’s

ingratitude. Don Valerio de Luna’s story.

 

IT seemed so strange to have heard not a syllable from Nunez

during this long interval, that I concluded he must be in the

country. I went to look after him as soon as I could walk, and

found the fact to be, that he had gone into Andalusia three weeks

ago, with the Duke of Medina Sidonia.

 

One morning when rubbing my eyes after a sound sleep, Melchior de

la Ronda started into my recollection; and that bringing to mind

my promise at Grenada, of going to see his nephew, if ever I

should return to Madrid, it seemed advisable not to defer

fulfilling my promise for a single day. I inquired where Don

Balthazar de Zuniga lived, and went thither straightway. On

asking if Signor Joseph Navarro was at home, he made his

appearance immediately. We exchanged bows with a well-bred

coolness on his part, though I had taken care to announce my name

audibly. There was no reconciling such a frosty reception with

the glowing portrait ascribed to this paragon of the buttery. I

was just going to withdraw in the full determination of not

coming again, when assuming all at once an open and smiling

aspect, he said with considerable earnestness: Ah! Signor Gil

Blas de Santillane, pray forgive the formality of your welcome.

My memory ill seconded the warmth of my disposition towards you.

Your name had escaped me, and was not at the moment identified

with the gentleman, of whom mention was made in a letter from

Grenada more than four months ago.

 

How happy I am to see you! added he, shaking hands with me most

cordially. My uncle Melchior, whom I love and honour like my

natural father, charges me, if by chance I should have the honour

of seeing you, to entertain you as his own son, and in case of

need, to stretch my own credit and that of my friends to the

utmost in your behalf. He extols the qualities of your heart and

mind in terms sufficient of themselves to engage me in your

service, though his recommendation had not been added to the

other motives. Consider me, therefore, I entreat you, as

participating in all my uncle’s sentiments. You may depend on my

friendship; let me hope for an equal share in yours.

 

I replied to Joseph’s polite assurances in suitable terms of

acknowledgment; so that being both of us warm-headed and sincere,

a close intimacy sprung up without waiting for common forms. I

felt no embarassment about laying open the state of my affairs.

This I had no sooner done, than he said: I take upon myself the

care of finding you a situation; meanwhile, there is a knife and

fork for you here every day. You will live rather better than at

an ordinary. This offer was sure to be well relished by an

invalid just recovering with a fastidious palate and an empty

pocket. It could not but be accepted; and I picked up my crumbs

so fast that at the end of a fortnight I began to look like a

rosy-gilled son of the church. It struck me that Melchior’s

nephew larded his lean sides to some purpose. But how could it be

otherwise? he had three strings to his bow, as holding the

undermentioned pluralities: the butler’s place, the clerkship of

the kitchen, and the stewardship. Furthermore, without meaning to

question my friend’s honesty, they do say that the comptroller of

the household and he looked over each other’s hands.

 

My recovery was entirely confirmed, when my friend Joseph, on my

coming in to dinner as usual one day, said with an air of

congratulation: Signor Gil Blas, I have a very tolerable

situation in view for you. You must know that the Duke of Lerma,

first minister of the crown in Spain, giving himself up entirely

to state affairs, throws the burden of his own on two

confidential persons. Don Diego de Monteser takes the charge of

collecting his rents, and Don Rodrigo de Calderona superintends

the finances of his household. These two officers are paramount

in their departments, having nothing to do with one another. Don

Diego has generally two deputies to transact the business; and

finding just now that one of them had been discharged, I have

been canvassing for you. Signor Monteser having the greatest

possible regard for me, granted my request at once, on the

strength of my testimony to your morals and capacity. We will pay

our respects to him after dinner.

 

We did not miss our appointment. I was received with every mark

of favour, and promoted in the room of the dismissed deputy. My

business consisted in visiting the farms, in giving orders for

the necessary repairs, in dunning the farmers, and keeping them

to time in their payments; in a word, the tenants were all under

my thumb, and Don Diego checked my accounts every month with a

minuteness which few receivers could have borne. But this was

exactly what I wanted. Though my uprightness had been so ill

requited by my late master, it was my only inheritance, and I was

determined not to sell the reversion.

 

One day news came that the castle of Lerma had taken fire, and

was more than half burnt down. I immediately went thither to

estimate the loss. In forming myself to a nicety, and on the

spot, respecting all the particulars of the unlucky accident, I

drew up a detailed narrative, which Monteser shewed to the Duke

of Lerma. That minister, though vexed at the circumstance, was

struck with the memorial, and inquired who was the author. Don

Diego thought it not enough to answer the question, but spoke of

me in such high terms, that his excellency recollected it six

months afterwards, on occasion of an incident I shall now relate,

had it not been for which I might never, perhaps, have been

employed at court. It was as follows: —

 

There lived at that time in Princes Street an elderly lady, by

name In�silla de Cantarilla. Her birth was a matter of mystery.

Some said she was the daughter of a musical instrument-maker, and

others gave her a high military extraction. However that might

be, she was a very extraordinary personage. Nature had gifted her

with the singular talent of winning men’s hearts in defiance of

time, and in contradiction to her own laws; for she was now

entering upon the fourth quarter of her century. She had been the

reigning toast of the old court, and levied tribute on the

passions of the new. Age, though at daggers drawn with beauty,

was completely foiled in its assault upon her charms; they might

be somewhat faded, but the touch of sympathy they excited in

their decline was more pleasing that the vivid glow of their

meridian lustre. An air of dignity, a transporting wit and

humour, an unborrowed grace in her deportment, perpetuated the

reign of passion, and silenced the suggestions of reason.

 

Don Valerio de Luna, one of the Duke of Lerma’s secretaries, a

young fellow of five-and-twenty, meeting with In�silla, fell

violently in love with her. He made his sentiments known, enacted

all the mummery of despair, and followed up the usual catastrophe

of every amorous drama so much according to the unities and

rules, that it was difficult, in the very torrent and whirlwind

of his passion, to beget a temperance that might give it

smoothness. The lady, who had her reason for not choosing to fall

in with his humour, was at a loss how to get out of the

difficulty. One day she was in hopes to have found the means by

calling the young man into her closet, and there pointing to a

clock upon the table. Mark the precise hour, said she; just

seventy-five years ago was I brought upon the stage of this

fantastical world. In good earnest, would it sit well upon my

time of life to be engaged in affairs of gallantry? Betake

yourself to reflection, my good child; stifle sentiments so

unsuitable to your own circumstances and mine. Sensible as this

language was, the spark, no longer bowing to the authority of

reason, answered the lady with all the impetuosity of a man

racked by the most excruciating torments: Cruel In�silla, why

have you recourse to such frivolous remonstrances? Do you think

they can change your charms or my desires? Delude not yourself

with so false a hope. As long as your loveliness or my delusion

lasts, I shall never cease to adore you. Well, then, rejoined

she, since you are obstinate enough to persist in the resolution

of wearying me with your importunities, my doors shall henceforth

be shut against you. You are banished, and I beg to be no longer

troubled with your company.

 

It may be supposed, perhaps, that after this, Don Valerio,

baffled, made good his retreat like a prudent general. Quite the

reverse! He became more troublesome than ever. Love is to lovers

just what wine is to drunkards. The swain intreated, sighed,

looked, and sighed again; when all at once, changing his note

from childish treble to the big manly voice of bluster and

ravishment, he swore that he would have by foul means what he

could not obtain by fair. But the lady, repulsing him

courageously, said with a piercing look of strong resentment,

Hold, imprudent wretch! I shall put a curb on your mad career.

Learn that you are my own son.

 

Don Valerio was thunderstruck at these words; the tempest of his

rage subsided. But, conjecturing that Inesilla had only started

this device to rid herself of his solicitations, he answered,

That is a mere romance of the moment to steal away from my ardent

desires. No, no, said she, interrupting him, I disclose a mystery

which should have been for ever buried, had you not reduced me to

so painful a necessity. It is six-and-twenty years since I was in

love with your father, Don Pedro de Luna, then governor of

Segovia; you were the fruit of our mutual passion: he owned you,

brought you up with care and tenderness, and having no children

born in wedlock, he had nothing to hinder him from distinguishing

your good qualities by the gifts of fortune. On my part, I have

not forsaken you; as soon as you were of an age to be introduced

into the world, I drew you into the circle of my acquaintance, to

form your manners to that polish of good company, so necessary

for a gentleman, which is only to be gained in female society.