The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Alain René le Sage [most read books .txt] 📗
- Author: Alain René le Sage
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letters of gold, for the pious edification of my rustic
neighbours:
Inveni portum. Spes et fortuna, valete.
Sat me lusistis; ludite nunc alios.
BOOK THE TENTH.
CH. I. — Gil Blas sets out for the Asturias; and passes through
Valladolid, where he goes to see his old master, Doctor Sangrado.
By accident, he comes across Signor Manuel Ordonnez, governor of
the hospital.
JUST as I was arranging matters to take my departure from Madrid,
and go with Scipio to the Asturias, Paul V. gave the Duke of
Lerma a cardinal’s hat. This pope, wishing to establish the
inquisition in the kingdom of Naples, invested the minister with
the purple, and by that means hoped to bring King Philip over to
so pious and praiseworthy a design. Those who were best
acquainted with this new member of the sacred college, thought
much like myself, that the church was in a fair way for
apostolical purity, after so ghostly an acquisition.
Scipio, who would have liked better to see me once more blazing
at court, than either cloistered or rusticated, advised me to
shew my face at the cardinal’s audience. Perhaps, said he, his
eminence, finding you at large by the king’s order, may think it
unnecessary to affect any further displeasure against you, and
may even reinstate you in his service. My good friend Scipio,
answered I, you seem to forget that my liberty was granted only
on condition of making myself scarce in the two Castiles.
Besides, can you suppose me so soon inclined to become an
absentee from my domain of Lirias? I have told you before, and I
tell it you once again: Though the Duke of Lerma should restore
me to his good graces, though he should even offer me Don Rodrigo
de Calderona’s place, I would refuse it. My resolution is taken:
I mean to go and find out my parents at Oviedo, and carry them
with me to Valencia. As for you, my good fellow, if you repent of
having linked your fate with mine, you have only to say so: I am
ready to give you half of my ready money, and you may stay at
Madrid, where fortune puts on her kindest smiles to those who woo
her lustily.
What then! replied my secretary, a little affected by these
words, can you suspect me of any unwillingness to follow you into
your retreat? The very idea is an injury to my zeal and my
attachment … . What, Scipio! that faithful appendage, who
would willingly have passed the remnant of his days with you in
the tower of Segovia, rather than abandon you to your wretched
fate, can he feel sorrowful at the prospect of an abode, where a
thousand rural delights are waiting to smile on his arrival? No,
no, I have not a wish to turn you aside from your resolution. Nor
can I refrain from owning my malicious drift; when I advised you
to shew your face at the Duke of Lerma’s audience, it was for the
purpose of ascertaining whether any seedlings of ambition were
scattered among the fallows of your philosophy. Since that point
is settled, and you are mortified to all the pomps and vanities
of the world; let us make the best of our way from court, to go
and suck in with Zephyrus and Flora the innocent, delicious
pleasures so luxuriant in the nursery of our imaginations.
In fact, we soon afterwards took our departure together, in a
chaise drawn by two good mules, driven by a postilion whom I had
added to my establishment. We stopped the first day at Alcala de
Henar�s, and the second at Segovia, whence, without stopping to
see our generous warden, Tordesillas, we went forward to Pen�fiel
on the Duero, and the next day to Valladolid. At sight of this
large town, I could not help fetching a deep sigh. My companion,
surprised at that conscientious ventilation, inquired the reason
of it. My good fellow, said I, it is because I practised medicine
here for a long time. It gives me the horrors, even now, to think
of my unexpiated murders. The whole list of killed and wounded
are mustered in battle-array yonder: the tomb and the hospital
yawn with their disgorged inhabitants, who are rushing on to tear
me piecemeal, and exact the vengeance due to the drenched crew.
What a dreadful fancy! said my secretary. In truth, Signor de
Santillane, your nature is too tender. Why should you be shocked
at the common course of exchange in your branch of trade? Look at
all the oldest physicians: their withers are unwrung. What can
exceed the self-complacency with which they view the exits of
patients, and the entrances of diseases? Natural constitution
bears the brunt of all their failures, and medical infallibility
takes the credit of lucky accidents.
It is very true, replied I, that Doctor Sangrado, on whose
practice I formed myself, was like the rest of the old physicians
in point of self-complacency. It was to little purpose that
twenty people in a day yielded to his prowess; he was so
persuaded that bleeding in the arm and copious libations of warm
water were specifics for every case, that instead of doubting
whether the death of his patients might not possibly invalidate
the efficacy of his prescriptions, he ascribed the result to a
vacillating compliance with his system. By all the powers! cried
Scipio with a burst of laughter, you open to me an incomparable
character. If you have any curiosity to be better acquainted with
him, said I, it may be gratified to-morrow, should Sangrado be
still living, and resident at Valladolid: but it is highly
improbable; for he had one foot in the grave when I left him
several years ago.
Our first care, on putting up at the inn, was to inquire after
this doctor. We were told that he was not dead; but being
incapacitated by age from paying visits or any other vigorous
exertions, he had been superseded by three or four other doctors
who had risen into repute by a new practice, accomplishing the
same end by different means. We determined on lying by for a day
at Valladolid, as well to rest our mules, as to call on Signor
Sangrado. About ten o’clock next morning we knocked at his door;
and found him sitting in his elbow-chair, with a book in his
hand. He rose on our entrance; advanced to meet us with a firm
step for a man of seventy, and begged to know our business. My
worthy and approved good master, said I, have you lost all
recollection of an old pupil? There was formerly one Gil Blas, as
you may remember, a boarder in your house, and for some time your
deputy. What! is it you, Santillane? answered he, with a cordial
embrace. I should not have known you again. It, however, gives me
great pleasure to see you once more. What have you been doing
since we parted? Doubtless you have made medicine your
profession. It was very strongly my inclination so to do, replied
I; but imperious circumstances made me reluctantly abandon so
illustrious a calling.
So much the worse, rejoined Sangrado: with the principles you
sucked in under my tuition, you would have become a physician of
the first skill and eminence, with the guiding influence of
heaven to defend you from the dangerous allurements of chemistry.
Ah, my son! pursued he with a mournful air, what a change in
practice within these few years! The whole honour and dignity of
the art is compromised. That mystery, by whose inscrutable
decrees the lives of men have in all ages been determined, is now
laid open to the rude, untutored gaze of blockheads, novices, and
mountebanks. Facts are stubborn things; and ere long the very
stones will cry aloud against the rascality of these new
practitioners: lapides clamabunt! Why, sir, there are fellows in
this town, calling themselves physicians, who drag their degraded
persons at the currus triumphalis antimonii, or as it should
properly be translated, the cart’s tail of antimony. Apostates
from the faith of Paracelsus, idolaters of filthy kermes, healers
at haphazard, who make all the science of medicine to consist in
the preparation and prescription of drugs. What a change have I
to announce to you! There is not one stone left upon another in
the whole structure which our great predecessors had raised.
Bleeding in the feet, for example, so rarely practised in better
times, is now among the fashionable follies of the day. That
gentle, civilized system of evacuation which prevailed under my
auspices is subverted by the reign of anarchy and emetics, of
quackery and poison. In short, chaos is come again! Every one
orders what seems good in his own eyes; there is no deference to
the authority of ancient wisdom; our masters are laid upon the
shelf, and their axioms not one tittle the more regarded, for
being delivered in languages as defunct as the subjects of their
application.
However desirable it might seem to laugh at so whimsical a
declamation, I had the good manners to resist the impulse; and
not only that, but to inveigh bitterly against kermes, without
knowing whether it was a vegetable or an animal, and to pour
forth a commination of curses against the authors and inventors
of so diabolical an engine. Scipio, observing my by-play in this
scene, had a mind to come in for his share in the banter. Most
venerable prop of the true practice, said he to Sangrado, as I am
descended in the third generation from a physician of the old
school, give me leave to join you in your philippic against
chemical conspiracies. My late illustrious progenitor, heaven
forgive him all his sins! was so warm a partisan of Hippocrates,
that he often came to blows with ignorant pretenders, who vomited
forth blasphemies against that high priest of the faculty. What
is bred in the bone will not come out of the flesh: I could
willingly inflict tortures and death with my own hands on those
rash innovators whose daring enormities you have characterized
with such accuracy of discrimination and such force of language.
When wretches like these gain an ascendancy in civilized society,
can we wonder at the disjointed condition of the world?
The times are even more out of joint than you are aware of, said
the doctor. My book against the vanities and delusions of the new
practice might as well have fallen still-born from the press; it
seems, if anything, to have acted by contraries, and to have
exasperated heresy. The apothecaries, like the Titans of old,
heaping potion upon pill, and invading the Olympus of medicine,
think themselves fully qualified to usurp and maintain the
throne, now that it is only thought necessary to set open the
doors, and to drive the enemy out at the portal or the postern by
main force. They go to the length of infusing their deadly drugs
into apozems and cordials, and then set themselves up against the
most eminent of the fraternity. This contagion has spread its
influence even among the cloisters. There are monks in our
convents who unite surgery and pharmacy to the labours of the
confessional. Those medical baboons are always dipping their paws
into chemistry, and inventing compositions strong enough to lay a
scene of ecclesiastical mortality in the temperate abodes of
peace and religion. Now there are in Valladolid above sixty
religious houses for both sexes; judge what ravage must have been
made there by unmerciful pumping and the lancet misapplied.
Signor Sangrado, said I, you are perfectly in the right to give
these poisoners no quarter. I utter groan for groan with you, and
heave the philanthropic sigh over the invaded lives of our
fellow-creatures,
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