The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Alain René le Sage [most read books .txt] 📗
- Author: Alain René le Sage
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outrageous behaviour, I am ready to justify it by the law of
arms. Some thing very different must be done, replied the King: a
Spanish gentleman understands the point of honour too well to
fight on equal terms with a cowardly assassin. I can use no
milder term; and you can only atone for the heinousness of your
conduct, by presenting a cane in person to your antagonist, and
offering to submit yourself to its discipline. Oh heaven!
exclaimed the Duke: what! sir, would you have a man of my rank
degrade, debase himself before a simple gentleman, and submit to
be caned! No, replied the monarch, I will oblige Don Pompeyo to
promise not to touch you. Only offer him the cane, and ask his
pardon: that is all I require from you. And that is too much,
sir, interrupted the Duke d’Almeyda warmly; I had rather remain
exposed to all the secret machinations of his resentment. Your
life is dear to me, said the king; and I should wish this affair
to have no bad consequences. To terminate it with less disgust to
yourself, I will be the only witness of the satisfaction which I
order you to offer to the Spaniard.
The King was obliged to stretch his influence over the Duke to
the utmost, before he could induce him to so mortifying a step.
However, the peremptory monarch effected his purpose, and then
sent for me. He related the particulars of his conversation with
my enemy, and inquired if I should be content with the stipulated
reparation. I answered, yes: and gave my word that, far from
striking the offender, I would not even accept the cane, when he
presented it. With this understanding, the Duke and myself at a
certain hour attended the King, who took us into his closet.
Come, said he to the Duke, acknowledge your fault, and deserve to
be forgiven by the humility of your contrition. Then my
antagonist made his apology, and offered me the cane in his hand.
Don Pompeyo, said the monarch unexpectedly, take the cane, and
let not my presence prevent you from doing justice to your
outraged honour. I release you from your promise not to strike
the Duke. No, sir, answered I, it is enough that he has submitted
to the indignity of the offer: an offended Spaniard asks no more.
Well, then! replied the King, since you are content with this
satisfaction, you may both of you at once assume the privilege of
a gentlemanly quarrel. Measure your swords, and discuss the
question honourably. It is what I most ardently desire, exclaimed
the Duke d’Almeyda in a menacing tone; for that only is competent
to make me amends for the disgraceful step I have taken.
With these words, he went away full of rage and shame; and sent
to tell me, two hours after, that he was waiting for me, in a
retired place. I kept the appointment, and found this nobleman
ready to fight lustily. He was not five and forty; deficient
neither in courage nor in skill: so that the match was fair and
equal. Come on, Don Pompeyo, said he, let us terminate our
difference here. Our hostility ought to be reciprocally mortal;
yours, for my aggression, and mine, for having asked your pardon.
These words were no sooner out of his mouth, than he drew upon me
so suddenly, that I had no time to reply. He pressed very closely
upon me at first, but I had the good fortune to put by all his
thrusts. I acted on the offensive in my turn: the encounter was
evidently with a man equally skilled in defence or in attack;
and. there is no knowing what might have been the issue, if he
had not made a false step in retiring, and fallen backwards. I
stood still immediately, and said to the duke, Recover yourself.
Why give me any quarter? he answered. Your forbearance only
aggravates my disgrace. I will not take advantage of an accident,
replied I; it would only tarnish my glory. Once more recover
yourself, and let us fight it out.
Don Pompeyo, said he rising, after this act of generosity, honour
allows me not to renew the attack upon you. What would the world
say of me, were I to wound you mortally? I should be branded as a
coward for having murdered a man, at whose mercy I had just
before lain prostrate. I cannot therefore again lift my arm
against your life, and I feel my resentful passions subsiding
into the sweet emotions of gratitude. Don Pompeyo, let us
mutually lay aside our hatred. Let us go still further; let us be
friends. Ah! my lord, exclaimed I, so flattering a proposal I
joyfully accept. I proffer you my sincere friendship; and, as an
earnest, promise never more to approach Donna Hortensia, though
she herself should invite me. It is my duty, said he, to yield
that lady to you. Justice requires me to give her up, since her
affections are yours already. No, no, interrupted I; you love
her. Her partiality in my favour would give you uneasiness; I
sacrifice my own pleasures to your peace. Ah! too generous
Castilian, replied the Duke, embracing me, your sentiments are
truly noble. With what remorse do they strike me! Grieved and
ashamed, I look back on the outrage you have sustained. The
reparation in the King’s chamber seems now too trifling. A better
recompense awaits you. To obliterate all remembrance of your
shame, take one of my nieces whose hand is at my disposal. She is
a rich heiress, not fifteen, with beauty beyond the attractions
of mere youth.
I made my acknowledgments to the Duke in terms such as the high
honour of his alliance might suggest, and married his niece a few
days afterwards. All the court complimented this nobleman on
having made such generous amends to an insulted rival; and my
friends took part in my joy at the happy issue of an adventure
which might have led to the most melancholy consequences. From
this time, gentlemen, I have lived happily at Lisbon. I am the
idol of my wife, and have not sunk the lover in the husband. The
Duke d’Almeyda gives me new proofs of friendship every day; and I
may venture to boast of standing high in the King of Portugal’s
good graces. The importance of my errand hither sufficiently
assures me of his confidence.
CH. VIII. — An accident, in consequence of which Gil Blas was
obliged to look out for another place.
SUCH was Don Pompeyo’s story, which Don Alexo’s servant and
myself over heard, though we were prudently sent away before he
began his recital. Instead of withdrawing, we skulked behind the
door, which we had left half open, and from that station we did
not miss a word. After this, the company went on drinking; but
they did not prolong their carousals till the morning, because
Don Pompeyo, who was to speak with the prime minister, wished for
a little rest beforehand. The Marquis de Zenette and my master
took a cordial leave of the stranger, and left him with his
kinsman.
We went to bed for once before daybreak; and Don Matthias, when
he awoke, invested me with a new office. Gil Blas, said he, take
pen, ink, and paper, and write two or three letters as I shall
dictate: you shall henceforth be my secretary. Well and good!
said I to myself, a plurality of functions. As footman, I follow
my master’s heels; as valet-de-chambre, I help him to dress; and
write for him as his secretary. Heaven be praised for my
apotheosis! Like the triple Hecate of the Pantheon, I am to enact
three different characters at the same time. Can you guess my
intention? continued he. Thus it is: but take care what you are
about; your life may depend on it. As I am continually meeting
with fellows who boast of their success among the women, I mean,
by way of getting the upper hand, to fill my pockets with
fictitious love-letters, and read them in company. It will be
amusing enough. Happier than my competitors, who make conquests
only for the pleasure of the boast, I shall take the credit of
intrigue, and spare myself the labour. But vary your writing, so
that the manufacture may not be detected by the sameness of the
hand.
I then sat down to comply with the commands of Don Matthias, who
first dictated a tender epistle to this tune — You did not keep
your promise to-night. Ah! Don Matthias, how will you exculpate
yourself? My error was a cruel one! But you punish me deservedly
for my vanity, in fancying that business and amusement were all
to give way before the pleasure of seeing Donna Clara de Mendoza!
After this pretty note, he made me write another, as if from a
lady who sacrificed a prince to him; and then a third, whose fair
writer offered, if she could rely on his discretion, to embark
with him for the shores of Cytherean enchantment. It was not
enough to dictate these love-sick strains; he forced me to
subscribe them with the most high-flying names in Madrid. I could
not forbear hinting at some little hazard in all this, but he
begged me to keep my sage counsels till they were called for. I
was obliged to hold my tongue, and dispatch his orders out of
hand. That done, he got up, and dressed with my assistance. The
letters were put into his pocket, and out he went. I followed him
to dinner with Don Juan de Moncade, who entertained five or six
gentlemen of his acquaintance that day.
There was a grand set-out, and mirth, the best relish, was not
wanting to the banquet. All the guests contributed to enliven the
conversation, some by wit and humour, others by anecdotes of
which the relaters were the heroes. My master would not lose so
fine an opportunity of bringing our joint performances to bear.
He read them audibly, and with so much assurance, that probably
the whole party, with the exception of his secretary, was taken
in by the device. Among the company, before whom this trick was
so impudently played off, there was one person, by name Don Lope
de Velasco. This person, a very grave don, instead of making
himself merry like the rest with the fictitious triumphs of the
reader, asked him coolly if the conquest of Donna Clara had been
achieved with any great difficulty? Less than the least, answered
Don Matthias; the advances were all on her side. She saw me in
public, and took a fancy to my person. A scout was commissioned
to follow me, and thus she got at my name and condition. She
wrote to me, and gave me an appointment at an hour of the night
when the house was sure to be quiet. I was true as the needle to
the pole; her bedchamber was the place … . But prudence and
delicacy forbid my describing what passed there.
At this instance of tender regard for the lady’s character,
Signor de Velasco betrayed some very passionate workings in his
countenance. It was easy to see the interest he took in the
subject. All these letters, said he to my master, looking at him
with an eye of indignation and contempt, are infamous forgeries,
and above all that which you boast of having received from Donna
Clara de Mendoza. There is not in all Spain a more modest young
creature than her. self. For these two years, a gentleman, at
least your equal in birth and personal merit, has been trying
every method of insinuating himself into her heart. Scarcely have
his assiduities extorted the slightest
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