The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Alain René le Sage [most read books .txt] 📗
- Author: Alain René le Sage
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ours was not designed to turn the religion we outwardly professed
into ridicule; it was only to furnish ourselves with amusement,
and give loose to a ludicrous whim which struck us in the moment
of jollity, that of paying the last offices of humanity to my
dog.
This action was, however, very near laying me by the heels. On
the following day there came a fellow to my house, saying, Master
Sidy Hali, it is no laughing matter that induces me to pay you
this visit. My employer, the cadi, wants to have a word in your
ear; be so good, if you please, as just to step to his office,
without loss of time. An Arabian merchant, who supped with you
last night, has laid an information respecting a certain act of
irreverence perpetrated by you, on occasion of a dog which you
buried. It is on that charge that I summon you to appear this day
before the judge; and in case of failure, you are hereby warned
that you will be the subject of a criminal prosecution. Away went
he, leaving me to digest his discourse; but the citation stuck in
my throat, and took away my appetite. The Arabian had no reason
whatever to set his face against me; and I could not comprehend
the meaning of the dog’s trick the scoundrel had played me. The
circumstance at all events demanded my prompt attention. I knew
the cadi’s character: a saint on the outside, but a sinner in his
heart. Away went I therefore to wait on this judge, but not with
empty pockets. He sent for me into his private room, and began
upon me in all the vehemence of pious indignation: You are a
fellow rejected out of paradise! a blasphemer of our holy law! a
man loathsome and abominable to look upon! You have performed the
funeral service of a Mussulman over a dog. What an act of
sacrilege! Is it thus, then, that you reverence our most holy
ceremonies? Have you only turned Mahometan to laugh at our
devotions and our rites? My honoured master, answered I, the
Arabian who has told you such a cock-and-bull story is a wolf in
sheep’s clothing; and more than that, he is even an accomplice in
my crime, if it is one, to grant such rest as to peace-parted
souls to a faithful household servant, to an animal with more
good qualities than half the two-legged Mahometans out of
Christendom. His attachment besides to people of merit and
consideration in the world was at once moral and sensible; and at
his death he left several little tokens of remembrance to his
friends. By his last will and testament, he bequeathed his
effects in the manner therein mentioned, and did me the honour to
name me for his executor. This old crony came in for twenty
crowns, that for thirty, and another for a cool hundred; but your
worship is interested deeply in this instrument, pursued I,
drawing out my purse; he has left you residuary legatee, and here
is the amount of the bequest. The cadi’s gravity could not but
relax, after the posthumous kindness of his deceased friend; and
he laughed outright in the face of the mock executor. As we were
alone, there was no occasion to make wry mouths at the purse, and
my acquittal was pronounced in these words: Go, Master Sidy Hali;
it was a very pious act of yours, to enlarge the obsequies of a
dog, who had so manly a fellow-feeling for honest folks.
By this device I got out of the scrape; and if the hint did not
increase my religion, it doubled my circumspection. I was
determined no longer to open either my cellar or my soul in
presence of Arabian or Jew. My bottle companion henceforward was
a young gentleman from Leghorn, who had the happiness of being my
slave. His name was Azarini. I was of another kidney from
renegadoes in general, who impose greater hardships on their
Christian slaves than do the Turks themselves. All my captives
waited for the period of their ransom, without any impatient
hankering after home. My behaviour to them was, in truth, so
gentle and fatherly, that many of them assured me they were more
afraid of changing their master than anxious after their liberty;
whatever magic that word may have to the ears of those who have
felt what it is to be deprived of it.
One day the bashaw’s corsairs came into port with considerable
prizes. Their cargo amounted to more than a hundred slaves of
either sex, carried off from the Spanish coast. Soliman retained
but a very small number, and all the rest were sold. I happened
to go to market, and bought a Spanish girl, ten or twelve years
old. She cried as if her heart would break, and looked the
picture of despair. It seemed strange, that at her age slavery
should make such an impression on her. I told her, in Castilian,
to combat with her terrors: and assured her that she was fallen
into the hands of a master who had not put off humanity when he
took up the turban. The little mourner, not initiated in the
trade of grief, pursued the subject of her lamentations without
listening to me. Her whole soul seemed to be breathed in her
sighs; she descanted on her wretched fate, and exclaimed from
time to time in softened accents: O my mother, why were we ever
parted? I could bear my lot with patience, might we share it
together. With these lamentations on her lips, she turned round
towards a woman of from five-and-forty to fifty, standing at the
distance of several paces, and waiting with her eyes fixed to the
ground, in a determined, sullen silence, till she met with a
purchaser. I asked my young bargain if the lady she was looking
at was her mother. Alas! she is, indeed, sir, replied the girl;
for the love of God, do not let me be parted from her. Well,
then, my distressed little damsel, said I, if it will give you
any pleasure, there is no more to do than to settle you both in
the same quarters, and then you will give over your murmuring. On
the very moment I went up to the mother, with the intention of
cheapening her; but no sooner did I cast my eyes on her face,
than I knew again, with what emotion you may guess! the very form
and pressure of Lucinda. Just heaven! said I within myself; this
is my mother! Nature whispers it in my ear, and can I doubt her
evidence? On her part, whether a keen resentment of her woes
pointed out an enemy in every object on which she glanced, or
else it might be my dress that disfigured me; … . or else I
might have grown a little older in about a dozen years since she
had seen me … . but however historians may account for it,
she did not know me. But I knew her, and bought her: the pair
were sent home to my house.
When they were safely lodged, I wished to surprise them with the
pleasure of ascertaining who I was. Madam, said I to Lucinda, is
it possible that my features should not strike you? ‘Tis true, I
wear whiskers and a turban: but is Raphael less your son for
that? My mother thrilled through all her frame at these words,
looked at me with an eager gaze, my whole self rushed into her
recollection, and into each other’s arms we affectionately flew.
I then caressed, in moderated ecstasies, her daughter, who
perhaps knew as much about having a brother as I did about having
a sister. Tell the truth, said I to my mother; in all your
theatrical discoveries, did you ever meet with one so truly
natural and dramatic as this? My dear son, answered she, in an
accent of sorrow, the first sight of you after so long a
separation overwhelmed me with joy, but the revulsion was only
the more deeply distressing. In what condition, alas! do I again
behold you? My own slavery is a thousand times less revolting to
my feelings than the disgraceful habiliments … . Heyday! By
all the powers, madam, interrupted I with a hearty laugh, I am
quite delighted with your newly-acquired morality: this is
excellent in an actress. Well! well! as heaven is my judge, my
honoured mamma, you are mightily improved in your principles, if
my transformation astounds your religious eyesight. So far from
quarrelling with your turban, consider me rather as an actor,
playing a Turkish character on the stage of the world. Though a
conformist, I am just as much a Mussulman as when I was in Spain;
nay, in the bottom of my heart, I never was a more firm believer
in our Christian creed than at the present moment. When you shall
become acquainted with all my hair-breadth escapes, since I have
been domesticated in this country, you will not be rigorous in
your censure. Love has been the cause of my apostasy, and he who
worships at that shrine may be absolved from all other
infidelities. I have a little of my mother in me, take my word
for it. Another reason besides ought to moderate your disgust at
seeing me under my present circumstances. You were expecting to
experience a harsh captivity in Algiers, but you find in your
protector a son, with all the tenderness and reverence befitting
his relation to you, and rich enough to maintain you here in
plenty and comfort, till a favourable opportunity offers of
returning with safety into Spain. Admit, therefore, the force of
the proverb, which says that evil itself is good for something.
My dear son, said Lucinda, since you fully intend one day to go
back into your own country, and to throw off the mantle of
Mahomet, my scruples are all satisfied. Thanks to heaven,
continued she, I shall be able to carry back your sister Beatrice
safe and sound into Castile. Yes, madam, exclaimed I, so you may.
We will all three, as soon as the season may serve, go and throw
ourselves into the bosom of our family: for I make no matter of
doubt but you have still in Spain other indisputable evidences of
your prolific powers. No, said my mother, I have only you two,
the offspring of my body; and you are to know that Beatrice is
the fruit of a marriage, manufactured in as workmanlike a manner
as any within the pale of the church. And pray, for what reason,
replied I, might not my little sister have been just as
contraband as myself? How did you ever work yourself up to the
formidable resolution of marrying? I have heard you say a hundred
times, in my childhood, that there was no benefit of clergy for a
pretty woman who could commit such an offence as to take up with
a husband. Times and seasons ebb and flow, my son, rejoined she.
Men of the most resolute character may be shaken in their
purposes: and do you require that a woman should be inflexible in
hers? But I will now relate to you the story of my life since
your departure from Madrid. She then began the following recital,
which will never be obliterated from my memory. I will not
withhold from you so curious a narrative.
It is nearly thirteen years, if you recollect, said my mother,
since you left young Leganez. Just at that time, the Duke of
Medina Coeli told me that he had a mind to sup with me one
evening in private. The day was fixed. I made preparations for
his reception: he came, and I pleased him. He required from me
the sacrifice of
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