The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Alain René le Sage [most read books .txt] 📗
- Author: Alain René le Sage
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a glebe which is mine only by your benevolence.
While he was holding this high-flown language, his little slice
of dinner was set before him. He fell to without the fear of
indigestion before his eyes, still heightening the luxury of the
repast at intervals, by fine speeches addressed to me in the most
fulsome style of flattery. I took the opportunity, when his mouth
was filled with something more substantial, to edge in a word or
two amidst the torrent; and as he had not forgotten to ask after
his friend the steward, I made no bones about acknowledging that
I was no longer a hanger-on of the church. I even went so far as
to particularize the most trivial circumstances attending my
resignation, to all of which he listened with an attentive ear.
After all his fine professions, who would not have expected to
see him moved even to tears with the throes of resentful
gratitude, to hear him thunder bulls and interdicts against the
superannuated archbishop? The devil a bit! he did neither the one
thing nor the other. But his countenance fell, and his whole air
was that of an absent man; the rest of his dinner was bolted down
without the garnish of intermediate talk about Maecenas; as soon
as he had done, he hurried from table without minding grace or
gratitude, wished me good day with a cold and distant air, and
got off as fast as possible. The unfeeling scoundrel, perceiving
that I was no longer in a situation for him to pump anything out
of me, would not even take the trouble to draw a decent veil over
his dirty principles. But such a blackguard could excite no other
sensation than contempt and laughter. Looking at him with
derision, the fittest chastisement for fellows like these, I
called after him loud enough to be heard by the whole room: Stop
there, you nun’s priest! Go and put those two bottles in ice
against Maecenas comes to the Sabine farm! Be sure they are rich,
genuine, and old; or they will be a farce to Falernian.
CH. VI. — Gil Blas goes to the play at Grenada. His surprise at
seeing one of the actresses, and what happened thereupon.
No sooner had Garcias rid the room of his presence, than two
gentlemen came in, extremely well dressed, and took their seats
close by me. They began talking about the players of the Grenada
company, and about a new piece which just then had a great run.
According to their account, it was quite the town talk. Nothing
would do for me, but to go and see it that very day. I had never
been at the play since my residence at Grenada. As I had lived
nearly the whole time in the archbishop’s palace, where all such
profane shews were condemned as uncanonical, I had been cut off
from every recreation of that sort. All my knowledge of men and
manners was drawn from homilies!
I repaired therefore to the theatre at the appointed hour, and
found a very full house. All around me, discussions were going on
about the piece before the curtain drew up; and there was not a
soul in the numerous assembly but had some remark to make upon
it. One liked it, another could not bear it. Do not you think the
dialogue is particularly happy? said a candid critic on my right.
Was there ever such miserable stuff! cried a snarling critic on
my left. In good truth, if bad authors abound, it must be
admitted that the public are at variance about what is good and
what is bad: but the bad judges have a right to be pleased for
their money; and as they far outnumber the good ones, their
favourite writers can never want employment. When one only
considers through what an ordeal dramatic poets have to pass, it
is a matter of wonder that any should be found hardy enough at
once to contend against the ignorance of the multitude, and the
random shot of those self-created guides in matters of taste, who
always pretend to lead the blindness of the public judgment, and
too frequently push it into the mire of absurdity.
At length the buffoon of the piece came forward by way of
prologue. As soon as his grotesque countenance was visible, there
was a general clapping of hands; a sure indication of his being
one of those spoiled actors, who are allowed to take any
liberties with the pit, and to be applauded through thick and
thin, in fact, this player neither opened his lips, nor moved a
muscle, without exciting the most extravagant raptures. He would
have performed better, had he been less conscious what a
favourite he was. But he presumed on that circumstance most
abominably. I observed that he sometimes forgot what was set down
for him, and took the licence of adding to his part out of his
own free fancy; a common cause of complaint against low
comedians, which, though it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but
make the judicious grieve. Would the audience but receive such
mirth with hisses, instead of crying bravo, they might restrain
the absurd practice, and purge the stage from barbarism.
Some of the other performers were greeted with the usual tokens
on their entrance, and particularly an actress who played the
chambermaid. There was something about her which more than
usually attracted my attention; and language must sink under the
labour of expressing my astonishment at tracing the features of
Laura, that fair, that chaste, that inexpressible she, whom I
supposed to be still at Madrid, warbling in one key, with hands,
sides, voice, and mind incorporate with Arsenia. But there could
be no doubt of her identity. The kick in her gallop, the leer in
her eye, and the tripping pertness of her tongue, all conspired
in evidence that there could be no mistake. Yet, as if I had
refused belief to the affidavit of my own eyes and ears, I asked
her name of a gentleman who was sitting beside me. What the
deuce! Why, where do you come from? said he. You must
unquestionably be a new importation, not to have seen or heard of
the divine Estella.
The likeness was too perfect for me to be mistaken. It was easy
to comprehend why Laura, changing her sphere of action, changed
her name also; wherefore from curiosity to know how matters stood
with her, since the public always pry into the most private
concerns of theatrical persons, I inquired of the same man
whether this Estella had any particular affair of gallantry on
her hands. He informed me that for the last two months there had
been a great Portuguese nobleman at Grenada, his name was the
Marquis de Marialva, who had laid out a great deal of money upon
her. He might have told me more, if I had not been afraid of
becoming troublesome with my questions. I was better employed in
musing on the information this good gentleman had given me, than
in attending to the play; and if any one had asked me what it was
all about, when the piece was over, I should have been puzzled
for an answer. I could do nothing but decline Laura and Estella
through all cases and numbers; till at length I boldly made up my
mind to call at her house the next day. Not but there was some
risk as to the reception she might give me: it might be
suspected, without excess of modesty, that my appearance would
give her no great pleasure in the high tide of her affairs; nor
was it at all improbable that so good an actress, to revenge
herself on a man, with whom certainly she had an account to
settle, might look strange, and swear she had never seen his face
before. Yet did none of these apprehensions deter me from my
venture. After a light supper, for all the meals at my eating-house were regulated on principles of economy and temperance, I
withdrew to my chamber with an anxious longing for the next day.
My sleep was short and interrupted; so that I got up by daybreak.
But as it was to be recollected that a mistress in high keep was
not likely to be visible early in the morning, I passed three or
four hours in dressing, shaving, powdering, and perfuming. It was
my business to present myself before her in a trim, not to put
her to the blush at acknowledging my acquaintance. I sallied
forth about ten o’clock, and knocked at her door, after having
inquired her address at the theatre. She was living on the first
floor of a large and elegant house. I told a chambermaid who
opened the door to me, that a young man wanted to speak with her
lady. The chambermaid went in to give my message, when all at
once I heard her mistress call out, not in the best-tempered tone
in the world, Who is the young man? What does he want? Shew him
up stairs.
This was a hint to me that my time was ill chosen; that probably
her Portuguese lover was at her toilette, and that she spoke so
loud, with the laudable design of convincing him that she was not
a sort of girl to allow of any impertinent intruders. This
conjecture of mine turned out to be the fact; the Marquis de
Marialva lounged away almost every morning with her: I had made
up my mind to be kicked down-stairs by way of welcome; but that
admirable actress, never forgetting her cue, ran forward with
open arms at the sight of me, exclaiming: Ah! my dear brother, is
it you that I behold? On the strength of so near a kindred, she
was no niggard of her embraces; but recollected her self so far
as to say, turning round to the Portuguese, My lord, you must
excuse me if nature will put in her claim, and trench upon good
breeding. After three years of absence, I cannot see a brother
once again, whom I love so tenderly, without expressing my
feelings in all their warmth. Come! my dear Gil Blas, continued
she, addressing me afresh, tell me some news of the family: in
what circumstances did you leave it?
This whimsical scene disconcerted me at first; but I was not long
in seeing through Laura’s intention; and playing up to her with a
spirit scarcely less than her own, answered according to the
plot: Heaven be praised, sister, all our good folks are in
perfect health, and well in the world. I make no doubt, resumed
she, but you must be very much surprised to find me an actress in
Grenada; but hear me first and blame me afterwards. It is three
years, as you may recollect, since my father thought to have
established me advantageously in marriage with Don Antonio
Coello, an officer in the service, who took me from the Asturias
to Madrid, his native place. Six months after our arrival, he got
into an affair of honour in consequence of his violent temper.
Some attentions incautiously paid to me were the cause of the
affray, and his antagonist was killed. This gentle man was of a
family high in rank and interest. My husband, who though well
born, had very few connections, made his escape into Catalonia
with every thing he could get together in jewels and ready money.
He embarked at Barcelona, went over into Italy, enlisted in the
Venetian service, and finally lost his life in the Morea,
fighting against the Turks. In the mean time, a landed estate
which constituted our whole revenue was confiscated, and I was
left a widow with very little for my support. What was to be done
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