THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES ALAIN RENE LE SAGE THE ADVENTURES OF GIL B L A S OF SANTILLANE TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH BY TOBIAS SMOLLETT PRECEDED BY A BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL NOTICE OF LE SAGE BY GEORGE SAINTSBURY oefte g)rigmaf fc$tng 8j (Jl. be go* Qfitto* IN THREE VOLUMES VOL. I. NEW YORK WORTHINGTON CO., 747 BROADWAY 1890 College Library 7 THE AUTHOR'S DECLARATION. THERE are some people in the world so mischiev- ous as not to read a work without applying the vicious or ridiculous characters it may happen to contain to eminent or popular individuals. I pro- test publicly against the pretended discovery of any such likenesses. My purpose was to represent hu- man life historically as it exists : God forbid I should hold myself out as a portrait-painter. Let not the reader then take to himself public property ; for if he does, he may chance to throw an unlucky light on his own character : as Phaedrus expresses it, Stulte nudabit animi conscientiam. Certain physicians of Castille, as well as of France, are sometimes a little too fond of trying the bleeding and lowering system on their patients. Vices, their patrons, and their dupes, are of every day's occur- rence. To be sure, I have not always adopted Span- ish manners with scrupulous exactness ; and in the 1120823 VI " THE AUTHOR'S DECLARATION. instance of the players at Madrid, those who know their disorderly modes of living may reproach me with softening down their coarser traits : but this I have been induced to do from a sense of delicacy, and in conformity with the manners of my own country. GIL BLAS TO THE READER READER ! hark you, my friend ! Do not begin the story of my life till I have told you a short tale. Two students travelled together from Penafiel to Salamanca. Finding themselves tired and thirsty, they stopped by the side of a spring on the road. While they were resting there, after having quenched their thirst, by chance they espied on a stone near them, even with the ground, part of an inscription, in some degree effaced by time, and by the tread of flocks in the habit of watering at that spring. Hav- ing washed the stone, they were able to trace these words in the dialect of Castille : Aqui estd encerrada el alma del licenciado Pedro Garcias. " Here lies interred the soul of the licentiate Peter Garcias." Hey-day ! roars out the younger, a lively, heed- less fellow, who could not get on with his decipher- ing for laughter : This is a good joke indeed : "Here lies interred the soul." ... A soul interred ! . . . I should like to know the whimsical author of this ludicrous epitaph. With this sneer he got up to go Vl'ii GIL BLAS TO THE READER. away. His companion, who had more sense, said within himself: Underneath this stone lies some mystery ; I will stay, and see the end of it. Ac- cordingly, he let his comrade depart, and without loss of time began digging round about the stone with his knife till he got it up. Under it he found a purse of leather, containing a hundred ducats, with a card on which was written these words in Latin : " Whoever thou art who hast wit enough to discover the meaning of the inscription, I appoint thee my heir, in the hope thou wilt make a better use of my fortune than I have done !" The student, out of his wits at the discovery, replaced the stone in its former position, and set out again on the Sala- manca road with the soul of the licentiate in his pocket. Now, my good friend and reader, no matter who you are, you must be like one or the other of these two students. If you cast your eye over my adven- tures without fixing it on the moral concealed under them, you will derive very little benefit from the perusal : but if you read with attention you will find that mixture of the useful with the agreeable, SQ successfully precribe4 by Horace. CONTENTS OF VOL. I. PACK BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL NOTICE OF LK SAGE, BY GEOROB SAINTSBUBY ... . . xiii BOOK THE FIRST. CHAPTER I. The Birth and Education of Gil Bias ... .13 CHAPTER II. Gil Bias's Alarm on his Road to Pegnaflor; his Adventures on his Arrival in that Town ; and the Character of the Men with whom he Supped . . . . . . .1C CHAPTER III. The Muleteer's Temptation on the Road; its Consequences, and the Situation of Gil Bias between Scylla and Charybdis . . 27 CHAPTER IV. Description of the Subterranean Dwelling and its Contents . . 32 CHAPTER V. The Arrival of the Banditti in fie Subterraneous Retreat, with an Account of their Pleasant Conversation . . .36 CHAPTER VI. The Attempt of Gil Bias to Escape, and its Success . . .46 CHAPTER VII. Gil Bias, not being able to do what he likes, does what he can . 61 CHAPTER VIII. Gil Bias goes out with the Gang, and Performs an Exploit on the Highway . . . . . . .54 CHAPTER IX. A more Serious Incident . , . , , t ,68 CHAPTER X. The Lady'i Treatment from the Robbera. Thp Event of the Gmt DwifR ponceited by Gil BlM , . Gl X CONTEXTS OF VOL. I. CHAPTER XL PAOB The History of Donna Mencia de Mosquera. . . .68 CHAPTER XII. A disagreeable Interruption. . . , . .78 CHAPTER XIII. The lucky Means by which Gil Bias escaped from Prison, and his Travels afterwards. . . . . . .83 CHAPTER XIV. Donna Mencia's Reception of him at Burgos. . . .88 CHAPTER XV. Gil Bias dresses himself to more Advantage, and receives a sec- ond Present from the Lady. His Equipage on setting out from Burgos. . . . . . . .93 CHAPTER XVI. Showing that Prosperity will slip through a Man's Fingers. . 99 CHAPTER XVII. The Measures Gil Bias took after the Adventure of the ready- furnished Lodging. ...... 108 BOOK THE SECOND. CHAPTER I. Fabricio introduces Gil Bias to the Licentiate Sedillo, and pro- cures him a Reception. The Domestic Economy of that Clergyman. Picture of his Housekeeper. . . . 119 CHAPTER II. The Canon's Illness ; his Treatment ; the Consequence ; the Legacy to Gil Bias. . . . . . .127 CHAPTER III. Gil Bias enters into Doctor Sangrado's Service, and becomes a famous Practitioner. . 134 CHAPTER IV. Gil Bias goes on practising Physic with equal Success and Abil- ity, Adventure of the recovered Rjng. , . , 142 CONTENTS OF VOL. I. XI CHAPTER V. PAGE Sequel of the foregoing Adventure. Gil Bias retires from Prac- tice, and from the Neighborhood of Valladolid. . . 155 CHAPTER VI. His Route from Valladolid, with a Description of his Fellow- traveller. . . . . . . . .164 CHAPTER VII. The Journeyman Barber's Story. ..... 167 CHAPTER VIII. The Meeting of Gil Bias and his Companion with a Man soaking Crusts of Bread at a Spring, and the Particulars of their Conversation. ....... 199 CHAPTER IX. The Meeting of Diego with his Family ; their Circumstances in Life ; great Rejoicing on the Occasion ; the parting Scene between him and Gil Bias. ... . 205 BOOK THE THIRD. CHAPTER I. The Arrival of Gil Bias at Madrid. His first Place there. . 213 CHAPTER II. The Astonishment of Gil Bias at meeting Captain Rolando in Madrid, and that Robber's curious Narrative. . . 222 CHAPTER III. Gil Bias is dismissed by Don Bernard de Castil Bltizo, and enters into the Service of a Beau. ..... 230 CHAPTER IV. Gil Bias gets into Company with his Fellows ; they show him a ready Road to the Reputation of Wit, and impose on him a singular Oath 243 CHAPTER V. Gil Bias becomes the Darling of the Fair Sex, and makes an in- teresting Acquaintance, , , , , ,251 xii CONTENTS OF VOL. I. CHAPTER VI. PAGE The Prince's Company of Comedians. .... 262 CHAPTER VII. History of Don Pompeyo de Castro. .... 268 CHAPTER VIII. An Accident, in Consequence of which Gil Bias was obliged to look out for another Place. ..... 278 CHAPTER IX. A new Service after the Death of Don Matthias de Silva. . 285 CHAPTER X. Much such another as the Foregoing. . . . .290 CHAPTER XI. A theatrical Life, and an Author's Life. .... 296 CHAPTER XII. Gil Bias acquires a Relish for the Theatre, and takes a full Swing of its Pleasures, but soon becomes disgusted. . . 302 BOOK THE FOURTH. CHAPTER I. Gil Bias, not being able to reconcile himself to the Morals of the Actresses, quits Arsenia, and gets into a more reputable Ser- vice. . . . . . . .308 CHAPTER II. Aurora's Reception of Gil Bias. Their Conversation. . . 316 CHAPTER III. A great Change at Don Vincent's. Aurora's strange Resolution. 321 CHAPTER IV. "The Fatal Marriage "w- a Novel. . , . . .329 CHAPTER V. The Behavior pf Aurora d.e Guzman on her Arrival at Salamanca. 371 CHAPTER VI, 'ij I)evicei to lecure Don Lwti Pwhaoo'a Affections, , 386 ALAIN RENE LESAGE. A CRITIC of whom I desire to speak with all respect the Kector of Lincoln has said that " mere style cannot confer immortality upon any book apart from its contents." The context from which this remark is taken deals with the Provinciates and Pens&s of Pascal, concerning which Mr. Pattison thinks that the former are but an ephemeral pam- phlet, the latter are for all time. So startling a judgment makes the reader a little inclined to dog- matize hyperbolically in hia turn, and to say that there is nothing perennial but style. This, indeed, would be merely running from one extreme to another ; nevertheless, there is more truth in it than in the other exaggeration, for the attitude of men's minds changes singularly, from one time to another, with regard to any " contents ;" it changes very little with regard to the expression of those contents. This is, perhaps, nowhere seen more clearly than in the case of very voluminous authors whose works are preserved in unequal remembrance. tit AtAItf RENE LESAGE. When such cases are examined, it will generally be found that the reason for the preference which pos- terity has expressed has been almost entirely due to literary merit. Between the merit of the con- tents of Defoe's different novels there is not very much to choose ; yet no one who speaks with com- petence will question that the literary art of Robinson Crusoe is, on the whole, far superior to that of Moll Flanders and Colonel Jack. So, in the not wholly dissimilar case of our present author, the contents of Estevanille Gonzales and The Bachelor of Salamanca are not much less interesting, if they are less interesting at all, than those of Le Liable Boiteux and Gil Bias, while Guzman d'Alfarache has perhaps a positive advantage over much of the latter. But Lesage was never so well inspired from the literary point of view as in the two works which have been justly deemed his masterpieces, and in this lies the justice of the selection. The reasons of the inequality of Lesage's work are to be sought in the same cause which, in all probability, accounts for such inequality in all cases. Where men never write below themselves, it will almost invariably be found that their work has either been thrown off in the heyday of youth, or, if spread over a long course of years, has been written for pleasure merely ; at any rate, without any immediate pressure of want. Pegasus, as one RENE LESAGE. IV of the greatest of English writers in our time has put it, must, in the unhappier cases, be too frequently spurred, and will not always answer to the spur. Now the long life of the author of Gil Bias was anything but one of ease. He had few patrons, and was not of a temper to have many. Literature, unfortunately, was stick, crutch and all to him, and he was unlucky in his law affairs, a fact which probably accounts for the continual satire he pours on law and lawyers. Yet, by birth, at any rate, he belonged to the profession. His father, Claude Lesage, was at once Advocate, Notary and Greffier (Eegistrar) of the Royal Court of the small district of Ehuys, the out-of-the-way peninsula which bounds the Morbihan on its eastern side. Alain Ren^ was born on the 8th of May, 1668 (his mother being by name Jeanne Brenugat), at Sarzeau, the chief town of the district, which, it may be well to remind readers, was also the locality of the Abbey of St. Gildas de Rhuys, the very uneasy refuge of Abelard after his calamities. It is not a little charac- teristic of the peculiar bent of Lesage's genius, that it shows hardly any local colour, though Brittany has, of all French provinces, left most mark on her children as a rule, and though Lesage's birthplace lay in perhaps the most striking part of the Duc'ny. But Lesage left his native province young ; he never, so far as I know, returned to it, and he very xvi ALAIN RENE* LESAGE. probably had unpleasant associations connected therewith. The father's triple office was profitable enough, but he died when his son was young, and the property he left him was dissipated or embezzled by a dishonest guardian, a personage of frequent occurrence in those days, and one whom Lesage smites again and again in his novels. That the boy was at school at Vannes, the neighbouring episcopal city, until 1686, is known; but this is almost all that is known about his youth, and then he disap- pears for some eight years. It has been supposed that he may have held some small post in the financial department of the province, or that he may have continued his studies at Paris, the latter being by far the more probable hypothesis. Anyhow, in 1692 he was admitted as an advocate at the Bar of Paris. But he apparently got no clients, and when he was six-and-twenty he took to himself a wife, Marie Elisabeth Huyard. She is said to have been remarkably beautiful, and they lived for many years together, it would seem, happily enough ; but she had no fortune, she was only a tradesman's daughter, and his marriage can hardly have added to the young lawyer's resources. Falling in with an old schoolfellow, Danchet, who had already made some mark in literature, he was recommended by him to seek the same refuge for the destitute. His coup d'essai, a translation of the letters of Aristaenetua, AtAlfr RENk LESAGE. which appeared in 1695 (he had "been married in August or September, 1694), has made his bio- graphers and critics rather merry. He certainly might have done better, but it is doubtful whether the oddity of the choice comparatively worthless as the book is struck that age as it strikes ours. The indiscriminate reign of the classics, early and late, good and bad, genuine and spurious, was not yet over, and many a young man of letters had made his debut with work not intrinsically better. Lesage, however, had no luck he had not much at any period during his life and the book fell flat. A more useful adviser in every sense, how- ever, fell to his lot in the person of the Abbe* de Lyonne. Lyonne not merely gave him, or procured him, a pension or annuity of six hundred livres no despicable assistance to modest housekeeping at that time, when living at Paris was extraordinarily cheap but recommended him to study Spanish literature,, of which he himself was a great lover. Three-quarters of a century before, this literature had been greatly admired and largely borrowed from in France, but the age of the great writers of Louis the Thirteenth's time and his son's had put it out of fashion. Lesage began by simple translation or adaptation, and, as in the case of Aristsenetus, he was not too fortunate in his models. In drama, at least, he did not go far wrong, choosing Eojas, Lope VOI.. X. de Yega and Calderon for his originals, and produc- ing plays which were sometimes acted. But a version of the worthless New Don Quixote of Avel- laneda was sorry work for the future author of Gil .Bias, The play which he conveyed from Calderon Don C&ar Ursin had some merit ; and in 1 707, "being then hard upon his fortieth year, he scored two great successes. ' His little piece of Crispin Rival de son Maitre appeared, and was loudly and deser- vedly applauded, while the Diable Boiteux obtained still greater favour. It ran through several editions in the year, and many legends of the usual character are told about its success. The most characteristic, and probably the truest, is that Boileau found his footboy with a copy, and declared that if such a book stayed a night in his house the boy should not stay another. Lesage was already hailed as a Moliere Eedivivus, and this of itself was sufficient to irritate Boileau in his sour old age. But it would probably have been sufficient for that vigorous but narrow critic that the book was not in any style which he had himself recommended, or which he could understand ; for Boileau was the incarnation of the merely French spirit of literature in its most contracted form ; Lesage, as we shall see, was not specially or primarily French at all except in his wit, the very quality which the author of the Namur Ode was least qualified to appreciate. AtAltf RENE* LESAGiS. Xlx Lesage, however, had not yet arrived at his apogee. Despite his theatrical successes he was never on very good terms with the players of the regular theatre, and a small piece Les JEtrennes was refused by them at the beginning of 1708. The author took it back, set to work on it, and refashioned it into Turcaret, the best French comedy, beyond all doubt, of the eighteenth century, and probably the best of its kind to be found outside the covers of Moliere's works. It is in connection with Turcaret, the success of which was very great, though the powerful class offended by it did not conceal their displeasure, that one of the few per- sonal and characteristic anecdotes we possess of Lesage is told. He had been asked to read his play to a fashionable company at the Duchess of Bouillon's, and, being delayed by law business, was late. The Duchess let it be remembered that it was some half-century before all Paris interested itself in the quarrel of two "miserable scribblers who live in garrets " rebuked him with some asperity for keeping her an hour waiting. " Eh bien, Madame," replied the poet ; " je vous ai fait perdre une heure, je vais vous en faire gagner deux ;" and he put his manuscript in his pocket, and, resist- ing all entreaties, went away. The anecdote rests on the authority of Colle, who, in such a case, is fairly trustworthy, and it probably explains why it ALAIN KENE LESAOE. Lesage's life was one of struggle. Though his inde- pendence was, most likely, natural and usual, it is said to have been made more touchy on this parti- cular occasion by the fact that he had lost the case which had detained him. However this may be, his dissatisfaction with the Maison de Moli&re soon assumed a still more active form, and for five-and- twenty years the best living comic dramatist of France gained his bread chiefly by writing for the stage of the Foire, the irregular but licensed booths set up during fair time. Lesage is said to have written no less than twenty-four farce-operettas, as they may perhaps best be termed, for these boards, and the number of his works for them alone, or in collaboration, is sometimes put at sixty-four and sometimes at a hundred and one. It was about the time that he took to this occupa- tion, in which he was kept in company by not a few writers of talent, if not of genius, notably by Piron, that Gil Bias appeared in 1715. This, his greatest work, was scarcely so popular as Le Liable Boitcux, and it was long before it was finished, while the number of editions during the thirty years of the author's life was by comparison sur- prisingly small. Among the few positive state- ments that we have about Lesage's literary gains is one to the effect that a hundred pistoles had been advanced to him as prepayment for the last volume ALAIN RENE LESAGE. XXI several years before it was completed. It does not of course follow that this was the whole price. The two first parts, as has been said, appeared in 1715, the third in 1724, the fourth in 1735. Thus Lesage evidently took time about his greatest work, though he was compelled to do much else in a hurry. His productions were sufficiently miscellaneous, though most of them had to do with the vein of literary ore which had been so fortunately indicated to him. A version of Guzman d'Alfaraahe, much altered and improved ; I'Histoire d' EstevanilU Gonzales and Le Bachdier de Salamanqiie, were the chief of these, while he also translated the Orlando Inamorato. A curious collection of imaginary letters, called the Valise Trouvee, and some minor works, came from his pen ; besides which he was at the close of his life occupied on a collection of anecdotes which appeared after his death. He also superintended a collection of his Theatre de la Foire, as he had previously one of his regular pieces. One work not yet mentioned, the " Life and Adventures of M. de Beauchene, Captain of Flibustiers/' brings him curiously near to Defoe, especially as in this, not less than in the English cases, a groundwork of actual memoirs is said or supposed to have existed. From his children Lesage had both trouble and profit. The eldest was bred a lawyer, but became ail actor and was disowned by his father. The XX11 ALAIN RENE LESAGE. second took orders, obtained a canonry at Boulogne, and became the mainstay of the family. Worn out by seventy years of life and thirty or forty of lite- rary work, Lesage about 1740 retired with his wife and daughter to the city where his son lived, and spent there his remaining years, dying on the i/th of November, 1747. A very curious and interest- ing letter from the Count de Tressan is in existence, giving an account of him in his very last days. Tressan is known to all students of French litera- ture as having laboriously dressed the stories of the Chansons de Gestes in eighteenth-century garments for the readers of the JBiblothfyue des Romans to which act we owe Wieland's Oberon and as having, in ignorance of the existence of the original, bravely extemporized a Chanson de Roland, which stands, perhaps, in more absurd contrast to the true Chanson than any other conjectural restoration does to any other original. But he had a real interest in literature, and seems to have been amiable enough at this time. He was a military officer of high standing in the days of Fontenoy, and after that battle was for some time at Boulogne, where he used to visit Lesage. " The old man (he was then about seventy-seven) was," says Tressan, " in a state of half torpor till midday, but he then revived, and was fairly in possession of his faculties till sundown " a fact from which the philosophic Count makes some ALAIN RENE LESAGE. large inferences in proper eighteenth-century style. But, even when most wide awake, Lesage was very deaf, and nothing would induce him to put his trumpet to his ear when persons he disliked were his interlocutors, though it went up readily enough when any one he liked approached. This is the last and one of the very few personal pieces of gossip we have about him, and it proves satisfac- torily that a hard worker and a great benefactor of his species, who had not in his time enjoyed too many of the gifts of fortune, at any rate passed his last years in peace and in such comfort as might be. His wife outlived him but a very short time and died at the age of eighty. If an author is to be judged only by those works whose popularity has stood the test of time, Lesage need only be considered as the author of Crispin Rival de son Maitre, of Turcaret, of Le Liable Boiteiwc, and of Gil Bias de Santillane. His other prose works are, indeed, of considerable bulk, but they are for the most part distinguished by the merits of the more celebrated pieces in a less prominent, and by the faults in a more prominent, degree. His Guzman d'AlfaracTie is chiefly interesting as a specimen of extremely skilful remaniement, a pro- cess more often applied in modern times to dramatic work than to prose fiction, and which, perhaps, in the case of prose fiction, has never been so well XXIV ALAIN RENE LESAGE. managed as here. M. de Beauchene has, as has been already mentioned, some interesting points of re- semblance to the methods of Defoe. Le Bachelier de Salamanque has a certain interest, because of its connection with the theory or hypothesis of a lost Spanish original of Gil Bias. If Lesage himself may be trusted, there was certainly such an original in the case of the Bachelor, and one of the many suppositions tending to deprive him of the credit of his greatest work suj poses that both were extracted or rehandled from the same work. Estevanille Gonzales is, perhaps, the least attractive of all, while it is also one of the least original, and the translations from the Italian, &c., need not delay us. Among the minor works the chief are : first, a lively and well-written little dialogue, called Une Journfo des Parques, which has had the luck to be oftener reprinted than most of Lesage's opuscida ; secondly, the already-mentioned collection of imagi- nary letters called La Valise Trouvee ; and, lastly, the collection of anecdotes which was the author's last work and which was not published until after his death. Of Lesage, however, it is truer than of most writers, that he is best seen in his best work. His pot-boilers usually have something of his easy style and much of his pleasant subacid wit, but they fail, as a rule, to show the power of truthful character- Rawing which was his greatest merit, and their wit ALAIN RENE LESAGE. XXV itself degenerates into mere smartness more fre- quently than could be wished. Somewhat more notice must be given to his work for the Thedtre de la Foire, not merely because it- has considerable intrinsic merit, but because of its volume, of the constant labour spent on it for full a quarter of a century by the author, and last, but not least, because of its curious form. The pieces which were played at the fairs of Paris were very popular, and their popularity was the subject of constant jealousy on the part of the regular actors of the Thedtre Frangais, though the other two branches of the legitimate drama, the opera and the Come'die Italienne, were sometimes more or less in alliance with their little sister. Not a few of Lesage's pieces deal directly with the vicissitudes of la Foire. The plays represented on these boards were a curious mixture of the commedia dell' arte and the old French farce. Harlequin in particular is an almost invariable character, though the full complement of Pierrot, Scaramouche, Colombine, &c., only occasionally appears. The plays were of three kinds. One of these was drama reduced to nearly its simplest terms. There was no speaking on the stage and the actors confined themselves to pantomime in dumbshow, while two little cherubs sat up aloft with a long roller of wood, from which, from time to time, they unrolled placards Oil which XXVI ALAIN RENE LESAGE. short songs, set to popular airs, were inscribed. These songs were sung by the audience, assisted by the actors and orchestra. Here, of course, the author's work was limited to the conception of the action, the expression of it by stage directions to the actors, and the composition of the songs. A second kind of piece was the Vaudeville proper, in wnich the whole play is written in lyrical couplets. In the third and most elaborate, ordinary prose dialogue is mixed up with songs. This last sometimes attained considerable dimensions and was divided into acts. These popular pieces were, throughout the eighteenth century, composed by authors whose literary standing was by no means low such as Lesage, Piron, Colle", and many others and when a piece had a particular vogue it was not unfrequently transferred, at the command of some great person- age, to the boards of the opera. Our author, as has been said, wrote a very large number of these curious compositions in all the three styles just described. Their literary value is, of course, far from great, but they display a good deal of inven- tion, a command of easy verse, and much less indulgence in the besetting sin of the fair theatre, license of language, than most of their fellows. La Princcsse de Carizme, one of the longest, and possessing something like a plot, is also one of the best, It turns OH the well-known story of a, ALAIN RENE LESAGE. XXVll princess whose "beauty turns all who "behold her mad. But, on the whole, the pieces which deal with the rivalry of the Foire and the graver dramatic institutions are, perhaps, the most amusing. The contrasted display of the Comedie Fran^aise, her solemn tragic airs and the mannerisms of her lighter mood, with the impudent coquettishness of the personified Foire, gave Lesage a good oppor- tunity, of which he did not scruple to avail himself. The contrast, of course, is an old one, and something like it had been frequently brought with success on the popular stage, even in early times. La Querelle des Thtdtres has something in it which reminds the reader of the old morality of Science et Anerye. The music of the pieces, too, has its interest, because it shows the remarkable conservatism of the French populace in these matters. Now-a-days new airs are a sine qua non for a comic opera that is to be suc- cessful. Lesage's pieces are all written to a few score tunes, which remained on duty during the whole eighteenth century, and may be still seen at the head of Beranger's songs a hundred years and more afterwards. But it must, of course, be under- stood that only regular students of literature can be recommended to attack Lesage's Theatre de la Foire. It has received some mention here chiefly because most of his critics have been content to give second-hand judgments of it, and a second* ALAIN RENE LESAGE. hand judgment in matters literary has a habit of going farther and farther from the truth as it passes from pen to pen. The two pieces of Lesage which, if they have not actually kept the stage, have at least secured their place in collections of the French drama, demand a longer mention. I say if they have not kept the stage, for I have no positive knowledge as to the question whether Crispin and Turcaret have of late years been represented. They are certainly amusing enough to read, and Turcaret is something more than amusing. Crispin Rival de son Maltre is a much less ambitious piece than Turcaret. It is, in fact, only a longish farce in one act, but in a great number of scenes. Something of what an English critic once very unjustly called the " exaggerated manner of Moliere " may be observed in it. Indeed, this phrase of Hazlitt has a good deal of truth when applied to this little piece ; it is Moliere's manner exaggerated by recourse to the Spanish style of comedy, from which the great playwright had refined and purified his own. There is the usual impecunious and unlucky lover, but the usual valet, instead of backing his master, enters with another valet into a wild plan for marrying the heroine himself. By playing into each other's hands the two rascals succeed for a time in hoodwinking the father, and, bv gross flattery, in winning oyer the AtAIN RENE LESAGE. XXIX mother to their side. The scheme is upset by the simple fact that the father of the suitor whom Crispin personates soon appears, and by the still simpler one that the master, of course, recognizes and identi- fies his servant. But the intrigue, impossible as it is, is very briskly kept up, and the short bustling scenes hardly allow the audience to reflect on the improbability of the thing. The dialogue is full of brilliancy, rather resembling Congreve than Moliere, and this, being unquestionably the best of its kind that a Parisian audience had heard for a generation, probably secured the popularity of the piece. Tur- caret is a much more important production. It has the full five acts of a regular comedy, and, though its plot is rather loose, the ruin and discomfiture of the financier Turcaret give a sufficient unity to it. The action, too, is well sustained, but the merit of the piece a merit for which it stands almost alone in the French comedy of the eighteenth century lies in the striking projection of the characters and the lively natural traits with which they are drawn. The objection which has been made to these cha- racters that they are rather partial than complete sketches of human nature applies to all French drama and to almost all artificial comedy, whether French or English. It would not be easy to find a French drama, out of Moliere, in which so many figures stand out so strikingly from the canvass, as is At Altf HEM LES AGE. the ca^e in Turcaret. The financier, ashamed of the lowness of his origin, ruthless to his debtors, and a swindler in his dealings with his associates, but capable of being bubbled of his money in the most open fashion by a great lady who condescends to permit his addresses ; his wife, an incarnation of vulgar provincial vice, as desperately jealous of her husband as she is shamelessly unfaithful to him ; the chevalier who exploits Turcaret's mistress just as that mistress exploits Turcaret ; the baroness, not too scrupulous to plunder her suitor so long as she believes his addresses to be honourable, but generous enough and not wholly corrupted; the reckless marquis, who has at least the advantage over his friend, the chevalier, that he is not a knave : all these characters, in themselves mere stock characters of the oldest date, are made to live and breathe by touches of Lesage's genius. The most often-quoted scene of the play, where Madame Turcaret, introduced to the baroness's salon, gives an account of the diversions of Valognes, where " on lit tout les ouvrages d'esprit qu'on fait a Cherbourg, a St. Lo et & Coutances, qui valent bien les ouvrages de Vire et de Caen " is a masterpiece of its kind, and not much less can be said of the adroit servility of the waiting-maid Lisette. Frontin, her lover, has the defect of all the valets who descend from the Menandrian comedy the defect of exceeding improbability but he is not tf RENE LESAG&. more improbable than Moliere's Scapins and Gros Kene"s, and, indeed, not so improbable as some of them. It is also noticeable that, though the dialogue of Turcaret is as full of witticisms as any reasonable man can desire, it has not the fault which is fre- quently noticeable in French manner-comedies and almost always in English the fault of letting mere wit combats occupy the characters to the detri- ment of the dramatic interest of the play. Every- thing in Turcaret tends duly to its end. There are few things more surprising, and perhaps it may be added, less satisfactory, in connection with the theory that a subsidized and established theatre tends to encourage the production of works of genius, than the fact of the subsequent disagreement of the players with Lesage. It is almost inconceivable that the man who wrote such a play should not have had it in him to write others of equal, if not greater, goodness. But, as we have seen, Lesage had no opportunity of improving upon Turcaret 01 repeating his success, being almost immediately diverted from the regular theatre to the Foire, where, whatever he may have done, he certainly did not work for posterity. His dramatic career, indeed, was that of Moliere reversed. The earlier writer began with a long apprenticeship to farce-wilting and then turned his attention to regular comedy, the other began with regular comedy and was afterwards driven to XXXli ALAIN RENE LESAG& farce. "When one considers the special opening which drama presents to a man who, like Lesage, prefers to work on the inventions of others rather than to spin everything out of his own brains, his abandonment of it seems much to be regretted. Perhaps, however, on the whole the world has not lost ; for where a play gives amusement now and then to hundreds, a novel gives it constantly to thousands, and it is extremely improbable that the very best work that Lesage could ever have produced in the way of drama would have added to the sum of human enjoyment as much as Gil Bias has added. It has already been observed that Lesage's manner of dealing with his originals when he wrote prose fiction sometimes resembled the usual manner of dra- matic authors. If, however, this latter manner resem- bled the conduct of the author of Le Diable Boiteux in the composition of this work, the charge of plagiarism which is constantly brought against dramatists could hardly stand. The Liable Boiteux of Lesage and the Diablo Cojuelo of Luis Yelez de Guevara stand to each other in a very curious relation. At first the later work looks almost like a translation of the earlier ; for two chapters it is a translation and very little more. But suddenly Lesage* seems to have felt his own power and strikes off on an entirely new path. Neither the course of the story, nor the conclusion, nor even the great majority of the &EN& LESAGS. XXXlll episodes and detached anecdotes in the Diable Boiteux are derived, even by suggestion, from Guevara, while the simplicity of the French style and the unbroken stream of lively narquois narration con- trast as strongly as anything can do with the euphuism of Guevara and the singular encomiastic digressions on all sorts of personages which figure largely in the Diablo Cojuelo. The substance of the book is made up partly, no doubt, of anecdotes bor- rowed from divers Spanish sources, partly of more or less historical gossip about French men and women of the author's own time Dufresny the comic author, Baron the actor, Ninon de L'Eiicloa are usually specified as figuring partly of inven- tions of Lesage's own. As most people know, or ought to know, the plot is sufficiently simple. A young student, for whom an ambush has been laid by his perfidious mistress, escapes by way of the roof, makes his way into a neighbouring garret, which happens to be the laboratory of a magician, and is besought by a voice out of a phial to deliver the speaker from durance by breaking the bottle. The request is complied with, and the imprisoned sprite turns out to be Asmodeus, Demon de la Luxure. Here almost all borrowing from Guevara ceases. In the Spanish the new confederates journey to different parts of Spain, and the incidents of the story are mainly supplied by the efforts of envious devils to VOL. I. ALAIN REXE LESAG&. recapture Asmodeus. In the French the general plan is based on an exertion of the power of As- modeus, whereby he unroofs the houses of Madrid and exhibits the fortunes of the inmates to the student, Don Cleofas, while an additional human interest is imparted by a fire, in which the good- natured and grateful demon rescues a young lady of high birth in the shape of Cleofas, and thereby secures for his liberator a prosperous marriage. As a connected story, the original, despite its digres- sions and episodes, perhaps has the advantage, though the ultimate decision on this point must be left to those who, unlike the present writer, can speak with equal authority on Spanish and on French literature. Lesage's pre-eminence must be sought in the scattered traits of wit and knowledge of human nature which he sprinkles liberally over his work, and in the brisk and vigorous style wherein the book is written. This latter is the real charm of the Diable, Boiteiix. Lesage took something from La Rochefoucauld, something and perhaps more from St. Evremond, and, availing himself of the general improvement in French prose style which had resulted from the schoolmastering of the academic critics, from Balzac to Boileau, produced a mixture of singular pungency and elegance. Couched as the whole work is in the form of a lengthy dialogue between the demon and Don Cleofas, the author haa AtAIN RENE LESAGE. Availed himself of the characteristics of his cha- racters in a sufficiently artful fashion. The petulance of the student never allows the good demon to engage uninterrupted in too long a narration, but constantly recalls him to this or that interesting incident, which makes a digression in the midst of the histories and prevents any feeling of longueur from stealing on the reader. Now this is a feeling which the general plan of the French- Spanish Roman d'Aventures adopted by Lesage was only too much calculated to produce. The pedigree of stories of this kind was a long one. They arose unques- tionably, on the one hand, from the prose Greek romances to which the Byzantine period gave rise, and on the other from the incomparable romances of chivalry, to use the usual though rather indis- criminate term of which France must claim the invention. To do the Chanson de Geste, the oldest form of the latter variety, justice, digression was not among its faults. But from the first the Greek prose romance seems to have been liable to it, and from the date of the Romans d'Aventures, which express in a way the union of the two, it was a crying sin of the western romance, whether it was written in verse or in prose. Everything by degrees became sacrificed to length, and the easiest way of attaining length was by indulging in numerous episodic excursions. Moral disquisitions, personal ALAIN RENE LESAG&. panegyrics, sentimental discussions on points of ama 1 * tory law, which the earlier seventeenth century had endured, were impossible at the time when Lesage wrote, and he confined himself solely to the story within a story which his English followers, Smollett and Fielding, adopted from him, and which lasted even to the days of Scott, with the advantage to literature of producing what is, perhaps, the best short tale in any language Wandering Willie's legend in Eedgauntlet. By that time, however, the necessity of connecting the digressions definitely and directly with the general story had forced itself on the consideration of the romancer. Lesage's age was less difficult, and his episodes might be cut out without damaging such central story as he has, but with a woful consequence to the total interest and attraction of the book. What saved Le Diable JBoiteiix was, let it be once more repeated, the smart- ness of the satire, the acuteness of the observation of life, and the pure fluent style in which the whole was embodied. The one means which has always been able to move a French audience or body of readers has been the untranslatable malice ; and Lesage possessed the secret of this in an eminent degree. But he had more than this he had also the faculty of informing his malicious side-hits at human nature, with a certain breadth and truth in which Voltaire himself fails except when he is at ALAIN RENE LESAGE. his very best, and of never going out of his way foi a gibe, a mistake only too common among French authors. The fantastic setting ; the absence of any attempt to get into the pulpit and preach, while a certain subtle under-flavour of moralizing reconciled the most moralizing of all centuries ; the urbanity of the style, and the allusions, artfully scattered here and there, to personal adventures and personal gossip, were quite sufficient to attract contemporaries. That the popularity of the Liable Boiteux has been more than ephemeral shows let us repeat it, for it can- not be too often repeated that observation of Nature, enbalmed with due preparation of art, is never likely to lose its hold upon men ; if it were, adieu to literature. The good qualities of Turcaret and the Liable Boiteux appeared in far more striking measure and co-ordinated far more skilfully in the great work which these volumes present once more to the reader in the version of the greatest but one of Lesage's followers. Of the general merits of Gil Bias it is necessary to say very little. Nor is it necessary to add in this particular place anything to what has been said and will be said of the compa- ratively half-hearted estimation in which his country- men have held the writer of this masterpiece. In French histories of literature Lesage holds but a subordinate place, and he is sometimes treated as XXXV111 ALAIN RENE LESAGE. second in the race to Defoe, though it is hardly necessary to say that the first and best of the great Englishman's romances is younger than Gil Bias by nearly five years. Argument and abstract are equally superfluous. How Gil Mas left his scarcely- unwilling kin, how he learnt by bitter experience not to trust too much to flatterers, how he fell among thieves, among the minions of the law, among actors (on whom Lesage took a terrible ven- geance in this book for the treatment they had accorded to him), even those to whom the pleasure pace Mr. James Payn of reading our book is yet to come, know, in virtue of a thousand quotations and allusions in every kind of literature. Of the latter parts of the book, which show in the author some such an idea as that by which Dickens, either before or after the fact, excused the transformation of Mr. Pickwick's character, perhaps less is known by those who have not actually read it. Only one episode the famous and, indeed, immortal relapse of Gil Bias into youthfulness in the matter of the Archbishop of Granada has passed into general knowledge. I shall only say that it is perhaps the very happiest holding up of a mirror to one particular weak place of human nature that I know. Few people perhaps, save reviewers, who are in continual receipt of expostulations from the reviewed, know how eternal is the verity of the presentment. By some unhappy ALAIN RENE LESAGE. XXXIX fortune the particular stanza of the poem, the par- ticular chapter of the novel, the particular juncture of the plot, which the critic happens to blame is the very thing that is best in the book. " On n'a jainais compose* de meilleur home'lie que celle qui a le malheur de n'avoir pas notre approbation:" This is only an illustration of the supreme merit of the book its absolute truth to Nature. But another illustration may, perhaps, be pardonably given. It has been said, or hinted, that in the last two volumes Gil Bias is a much better as well as a much less ridiculous personage than he is in the first this is especially the case in the last. Prosperity, age, the absence of temptation, account for this. But Lesage's unpitying, because absolutely veracious, talent would not suffer him to turn his intriguing fortune-hunter into a saint. The ugly episode of the journey to Toledo, in which the admired minister Olivarez and the respectable reformed rake Gil Bias play such awk- ward parts, is an instance of the truth which is put in the homely phrase Defoe loved " What is bred in the bone will not go out of the flesh." Nbw-a-days, perhaps, when the naturalist school, in its scorn of the namby-pamby, rushes into the opposite extreme and will have nothing but vice and ugliness, such a book as Gil Bias is infinitely more instructive, as well as more refreshing to read, than all the rose-pink pictures of impossible virtues and all the half -told xl ALAIN RENE LESAGE. tales of life with the dark side of it kept out of sight that literature can muster. It will scarcely be pretended by any brisk young novelist of the nine- teenth century that he has more insight than Lesage, scarcely, either, that Lesage was afraid to say what occurred to him or that his literary vocabulary and general equipment were unequal to the task. Yet here is a book as free from cant or from taint of the her&ie de I'enseignement as any one can desire, and which yet leaves no bad taste in the mouth, meddles with no abnormal crimes, and suggests as a total reflexion not merely that all's well that ends well, but that in most cases with fair luck all does end fairly well The question of the origin, or, if the word be pre- ferred, of the originality, of Gil Bias may not be of much intrinsic importance. But its traditional im- portance in the history of literature is considerable, and something, perhaps, must be said about it here. The assertions of the more or less complete indebted- ness of the author to a Spanish original may be classed under three heads. There is, first, the assertion that Oil Bias is taken from the Marcos de, Obregon of Vin- cent Espinel. This was advanced very shortly after the appearance of the book, and currency was given to it by Voltaire, who roundly repeated it, in conse- quence, beyond all doubt, of the galling attacks which Lesage had made upon his early dramatic and ALAIN RENE LESAGE. xli epic efforts, not merely in his farces but in GU Bias itself, where the author of Zaire figures as Don Gabriel Triaquero. The second is due to a Spanish Jesuit author, who, avowedly setting before him the object of claiming Gil Bias for his own country, endeavours to make out that it is simply a transla- tion of a Spanish original. The third is a more elaborate hypothesis and more difficult of disproof its foundation, such as it is, has been already alluded to. It is supposed that Lesage extracted the matter, at least, of Gil Bias, as well as that of the Bacheli&r de Salamanque, from a manuscript Spanish original" which has since disappeared. As to the first charge, it is one of those curiously hazardous ones, the making of which can only be accounted for on the general principle that some of most handfuls of mud which are thrown is likely to stick, for Espinel's work is unanimously confessed by competent examiners to be not in the least like Gil Bias on the whole, though a very few detached traits may have been taken by Lesage from it, as they almost certainly were for others of his prose fictions. The patriotic hypothesis of Father Isla suffers only from the fact that there is not the faintest trace of a Spanish Gil Bias or of any allusion to such a work. As for the third, it is obviously, and on the face of it, as impossible to disprove as to prove. There may have been French Macbcths and Lears from which xlii ALAIN RENE LESAGE. Shakspeare adapted the existing pieces, for aught we know. But, when we dismiss merely hypothetical argument and examine the matter coolly, we find, first, that there is absolutely no external evidence that Lesage did in any way plagiarize Gil Bias; secondly, that there is overwhelming internal evidence that, while he made free use of his Spanish predeces- sors for details, for local colour and so forth the essen- tial part of the book is fairly his own. The " picaroon" romance, as it is called, was a specially Spanish variety of Roman d'Aventures which, abandoning giants and enchanters on the one hand and the long-winded sentimentalities of tJheAmadis and the Scud dry roman- ces on the other, confined itself to the actual life of the still but half-civilized dominions of the King of Spain and to the most exciting incidents of that life. Immense numbers of these books were written by Spaniards during the seventeenth century; and with many, if not the majority, of these Lesage was, we know, familiar. Many of the separate incidents of Gil Bias have been traced to this literature, and, perhaps, more might be so. But there is no reason to believe that the general cadre into which Lesage fitted these is not his own, and there is every reason to believe that the peculiar spirit with which he informs the whole and which gives it its peculiar value is absolutely his. The shrewd wit, neither sententious nor solemn, of his isolated sayings ALAIN RENE LESAGE. xliil is assuredly not Spanish ; the peculiar univer- sality of his indications of the weaknesses of human nature is still less so. There is little of the kind, I may venture to say, in the greatest of Spanish writers, in Cervantes himself ; there is nothing of the kind competent authorities vouch for it in any lesser Spanish writer. To the higher side of Spanish imagination, its poetry, its magnifi- cence, its forgetfulness of the baser sides of life, Lesage has no claim to approach. But in regard to a sort of prosaic infallibility and universality which he has he may as fairly pretend that the Spaniards have nothing of his. If there is little of Don Quixote there is, perhaps, something of Sancho in some of his characters ; but it is only such an agree- ment as writers starting from the most diverse points might attain. To one charge which has been brought against Gil Bias, that of undue length, it is difficult to offer a very valid defence. That this length conduced to the anachronisms which the author admits in a characteristic and sarcastic avertissement is very pro- bable, but these are matters of very little consequence and may be ranked with the sea-coast of Bohemia and Hector's reference to Aristotle. It is of more im- portance that the extreme prolongation of the book has made it it may freely be admitted to a cer- tain extent tedious. Nor does it seem reasonable to ALAIN RENE LESAGE. doubt that this prolongation was, in some degree, artificial that is to say, that the favour with which the book was received and the offers of the pub- lishers very likely induced the author to extend it a good deal more than he had at first designed. Per contra it can only be alleged that, in the peculiar style of which Gil Bias is an example, there is no natural limit to the exposition. The book having no defined plot, but being a picture of quotquot agunt homines in so far as the life of a particular person touches that action, nothing but the death of the hero can be said to bring it to a close. This, indeed, is of the essence of the romance as opposed to the epic, and, in its so-called regular or non-Shakspearean form, the drama. These two latter presuppose a definite and limited plot. The romance does not, and it admits not only an indefinite extension in a straight line, but also digressions and episodes ad infinitum. That this is rather a weakness than a strength of the style may certainly be admitted, and the fact had been sufficiently exemplified, not merely in the mediaeval poem and prose romances but in the Amadis cycle, where the reader is conducted from generation to generation in a manner sufficient to weary the patience of the most robust. But it was characteristic of Lesage that he was an innovator rather in detail than in the general. He did not produce the modern novel that was reserved for hia AlATN KENE LESAGB. xlv foimger contemporary Provost. He only took an existing genre, made many small improvements in it, and produced a masterpiece therein. Perhaps it would be ungrateful to complain when he did so much that he did no more. In the controversies which have arisen about Lesage's greatest work it is not very difficult ' to find a satisfactory explanation of his great and peculiar value. For the Spanish claim absolutely unsupported as it is by one tittle of external evi- dence, and, indeed, as we may almost say, completely as it is rebutted by all such evidence rests in reality on an expressed or understood idea that no one but a native writer could have so dealt with Spain and Spaniards. The retort to the charge is as instructive as the charge itself. Frenchmen appeal to Germans, Englishmen, and other foreigners to decide the cause, and the referees give their decision in a manner which is decisive. Gil Bias, they say, is not specially a Spaniard, though the art of his creator has dressed him up marvellously in the habits, garments and speech of Spain. He is simply a man, and the accuracy with which the author has hit the universal beneath the particular would have equally enabled him, had he chosen, to draw an Englishman or a German, and would have entitled Englishmen or Germans, had they been sufficiently shortsighted, to claim his work as AtAlN RtiNE LESAG&. borrowed or stolen from an English or German original. The reply is unanswerable, and the more one reads Lesage the more convinced one is of the sufficiency of it and the more proof one finds of its truth. It is in this quality of universality, of striking at the essential humanity of men and dealing with their accidental nationality only in such manner as might suit his purpose that Lesage's great genius consists, and in this quality he is, as it seems to me, at the head of all French writers, and only second to Shakspeare. Of course the range of the two is very different, it is even hardly commensurable. Le- sage had his faculty at complete command within certain very restricted limits, but beyond those limits he was not in the least master of it, indeed it can hardly be said that he endeavoured to show it at all. Whether his thorough and comparatively early steeping in one peculiar and extremely artificial kind of literature the picaroon romances and intrigue-dramas of Spain narrowed his mind at the same time that it sharpened it is a question rather of psychology than of literature ; but it is certain that he shows very little tendency to wanderoutof his own narrow circle, and that when he does so he becomes merely an ordinary man of letters, possessed of a pleasant wit and of a ready and skilful pen. But within his circle he hardly yields to the master him- self. Indeed, Gil Bias may hold up his head in ALAlK tlEKE L&SAGE. any company, even in the company of Shakspeare's children. There is the same invariable consistency, the same total absence of false notes, the same com- pleteness of presentation. It was in this latter that Lesage differed most from his countrymen. The fatal doctrine of the ruling passion had made but little impression upon him. In drawing Gil Bias he has not an abstraction of intrigue and courtiership of the lower class before him as a model, he has a man who, for a long time, is given up partly by the un- kindness of fortune, partly by natural bent, to intrigue and courtiership. To the last, touches of Nature, though they naturally grow fewer and fewer, chequer and diversify the presentment. Now this was what the French, since they had given them- selves up to swallow the doctrines and do the bidding of Horace, as represented or misrepresented by the native critics of the Malherbe-Boileau school, could not attain to, and could hardly even under- stand. Had Boileau lived a little longer it may be shrewdly suspected that he would have regarded Gil Mas with much more indignation than that with which he regarded Le Diable JBoiteux, and it is note- worthy that the greater work was far less popular with its author's countrymen than the lesser. They would, doubtless, have liked Achilles to be always iracundus ineocordbilis acer, and would have preferred that Gil Bias should have outwitted the parasite in AtAlti RENE LESAG& the matter of the trout and kept the favour of tlie Archbishop of Granada. Gil Bias, too, is far less full than Le DiaUe Soiteux of the epigrammatic pointes which have never ceased to delight the true Frenchman and, indeed, they are delightful enough and which reach their climax in the writings of Voltaire. Such sayings as : " Vous n'avez pas des ide"es justes de notre enfer" " On nous reconcilia, nous nous embrassames, et depuis ce temps nous sommes ennemis mortels" " Je sais qu'il-y-a de bons remedes mais je ne sais pas s'il-y-a de bons ine'decins" " Tout payeur est traite comme un mari," and a hundred things besides, are worthy of the author of Candide at his very best, and his country- men could not fail to relish them. They were less keen to relish such a presentment as that of Gil Bias, and therefore Lesage's fame, great as it has been even in France, has been more European than French, and he is to be quoted and compared with foreigners rather than with his countrymen. There is another point of importance in which Lesage has a resemblance to Shakspeare. He has not merely in some not small measure the quality of universality, but he has, and this in very great measure, the quality of detachment. He seems to look at his characters with the same inscrutable im- partiality as that with which their creator contem- plates lago and Goneril, Macbeth and Claudius. He ALAIN RENE LESAGE. xlix does not describe their monkey tricks with any particular gusto, at least of a personal kind, nor does he regard them with the least moral indignation. All that does not concern him. Writing as he did in a period of very low morality there probably never was a time when the general moral standard was lower in Europe than in the first half of the eighteenth century and taking for his models a mass of writings dealing with unscrupulous adventures and intrigue, he has had to describe what is bad much oftener than what is good. But it is impossible to say either that he gloats over the vices and follies which he describes, or that he records them with cynical amusement, or that he holds them up for righteous detestation. The least little appearance of the second attitude may sometimes be found in the utterances of Asmodeus, which are as personal as anything we have of his ; but even this is, for the most part, dramatic merely. This quality, beyond all doubt, is connected with the former, and is, indeed, to a great extent implied by it. When a man is very much in earnest about points of morality, still more when he writes definitely with a moral or im- moral purpose, he seldom succeeds in giving us the complete presentation of his characters. He is bribed, without knowing it, by his prepossessions, he cannot help, if he objects to the established stan- dards of morality, softening the vicious characters l ALAIN HENE LESAG& unduly, or hardening them unduly if he be among the moral sub-division of the heretics of instruction. I do not know that Lesage has been much examined by the strenuous advocates of the moral element in literature, though they have not neglected Fielding, his English parallel. The fact is that Fielding's irregu- lar life rather assists them, while the little that is known of Lesage goes to show that he was in his own person an exemplary liver. It is, however, true that the resemblances between Fielding and Lesage are great, not merely in that they adopted the same general conception of the novel, but that they succeeded in working out that conception and in bringing their characters, or some of them, under the species ceternitatis. An English- man naturally speaks with some caution about Field- ing, because he himself is not in so good a position as foreigners to judge how far Fielding has accom- plished this. Englishmen, .however, are the best possible judges of Lesage, because they are equally free from bias connected with the language in which he writes and from bias connected with the country which he illustrates. There is one important and intricate question which can hardly be passed over, though here, at least, it can only be very summarily dealt with. It has been said that until the present century no French writer, except Montaigne and Eabelais AtAlti RENE LESAGK. \l deserves the title of humorist, and this would, of course, exclude Lesage. On the other hand, the exclusion has been objected to in the interest of some mediaeval writers. The truth is, that the whole question turns on one of the most disputed points in literature the definition of humour. If, as it has been admirably put, the humorist is a man who " thinks in jest when he feels in earnest ;" or if, as Thackeray puts it, he is a weekday preacher, then Lesage most assuredly is not one. For not only has he no direct moral purpose, which, indeed, is oftener than not fatal to humour, but it is diffi' cult to discern that he has, as Eabelais, Montaigne, and Shakspeare had, any general theory or grasp of the world or of life, whether poetical, ironical, or sceptical, which could supply him with the neces- sary background for humour. Neither had he, like Fielding and Thackeray himself, a passionate interest in that world a sympathy with it which, in its way, is also sufficient to bring out the strokes of the strange invisible ink called humour. It would seem, therefore, that his exclusion is justified, and as he shares it with Moliere, and even with Lafontaine, he need not be ashamed of his company. Like these still greater men, however, he had a wit so fine, so flexible, so far transcending the ordinary limitations of wit, that it almost amounted to humour, and may be said to be practically a substitute for it. irt ALAIN RENE LESAG& This brings us to the consideration of a point of very great importance the style of Lesage. In all such cases the modern reader who merely looks back is very likely to be deceived by his point of view. Yet even the modern reader, if he has but some notion of the date of his author, must, I should think, be conscious of a singular modernness in Gil Bias and the Liable Boiteux compared with Bossuet, Fe"nelon, even Malebranche, and still more with Madame de Se"vigne and Saint-Simon. Lesage, indeed, was one of aline of great writers chiefly of tiie lighter kind, who, perhaps, did most of any of their contemporaries to shape French style, as it has been generally understood until recently. Saint-Evremond and Pascal are the earliest of these, and Lesage, taking up the torch, handed it on to Voltaire. It is noteworthy that Voltaire, perhaps on the principle of kicking down his ladders, was unjust both to Saint-Evremond and to Lesage, though, as has been said, the latter had certainly provoked him. The great distinction of Lesage is the extreme ease of his writing and the manner in which his good things, such as those already cited above, drop naturally out in the midst of his narrative or dialogue, with- out any effort or apparent leading up. It would demand a much greater acquaintance with Spanish literature than any to which I, even at second-hand, can pretend, to decide whether his studies had any- ALAIN RE$f LESAGE. liii thing to do with this ; but I think that it may he tolerably safely assumed that they had not, except by way of contrast ; for many, if not most, of the works which Lesage translated or followed were written in the extremest gongorist or conceited style a style as remote from his as Lyly's from Steele's. It may possibly be contended that it was in fighting against this excess that Lesage learnt the secret of a wise economy. Certainly, there are not merely few writers in whom there is so little archaism, affectation, mannerism, or deliberate oddity and obscurity, but also few in whom the style is so absolutely plain and unadorned, without being in the least vulgar, or, in the unfavourable sense, homely. His autobiographies, probably owing to this, have, more than most autobiographies, the air of being really told by a speaker and not elaborated in the 'study. There are no ponderous sentences, no phrases over which the reader sees that the pen has hung a long time, and, as has been already noted, none of the leading-up and pre- paration which certain witty writers are unable to avoid or to conceal. The most commonplace things are said with perfect simplicity, and yet, somehow or other, in a way on which it is impossible to improve. It must be a bold man who thinks he can better a saying of Lesage's, and that not because of any tour deforce of unusual phrase o? llT ALAIN RENE LESAGE. out-of-the-way thought, but, on the contrary, because the simplicity has reached the lowest term. Nothing can be taken away, and nothing can be added that is not a useless addition. The question of his alleged plagiarisms has been already, to some extent, dealt with. It has been shown, that is to say, that in the way of absolute stealing the charge has not the slightest probability. The strongest argument of all is, indeed, that when we see what he did with originals which we possess, such as Guzman d'Alfarache and the Diablo Cojuelo, there could be no motive for discreditable appro- priation in other cases. But, when the charge in its offensive sense has been laid aside, it remains to consider the use which he did make of puUica materies. There can be no doubt that, as was the case with Shakspeare and Moliere and many other men of the very greatest genius, he made wholesale and indiscriminate use thereof. There is proof of this in many cases ; there is probability of it in many more. Indeed, there is in this and other instances almost ground for the paradox that it is only men of little creative power who are scrupulously original. Many very small poets, by luck or by care, have kept free from the charge of indebtedness to anybody, while Shakspeare calmly versifies whole pages of North's " Plutarch ;" while Moliere com- pels restitution of his goods from the unlucky ALAIN RENE LESAGE. Iv people who happened to possess them first without, the least scruple ; while Milton lays Dutch drama- tists and French epic poets and Italian opera librettists under contribution as coolly as if they had been Eoyalist squires. In Lesage's case there is, however, something more than this. In the three great cases just mentioned, and in many others, it is only now and then that the borrowers condescend to borrow ; it is a passing freak, or, to speak more respectfully and with more critical truth, an occasional conviction that here are the tools of which they themselves can make the best use. But there are some men, and those not among the least in literature, who, from a certain idiosyncrasy, which may, perhaps, be termed an indolence of brain, have seemed to prefer always, when it was possible, to work on beaten tracks and to take their start from some already-accomplished work. The most remarkable example of this variety of talent in English literature is Dryden ; the most remark- able in French literature is beyond all question Lesage. Yet Lesage must in respect of absolute originality be ranked below Dryden, because his greatest work, though its substance may be inde- pendent enough, springs in point of general design directly from Spanish originals, while the greatest work of Dryden, his satiric and didactic pieces, was not directly suggested by anything precedent. It Ivi ALAIN RENE LESAGE. may "be said, indeed, that, of the four productions which we have singled out as exhibiting Lesage at his best, the two dramas are far more original than the two novels. Whether Lesage, had he been more favoured by the exponents of the regular drama and had he devoted himself longer thereto, would have produced something even more original than Crispin and Turcaret must be left among the merely scholastic problems of literature, the " might-have-beens" inquiry into which is bootless and idle. The time, however, had not come for any innovation on the set lines of French comedy and tragedy, even had the author been disposed for such innovation, and it is noteworthy enough that, when in his specially- chosen province of the Theatre de la Foire an oppor- tunity appeared for a bold stroke, he declined it. On one occasion the jealousy of the regular actors had procured a police edict restricting their rivals to a single personage. The managers of the fair stage were in despair, for neither Lesage nor any of their other regular contributors would attempt the task of a monodrama, and recourse had to be had to the untried and fitful but fertile genius of Piron, whose Arleguin Deucalion got them out of the difficulty. This anecdote seems to argue a certain indisposition to try experiments which is consistent enough with what we have of Lesage's work. It must be remembered, too, that he did not begin literary labour ALAIN RENE LESAGE. Ivii very young, and that he did not make any great success in it until he was already a man of middle age. There are not wanting examples of striking origin- ality in conception as well as striking power of execution displayed by late-writing authors. But on the whole it may, perhaps, be safely said that invention is a habit as much as any other, and that it is a habit which is for the most part only acquired in youth. Such are the principal critical points which present themselves in the life of this great novelist and master of French prose. As one turns over the leaves of a library catalogue and sees the immense number of editions, translations, and what not, that Gil Bias has gone through and undergone in its century-and-a-half of life, it is impossible not to draw the conclusion that its goodness is a matter settled and out of hand. One generation may make egregious mistakes, and constantly does make egregious mistakes, about an author, leaving him to unjust neglect, or awarding to him still more absurd triumphs. Subsequent generations may, in a way, continue the mistake by leaving the justice of the verdict, for or against, undisturbed, because the evidence is undisturbed likewise. But when a book has actually been read by half-a-dozen suc-> cessive sets of the inhabitants of the earth, when ita most remarkable incidents arid characters have be* iviii ALAIN RENE LESAGE. come part of the common stock of furniture pos- sessed even by a very modest housekeeper in things literary, then there is not much reason for question- ing the value. The works, even the hest works, of Lesage are, of course, not good throughout. Even in Le Didble Boiteux, despite its moderate length, there are longueurs, and there are most assuredly longueurs in Gil Bias. Some of it is obsolete, some could be well spared now, some, it is difficult not to think, could have been well spared at any time. But its best things are as fresh as ever and are likely to continue so as long as human nature exists. The opening chapters, the address to the reader Lesage was never happier than his ad- dresses to the reader, prefaces, and such like things the episodes of Sangrado and the Archbishop, half a hundred things beside, are as amusing to read for the twentieth time as for the first. What is, per- haps, of more importance, the same may be said of the best passages, even in the work which has been less favoured by the general approbation. But at the same time no one who weighs his words will attempt to deny that Lesage has produced a con- siderable amount of inferior work side by side with his masterpieces. Nor can it be denied that, as has been more than once here allowed, his range is but limited and that he seems to require a somewhat un- usual Amount of prompting and crutching before hg ALAIN RENE LESAGE. lix is able to make his bow and say Ms say. These things debar him from the place among the chosen, few of the writers of his country to which the wonderful success of his best work and the purity of his style would otherwise entitle him. In theoretical originality, in variety of work, in con- struction, he is very deficient. Gil Bias drags rather than hastens to its end, the author having failed completely to extricate himself from the toils of the endless episodes and digressions of his Spanish models. Turcaret in the same manner lacks unity and precision of plot. Excellence of style and surprising fidelity to human nature in character-drawing these are the two pillars of Lesage's renown, and it is solidly established upon them. He is thus one of the few writers, to return to the point from which we started, of whom it can be definitely said that, if he had been in more fortunate worldly circumstances, he would have done better, unless, which is, perhaps, equally pro- bable, he had done nothing at all. Necessity was with him, as with others, the mother of invention the invention, that is to say, of his own talent. But with gifts which do not fall to the lot of one writer in a thousand, he did not always or very often succeed in getting those gifts into perfect working order. His selection of foreign subjects, and the very natural, though very unjust, suspicion of grave IX ALAIN RENE LESAGS. indebtedness to foreign models, have also worked against his fame. Yet, with those who have con- sidered novel-writing seriously, he will always rank as one of the princes of character-drawing in its largest and most human sense, while with those who busy themselves with the history of French literature he will always hold the rank of the best writer of the first quarter of the eighteenth century. HISTORY OF GIL BLAS OF SANTILLANE. BOOK THE FIRST. CHAPTER I. THE BIRTH AND EDUCATION OF GIL BLAS. MY father, Bias of Santillane, after having borne arms for a long time in the Spanish service, retired to his native place. There he married a chamber- maid who was not exactly in her teens, and I made my debut on this stage ten months after marriage. They afterwards went to live at Oviedo, where my mother got into service, and my father obtained a situation equally adapted to his capacities as a squire. As their wages were their fortune, I might have got my education as I could, had it not been for an uncle of mine in the town, a canon, by name Gil Perez. He was my mother's eldest brother, and my godfather. Figure to yourself a little fellow, three feet and a half high, as fat as you can conceive, with a head sunk deep between his shoulders, and you have my uncle to the life. For the rest of his qual- ities, he was an ecclesiastic, and of course thought of nothing but good living, I mean in the flesh as 14 GIL SLAS. well as in the spirit, with the means of which good living his stall, no lean one, provided him. He took me home to his own house from my in- fancy, and ran the risk of my bringing up. I struck him as so brisk a lad, that he resolved to cultivate my talents. He bought me a primer, and undertook my tuition as far as reading went : which was not amiss for himself as well as for me ; since by teach- ing me my letters he brushed up his own learning, which had not been pursued in a very scholastic manner ; and, by dint of application, he got at last to read his breviary out of hand, which he had never been able to do before. He would have been very glad to have taught me Latin, to save expense, but, alas ! poor Gil Perez ! he had never skimmed the first principles of it in the whole course' of his life. I should not wonder if he was the most ignorant member of the chapter ; though on a subject involv- ing as many possibilities as there were canons, I presume not to pledge myself for anything like cer- tainty. To be sure, I have heard it suggested, that he did not gain his preferment altogether by his learning : but that he owed it exclusively to the gratitude of some good nuns whose discreet factor he had been, and who had credit enough to procure him the order of priesthood without the troublesome ceremony of an examination. He was obliged therefore to place me under the correction of a master, so that I was sent to Doctor Godinez, who had the reputation of being the most accomplished pedant of Oviedo. I profited so well AND EbtfCATIOtf. 15 under his instructions, that by the end of five or six years I could read a Greek author or two, and had no very inadequate conception of the Latin poets. Besides my classical studies, I applied to logic, which enabled me to become an expert arguer. I now fell in love with discussions of all kinds to such an excess, that I stopped his majesty's subjects on the high road, acquaintance or strangers, no matter ! and proposed some knotty point of controversy. Sometimes I fell in with a clan of Irish, and an altercation never comes amiss to them ! That was your time, if you are fond of a battle. Such ges- tures ! such grimaces ! such contortions ! Our eyes sparkling, arid our mouths foaming ! Those who did not take us for what we affected to be, philoso- phers, must have set us down for madmen. But let that be as it will, I gained the reputation of no small learning in the town. My uncle was delighted, because he prudently considered that I should so much the sooner cease to be chargeable to him. Come here, Gil Bias, quoth he one day, you are got to be a fine fellow. You are past seventeen, and a clever lad : you must bestir yourself, and get forward in the world. I think of sending you to the University of Salamanca : with your wit, you will easily get a good post. I will give you a few ducats for your journey, and my mule, which will fetch ten or twelve pistoles at Salamanca, and with such a sum at setting out, you will be enabled to hold up your head till you get a situation. He could not have proposed to me anything more agreeable : for I was dying to see a little of life. At the same time, I was not such a fool as to betray my satisfaction ; and when it came to the hour of parting, by the sensibility I discovered at taking leave of my dear uncle, to whom I was so much obliged, and by calling in the stage effect of grief, I so softened the good soul, that he put his hand deeper into his pocket than he would have done, could he have pried into all that was passing in the interior of my hypocritical little heart. Before my departure I took a last leave of my papa and mam- ma, who loaded me with an ample inheritance of good advice. They enjoined me to pray to God for my uncle, to go honestly through the world, not to engage in any ill, and above all, not to lay my hands on other people's property. After they had lectured me for a good while, they made me a pres- ent of their blessing, which was all my patrimony and all my expectation. As soon as I had received it, I mounted my mule, and saw the outside of the town. 'tut" CHAPTER II. GIL BIAS" ALARM ON HIS ROAD TO PEGNAFLOR; HIS AD- VENTURES ON HIS ARRIVAL IN THAT TOWN; AND THE CHARACTER OF THE MEN WITH WHOM HE SUPPED. HERE I am, then, on the other side of Oviedo, on the road to Pegnaflor, with the world before me, as yet my own master, as well as master of a bad JOURNEY TO PEGNAFLOR. 1? mule and forty good ducats, without reckoning on a little supplementary cash purloined from my much- honored uncle. The first thing I did was to let my mule go as the beast liked, that is to say, very lazi- ly. I dropped the rein, and taking out my ducats, began to count them backwards and forwards in my hat. I was out of my wits for joy, never having seen such a sum of money before, and could not help looking at it and sifting it through my fingers. I had counted it over about the twentieth time, when all at once my mule, with head raised and ears pricked up, stood stock still in the middle of the high road. I thought to be sure something was the matter ; looked about for a cause, and perceiving a hat upon the ground, with a rosary of large beads, at the same time heard a lugubrious voice pronounce these words : Pray, honored master, have pity on a poor maimed soldier ! Please to throw a few small pieces into this hat ; you shall be rewarded for it in the other world. I looked immediately on the side whence the voice proceeded ; and saw just by a thicket, twenty or thirty paces from me, a sort of a soldier, who had mounted the barrel of a confounded long carbine on two cross sticks, and seemed to be taking aim at me. At a sight which made me trem- ble for the patrimony of the church committed to my care, I stopped short, made sure of my ducats, and taking out a little small change, as I rode by the hat, placed to receive the charity of those quiet subjects who had not the courage to refuse it, dropped in my contribution in detail, to convince the soldier how 18 GIL BLAS. nobly I dealt by him. He was satisfied with my liberality, and gave me a blessing for every kick I gave my mule in my impatience to get out of his way ; but the infernal beast, without partaking in the slightest degree of my impatience, went at the old steady pace. A long custom of jogging on fair and softly under my uncle's weight had obliterated every idea of that motion called a gallop. The prospect of my journey was not much im- proved by this adventure as a specimen. I con- sidered within myself that I had yet some distance to Salamanca, and might, not improbably, meet with something worse. My uncle seemed to have been very imprudent not to have consigned me to the care of a muleteer. That, to be sure, was what he ought to have done ; but his notion was, that by giving me his mule my journey would be cheaper; and that entered more into his calculation than the dangers in which I might be involved on the road. To retrieve his error, therefore, I resolved, if I had the good luck to arrive safe at Pegnaflor, to offer my mule for sale, and take the opportunity of a muleteei going to Astorga, whence I might get to Salamanca by a similar conveyance. Though I had never been out of Oviedo, I was acquainted with the names of the towns through which I was to pass ; a species of information I took care to procure before my setting out. I got safe and sound to Pegnaflor, and stopped at the door of a very decent-looking inn. My foot was scarcely out of the stirrup before the landlord was at MS ADVENTURES THE^E. \Q niy side, overwhelming me with public-house civility. He untied my cloak-bag with his own hands, swung it across his shoulders, and ushered my honor into a room, while one of his men led my mule to the sta- ble. This landlord, the most busy prattler of the Asturias, ready to bother you impertinently about his own concerns, and at the same time with a suf- ficient portion of curiosity to worm himself into the knowledge of yours, was not long in telling me that his name was Andrew Corcuelo ; that he had seen some service as a sergeant in the army, which he had quitted fifteen months ago, and married a girl of Castropol, who, though a little tawny or so, knew how to make both ends meet as well as the best of them. He told me a thousand things besides which he might just as well have kept private. Thinking himself entitled, after this voluntary confidence, to an equal share of mine, he asked me in a breath, and without further preface, whence I came, whither I was going, and who I was. To all tlu's I felt my- self bound to answer, article by article, because, though rather abrupt in asking them, he accom- panied each question with so apologetic a bow, be- seeching me with so submissive a grimace not to be offended at his curiosity, that I was drawn in to gratify it, whether I would or no. Thus by degrees did we get into a long conversation, in the course of which I took occasion to hint, that I had some rea- sons for wishing to get rid of my mule, and travel under convoy of a muleteer. He seemed on the whole to approve of my plan, though he could not 20 GIL LAS. prevail with himself to tell me so briefly ; for he in* troduced his remarks by descanting on all the possi- ble and probable mischances to which travellers are liable on the road, not omitting an awkward story now and then. I thought the fellow would never have done. But the conclusion of the argument was, that if I wanted to sell my mule, he knew an honest jockey who would take it off my hands. I begged he would do me the favor to fetch him, which was no sooner said than done. On his return he introduced the purchaser, with a high encomium on his integrity. We all three went into the yard, and the mule was brought out to show paces before the jockey, who set himself to examine the beast from head to foot. His report was bad enough. To be sure, it would not have been easy to make a good one ; but if it had been the pope's mule, and this fellow was to cheapen the bargain, it would have been just the same : nay, to speak with all due reverence, if he had been asked to give an opinion of the pope's great toe, from that dispara- ging habit of his, he would have pronounced it no better than the toe of any ordinary man. He laid it down therefore, as a principle, that the mule had all the defects a mule could have ; appealing to the landlord for a confirmation of his judgment, who, doubtless, had reasons of his own for not controvert- ing his friend's assertion. Well ! says the jockey, with an air of indifference, what price have you the conscience to ask for this devil of an animal ? After such a panegyric, and master Corcuelo's certificate, SELLS HIS MULE. 21 whom I was fool enough to take for a fair-dealing man and a good judge of horseflesh, they might have had the mule for nothing. I therefore told the deal- er that I threw myself on his mercy : he must fix his own sum, and I should expect no more. On this, he began to affect the gentleman, and answered that I had found out the weak side when I left it to his honor. He was right enough in that ! His hon- or was his weak side ! for instead of bidding up to my uncle's estimate of ten or twelve pistoles, the rascal had the impudence to offer three ducats, which I accepted with as light a heart as if I had got the best of the bargain. Having disencumbered myself of my mule in so tradesmanlike a manner, I went with my landlord to a carrier who was to set out early the next morning for Astorga, and engaged to call me up in time. When we had settled the hire of the mule, as well as the expenses on the road, I turned back towards the inn with Corcuelo, who, as we went along, got into the private history of this muleteer. When I had been pestered with all the tittle-tattle of the town about this fellow, the changes were just beginning to ring on some new subject ; but, by good luck, a pretty-looking sort of a man very civilly interruptecf my loquacious friend. I left them together, and sauntered on, without the slightest suspicion of be- ing at all concerned in their discourse. I ordered supper as soon as I got to the inn. It was a fish day : but I thought eggs were better Suited to my finances. While they were getting 22 GIL BLAS. ready I joined in conversation with the landlady, whom I had not seen before. She seemed a pretty piece of goods enough, and such a stirring body, that I should have concluded, if her husband had not told me so, her tavern must have plenty of cus- tom. The moment the omelet was served up, I sat down to table by myself, and had scarcely got the relish of it, when my landlord walked in, followed by the man who had stopped him in the street. This pleasant gentleman wore a long rapier, and might, perhaps, be about thirty years of age. He came up to me in the most friendly manner possible. Mr. Professor, says he, I have just now heard that you are the renowned Gil Bias of Santillane, that ornament of Oviedo and luminary of philosophy. And do my eyes behold that very greatest of all great scholars and wits, whose reputation has run hither so fast before him ! Little do you think, con- tinues he, directing his discourse to the landlord and landlady, little do you imagine, I say, what good luck has befallen you. Why, you have got hold of a treasure. In this young gentleman you behold the eighth wonder of the world. Then running up and throwing his arms about my neck, Excuse me, added he ; but worlds would not bribe me to sup- press the rapturous emotions your honored presence has excited. I could not answer him so glibly as I wished, not so much for want of words as of breath ; for he hugged me so tight that I began to be alarmed for my wind-pipe. As soon, however, as I had got my CHARACTER OF HIS GUEST. 23 head out of durance, I replied, Signer cavalier, I had not the least conception that my name was known at Pegnaflor. Known? resumed he in the same pompous style ; we keep a register of all great persons within a circuit of twenty leagues round us. You have the character of a prodigy here ; and I have not a shadow of doubt, but one day or other Spain will be as proud of numbering you among her rare productions, as Greece of having given birth to her seven wise men. This fine speech was followed as before ; and I really began to think that with all my classical honors I should at last be doomed to share the fate of Antteus. If I had been master of ever so little experience, I should not have been the dupe of his rhodomontade. I must have discovered him, by his outrageous compliments, to be one of those parasites who swarm in every town, and get into a stranger's company on his arrival, to appease the wolf in their stomachs at his expense ; but my youth and vanity tempted me to draw a quite oppo- site conclusion. My admirer was very clever in my eyes, and I asked him to supper on the strength of it. Oh ! most willingly, cried he : with all my heart and soul. My fortunate star predominates, now that I have the honor of being in company with the illus- trious Gil Bias of Santillane, and I shall certainly make the most of my good fortune as long as it lasts. My appetite is rather delicate, but I will just sit down with you by way of being sociable, and if I can swallow a bit ! only just not to look eulky ; for we philosophers are careless of the body. 24 GIL BLAS. These words were no sooner out of his mouth, than my panegyrist took his seat opposite to me. A cover was laid for him in due form and order. First he fell on the omelet with as much persever- ance as if he had not tasted food for three whole days. By the complacency with which he eyed it I was morally certain the poor pancake was at death's door. I therefore ordered its heir apparent to succeed ; and the business was despatched with such speed, that the second made its appearance on the table, just as we ; no : I beg pardon ; just as he had taken the last lick of its predeces- sor. He pressed forward the main business, how- ever, with a diligence and activity proportioned to the importance of the object he had in view : so that he contrived to load me with panegyric on panegyric, without losing a single stroke in the progress of mastication. Now all this gave me no slender conceit of my pretty little self. When a man eats, he must drink. The first toast of course was my health. The second, in common civility, was my father and mother, whose happiness in hav- ing such an angel of a son, he could not sufficiently envy or admire. All this while he kept filling my glass, and challenging me to keep pace with him. It was impossible to be backward in doing justice to such excellent toasts and sentiments : the com- pliments with which they were seasoned did not come amiss ; so that I got into such a convivial mood, at observing our second omelet to disappear pot insensibly, as just to ask the landlord if he could THE PARASITE'S LESSON. 25 not find us a little bit of fish. Master Corcuelo, who to all appearance played booty with the para- site, told me he had an excellent trout ; but those who eat him must pay for him. I am afraid he is meat for your masters. Meat for our masters ! ex- claims my very humble servant in an angry tone of voice : that is more than you know, my friend. Are you yet to learn that the best of your larder is not too good for the renowned Gil Bias of San- tillane? Go where he will, he is fit to table with princes. I was very glad that he took up the landlord's last expression ; because if he had not, I should. I felt myself a little hurt at it, and said to Corcuelo with some degree of hauteur : Produce this trout of yours, and I will take the consequences. The landlord, who had got just what he wanted, set him- self to work, and served it up in high order. At the first glance of this tliird course I saw such pleas- ure sparkling in the parasite's eyes, as to prove him to be of a very complying temper ; just as ready to do a kindness by the fish, as by those said eggs of which he had given so good an account. But at last he was obliged to lay down his arms, for fear of accidents ; as his magazine was crammed to the very throat. Having eaten and drank his fill, he bethought him of putting a finishing hand to the farce. Master Gil Bias, said he, as he rose from the table, I am too well pleased with my princely entertainment, to leave you without a word of ad- vice, of which you seem to stand in much need. 26 GIL BLAS. From this time forward be on your guard against extravagant praise. Do not trust men till you know them. You may meet with many another man, who, like me, may amuse himself at your expense, and perhaps carry the joke a little further. But do not you be taken in a second time, to believe yourself, on the word of such fellows, the eighth wonder of the world. With this sting in the tail of his fare- well speech he very coolly took his leave. I was as much alive to so ridiculous a circum- stance, as I have ever been in after-life to the most severe mortifications. I did not know how to rec- oncile myself to the idea of having been so egregi- ously taken in, or, in fact, to lowering of my pride. So, so ! quoth I, this rascal has been putting his tricks upon travellers, has he? Then he only want- ed to pump my landlord ! or more likely they were both in a story. Ah ! my poor Gil Bias, thou hadst better hide thy silly head ! To have suffered such knaves as these to turn thee into ridicule ! A pretty story they will make of this ! It is sure to travel back to Oviedo : and will give our friends a hopeful prospect of thy success in life. The family will be quite delighted to think what a blessed harvest all their pious advice has produced. There was no oc- casion to preach up morals to thee ; for verily thou hast more of the dupe than the sharper in thy com- position. Ready to tear my eyes out or bite my fingers off from spite and vexation, I locked myself up in my chamber and went to bed, but not to sleep ; of which I had not got a wink when the muleteer THE LANDLORD'S BILL. 27 came to tell me, that he only waited for me to set out on his journey. I got up as expeditiously as I could ; and while I was dressing Corcuelo put in his appearance, with a little bill in his hand ; a slight memorandum of the trout ! But paying through the nose was not the worst of it ; for I had the vex- ation to perceive, that while I was counting over the cost, this hang-dog was chuckling at the recollec- tion of the night before. Having been fleeced most shamefully for a supper, which stuck in my stomach though I had scarcely come in for a morsel of it, I joined the muleteer with my baggage, giving to as many devils as there are saints in the calendar, the parasite, the landlord, and the inn. CHAPTER III. THE MULETEER'S TEMPTATION ON THE ROAD; ITS CONSE, QUENCES, AND THE SITUATION OF GIL BLAS BETWEEN SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS. I WAS not the only passenger. There were two young gentlemen of Pegnaflor ; a little chorister of Mondognedo, who was travelling about the country, and a young tradesman of Astorga, returning home from Verco with his new-married wife. We soon got acquainted, and exchanged the usual confidence of travellers, telling one another whence we came and whither we were going. The bride was young enough ; but so dark-complexioned, with so little of 28 GIL BLAS. what a man likes to look at in a woman, that I did not think her worth the trouble. But she had youth and a good crummy person on her side, and the muleteer, being rather less nice in his taste, was re- solved to try if he could not get into her good graces. This pretty project occupied his ingenuity during the whole day ; but he deferred the execution till we should get to Cacabelos, the last place where we were to stop on the road. We alighted at an inn in the outskirts of the town, a quiet convenient place, with a landlord who never troubled himself about other people's concerns. We were ushered into a private room, and got our supper snugly ; but just as the cloth was taken away in comes our carrier in a furious passion : Death and the devil ! I have been robbed. Here had I a hundred pistoles in my purse ! But I will have them back again. I am going for a magistrate ; and those gentry will not take a joke upon such serious subjects. You will all be put to the rack, unless you confess, and give back the money. The fellow played his part very naturally, and burst out of the room, leaving us in a terrible fright. We had none of us the least suspicion of the trick, and, being all strangers, were afraid of one another. I looked askance at the little chorister, and he, per- haps, had no better opinion of me. Besides, we were all a pack of greenhorns, and were quite unac- quainted with the routine of business on these occa- sions. We were fools enough to believe that the torture would be the very first stage of our exanijna- Ttlti MULETEER'S TRICK. 29 tion. With this dread upon our spirits, we all made for the door. Some effected their escape into the street, others into the garden ; but the whole party preferred the discretion of running away to the valor of standing their ground. The young tradesman of Astorga had as great an objection to bone-twisting as the rest of us : so he did as Eneas, and many another good husband has done before him ; ran away, and left his wife behind. At that critical moment the muleteer, as I was told afterwards, who had not half so much sense of decency as his own mules, delighted at the success of his stratagem, be- gan moving his motives to the citizen's wife : but this Lucrece of the Asturias, borrowing the chastity of a saint from the ugliness of the devil who tempted her, defended her sweet person tooth and nail ; and showed she was in earnest about it by the noise she made. The patrol, who happened to be passing by the inn at the time, and knew that the neighborhood required a little looking after, took the liberty of just asking the cause of the disturbance. The landlord, who was trying if he could not sing in the kitchen louder than she could scream in the parlor, and swore he heard no music but his own, was at last obliged to introduce the myrmidons of the police to the dis- tressed lady, just in time to rescue her from the ne- cessity of a surrender at discretion. The head offi- cer, a coarse fellow, without an atom of feeling for the tender passion, no sooner saw the game that was playing, than he gave the amorous muleteer five or six blows with the butt end of his halberd, represent- &C) GIL BLAS. ing to him the indecency of his conduct in terms; quite as offensive to modesty as the naughty propen- sity which had called forth his virtuous indignation. Neither did he stop here; but laid hold of the culprit, and carried plaintiff and defendant before the magistrate. The former, with her charms all heightened by the discomposure of her dress, went eagerly to try their effect in obtaining justice for the outrage they had sustained. His worship heard at least one party ; and after solemn deliberation pro- nounced the offence to be of a most heinous nature. He ordered him to be stripped, and to receive a com- petent number of lashes in his presence. The 'con- clusion of the sentence was, that if the Endymioh of Asturian Diana was not forthcoming the next day, a couple of guards should escort the disconsolate god- dess to the town of Astorga, at the expense of this mule-driving Acteon. For my part, being probably more terrified than the rest of the party, I got into the fields, scamper- ing over hedge and ditch, through enclosures and across commons, till I found myself hard by a forest. I was just going for concealment to ensconce myself in the very heart of the thicket, when two men on horseback rode across me, crying, Who goes there? As my alarm prevented me from giving them an im- mediate answer, they came to close quarters, and holding each of them a pistol to my throat, required me to give an account of myself; who I was, whence I came, what business I had in that forest, and above all, not to tell a lie about it. Their rough interrog- BtfMOtt Of FREEBOOTERS. 31 gatives were, according to my notion, little better than the rack with which our friend the muleteel had offered to treat us. I represented myself, how- ever, as a young man on my way from Oviedo to Salamanca ; told the story of our late fright, and faithfully attributed my running away in such a hurry to the dread of a worse exercise under the torture. They burst into an immoderate fit of laughter at my simplicity ; and one of them said : Take heart, my little friend ; come along with us, and do not be afraid ; we will put you in a place where the devil shall not find you. At these words he took me up behind him, and we darted into the forest. I did not know what to think of this odd meet- ing ; yet on the whole I could not well be worse off than before. If these gentry, thought I to myself, had been thieves, they would have robbed, and per- haps murdered me. Depend on it, they are a couple of good honest country gentlemen in this neighbor- hood, who seeing me frightened, have taken com- passion on me, and mean to carry me home with them and make me comfortable. But these visions did not last long. After turning and winding back- ward and forward in deep silence, we found our- selves at the foot of a hill, where we dismounted. This is our abode, said one of these sequestered gen- tlemen. I looked about in all directions, but the deuce a bit of either house or cottage : not a vestige of human habitation ! The two men in the mean time raised a great wooden trap, covered with earth and briers, to conceal the entrance of a long shelving 32 GIL SLAS. passage under ground, to which from habit the poor beasts took very kindly of their own accord. Their masters kept tight hold of me, and let the trap down after them. Thus was the worthy nephew of my uncle Perez caught, just for all the world as you would catch a rat. CHAPTER IV. DESCRIPTION OF THE SUBTERRANEOUS DWELLING AND ITS CONTENTS. I NOW knew into what company I had fallen ; and I leave it to any one to judge whether the discovery must not have rid me of my former fear. A dread more mighty and more just now seized my faculties. Money and life, all given up for lost ! With the air of a victim on his passage to the altar, did I walk, more dead than alive, between my two con- ductors, who finding that I trembled, frightened me so much the more by telling me not to be afraid. When we had gone two hundred paces, winding down a declivity all the way, we got into a stable lighted by two large iron lamps suspended from the vault above. There was a good store of straw, and several casks of hay and corn with room enough for twenty horses : but at that time there were only the two which came with us. An old negro, who seemed for his years in pretty good case, was tying them to the rack where they were to feed. THE SUBTERRANEOUS DWELLING. 33 We went out of the stable. By the melancholy light of some other lamps, which only served to dress up horror in its native colors, we arrived at a kitchen where an old harridan was broiling some steaks on the coals, and getting supper ready. The kitchen furniture was better than might be expected, and the pantry provided in a very plentiful manner. The lady of the larder's picture is worth drawing. Considerably on the wrong side of sixty ! In her youth , her hair had been of a fiery red ; though she would have called it auburn. Time had indeed given it the fairer tint of gray ; but a lock of more youthful hue, interspersed at intervals, produced all the variegated eifect of the admired autumnal shades. To say nothing of an olive complexion, she had an enormous chin turning up, an immense nose turning down, with a mouth in the middle, modestly retiring inwards, to make room for its encroaching neigh- bors. Red eyes are no beauty in any animal but a ferret ; hers were purple. Here, dame Leonarda, said one of the horsemen as he presented me to this angelic imp of darkness, we have brought you a young lad. Then looking round, and observing me to be miserably pale, Pluck up your spirits, my friend ; you shall come to no harm. We want a scullion, and have met with you. You are a lucky dog ! We had a boy who died about a fortnight ago : you shall succeed to the preferment. He was rather too delicate for his place. You seem a good stout fellow, and may live a week or two longer. We find you in bed and VOL. i. 3 34 /I SLAB. board, coal and candle ; but as for day-light, you will never see that again. Your leisure hours will pass off very agreeably with Leonarda, who is really a very good creature, and tolerably tender-hearted ; you will have all your little comforts about you. I flatter myself you have not got among beggars. At this moment, the thief seized a flambeau ; and as I feared, " with zeal to destroy ; " for he ordered me to follow him. He took me into a cellar, where I saw a sreat 7 O number of bottles and earthen pots full of excellent wine. He then made me cross several rooms. In some were pieces of cloth piled up ; in others, stuffs and silks. As we passed through I could not help casting a sheep's eye at the gold and silver plate peeping out of the different cupboards. After that, I followed him into a great hall illuminated by three copper lustres, and serving as a gallery between the other rooms. Here he put fresh questions to me ; asking my name ; why I left Oviedo ; and when I had satisfied his curiosity : Well, Gil Bias, said he, since your only motive for quitting your native place was to get into something snug and eligible, to be sure you must have been born to good luck, or you would not have fallen into our hands. I tell you once for all, you will live here on the fat of the land, and may souse over head and ears in ready money. Besides, you are in a place of perfect safety. The officers of the holy brotherhood might pass through the forest a hundred times without disco verin " our subterraneous abode. The entrance SUBTERRANEOUS DUELLING. 35 is only known to myself and my comrades. You may perhaps ask how it came to be contrived, with- out being perceived by the inhabitants in the neigh- borhood. But you are to understand, my friend, that it was made long ago, and is no work of ours. After the Moors had made themselves masters of Granada, of Arragon, and nearly the whole of Spain, the Christians, rather than submit to the tyranny of infidels, betook themselves to flight, and lay concealed in this country, in Biscay, and in the Asturias, whither the brave Don Pelagio had with- drawn himself. They lived in a state of exile, on the mountains, or in the woods dispersed in little knots. Some took up their residences in natural caves, others in artificial dwellings under ground, like this we are in. In process of time, when by the blessing of Providence they had driven their enemies out of Spain, they returned to the towns. From that time forth their retreats have served as a rendezvous for the gentlemen of our profession. It is true that several of them have been discovered and destroyed by the holy brotherhood : but there are some yet remaining ; and, by great good luck, I have tenanted this without paying any rent for it almost these fifteen years : Captain Rolando, at your service ! I am the leader of the band ; and the man you saw with me is one of my troopers. GIL BLA8. CHAPTER V. THE ARRIVAL OF THE BANDITTI IN THE SUBTERRANEOUS RETREAT, WITH AN ACCOUNT OF THEIR PLEASANT CON- VERSATION. JUST as Captain Rolando had finished his speech six new faces made their appearance in the hall ; the lieutenant and five privates, returning home with their booty. They were hauling in two great baskets full of sugar, cinnamon, pepper, figs, almonds, and raisins. The lieutenant gave an account of their proceedings to the captain, and told him they had taken these articles, as well as the sumpter-mule, from a grocer of Benavento. An official report having thus been made to the prime-minister, the grocer's contribution was carried to account ; and the next step was to regale after their labors. A large table was set out in the hall. They sent me back to the kitchen, where dame Leonarda told me what I had to do. I made the best of a bad bargain, finding the luck ran against me ; and, swallowing my grievances, set myself to wait on my noble masters. I cleaned my plate, set out my side-board, and brought up my wine. As soon as I announced din- ner tt> be on table, consisting of two good black peppery ragouts for the first course, this high and mighty company took their seats. They fell to most voraciously. My place was to wait ; and I handed about the glasses with so butler-like an air, as to be ARRIVAL OF THE BANDITTI. 37 not a little complimented on my dexterity. The chief entertained them with a short sketch of my story, and praised my parts. But I had recovered from my mania by this time, and could listen to my own panegyric with the humility of an anchorite or the contempt of a philosopher. They all seemed to take a liking to me, and to think I had dropped from the clouds on purpose to be their cup-bearer. My predecessor was a fool to me. Since his death, the illustrious Leonards had the honor of presenting nectar to these gods of the lower regions. But she was now degraded, and I had the felicity of being installed in her office. Thus, old Hebe being a little the worse for wear, young Ganymede tripped up her heels. A substantial joint of meat after the ragouts at length blunted the edge of their appetites. Eating and drinking went together : so that they soon got into a merry pin, and made a roaring noise. Well done, my lads ! All talkers and no listeners. One begins a long story, another cuts a joke ; here a fel- low bawls, there a fellow sings ; and they all seem to be at cross-purposes. At last Rolando, .tired of a concert in which lie could hardly hear the sound of his own voice, let them know that he was maestro di capella, and brought them into better tune. Gen- tlemen, said he, I have a question to put. Instead of stunning one another with this infernal din, had we not better enjoy a little rational conversation? A thought is just come into my head. Since the happy day that united us we have never had the 38 GIL BLAS. curiosity to inquire into each other's pedigrees, or by what chain of circumstances we were each of us led to embrace our present way of life. There would be no harm in knowing who and who are together. O o Let us exchange confidence : we may find some amusement in it. The lieutenant and the rest, like true heroes of romance, accepted the challenge with the utmost courtesy, and the captain told the first story to the following effect : Gentlemen, you are to know that I am the only son of a rich citizen in Madrid. The day of my birth was celebrated in the family by rejoicings with- out end. My father, no chicken, thought it a con- siderable feat to have got an heir, and my mother was kind enough to suckle me herself. My maternal grandfather was still living : a good old man, who did not trouble himself about other people's con- cerns, but said his prayers, and fought his campaigns over and over again ; for he had been in the army. Of course I was idolized by these three persons ; never out of their arms. My early years were passed in the most childish amusements, for fear of hurting my health by application. It will not do, said my father, to hammer much learning into chil- dren till time has ripened their understanding. While he waited for this ripening, the season went by. I could neither read nor write : but I made up for that in other ways. My father taught me a thousand different games. I became perfectly acquainted with cards, was no stranger to dice, and my grandfather set me the example of drawing the long bow, while THE CAPTAIN RELATES HIS HISTORY. 39 he entertained me with his military exploits. He sung the same songs repeatedly one after another every day ; so that when, after saying ten or twelve lines after him for three months together, I got to boggle through them without missing, the whole family were in raptures at my memory. Neither was my wit thought to be at all less extraordinary ; for I was suffered to talk at random, and took care to put in my oar in the most impertinent manner possible. O, the pretty little dear ! exclaimed my father, as if he had been fascinated. My mother made it up with kisses, and my grandfather's old eyes overflowed. I played all sorts of dirty and indecent tricks before them with impunity ; every thing was excusable in so fine a boy : an angel could not do wrong. Going on in this manner, I was already in my twelfth year without ever having a master. It was high time ; but then he was to teach me by fair means : he might threaten, but- must not flog Miie. This arrangement did me but little good ; for sometimes I laughed when my tutor scolded : at others, I ran with tears in my eyes to my mother or my grandfather, and complained that he had used me ill. The poor devil got nothing by denying it. My word was always taken before his, and he came off with the character of a cruel rascal. One day I scratched myself with my own nails, and set up a howl as if I had been flogged. My mother ran, and turned the master out of doors, though he vowed and protested he had never lifted a finger against me. 40 GIL BLAS. Thus did I get rid of all my tutors, till at last I met with one to my mind. He was a bachelor of Alcala. This was the master for a young man of fashion. Women, wine, and gaming were his principal amusements. It was impossible to be in better hands. He hit the right nail on the head : for he let me do what I pleased, and thus got into the good graces of the family, who abandoned me to his conduct. They had no reason to repent. He perfected me betimes in the knowledge of the world. By dint of taking me about to all his haunts, he gave such a finish to my education, that barring literature and science, I became a universal scholar. As soon as he saw that I could go alone in the high road to ruin he went to qualify others for the same journey. During my childhood I had lived at home just as I liked, and did not sufficiently consider, that now I was beginning to be responsible for my own actions. My father and mother were a standing jest. Yet they were themselves thrown into convulsions at my sallies ; and the more ridiculous they were made by them, the more waggish they thought me. In the mean time I got into all manner of scrapes with some young fellows of my own kidney ; and, as our relations kept us rather too short of cash for the ex- igencies of so loose a life, we each of us made free with whatever we could lay our hands on in our own families. Finding this would not raise the supplies, we began to pick pockets in the streets at night. As ill luck would have it, our exploits came to the THE LIEUTENANT'S HISTORY. 41 knowledge of the police. A warrant was out against us ; but some good-natured friend, thinking it a pity we should be nipped in the bud, gave us a cau- tion. We took to our heels, and rose in our voca- tion to the rank of highwaymen. From that time forth, gentlemen, with a blessing on my endeavors, I have gone on till I am almost the father of the profession, in spite of the dangers to which it is ex- posed. Here the captain ended, and it came to the turn of the lieutenant. Gentlemen, extremes are said to meet ; and so it will appear from a comparison of our commander's education and mine. My father was a butcher at Toledo. He passed, with reason, for the greatest brute in the town, and my mother's sweet disposition was not mended by the example.. In my childhood, they whipped me in emulation of one another ; I came in for a thousand lashes of a day ! The slightest fault was followed up by the severest punishment. In vain did I beg for mercy with tears in my eyes, and protest that I was sorry for what I had done. They never excused me, and nine times out of ten flogged me for nothing. When I was under my father's lash, my mother, not thinking his arm stout enough, lent her assist- ance, instead of begging me off. The favors I re- ceived at their hands gave me such a disgust, that I quitted their house before I had completed my four- teenth year, took the Arragon road, and begged my way to Saragossa. There I associated with va- grants, who led a merry life enough. They taught 42 GIL BLAS. me to counterfeit blindness and lameness, to dress up an artificial wound in each of my legs, and to adopt many other methods of imposing on the credulity of the charitable and humane. In the morning, like actors at rehearsal, we cast our char- acters, and settled the business of the comedy. We had each our exits and our entrances ; till in the evening the curtain dropped, and we regaled at the expense of the dupes we had deluded in the day. Wearied however with the company of these wretches, and wishing to live in more worshipful society, I entered into partnership with a gang of sharpers. These fellows taught me some good tricks : but Saragossa soon became too hot to hold us, after we had fallen out with a limb of the law, who had hitherto taken us under his protection. We each of us provided for ourselves, and left the devil to take the hindmost. For my part, I enlisted in a brave and veteran regiment, which had seen abundance of service on the king's highway : and I found myself so comfortable in their quarters, that I had no desire to change my birth. So that you see, gentlemen, I was very much obliged to my relations for their bad behavior ; for if they had treated me a little more kindly, I might have been a blackguard butcher at this moment, instead of having the honor to be your lieutenant. Gentlemen, interrupted a hopeful young free- booter who sat between the captain and the lieuten- ant, the stories we have just heard are neither so complicated nor so curious as mine, I peeped into THE FREEBOOTER'S STORY. 43 existence by means of a country-woman in the neigh- borhood of Seville. Three weeks after she had set me down in this system, a nurse-child was offered her. You are to understand she was yet in her prime, comely in her person, and had a good breast of milk. The young suckling had noble blood in him, and was an only son. My mother accepted the pro- posal with all her heart, and went to fetch the child. It was entrusted to her care. She had no sooner brought it home, than, fancying a resemblance, she conceived the idea of substituting me for the brat of high birth, in the hope of drawing a handsome com- mission at some future time for this motherly office in behalf of her infant. My father, whose morals were on a level with those of clodhoppers in general, lent himself very willingly to the cheat : so that with only a change of clouts, the son of Don Ro- drigo de Herrera was packed off in my name to another nurse, and my mother suckled her own and her master's child at once in my little person. They may say what they will of instinct and the force of blood ! The little gentleman's parents were very easily taken in. They had not the slightest suspicion of the trick ; and were eternally dan- dling me till I was seven years old. As it was their intention to make me a finished gentleman, they gave me masters of all kinds ; but I had very little taste for their lessons, and above all, I detested the sciences. I had at any time rather play with the servants or the stable boys, and was a complete kitchen genius. But tossing up for heads or tails 44 OIL BLAS. was not my ruling passion. Before seventeen I had an itch for getting drunk. I played the devil among the chambermaids ; but my prime favorite was a kitchen girl, who had infinite merit in my eyes. She was a great bloated horse-god-mother, whose good case and easy morals suited me exactly. I boarded her with so little circumspection that Don Rodrigo took notice of it. He took me to task pretty sharply ; twitted me with my low taste ; and, for fear the presence of my charmer should counter- act his sage counsels, showed the goddess of my de- votions the outside of the door. This proceeding was rather offensive ; and I de- termined to be even with him. I stole his wife's jewels ; and ravishing my Helen from a laundress of her acquaintance, went off with her in open day, that the transaction might lose nothing in point of notoriety. But this was not all. I carried her among her relations, where I married her according to the rites of the church, as much from the personal motive of mortifying Herrera, as from the patriotic enthusiasm of encouraging our young nobility to mend the breed. Three months after marriage, I heard that Don Rodrigo had gone the way of all flesh. The intelligence was not lost upon me. I was at Seville in a twinkling, to administer in due form and order to his effects ; but the tables were turned. My mother had paid the debt of nature, and in her last agonies had been so much off her guard as to confess the whole affair to the curate of the village and other competent witnesses, Pon ADDRESS OP THE CAPTAIN, 45 Rodrigo's son had already taken my place, or rather his own, and his popularity was increased by the deficiency of mine ; so that as the trumps were all out in that hand, and I had no particular wish for the present my wife was likely to make me, I joined issue with some desperate blades, with whom I be- gan my trading ventures. The young cut-purse having finished his story, another told us that he was the son of a merchant at Burgos ; that, in his youth, prompted more by piety than wit, he had taken the religious habit and professed in a very strict order, and that a few years afterwards he had apostatized. In short, the eight robbers told their tale one after another, and when I had heard them all, I did not wonder that the destinies had brought them together. The con- versation now took a different turn. They brought several schemes upon the carpet for the next cam- paign ; and after having laid down their plan of operations, rose from table and went to bed. They lighted their night candles, and withdrew to their apartments. I attended Captain Rolando to his. While I was fiddling about him as he undressed : Well ! Gil Bias, said he, you see how we live ! We are always merry ; hatred and envy, have no footing here ; we have not the least difference, but hang together just like monks. You are sure, my good lad, to lead a pleasant life here ; for I do not think you are fool enough to make any bones about consorting with gentlemen of the road. In what does ours differ from many a more reputable trade ? 4$ 6ii BLAS. Depend on it, my friend, all men love two hands in their neighbor's purse, though only one in their own. Men's principles are all alike ; the only difference lies in the mode of carrying them into effect. Con- querors, for instance, make free with the territories of their neighbors. People of fashion borrow, and do not pay. Bankers, treasurers, brokers, clerks, and traders of all kinds, wholesale and retail, give ample liberty to their wants to overdraw on their consciences. I shall not mention the hangers-on of the law ; we all know how it goes with them . At the same time it must be allowed that they have more humanity than we have ; for as it is often our vocation to take away the life of the innocent for plunder, it is sometimes theirs for fee and reward to save the guilty. CHAPTER VI. THE ATTEMPT OF GIL BIAS TO ESCAPE, AND ITS SUCCESS. AFTER the captain of the banditti had thus apol- ogized for adopting such a line of life, he went to bed. For my part, I returned to the hall, where I cleared the table, and set every thing to rights. Then I went to the kitchen, where Domingo, the old negro, and dame Leonarda had been expecting me at supper. Though entirely without appetite, I had the good manners to sit down with them. DAMti Not a morsel could I eat ; and, as I scarcely felt more miserable than I looked, this pair so justly formed to meet by nature, undertook to give me a little comfort. Why do you take on so, my good lad ? said the old dowager : you ought rather to bless your stars for your good luck. You are young, and seem a little soft ; you would have a fine kettle of fish of it in the busy world. You might have fallen into bad hands, and then your morals would have been corrupted ; whereas here your innocence is insured to its full value. Dame Leonarda is in the right, put in the old negro grave- ly, the w^orld is but a troublesome place. Be thank- ful, my friend, for being so early relieved from the dangers, the difficulties, and the afflictions of this miserable life. I bore this prosing very quietly, because I should have got no good by putting myself in a passion about it. At length Domingo, after playing a good knife and fork, and getting gloriously muddled, took himself off to the stable. Leonarda, by the glim- mering of a lamp, showed me the way to a vault which served as a last home to those of the corps who died a natural death. Here I stumbled upon something more like a grave than a bed. This is your room, said she. Your predecessor lay here as long as he was among us, and here he lies to this day. He suffered himself to be hurried out of life in his prime : do not you be so foolish as to follow his example. With this kind advice, she left me with the lamp for my companion and returned 48 GIL 6LAS. to the kitchen. I threw myself on the little bed, not so much for rest as meditation. O Heaven ! exclaimed I, was there ever a fate so dreadful as mine ! It is determined then that I am to take my leave of daylight ! Beside this, as if it was not enough to be buried alive at eighteen, my misery is to be aggravated by being in the service of a ban- ditti ; by passing the day with highwaymen, and the night in a charnel-house. These reflections, which seemed to me very dismal, and were indeed no better than they seemed, set me crying most bitterly. I could not conceive what cursed maggot my uncle had got in his head to send me^ to Salamanca ; re- pented running away from Cacabelos, and would have compounded for the torture. But, considering how vain it was to shut the door when the steed was stolen, I determined, instead of lamenting the past, to hit upon some expedient for making my escape. What ! thought I, is it impossible to get off? The cut-throats are asleep ; cooky and the black will be snoring ere long. Why cannot I, by the help of this lamp, find the passage by which I descended into these infernal regions ? I am afraid indeed my strength is not equal to lifting the trap at the en- trance. However, let us see. Faint heart never won fair lady. Despair will lend me new force, and who knows but I may succeed? Thus was the train laid for a grand attempt. I got up, as soon as Leonarda and Domingo were likely to be asleep. With the lamp in my hand, I stole out of the vault, putting up my prayers to all VAILS Itf HtS ATTEMPT TO ESCAPE. 49 the spirits in paradise, and ten miles round. It was with no small difficulty that I threaded all the wind- ings of this new labyrinth. At length I found my- self at the stable door, and perceived the passage which was the object of my search. Pushing on I made my way towards the trap with a light pair of heels and a beating heart : but, alas ! in the middle of my career I ran against a cursed iron grate locked fast, with bars so close as not to admit a hand be- tween them. I looked rather foolish at the occur- rence of this new difficulty, which I had not been aware of at my entrance, because the grate was then open. However, I tried what I could do by fum- bling at the bars. Then for a peep at the lock ; or whether it could not be forced ! When all at once my poor shoulders were saluted with five or six good strokes of a bull's pizzle. I set up such a shrill alarum, that the den of Cacus rang with it ; when looking round, who should it be but the old negro in his shirt, holding a dark lanthorn in one hand, and the instrument of my punishment in the other. O, O ! quoth he, my merry little fellow, you will run away, will you? No, no ! you must not think to set your wits against mine. I heard you all the while. You thought you should find the grate open, did not you? You may take it for granted, my friend, that henceforth it will always be shut. When we keep any one here against his will, he must be a cleverer fellow than you to make his escape. In the mean time, at the howl I had set up, two VOL. i. 4 50 GIL 6LAS. or three of the robbers waked suddenly ; and not knowing but the holy brotherhood might be falling upon them, they got up and called their comrades. Without the loss of a moment all were on the alert. Swords and carbines were put in requisition, and the whole posse advanced forward almost in a state of nature to the place where I was parleying with Do- mingo. But as soon as they learned the cause of the uproar, their alarm resolved itself into a peal of laughter. How now, Gil Bias, said the apostate son of the church, you have not been a good six hours with us, and are you tired of our company already? You must have a great objection to re- tirement. Why, what would you do if you were a Carthusian friar ! Get along with you, and go to bed. This time you shall get off with Domingo's discipline ; but if you are ever caught in a second attempt of the same kind, by Saint Bartholomew ! we will flay you alive. With this hint he retired, and the rest of the party went back to their rooms. The old negro, taking credit to himself for his vigi- lance, returned to his stable : and I found my way back to my charnel-house, where I passed the re- mainder of the night in weeping and wailing. ANti AIMS. 51 CHAPTER VII. OIL BLAS, NOT BEING ABLE TO DO WHAT HE LIKES, DOES WHAT HE CAN. FOR the first few days, I thought I should have given up the ghost for very spite and vexation. The lingering life I led was nearly akin to death itself; but in the end my good genius whispered me to play the hypocrite. I aimed at looking a little more cheerful ; began to laugh and sing, though it was sometimes on the wrong side of my mouth ; in a word, I put so good a face on the matter, that Leonarda and Domingo were com- pletely taken in. They thought the bird was rec- onciled to his cage. The robbers entertained the same notion. I looked as brisk as the beverage I poured out, and put in my oar whenever I thought I could say a good thing. My freedom, far from offending, was taken in good part. Gil Bias, quoth the captain one evening, while I was playing the buffoon, you have done well, my friend, to banish melancholy. I am delighted with your wit and humor. Some people wear a mask at first ac- quaintance ; I had no notion what a jovial fellow you were. My praises now seemed to run from mouth to mouth. They were all so partial to me, that, not to miss my opportunity ; Gentlemen, quoth I, allow me to tell you a piece of my mind. Since 52 8/X, BLAS. I have been your guest, a new light breaks in upotl me. I have bid adieu to vulgar prejudices, and caught a ray at the fountain of your illumination. I feel that I was born to be your knight companion. I languish to make one among you, and will stand my chance of a halter with the best. All the com- pany cried Hear ! I was considered as a prom- ising member of the senate. It was then deter- mined unanimously to give me a trial in some inferior department ; afterwards to bespeak me a good desperate encounter in which I might show my prowess ; and if I answered expectation to give me a high and responsible employment in the com- monwealth. It was necessary therefore to go on exhibiting a copy of my countenance, and doing my best in my office of cup-bearer. I was impatient beyond meas- ure ; for I only aspired after the honors of the sit- ting, to obtain the liberty of going abroad with the rest ; and I was in hopes that by running the risk of getting my neck into one noose I might get it out of another. This was my only chance. The time nevertheless seemed long to wait, and I kept my eye on Domingo, with the hope of outwitting him : but the thing was not feasible ; he was always on the watch. Orpheus as leader of the band, with a complete orchestra of performers as good as him- self, could not have soothed the savage breast of this Cerberus. The truth is, by the by, that for fear of exciting his suspicion, I did not set my wits against him so much as I might have done. He was on the ADMITTED TO THE GANG. 53 lookout, and I was obliged to piny the prude, or my virtue might have come into disgrace. I there- fore stopped proceedings till the time of my proba- tion should expire, to which I looked forward with impatience, just as if I was waiting for a place un- der government. Heaven be praised, in about six months I gained my end. The commandant Rolando addressing his regiment, said : Comrades, we must stand upon honor with Gil Bias. I have no bad opinion of our young candidate ; we shall make something of him. If you will take my advice, let him go and reap his first harvest with us to-morrow on the king's highway. We will lead him on in the path of honor. The robbers applauded the sentiments of the captain with a thunder of acclamation ; and to show me how much I was considered as one of the gang, from that moment they dispensed with my attendance at the sideboard. Dame Leonarda was reinstated in the office from which she had been dis- charged to make room for me. They made me change my dress, which consisted in a plain short cossack a good deal the worse for wear, and tricked me out in the spoils of a gentleman lately robbed. After this inauguration, I made- my arrangement^ for my first campaign. 54 GIL BLAS CHAPTER VIII. OIL BLAS GOES OUT WITH THE GANG, AND PERFORMS A\ EXPLOIT ON THE HIGHWAY. IT was past midnight in the month of September, when I issued from the subterraneous abode as one of the fraternity. I was armed, like them, with a carabine, two pistols, a sword and a bayonet, and was mounted on a very good horse, the property of the gentleman in whose costume I appeared. I had lived so long like a mole under ground, that the daybreak could not fail of dazzling me : but my eyes got reconciled to it by degrees. We passed close by Pontferrada, and were deter- mined to lie in ambush behind a small wood skirting the road to Leon. There we were waiting for what- ever fortune might please to throw in our way, when we espied a Dominican friar, mounted, contrary to the rubric of those pious fathers, on a shabby mule. God be praised, exclaimed the captain with a sneer, this is a noble beginning for Gil Bias. Let him go and trounce that monk : we will bear witness to his qualifications. The connoisseurs were all of opinion that this commission suited my talents to a hair, and exhorted me to do my best* Gentlemen, quoth I, you shall have no reason to complain. I will strip this holy father to his birthday suit, and give you complete right and title to his mule. No, no, said jRoJando, the beast would not be worth its fodder ; GOES OUT WITH THE GANG. 55 only bring us our reverend pastor's purse ; that is all we require. Hereupon I issued from the wood and pushed up to the man of God, doing penance all the time in my own breast for the sin I was com- mitting. I could have liked to have turned my back upon my fellows at that moment ; but most of them had the advantage of better horses than mine : had they seen me making off, they would have been at my heels, and would soon have caught me, or per- haps would have fired a volley, for which I was not sufficiently case-hardened. I could not therefore venture on so perilous an alternative ; so that claiming acquaintance with the reverend father, I asked to look at his purse, and just put out the end of a pistol. He stopped short to gaze upon me ; and, without seeming much frightened, said, My child, you are very young ; this is an early apprenticeship to a bad trade. Father, replied I, bad as it is, I wish I had begun it sooner. What ! my son, rejoined the good friar, who did not under- stand the real meaning of what I said, how say you? What blindness ! give me leave to place before your eyes the unhappy condition. Come, come, father ! interrupted I with impatience, a truce to your mo- rality, if you please. My business on the high road is not to hear sermons. Money makes my mare to go. Money ! said he, with a look of stu-prise ; you have a poor opinion of Spanish charity, if you think .that people of my stamp have any occasion for such trash upon their travels. Let me undeceive you. We are made welcome wherever we go, and pay for 56 GIL BLAS. our board and lodgings by our prayers. In short, we carry no cash with us on the road ; but draw drafts upon Providence. That is all very well, replied I ; yet for fear your drafts should be dishonored, you take care to keep about you a little supply for pres- ent need. But come, father, let us make an end : my comrades in the wood are in a hurry ; so your money or your life. At these words, which I pro- nounced with a determined air, the friar began to think the business grew serious. Since needs must, said he, there is wherewithal to satisfy your craving. A word and a blow is the only rhetoric with you gentlemen. As he said this, he drew a large leathern purse from under his gown, and threw it on the ground. I then told him he might make the best of his way : and he did not wait for a second bidding, but stuck his heels into the mule, which, giving the lie to my opinion, for I thought it on a par with my uncle's, set off at a good round pace. While he was riding for his life, I dismounted. The purse was none of the lightest. I mounted again, and got back to the wood, where those nice observers were waiting with impatience to congratu- late me on my success. I could hardly get my foot out of the stirrup, so eager were they to shake hands with me. Courage, Gil Bias, said Rolando ; you have done wonders. I have had my eyes on you during your whole performance, and have watched your countenance. I have no hesitation, in predicting that you will become in time a very ^ccomplished highwayman. The lieutenant and the APPLAUDED BY THE ROBBERS. 57 rest chimed in with the prophecy, and assured me that I could not fail of fulfilling it hereafter. I thanked them for the elevated idea they had formed of my talents, and promised to do all in my power not to discredit their penetration. After they had lavished praises, the effect rather of their candor than of my merit, they took it into their heads to examine the booty I had brought under my convoy. Let us see, said they, let us see how a friar's purse is lined. It should be fat and flourish- ing, continued one of them, for these good fathers do not mortify the flesh when they travel. The captain untied the purse, opened it, and took out two or three handfuls of little copper coins, an Agnus-Dei here and there, and some scapularies. At sight of so novel a prize, all the privates burst into an immoderate fit of laughter. God be praised ! cried the lieutenant, we are very much obliged to Gil Bias : his first attack has produced a supply, very seasonable to our fraternity. One joke brought on another. These rascals, especially the fellow who had retired from the church to our subterraneous hermitage, began to make themselves merry on the subject. They said a thousand good things, such as showed at once the sharpness of their wits and the profligacy of their morals. They were all on the broad grin except myself. It was impossible to be butt and marksman too. They each of them shot their bolt at me, and the captain said : Faith, Gil Bias, I would advise you as a friend not to set your wit a second time against the church : the biter may 58 GIL BLAS. be bit ; for you must live some time longer among us, before you are a match for them. CHAPTER IX. A MORE SERIOUS INCIDENT. lounged about the wood for the greater part of th*e day, without lighting on any traveller to pay toll for the friar. At length we were beginning to wear our homeward way, as if confining the feats of the day to this laughable adventure, which furnished a plentiful fund of conversation, when we got intel- ligence of a carriage on the road drawn by four mules. They were coming at a hard gallop, with three outriders, who seemed to be well armed. Rolando ordered the troop to halt, and hold a coun- cil, the result of whose deliberations was to attack the enemy. We were regularly drawn up in battle array, and marched to meet the caravan. In spite of the applause I had gained in the wood, I felt an oozing sort of a tremor come over me, with a chill in my veins and a chattering in my teeth that seemed to bode me no good. As it never rains but it pours, I was in the front of the battle, hemmed in between the captain and the lieutenant, who had given me that post of honor, that I might lose no time in learning to stand fire. Rolando, observing the low ebb of my animal spirits, looked askew at me, A SERIOUS ADVENTURE. 59 and muttered in a tone more resolute than courtly : Hark ye ! Gil Bias, look sharp about you ! I give you fair notice, that if you play the recreant, I shall lodge a couple of bullets in your brain. I believed him as firmly as my catechism, and thought it high time not to neglect the hint ; so that I was obliged to lay an embargo on the expression of my fears, and to think only of recommending my soul to God in silence. While all this was going on, the carriage and horsemen drew near. They suspected what sort of gentry we were ; and guessing our trade by our badge, stopped within gun-shot. They had car- abines and pistols as well as ourselves. While they were preparing to give us a brisk reception, there jumped out of the coach a well-looking gentleman richly dressed. He mounted a led horse, and put himself at the head of his party. Though they were but four against nine, for the coachman kept his seat on the box, they advanced towards us with a con- fidence calculated to redouble my terror. Yet I did not forget, though trembling in every joint, to hold myself in readiness for a shot : but, to give a candid relation of the affair, I blinked and looked the other way in letting off my piece ; so that from the harm- lessness of my fire, I was sure not to have murder to answer for in another world. I shall not give the particulars of the engagement ; though present, I was no eye-witness ; and my fear, while it laid hold of my imagination, drew a veil pver the anticipated horror of the sight, All I Juio>y 60 GIL BLAS. about the matter is, that after a grand discharge of musketry, I heard my companions hallooing Vic- tory ! Victory ! as if their lungs were made of leather. At this shout the terror which had made a forcible entry on my senses was ejected, and I beheld the four horsemen stretched lifeless on the field of battle. On our side, we had only one man killed. This was the renegade parson, who had now filled the measure of his apostasy, and paid for jesting with scapularies and such sacred things. The lieu- tenant received a slight wound in the arm ; but the bullet did little more than graze the skin. Master Rolando was the first at the coach-door. Within was a lady of from four to five-and-twenty, beautiful as an angel in his eyes, in spite of her sad condition. She had fainted during the conflict, and her swoon still continued. While he was fixed like a statue on her charms, the rest of us were in pro- found meditation on the plunder. We began by securing the horses of the defunct ; for these animals , frightened at the report of our pieces, had got to a little distance, after the loss of their riders. For the mules, they had not wagged a hair, though the coachman had jumped from his box during the engagement to make his escape. We dismounted for the purpose of unharnessing and loading them with some trunks tied before and behind the 'carriage. This settled, the captain ordered the lady, who had not yet recovered her faculties, to be set on horse- back before the best mounted of the robbers ; then, leaving the carriage and the uncased carcasses by the TtiE LADY'S TREATMENT. gl roadside, we carried off with us the lady, the mules, and the horses. CHAPTER X. TBK LADY'S TREATMENT FROM THE ROBBERS. THE EVENT OF TI1E GREAT DESIGN, CONCEIVED BY GIL BLAS. THE night had another hour to run, when we arrived at our subterraneous mansion. The first thing we did was to lead our cavalry to the stable, where we were obliged to groom them ourselves, as the old negro had been confined to his bed for three days, with a violent fit of the gout, and a universal rheumatism. He had no member supple but his tongue ; and that he employed in testifying his in- dignation by the most horrible impieties. Leaving this wretch to curse and swear by himself, we went to the kitchen to look after the lady. So successful were our attentions, that we succeeded in recovering her from her fit. But when she had once more the use of her senses, and saw herself encompassed by strangers, she knew the extent of her misfortune, and shuddered at the thought. All that grief and despair together could present, of images the most distressing, appeared depicted in her eyes, which she lifted up to Heaven, as if in reproach for the indignities she was threatened with. Then, giving way at once to these dreadful apprehensions, she fell again into a swoon, her eyelids closed once more, 62 GIL BLAS. and the robbers thought that death was going id snatch from them their prey. The captain, there- fore, judging it more to the purpose to leave her to herself than to torment her with any more of their assistance, ordered her to be laid on Leonarda's bed, and at all events to let nature take its course. We went into the hall, where one of the robbers, who had been bred a surgeon, looked at the lieu- tenant's arm and put a plaster to it. After this scientific operation, it was thought expedient to ex- amine the baggage. Some of the trunks were filled with laces and linen, others with various articles of wearing apparel : but the last contained some bags of coin ; a circumstance highly approved by the receivers-general of the estate. After this investi- gation, the cook set out the sideboard, laid the cloth, and served up supper. Our conversation ran first on the great victory we had achieved. On this sub- ject, said Rolando, directing himself to me, confess the truth, Gil Bias : you cannot deny that you were devilishly frightened. I candidly admitted the fact ; but promised to fight like a crusader, after my second or third campaign. Hereupon all the com- pany took my part, alleging the sharpness of the action in my excuse, and that it was very well for a novice, not yet accustomed to the smell of powder. We next talked of the mules and horses just added to our subterraneous stud. It was determined to set off the next morning before daybreak, and sell them at Mansilla, before there was any chance of our ex- pedition having got wind. This resolution taken, PLANS FOR MSCAPE. ($ We finished our supper, and returned to the kitchen to pay our respects to the lady. We found her in the same condition. Nevertheless, though the dregs of life seemed almost exhausted, some of these poachers could not help casting a wicked leer at her, and giving visible signs of a motion within them, which would have broken out into overt act, had not Rolando put a spoke in their wheel, by representing that they ought at least to wait till the lady had got rid of her terrors and squeamishness, and could come in for her share of the amusement. Their respect for the captain operated as a check to the inconti- nence of their passions. Nothing else could have saved the lady ; nor would death itself probably have secured her from violation. Again therefore did we leave this unhappy female to her melancholy fate. Rolando contented himself with charging Leonarda to take care of her, and we all separated for the night. For my part, when I went to bed, instead of courting sleep, my thoughts were wholly taken up with the lady's misfortunes. I had no doubt of her being a woman of quality, and thought her lot on that account so much the more piteous. I could not paint to myself, without shuddering, the horrors which awaited her ; and felt myself as sensibly affected by them, as if united to her by the ties of blood or friendship. At length, after having sufficiently bewailed her destiny, I mused on the means of preserving her honor from its present danger, and myself from a longer abode in this dungeon. I considered that the old negro 4 6/1 SLAS. could not stir, and recollected that since his illness* the cook had the key of the grate. That thought warmed my fancy, and gave birth to a project not to be hazarded lightly : the stages of its execution were the following : I pretended to have the colic. A lad in the colic cannot help whining and groaning ; but I went further, and cried out lustily, as loud as my lungs would let me. This roused my gentle friends, and brought them about me, to know what the deuce was the matter. I informed them that I had a swinging fit of the gripes, and to humor the idea, gnashed my teeth, made all manner of wry faces till I looked like a bedlamite, and twisted my limbs as if I had been going to be delivered of a heathen oracle. Then I became calm all at once, as if my pains had abated. The next minute, I flounced up and down upon my bed, and threw my arms about at random. In a word, I played my part so well, that these more experienced performers, knowing as they were, suffered themselves to be thrown off their guard, and to believe that my malady was real. All at once did they busy themselves for my relief. One brought me a bottle of brandy, and forced me to gulp down half of it ; another, in spite of my re- monstrances, applied oil of sweet almonds in a very offensive manner : a third went and made a napkin burning hot, to be clapped upon my stomach. In vain did I cry mercy ; they attributed my noise to the violence of my disorder, and went on inflicting positive evil by way of remedy for that which was PLANS FOR ESCAPE. 65 artificial. At last, able to bear it no longer, I was obliged to swear that I was better, and entreat them to give me quarter. They left off killing me with kindness, and I took care not to complain any more, for fear of experiencing then* tender attentions a second time. This scene lasted nearly three hours. After which the robbers, calculating it to be near daybreak, pre- pared for their journey to Mansilla. I was for getting up, as if I had set my heart on being of the party ; but that they would not allow. No, no, Gil Bias, said Signer Rolando, stay here, my lad : your colic may return. You shall go with us another time ; to-day you are not in travelling con- dition. I did not think it prudent to urge my attendance too much, for fear of being taken at my word ; but only affected great disappointment, with so natural an air, that they all went off without the slightest misgiving of my design. After their de- parture, for which I had prayed most fervently, I said to myself: Now is your time, Gil Bias, to be firm and resolved. Arm yourself with courage to go through with an enterprise so propitiously begun. Domingo is tied by the leg, and Leonarda may show her teeth, but she cannot bite. Pounce down upon opportunity while it offers ; you may wait long enough for another. Thus did I spirit myself up in soliloquy. Having got out of bed, I laid hold of my sword and pistols ; and away I went to the kitchen. But before I made my appearance, I stopped to hear what Leonarda was talking about to 66 GIL the fair incognita who was come to her senses, and on a view of her misfortune in its extremity, took on most desperately. That is right, my girl, said the old hag, cry your eyes out, sob away plentifully, you know the good effect of woman's tears. The sudden shock was too much for you : but the danger is over, now the engines can play. Your grief will abate by little and little, and you will get reconciled to living with our gentlemen, who are very good sort of people. You will be better off than a prin- cess. You do not know how fond they will be of you. Not a day will pass without your being obliged to some of them. Many a woman would give one of her eyes to be in your place. I did not allow Leonarda time to go on any longer with this babbling. In I went, and putting a pistol to her breast, insisted with a menacing air on her delivering up the key of the grate. She did not know what to make of my behavior ; and, though almost in the last stage of life, had such a propensity to linger on the road, as not to venture on a refusal. With the key in my hand, I directed the following speech to the distressed object of my com- passion : Madam, Heaven sends you a deliverer in me ; follow, and I will see you safe whithersoever you wish to be conducted. The lady was not deaf to my proposal, wliich made such an impression on her grateful heart, that she jumped up with all the strength she had left, threw herself at my feet, and conjured me to save her honor. I raised her from the ground, and assured her she might rely on fcttfi LADf'S ESCAPti. C7 me. I then took some ropes which were oppor- tunely in the kitchen, and with her assistance tied Leonarda to the legs of a large table, protesting that I would kill her if she only breathed a murmur. After that, lighting a candle, I went with the incog- nita to the treasury, where I filled my pockets with pistoles, single and double, as full as they could hold. To encourage the lady not to be scrupulous, I begged she would think herself at home, and make free with her own. With our finances thus recruit- ed, we went towards the stable, where I marched in with my pistols cocked. I was of opinion that the old blackamoor, for all his gout and rheumatism, would not let me saddle and bridle my horse peace- ably, and my resolution was to put the finishing hand to all his ailments, if he took it into his head to play the churl : but, by good luck, he was at that moment in such pain, that I stole the steed without his perceiving that the door was open. The lady in the mean time was waiting for me. We were not long in threading the passage leading to the outlet ; but reached the grate, opened it, and at last got to the trap. Much ado there was to lift it, which we could not have done, but for the new strength we borrowed from .the hopes of our escape. Day was beginning to dawn when we emerged from that abyss. Our first object was to get as far from it as possible. I jumped into the saddle : the lady got up behind me, and taking the first path that offered, we soon galloped out of the forest. Coming to some cross-roads, we took our chance. I trembled 6g ML bLAs. for fear of its leading to Mansilla, and our encounter- ing Rolando and his comrades. Luckily my ap- prehensions were unfounded. We got to Astorga by two o'clock in the afternoon. The people looked at us as if they had never seen such a sight before, as a woman riding behind a man. We alighted at the first inn. I immediately ordered a partridge and a young rabbit to the spit. While my orders were in a train of execution, the lady was shown to a room, where we began to scrape acquaintance with one another ; which we had not done on the road, on account of the speed we made. She expressed a liigh sense of my services, and told me that after so gentlemanly a conduct, she could not allow herself to think me one of the gang from whom I had rescued her. I told her my story, to confirm her good opinion. By these means, I entitled myself to her confidence, and to the knowledge of her mis- fortunes, which she recounted to the following effect. CHAPTER XL THE HISTORY OF DONNA MEN CIA DE MOSQUERA. \ I WAS born at Valladolid, and am called Donna Mencia de Mosquera. My father, Don Martin, after spending most of his family estate in the service, was killed in Portugal at the head of his regiment. He left me so little property, that I was a bad match, THE LADY'S HISTORY. (J9 though an only daughter. I was not, however, without my admirers, notwithstanding the mediocri- ty of my fortune. Several of the most considerable cavaliers in Spain sought me in marriage. My favorite was Don Alvar de Mello. It is true he had a prettier person than his rivals ; but more solid qualities determined me in his favor. He had wit, discretion, valor, probity ; and in addition to all these, an air of fashion. Was an entertainment to be given? His taste was sure to be displayed. If he appeared in the lists, he always fixed the eyes of the beholders on his strength and dexterity. I singled him out from among all the rest, and mar- ried him. A few days after our nuptials, he met Don Andrew de Baesa, who had been his rival, in a private place. They attacked one another sword in hand, and Don Andrew fell. As he was nephew to the corregidor of Valladolid, a turbulent man, vio- lently incensed against the house of Mello, Don Alvar thought he could not soon enough make his escape. He returned home speedily, and told me what had happened while his horse was getting ready. My dear Mencia, said he at length, we must part. You know the corregidor : let us not flatter ourselves ; he will hunt me even to death. You are unacquainted with his influence ; this empire will be too hot to hold me. He was so penetrated by his own grief and mine, as not to be able to articulate further. I made him take sonic cash, and jewels: then he folded me; in. liis arms, and we did nothing 70 OIL BLAS. but mingle our sighs and tears for a quarter of an hour. In a short time the horse was at the door. He tore himself from me, and left me in a condition not easily to be expressed. It had been well if the excess of my affliction had destroyed me ! How much pain and trouble might I have escaped by death ! Some hours after Don Alvar was gone, the corregidor became acquainted with his flight. He set up a hue and cry after him, sparing no pains to get him into his power. My husband, however, eluded his pursuit, and got into safe quarters ; so that the judge, finding himself reduced to confine his vengeance to the poor satisfaction of confiscating, where he meant to execute, labored to good purpose in his vocation. Don Alvar's little property all went to the hammer. I remained in a very comfortless situation, with scarcely the means of subsistence. A retired life was best suited to my circumstances, with a single female servant. I passed my hours in lamenting, not an indigence, which I bore patiently, but the absence of a beloved husband, of whom I received no accounts. He had indeed pledged himself, in the melancholy moments of our parting, to be punctual in acquainting me with his destiny, to whatever part of the world his evil star might conduct him. And yet seven years rolled on without my hearing of him. My suspense respecting his fate afflicted me most deeply. At last I heard of his falling in bat- tle, under the Portuguese banner, in the kingdom of Fez. A man newly returned from Africa brought THE LADY'S HISTORY. 71 me the account, with the assurance that he had been well acquainted with Don Alvar de Mello ; had served with him in the army, and had seen him drop in the action. To this narrative of facts he added several collateral circumstances, which left me no room to doubt of my husband's premature death. About this time, Don Ambrosio Mesia Carrillo, Marquis de la Guardia, arrived at Valladolid. He was one of those elderly noblemen who, with that good breeding acquired by long experience in courts, throw their years into the background, and retain the faculty of making themselves agreeable to our sex. One day, he happened by accident to hear the story of Don Alvar ; and, from the part I bore in it and the description of my person, there arose a desh*e of being better acquainted. To satisfy his curiosity, he made interest with one of my relations to invite me to her house. The gentleman was one of the party. This first interview made not the less im- pression on his heart, for the traces of sorrow which were too obvious on my countenance. He was touched by its melancholy and languishing expres- sion, which gave him a favorable forecast of my constancy, liespect, rather than any warmer senti- ment, might perhaps be the inspirer of his wishes. For he told me more than once what a miracle of good faith he considered me, and my husband's fate as enviable in this respect, however lamentable in others. In a word, he was struck with me at first sight, and did not wait for a review of my preten- sions, but at once took the resolution of making mo his wife. 72 GIL BLAS. The intervention of my kinswoman was adopted as the means of inducing me to accept his proposal. She paid me a visit ; and in the course of conversa- tion, pleaded, that as my husband had submitted to the decree of Providence in the kingdom of Fez, ac- cording to very credible accounts, it was no longer rational to coop up my charms. I had shed tears enough over a man to whom I had been united but for a few moments as it were, and I ought to avail myself of the present offer, and had nothing to do but to step into happiness at once. In furtherance of these arguments, she set forth the old marquis'a pedigree, his wealth, and high character : but in vain did her eloquence expatiate on his endowments, for I was not to be moved. Not that my mind mis- gave me respecting Don Alvar's death, nor that the apprehension of his sudden and unwelcome appear- ance hereafter, checked my inclinations. My little liking, or rather my extreme repugnance to a second marriage, after the sad issue of the first, was the sole obstacle opposed to my relation's urgency. Neither was she disheartened : on the contrary, her zeal for Don Ambrosio resorted to endless stratagems. All my family were pressed into the old lord's service. So beneficial a match was not to be trifled with ! They were eternally besetting, dunning, and tor- menting me. In fact, my despondency, which increased from day to day, contributed not a little to my yielding. As there was no getting rid of him, I gave way to thek* eager suit, and was wedded to the Marquis THE LADY'S HISTORY. 73 de la Guardia. The day after the nuptials, we went to a very fine castle of his near Burgos, between Grajal and Rodillas. He conceived a violent love for me : the desire of pleasing was visible in all his actions : the anticipation of my slenderest wishes was his earliest and his latest study. No husband ever regarded his wife more tenderly, no lover could pour forth more devotion to his mistress. Nor would it have been possible for me to steel my heart against a return of passion, though our ages were so dispro- portioned, had not every soft sentiment been buried in Don Alvar's grave. But the avenues of a con- stant heart are barred against a second inmate. The memory of my first husband threw a damp on all the kind efforts of the second. Mere gratitude was a cold retribution for such tenderness ; but it was all I had to give. Such was my temper of mind, when, taking the air one day at a window in my apartment, I per- ceived a peasant-looking man in the garden, viewing me with fixed attention. He appeared to be a com- mon laborer. The circumstance soon passed out of my thoughts ; but the next day, having again taken my station at the window, I saw him on the self-same spot, and again found myself the object of his eager gaze. This seemed strange ! I looked at him in my turn ; and, after an attentive scrutiny, thought I could trace the features of the unhappy Don Alvar. This seeming visit from the tombs roused all the dormant agony of my soul, and extorted from me a piercing scream. Happily, I was then, alone 74 GIL BLAS. Ines, who of all my women engaged the largest share of my confidence. I told her what surmise had so agitated my spirits. She only laughed at the idea, and took it for granted that a slight re- semblance had imposed on my fancy. Take cour- age, madam, said she, and do not be afraid of seeing your first husband. What likelihood is there of his being here in the disguise of a peasant ? Is it even within the reach of credibility that he is still alive ? However, I will go down into the garden and talk with this rustic. I will answer for finding out who he is, and will return in all possible haste with my intelli- gence. Ines ran on her errand like a lapwing ; but soon returned to my apartment with a face of min- gled astonishment and emotion. Madam, exclaimed she, your conjecture is but too well grounded ; it is indeed Don Alvar whom you have seen ; he made himself known at once, and pleads for a private in- terview. As I had the means of admitting Don Alvar instantaneously, by the absence of the Marquis at Burgos, I commissioned my waiting-maid to intro- duce him into my closet by a private staircase. Well may you imagine the hurry and agitation of my spirits. How could I support the presence of a man, who was entitled to overwhelm me with re- proaches ? I fainted at his very foot-fall as he en- tered. They were about me in a moment ; he as Ivell as Ines ; and when they had recovered me from my swoon, Don Alvar said Madam, for Heaven's sake compose yourselfi My presence shall never be THE LADY'S HISTORY. 75 the cause of pain to you ; nor would I for the world expose you to the slightest anxiety. I am no sav- age husband, come to account with you for a sacred pledge ; nor do I impute to criminal motives the second contract you have formed. I am well aware that it was owing to the importunity of your friends ; your persecutions from that quarter are not unknown to me. Besides, the report of my death was current in Valladolid ; and you had so much the more rea- son to give it credit, as no letter from me gave you any assurance to the contrary. In short, I am no stranger to your habits of life since our cruel sepa- ration ; and know that necessity, not lightness of heart, has thrown you into the arms. . . . Ah ! sir, interrupted I with sobs, why will you make excuses for your unworthy wife ? She is guilty, since you survive. Why am I not still in the forlorn state, in which I languished before my marriage with Don Ainbrosio? Fatal nuptials ! alas ! but for these, I should at least have had the consolation in my wretchedness of seeing the object of my first vows again without a blush. My dear Mencia, replied Don Alvar, with a look which marked how deeply he was penetrated by my contrition, I make no complaint of you ; and far from upbraiding you with your present prosperity, as heaven is my witness, I return it thanks for the favors it has showered on you. Since the sad day of my departure from Valladolid, my own fate has ever been adverse. My life has been but a tissue of misfortune ; and, as a surcharge of evil destiny, I 76 GIL BLAS. had no means of letting you hear from me. Too se- cure in your affection, I could neither think nor dream but of the condition to which my fatal love might have reduced you. Donna Mencia in tears was the lovely, but killing spectre that haunted me ; of all my miseries, your dear idea was the most acute. Sometimes, I own, I felt remorse for the transport- ing crime of having pleased you. I wished you had lent an ear to the suit of some happier rival, since the preference with which you had honored me was to fall so cruelly on your own head. To cut short my melancholy tale after seven years of suffering, more enamored than ever, I determined to see you once again. The impulse was not to be re- sisted ; and the expiration of a long slavery having furnished me with the power of giving way to it, I have been at Valladolid under this disguise at the hazard of a discovery. There, I learned the whole story. I then came to this castle, and found the means of admission into the gardener's service, who has engaged me as a laborer. Such was my strat- agem to obtain this private interview. But do not suppose me capable of blasting, by my continuance here, the happiness of your future days. I love you better than my own life ; I have no consideration but for your repose ; and it is my purpose, after thus unburdening my heart, to finish in exile the sacri- fice of an existence, which has lost its value since no longer to be devoted to your service. No, Don Alvar, no, exclaimed I at these words ; you shall never quit me a second time, I will be LADY'S HISTORY. ?f the companion of your wanderings ; and death only shall divide us from this hour. Take my advice, replied he, live with Don Ambrosio ; unite not your- self with my miseries, but leave me to stand under their undivided weight. These and other such en- treaties he used ; but the more willing he seemed tb sacrifice himself -to my welfare, the less did I feel disposed to take advantage of his generosity. When he saw me resolute in my determination to follow him, he all at once changed his tone ; and assuming an aspect of more satisfaction, Madam, said he, since you still love Don Alvar well enough, to prefer ad- versity with him before your present ease and afflu- ence, let us then take up our abode at Betancos, in the interior of Galicia. There I have a safe retreat. Though my misfortunes may have stripped me of all my effects, they have not alienated all my friends ; some are yet faithful, and have furnished me with the means of carrying you off. "With their help I have hired a carriage at Zamora ; have bought mules and horses, and am accompanied by perhaps the three boldest of the Galicians. They are armed with car- abines and pistols, waiting my orders at the village of Rodillas. Let us avail ourselves of Don Am- brosio's absence. I will send the carriage to the castle gate, and we will set out without loss of time. I consented. Don Alvar flew towards Rodillas, and shortly returned with his escort. My women, from the midst of whom I was carried off, not know- ing what to think of this violent proceeding, made their escape in great terror. Ines only was in the f& Gil BLA&. secret ; but she would not link her fate with mine, on account of a love affair with Don Ambrosio's favorite man. I got into the carriage therefore with Don Alvar, taking nothing with me but my clothes and some jewels of my own before my second marriage ; for I could not think of appropriating any presents of the Marquis. We travelled in the direction of Ga- licia, without knowing if we should be lucky enough to reach it. We had reason to fear Don Ambrosio's pursuit on his return, and that we should be over- taken by superior numbers. We went forward for two days without any alarm, and in the hope of be- ing equally fortunate the third, had got into a very quiet conversation. Don Alvar was relating the melancholy adventure which had occasioned the ru- mor of his death, and how he recovered his freedom, after five years of slavery, when yesterday we met upon the Leon road the banditti you were with. lie it was whom they killed with all his attendants, and it is for him the tears flow, which you see me shed- ding at this moment. CHAPTER XII. A DISAGREEABLE INTERRUPTION. DONNA MENCIA melted into tears as she finished this recital. I allowed her to give a free passage to her sighs ; I even wept myself for company, so A btSAGftE&A&LS INTERRUPTION. 79 natural is it to be interested for the afflicted, and especially for a lovely female in distress. I was just going to ask her what she meant to do in the present conjuncture, and possibly she was going to consult me on the .same subject if our conversation had not been interrupted ; but we heard a great noise in the inn, wliich drew our attention whether we would or no. It was no less than the arrival of the corregidor, attended by two alguazils and their marshal men. They came into the room where we were. A young gentleman in their train came first up to me, and began taking to pieces the dif- ferent articles of my dress. He had no occasion to examine them long. By saint James, exclaimed he, this is my identical doublet ! It is the very thing, and as safely to be challenged as my horse. You may commit this spark on my recognizance ; he is one of the gang who have an undiscovered retreat in this country. At this discourse, which gave me to understand my accuser to be the gentleman robbed, whose spoils to my confusion were exclusively my own, I was without a word to say for myself, looking one way and the other, and not knowing where to fix my eyes. The corregidor, whose office was suspicion, set me down for the culprit ; and, presuming on the lady for an accomplice, ordered us into separate cus- tody. This magistrate was none of your stem gal- lows-preaching fellows, he had a jocular epigram- matic sort of countenance. God knows if his heart lay in the right place for all that ! As soon as I 80 GIL SLAS, was committed, in came he with his pack. They knew their trade, and began by searching me. What a forfeit to these lords of the manor ! At every handful of pistoles, what little eyes did I see them make ! The corregidor was absolutely out of his wits ! It was the best stroke within the memory of justice ! My pretty lad, said his worship with a softened tone, we only do our duty, but do not you tremble for your bones before the time : you will not be broken on the wheel if you do not deserve it. These blood-suckers were emptying my pockets all the time with their cursed palaver, and took from me what their betters of the shades below had the de- cency to leave my uncle's forty ducats. They stuck at nothing ! Their stanch fingers, with slow but certain scent, routed me out from top to toe ; they whisked me round and round, and stripped me even to the shame of modesty, for fear some sneak- ing portrait of the king should slink between my shirt and skin. When they could sift me no further, the corregidor thought it time to begin his examina- tion. I told a plain tale. My deposition was taken down ; and the sequel was, that he carried in his train his bloodhounds, and my little property, leav- ing me to toss without a rag upon a beggarly whisp of straw. O, the miseries of human life ! groaned I, when I found myself in this merciless and solitary condi- tion. Our adventures here are whimsical, and out of all time and tune. From my first outset from Oviedo, I had got into a pleasant round of difficult- GIL BLAS COmilTTEJ) TO PRISON. gl ies ; hardly had I worked myself out of one danger, before I soused into another. Coming into town here, how could I expect the honor of the corregidor's acquaintance? While thus communing with my own thoughts, I got once more into the cursed doublet and the rest of the paraphernalia which had got me into such a scrape ; then plucking up a little courage, Never mind, Gil Bias, thought I, do not be chicken-hearted. AVhat is a prison above ground, after so brimstone a snuffle as thou hast had of the regions below ? But, alas ! I hallo before I am out of the wood ! I am in more experienced hands than those of Leonarda and Domingo. My key will not open this grate ! I might well say so, for a prisoner without money is ^ike a bird with its wings clipped ; one must be in full feather, to flutter out of distance from these gaol-birds. But we left a partridge and a young rabbit on the spit ! How they got off I know not ; but my sup- per was a bit of sallow-complexioned bread, with a pitcher of water to render it amenable to mastica- tion ! and thus was I destined to bite the bridle in my dungeon. A fortnight was pretty well without seeing a soul but my keeper, who had orders that I should want for nothing in the bread and water way ! Whenever he made his appearance I was in- clined to be sociable, and to parley a little to get rid of the blue devils ; but this majestic minister was above reply, he was mum ! he scarcely trusted his eyes but to see that I did not slip by him. On the sixteenth day, the coi'rcgidor strutted in to this VOL. I. 6 82 GIL BLAS. tune You are a lucky fellow ! I have news for you. The lady is packed off for Burgos. She came under my examination before her departure, and her answers went to your exculpation. You will be at large this very day if your carrier from Pegnaflor to Cacabelos agrees in the same tale. He is now in Astorga. I have sent for him, and expect him here ; if he confirms the story of the torture, you are your own master. At these words I was ready to jump out of my skin for joy. The business was settled ! I thanked the magistrate for the abridgment of justice with which he had deigned to favor me, and was getting to the fag end of my compliment, when the muleteer arrived, with an attendant before and behind. I knew the fellow's face ; but he, having as a matter of course sold my cloak-bag with the contents, from a deep-rooted affection to the money which the sale had brought, swore lustily that he had no acquaint- ance with me, and had never seen me in the whole course of his life. O ! you villain, exclaimed I, go down on your knees and own that you have sold my clothes. Prythee, have some regard to truth ! Look in my face ; am not I one of those shallow young fellows whom you had the wit to threaten with the rack in the corporate town of Cacabelos ? The muleteer turned upon his toe, and protested he had not the honor of my acquaintance. As he per- sisted in his disavowal, I was recommitted for further examination. Patience once more ! It was only reducing feasts and fasts to the level of bread and RELE'ASED FROM PRISOtf. 83 Water, and regaling the only sense I had the means of using with the sight of my tongue-tied warden. But when I reflected how little innocence would avail to extricate me from the clutches of the law, the thought was death ; I panted for my subterrane- ous paradise. Take it for all in all, said I, there were fewer grievances than in this dungeon. I was hail fellow well met with the banditti ! I bandied about my jokes with the best of them, and lived on the sweet hope of an escape ; whereas my innocence here will only be a passport to the galleys. CHAPTER XIII. THE LUCKY MEANS BY WHICH OIL LAS US GAPED FROM PRISON, AND HIS TRAVELS AFTERWARDS. WHILE I passed the hours in tickling my fancy with my own gay thoughts, my adventures, word for word, as I had set my hand to them, were cur- rent about the town. The people wanted to make a show of me ! One after another, there they came, peeping in at a little window of my prison, not too capacious of daylight ; and when they had looked about them, off they went ! This raree-show was a novelty. Since my commitment, there had not been a living creature at that window, which looked into ft court where silence and horror kept guard. This gave me to understand that I was become the town- talk, and I knew not whether to divine good or evil from the omen. 84 tflL BLAS. One of my first visitors was the little chorister of Mondognedo, who had a fellow-feeling with me for the rack, and an equally light pair of heels. I knew him at once, and he had no qualms about acknowl- edging me as an acquaintance. We exchanged a kind greeting, then compared notes since our separa- tion. I was obliged to relate my adventures in due form and order. The chorister, on his part, told ine what had happened in the inn at Cacabelos, between the muleteer and the bride, after we had taken to our heels in a panic. Then, with a friendly assurance at parting, he promised to leave no stone unturned for my release. His companions, of mere curiosity, testified their pity for my misfortune ; assuring me that they would lend a helping hand to the little chorister, and do their utmost to procure my freedom. They were no worse than their word. The cor- regidor was applied to in my favor, who, no longer doubtful of my innocence, above all when he had heard the chorister's story, came three weeks after- wards into my cell. Gil Bias, said he, I never stand shilly-shally: begone, you are free; you may take yourself off whenever you please. But, tell me, if you were carried to the forest, could you not dis- cover the subterraneous retreat? No, sir, replied I : as I only entered in the night, and made my escape before daybreak, it would be impossible to fix upon the spot. Thereupon the magistrate withdrew, assuring me that the gaoler should be ordered to give me free egress. In fact, the very next moment TREATMENT BY THE OFFICERS. S5 the turnkey came into my dungeon, followed by one of his outriding establishment, with a bundle of clothes under his arm. They both of them stripped me with the utmost solemnity, and without uttering a single syllable, of my doublet and breeches, which had the honor to be made of a bettermost cloth almost new ; then, having rigged me in an old frock, they shoved me out of their hospitable mansion by the shoulders. The taking I was in to see myself so ill equipped, acted as a cooler to the usual transport of prisoners at recovering their liberty. I \vas tempted to escape from the town without delay, that I might withdraw from the gaze of the people, whose prying eyes I could not encounter but with pain. My gratitude however got the better of my diffidence. I went to thank the little chorister, to whom I was so much obliged. He could not help chuckling when he saw me. That is your trim, is it? said he. As far as I see, you cannot complain that your case has not been sifted to the bottom. I have nothing to say against the laws of my country, replied I ; they are as just as need be. I only wish their officers Avould take after them. They might have spared me my suit of clothes ! I have paid for them over and over again. I am quite of your mind, rejoined he ; but they would tell you that these are little formali- ties of old standing, which cannot be dispensed with. What ! you are foolish enough to suppose, for in- stance, that your horse has been restored to its right owner? Not a word of it, if you please : the beast 86 GIL BLAS. is at this present in the stables of the register, where it has been impounded as a witness to be brought into court : if the poor gentleman comes off with the crupper, he will be so much in pocket. But let us change the subject. What is your plan? What do you mean to do with yourself? I have an inclina- tion, said I, to take the road for Burgos. I may light on my rescued lady ; she will give me a little ready cash : I shall then buy a new short cassock, and betake myself to Salamanca, where I shall see what I can make of my Latin. All my trouble is, how to get to Burgos : one must live on the road. I understand you, replied he. Take my purse : it is rather thinly lined, to be sure ; but you know a chorister's dividends are not like a bishop's. At the same time he drew it from his pouch, and inserted it between my hands with so good a grace, that I could not do otherwise than accept it, for want of a better. I thanked him as though he had made me a present of a gold mine, and tendered him a thousand promises of recompense, to be duly honored and punctually paid at doom's-day. With this I left him, and skulked out of the town, not paying my respects, to my other benefactors ; but giving them a thousand blessings from my heart. The little chorister had reason for speaking mod- estly of his purse ; it was not orthodox. By good luck, I had been used for these two months to a very slender diet, and had still a little small change left when I reached Ponte de Mula, not far from Burgos, there to inquire after Donna Mencia, The INCIDENTS OF TRAVEL. 7 hostess of the inn I put up at was a little withered, spiteful, emaciated bit of mortality. I saw at a glance, by the mouths she made at me aside, that my frock did riot hit her fancy ; and I thought it a proof of her taste. So I sat myself down at a table ; ate bread and cheese, and drank a few glasses of execrable wine, such as innkeepers technically call cassecoquin. During this meal, which was of a piece with the outward appearance of the guest, I did my utmost to come to closer quarters with my landlady. Did she know the Marquis de la Guar- dia? Was his castle far out of town? Above all, what was become of my lady marchioness? You ask many questions in a breath, replied she, bri- dling with disdain. But I got out of her, though by hard pumping, that Don Ambrosio's castle was but a short league from Ponte de Mula. After I had done eating and drinking, as it was night, I thought it natural to go to bed, and asked for my room. A room for you ! shrieked my land- lady, darting at me a glance of contempt and pride ; I have no rooms for fellows who make their supper on a bit of cheese. All my beds are bespoke. There are people of fashion expected, and our ac- commodations are all kept for them. But I will not be unchristian : you may lie in my barn : I suppose your soft skin will not be incommoded by the feel of straw. She spoke truth without knowing it. I took it all in silence, and slunk to my roosting-place, where I fell asleep like a man, the excess of whose labors are his ready passport to the blessings of repose, 88 GIL BLAS. CHAPTEE XIV. DONNA MENCIA'S RECEPTION OF HIM AT BURGOS. I WAS no sluggard, but got up the next morning betimes. I paid my bill to the landlady, who was already stirring, and seemed a little less lofty and in better humor than the evening before ; a circum- stance I attributed to the endeavors of three kind guardsmen belonging to the holy brotherhood. These gentlemen had slept in the inn : they were evidently on a very intimate footing with the host- ess : and doubtless it was for guests of such note that all the beds were bespoke. I inquired in the town my way to the castle where I wanted to present myself. By accident I made up to a man not unlike my landlord at Pegnaflor. He was not satisfied with answering my question to the point ; but informed me that Don Ambrosio had been dead three weeks, and the marchioness his lady had taken the resolution of retiring to a convent at Burgos, which he named. I proceeded immediately towards that town, instead of taking the road to the castle, as I had first meant to do, and flew at once to the place of Donna Mencia's retreat. I besought the attendant at the turning-box to tell that lady that a young man just discharged from prison at Astorga wanted to speak with her. The nun went on the message immediately. On her return, she showed me into a parlor, where I did not wait long before DONNA MENCIA'S RECEPTION. &9 Don Ambrosio's widow appeared at the grate in deep mourning. You are welcome, said the lady. Four days ago I wrote to a person at Astorga, to pay you a visit as from me, and to tell you to come and see me the moment you were released from prison. I had no doubt of your being discharged shortly : what I told the corregidor in your exculpation was enough for that. An answer was brought that you had been set at liberty, but that no one knew what was be- come of you. I was afraid of not seeing you any more, and losing the pleasure of expressing my grat- itude. Never mind, added she, observing my con- fusion at making my appearance in so wretched a garb ; your dress is of very little consequence. Af- ter the important services you have rendered me, I should be the most ungrateful of my sex, if I were to do nothing for you in return. I undertake there- fore to better your condition : it is my duty, and the means are in my power. My fortune is large enough to pay my debt of obligation to you, without putting myself to inconvenience. You know, continued she, my story up to the time when we both were committed to prison. I will now tell you what has happened to me since. When the corregidor at Astorga had sent me to Burgos, after having heard from my own lips a faithful recital of my adventures, I presented my- self at the Castle of Ambrosio. My return thither excited extreme surprise : but they told me that it was too late ; the marquis, as if he had been tliun- 90 <# BLAS. derstruck at my flight, fell sick ; and the physicians despaired of his recovery. Here was a new incident in the melancholy tragedy of my fate. Yet I or- dered my arrival to be announced. The next mo- ment I ran into his chamber, and threw myself on my knees by his bedside, with a face running down with tears and a heart oppressed with the most lively sorrow. Who sent for you hither ? said he as soon as he saw me ; are you come to contemplate your own contrivance ? Was it not enough to have deprived me of life ? But was it necessary to satisfy your heart's desire, to be an eye-witness of my death? My lord, replied I, Ines must have told you that I fled with my first husband ; and, had it not been for the sad acci- dent which has taken him from me forever, you never would have seen me more. At the same time I ac- quainted him that Don Alvar had been killed by a banditti, whose captive I had consequently been in a subterraneous dungeon. After relating the particu- lars of my story to the end, Don Ambrosio held out to me his hand. It is enough, said he affectionately, I will make no more complaints. Alas ! Have I in fact any right to reproach you? You were thrown once more in the way of a beloved husband ; and gave me up to follow his fortunes : can I blame such an instance of your affection? No, madam, it would have been vain to resist the will of fate. For that reason I gave orders not to pursue you. In my rival himself I could not but respect the sacred rights with which he was invested, and even the impulse of your flight seemed to have been communicate^ GENEROSITY OF DONNA MENCIA. 91 by some superior power. To close all with an act of justice, and in the spirit of reconciliation, your return hither has reestablished you completely in my affection. Yes, my dear Mencia, your presence fills me with joy : but, alas ! I shall not long be sensible to it. I feel my last hour to be at hand. No soon- er are you restored to me, than I must bid you an eternal farewell. At these touching expressions, my tears flowed in torrents. I felt and expressed as much affliction as the human heart is capable of containing. I question whether Don Alvar's death, doting on him as I did, had cost me more bitter lam- entations. Don Ambrosio had given way to no mis- taken presage of his death, which happened on the following day ; arid I remained mistress of a consid- erable jointure, settled on me at our marriage. But I shall take care to make no unworthy use of it. The world shall not see me, young as I still am, wantoning in the arms of a third husband. Besides that such levity seems irreconcilable with the feel- ings of any but the profligate of our sex, I will frankly own the relish of life to be extinct in me ; so that I mean to end my days in this convent, and to become a benefactress to it. Such was Donna Mencia's discourse about her future plans. She then drew a purse from beneath her robe, and put it into my hands, with this ad- dress : Here are a hundred ducats simply to furnish out your wardrobe. That done, come and see me again. I mean not to confine my gratitude within ipuch narrow bounds. I returned her a, 92 GIL BLAS. thanks, and promised solemnly not to quit Burgos, without taking leave of her. Having given this pledge, which I had every inclination to redeem, I went to look out for some house of entertainment. Entering the first I met with, I asked for a room. To parry the ill opinion my frock might convey of my finances, I told the landlord that, however ap- pearances might be against me, I could pay for my night's lodging as well as a better dressed gentle- man. At this speech, the landlord, whose name was Majuelo, a great banterer in a coarse way, run- ning over me with his eyes from top to toe, answered with a cool, sarcastic grin, that there was no need of any such assurance : it was evident I should pay my way liberally, for he discovered something of nobility through my disguise, and had no doubt but I was a gentleman in very easy circumstances. I saw plainly that the rascal was laughing at me ; and, to stop his humor before it became too convulsive, gave him a little insight into the state of my purse. I went so far as to count over my ducats on a table before him, and perceived my coin to have inclined him to a more respectful judgment. I begged the favor of him to send for a tailor. A broker would be better, said he ; he w r ill bring all sorts of apparel, and you will be dressed up out of hand. I approved of this advice, and determined to follow it : but, as the day was on the point of closing, I put off my purchase till the morrow, and thought only of get- ting a good supper, to make me amends for the mis- erable fare I had taken up with since my escape from, the forest. HIS DRESS. CHAPTER XV. OIL BIAS DRESSES HIMSELF TO MORE ADVANTAGE, AND RE- CEIVES A SECOND PRESENT FROM THE LADY. HIS EQUI- PAGE ON SETTING OUT FROM BURGOS. THEY served me up a plentiful fricassee of sheep's trotters, almost the whole of which I demolished. My drinking kept pace with my eating : and when I could stuff no longer, I went to bed. I lay com- fortably enough, and was in hopes that a sound sleep would have the kindness without delay to commit a friendly invasion on my senses. But I could not close an eye,' for ruminating on the dress I should choose. What shall I do, thought I? Shall I fol- low my first plan ? Shall I buy a short cassock, and go to Salamanca to set up for a tutor ? Why should I adopt the costume of a licentiate ? For the pur- pose of going into orders? Do I feel an inward call? No. If I have any call, it is quite the con- trary way. I had rather wear a sword than an apron : and push my fortune in this world, before I think of the next. I made up my mind to take on myself the appear- ance of a gentleman. Waiting for the day with the greatest impatience, its first dawn no sooner greeted my eyes, than I got up. I made such an uproar in the inn, as to wake the most inveterate sleeper, and called the servants out of bed who returned my salute with a volley of curses. But they found themselves under a necessity of stirring, and I let them have no 94 GIL BLASt rest, till they had sent for a broker. The gentleman soon made his appearance, followed by two lads, each lugging in a great bundle of green cloth. He accosted me very civilly, to the following effect : Honored sir, you are a happy man to have been recommended to me rather than any one else. I do not mean to give my brethren an ill word : God forbid I should offer the slightest injury to their reputation ! They have none to spare. But, be- tween ourselves, there is not one of them that has any bowels ; they are more extortionate than the Israelites. There is not a broker but myself, that has any moral sense. I keep within the bounds of a reasonable profit. I am satisfied with a pound in the penny ; no, no ! that is wrong : with a penny in the pound. Thanks to Heaven, I get for- ward fair and softly in the world. The broker, after this preface, which I, like a fool, took for chapter and verse, told his journeymen to undo their bundles. They showed me suits of every color in the rainbow, and exposed to sale a great choice of plain cloths. These I threw aside with contempt, as thinking them too undressed ; but they made me try on one which fitted me as well as if I had been measured for it, and just hit my fancy, though it was a little the worse for wear. It was a doublet with slashed sleeves, with breeches and a cloak, the whole of blue velvet with gold em- broidery. I felt a little hankering after this partic- ular article, and attempted to beat down the price. The broker, who saw my inclination, told me I had IMPROVES titS DRESS. 95 a very correct taste. By all that is sacred ! ex- claimed he, it is plain you are no younker. Take this with you ! That dress was made for one of the first nobility in the kingdom, and has not been on his back three times. Look at the velvet ; feel it : nothing can be richer or of a better color ; and for the embroidery, come, now ! tell truth : did you ever see better workmanship? What is the price of it? said I. Only sixty ducats, replied he. I have refused the money, or else I am a liar. The alternative could not fail in one proposition or the other. I bid five and forty : two or three and twenty would have been nearer the mark. My worthy master, said the broker coolly, I never ask too much. I have but one price. But here, added he, holding up the suits I had thrown aside ; take these : I can afford to sell them a better bar- gain. All this only inflamed my eagerness to buy what I was cheapening ; and as I had no idea that he would have made any abatement, I paid him down sixty ducats. When he saw how easily a fool and his money were parted, I verily believe that, in spite of the moral sense, he heartily repented not having taken a hint from the extortionate Israelite. But reconciling himself as well as he could to the small profit, to which he professed to confine himself, of a pound upon a penny, he retreated with his journey- men. I was not suffered to forget that they must have something for their trouble. I had now a cloak, a doublet, and a very decent pair of breeches. The rest of my wardrobe was to 9$ Qlt be thought of : and this took up the whole morning; I bought some linen, a hat, silk stockings, shoes, and a sword ; and concluded by putting on my pur- chases. What pleasure was it to see myself so well accoutred ! My eyes were never cloyed, as it were, with the richness of my attire. Never did peacock look at his own plumage with less philoso-* phy. On that very day, I paid a second visit to Donna Mencia, who received me with her usual affability. She thanked me over again for the service I had rendered her. On that subject, rapid was the interchange of compliments. Then, wish- ing every kind of success, she bade me farewell, and withdrew, without giving me any tiling but a ring worth thirty pistoles, which she begged me to keep as a remembrance. I looked very foolish with my ring ! I had reckoned on a much more considerable present. Thus, little satisfied with the lady's bounty, I measured back my steps in a very musing attitude : but as I entered the inn door, a man overtook me, and throwing off his wrapping cloak, discovered a large bag under his arm. At the vision of the bag, apparently full of current coin, I stood gaping, as did most of the company present. The voice of angel or archangel could not have been sweeter, than when this messenger of earthly dross, laying the bag upon the table, said : Signer Gil Bias, the lady marchioness desires her compliments. I bowed the bearer out, with an accumulation of fine speeches ; and, as soon as his back was turned, A SECOND PRESENT. 97 pounced upon the bag, like a hawk upon its quarry, and bore it between my talons to my chamber. I untied it without loss of time, and the contents were ; a thousand ducats ! The landlord, who had overheard the bearer, came in just as I had done counting them, to know what was in the bag. The sight of my riches displayed upon a table, struck him in a very forcible manner. What the devil ! here is a sum of money ! So, so ! you are the man ! pursued he with a waggish sort of leer, you know how to tickle the fancies of the ladies ! Four and twenty hours only have you been in Burgos, and marchionesses, I warrant you, have surrendered at the first summons ! This discourse was not so much amiss. I was half inclined to leave Majuelo in his error ; for it flattered my vanity. I do not wonder young fellows are fond of passing for men of gallantry. But as yet the purity of my morals was proof against the suggestions of my pride. I undeceived my landlord, by telling him Donna Mencia's story, to wliich he listened very attentively. Afterwards I let him into the state of my affairs ; and, as he seemed to take an interest in them, besought him to assist me with his advice. He ruminated for some time ; then said with a serious air : Master Gil Bias, I have taken a liking to you ; and since you are candid enough to open your heart to me, I will tell you sincerely what I think would suit you best. You were evidently born for a court life : I recommend you to go thither, and to get about the persom of some VOL. I. 7 98 GIL BLAS. considerable nobleman. But make a point either of getting at his secrets, or administering to his pleasures ; unless you do that, it will be all lost time in his family. I know the great : they reckon nothing upon the zeal and attachment of a real friend ; but only care for pimping sycophants. You have besides another string to your bow. You are young, with an attractive person : parts out of the question, for they are not at all times necessary, it is hard if you cannot turn the head of some rich widow, or handsome wife with a broomstick for her husband. Love may ruin men of fortune ; but it makes amends by feathering the nests of those who have none. My vote therefore is for Madrid : but you must not make your appearance there without an establish- ment. There, as elsewhere, people judge by the outside ; and you will only be respected according to the figure you make. I will find you a servant, a tried domestic, a prudent lad ; in a word, a fellow of my own creation. Buy a couple of mules ; one for yourself, the other for him : and set off as fast as you can. This counsel w r as too palatable to be refused. On the day following, I purchased two fine mules, and bargained with my new servant. He was a young man of thirty, of a very simple and godly appear- ance. He told me he was a native of Galicia, by name Ambrose de Lamela. Other servants are sel- fish, and think they never can have w^ages enough. This fellow assured me he was a man of few wants, and should be contented with whatever I had the JbONNA MENCIA^S COUsitf. f)9 goodness to give him. I bought a pair of boots, with a portmanteau to lock up my linen and my money. Having settled with my landlord, I set out from Burgos the next morning before sunrise, on my way to Madrid. CHAPTER XVI. SHOWING THAT PROSPERITY WILL SLIP THROUGH A MAST'S FINGERS. WE slept at Duengnas the first night, and reached Valladolid on the following day, about four o'clock in the afternoon. We alighted at the inn of the most respectable appearance in the town. I left the care of the mules to my fellow, and went up to a room whither I ordered my portmanteau to be car- ried by a waiter. As I felt a little weary, I threw myself on a couch in my boots, and fell asleep in- voluntarily. It was almost night when I awoke. I called for Ambrose. He was not to be found in the house ; but made his appearance in a short time. I asked him where he had been : he ansAvered in his godly way, that he was just come from church, whither he went for the purpose of thanksgiving, by reason that we had been graciously preserved from all perils and dangers between Burgos and Valladolid. I commended his piety ; and ordered a chicken to be roasted for supper. At the moment when I was giving this order, my ioo GIL landlord came into my room with a light in his hand. That cursed candle served to introduce a lady, hand- some but not young, and very richly attired. She leaned upon an usher, none of the youngest, and a little blackamoor was her train-bearer. I was under no small surprise when this fair incognita, with a profound obeisance, begged to know if my name might happen to be Signor Gil Bias of Santillane? I had no sooner blundered out yes, than she released her sweet hand from the custody of the usher, and embraced me with a transport of joy, of which I knew less and less what to make. Heaven be praised, cried she, for all its mercies ! You are he, noble sir, the very man of whom I was in quest. By this introduction, I was reminded of my friend the parasite at Pegnaflor, and was on the point of suspecting the lady to be no better than an honest woman should be : but her finale gave me a much higher opinion of her. I am, continued she, first cousin to Donna Mencia de Mosquera, whom you have so greatly befriended. It was but this morn- ing I received a letter from her. She writes me word that having learned your intention of going to Madrid, she wished me to receive you hospitably on your journey, if you went this way. For these two hours have I been parading the town. From inn to inn have I gone to inform myself what strangers were in the house ; and I gathered from the land- lord's description, that you were most likely to have been my cousin's deliverer. Since then I have found you out, you shall know by experience my ARRIVAL OF DON RAPHAEL. 101 gratitude to the friends of my family, and especially to my dear cousin's hero. You will take up your abode, if you please, at my house. Your accom- modations will be better. I wished to excuse my- self ; and told the lady that I could not be so trouble- some : but her importunities were more than a match for my modesty. A carriage was Availing at the door of the inn to convey us. She saw my port- manteau taken care of with her own eyes, because, as she justly observed, there were a great many li<>-ht-finu;cred gentry about Valladolid to be sure O o o *> there wpre a great many light-fingered gentry about Valladolid, as she justly observed ! In short, I got into the carriage with her and the old usher, and suffered myself to be carried off bodily from the inn, to the great annoyance of the landlord, who saw him- self thus weaned from all the little perquisites he had reckoned on from my abode under his roof. Our carriage, having rolled on some distance, stopped. We alighted at the door of a handsome house, and went up stairs into a well furnished apartment, illuminated by twenty or thirty wax candles. Several servants were in waiting, of whom the lady inquired whether Don Raphael was come. They answered, No. She then addressed herself to me : Signor Gil Bias, I am waiting for my brother's return from a country seat of ours, about two leagues distant. What an agreeable surprise will it be to him to find a man under his roof to whom our family is so much indebted ! At the very moment she had finished this pretty speech, we heard a noise, an4 102 GIL BLAS. were informed at the same time that it was oc- casioned by the arrival of Don Raphael. This spark soon made his appearance. He was a young man of portly figure and genteel manners. I am in ecstasy to see you back again, brother, said the lady ; you will assist me in doing the honors to Signer Gil Bias of Santillane. We can never tlo enough to show our sense of his kindness to our kinswoman, Donna Mencia. Here, read this letter I have just received. Don Raphael opened the envelope, and read aloud as follows : " MY DEAR CAMILLA : Signer Gil Bias of Santil- lane, the saviour of my honor and my life, has just set out for court. He will of course pass through Val- ladolid. I conjure you by our family connection, and still more by our indissoluble friendship, to give him a hospitable reception, and to detain him for some time as your guest. I flatter myself that you will so far oblige me, and that my deliverer will receive every kind of polite attention from yourself, and my cousin Don Raphael. Your affectionate cousin, "Burgos. DONNA MENCIA." What ! cried Don Raphael, casting his eyes again over the letter, is it to this gentleman my kins- woman owes her honor and her life ? Then Heaven be praised for this happy meeting. With this sort of language, he advanced to wards me ; and squeezing me tightly in his arms : What joy to me is it, added he, to have the honor of seeing Signor Gil Bias of DONNA MENCIA'S HEALTH. 1Q3 Santillane ? My cousin the marchioness had no need to press the hospitality. Had she only told us simply that you were passing through Valladolid, that would have been enough. My sister Camilla and I shall be at no loss how to conduct ourselves towards a young gentleman, who has conferred an' obligation, not to be repaid, on her of all our family most tenderly beloved by us. I made the best answer I could to these speeches, which were fol- lowed by many others of the same kind, and inter- larded with a thousand bows and scrapes. But Lord bless me, he has his boots on ! The servants were ordered in, to take them off. We next went into another room, where the cloth was laid. Down we sat at table, the brother, sister, and myself. They paid me a hundred compli- ments during supper. Not a word escaped me, but they magnified it into an admirable hit ! It was impossible not to observe the assiduity with which they both helped me out of every dish. Don Raphael often pledged me to Donna Mencia's health. I could not refuse the challenge ; and it looked a little as if Camilla, who was a very good companion, ogled at me with no questionable meaning. I even thought I could perceive that she watched her op- portunity, as if she was afraid of being detected by her brother. An oracle could not have convinced me more firmly that the lady was caught ; and I looked forward to a little delicate amusement from the discovery, during the short time I was to stay at Valladolid. That hope was my tempter to comply 104 OIL BLAS. with the request they made me, of condescending to pass a few days with them. They thanked me kindly for indulging thern with my company ; and Camilla's restrained, but visible transport, confirmed me in the opinion that I was not altogether dis- agreeable in her eyes. Don Raphael, finding I had made up my mind to be his guest for a few days, proposed to take me to his country house. The description of it was mag- nificent, and the round of amusements he meditated for me was not to be described. At one time, said he, we will take the diversion of the chase, at another that of fishing ; and whenever you have a mind for a saunter, we have charming woods and gardens. In addition, we shall have agreeable society. I flatter myself you will not find the time hanglieavy on your hands. I accepted the invitation, and it was agreed that we should go to this fine country house the fol- lowing day. We rose from table with this pleasant scheme in our mouths. Don Raphael seemed in ecstasy. Signor Gil Bias, said he, embracing me, I leave you with my sister. I am going presently to give the necessary orders, and send invitations round to the families I wish to be of the party. With these words he sallied forth from the room where we were sitting. I went on chatting with the lady, whose topics of discourse did not belie the glances of her expressive eyes. She took me by the hand, and playing with my ring, You have a mighty pretty brilliant there, said she, but it is small. Are you a judge of jewelry? I answered, no! J am. TRICKED OUT OF HIS RING. 1Q5 sorry for that, resumed she, because I was in hopes you could have told me what this is worth. As she uttered these words, she showed me a large ruby on her finger ; and, while I was looking at it, said An uncle of mine, who was governor of the Spanish settlements in the Philippine Isles, gave me this ruby. The jewellers at Valladolid value it at three hundred pistoles. It cannot be worth less, said I, for it is evidently a very fine stone. Why then, since you have taken a fancy to it, replied she, an exchange is no robbery. In a twinkling she whisked off my ring, and placed her own on my little finger. After this exchange, a genteel way enough of mak- ing a present, Camilla pressed my hand and gazed at me with expressive tenderness ; then, all at once breaking off the conversation, wished me good night, and retired to hide her blushes, as if she had been ready to sink at the indiscreet avowal of her senti- ments. No one hitherto had trod less in the paths of gal- lantry than myself! Yet I could not shut my eyes to the vista vision opened to me by this precipitate retreat. Under these circumstances, a country ex- cursion might have its charms. Full of this flatter- ing idea, and intoxicated with the prosperous condi- tion of my affairs, I locked myself into my bed-room, after having told my servant to call me betimes in the morning. Instead of going to sleep, I gave my- self up to the disagreeable reflections which my port- manteau, snug upon the table, and my ruby excited in my breast. Heaven be praised, thought I, though 106 GIL BLAS. misfortunes have been my lot, I am unfortunate no longer. A thousand ducats here, a ring of three hundred pistoles value there ! I am in cash for a considerable time. Indeed Majuelo was no flatterer, I see clearly. The ladies of Madrid will take fire like touchwood, since the green sticks of Valladolid are so inflammable. Then the kind regards of the generous Camilla arrayed themselves in all their charms, and I tasted by anticipation the amuse- ments Don Raphael was preparing for me at his villa. In the mean while, amid so many images of pleasure, Sleep was on the watch to strew his poppies on my couch. As soon as I felt myself drowsy, I un- dressed and went to bed. The next morning, when I awoke, I found it rather late. It was odd enough that my servant did not make his appearance, after such particular orders. Ambrose, thought I to myself, my devout Ambrose is either at church, or abominably lazy this morning. But I soon let go this opinion of him to take up a worse ; for getting out of bed, and seeing no portmanteau, I suspected him to have stolen it during the night. To clear up my suspicions, I opened my chamber door, and called the religious rascal over and over again. An old man answered, saying What is your pleasure, sir? All your folks left my house before daybreak. Your house ! How now ! exclaimed I ; am I not under Don Raphael's roof? I do not know the gentleman, said he. You are in a ready-furnished lodging, and I am the landlord. Yesterday evening, an hour be- CURSES HIS ILL FORTUNE. 107 fore your arrival, the lady who supped with you came hither, and engaged this suite of apartments for a nobleman of high rank, travelling incognito , as she called it. She paid me beforehand. I was now in the secret. It was plain enough what sort of people Camilla and Don Raphael were ; and I conjectured that my servant, having wormed him- self into a complete knowledge of my concerns, had betrayed me to these impostors. Instead of blaming myself for this sad accident, and considering that it could never have happened but for my indiscretion in so unnecessarily betraying my confidence to Ma- juelo, I gave bad language to the poor harmless Dame Fortune, and cursed my ill star in a hundred different formularies. The master of the ready-fur- nished lodging, to whom I related the adventure, which perhaps was as much his as mine, showed some little outward sensibility to my affliction. He lamented over me, and protested he was deeply mor- tified that such a play should have been acted in his J. / house ; but I verily beliere, notwithstanding his fine words, that he had an equal share in the cheat with mine host at Burgos, to whom I have never denied the merit of so ingenious an invention. 108 GIL CHAPTER XVII. THE MEASURES GIL BIAS TOOK AFTER THE ADVENTURE OP THE READY-FURNISHED LODGING. AFTER the first transports of my grief were over, I began to consider, that instead of giving way to remorse, I ought rather to bear up against my ill fate. I summoned back my resolution, and by way of comfort, said to myself as I was dressing I am still in luck that the knaves have not carried off my clothes and what little money I had in my pocket. I gave them some credit for being so considerate. They had even been generous enough to leave me my boots, which I parted with to the landlord for a third of their cost. At last I sallied out of the ready-furnished lodging, unencumbered, heaven be praised, with baggage or attendance. The first thing I did was to go and see if my mules were still at the inn, where we alighted the evening be- fore. It was not to be supposed that Ambrose would have neglected a due attention to them ; and it would have been well for me if I had always taken such exact measure of his character. I learned that he had not waited for the morning, but had been careful to fetch them off over-night. Under these circumstances, satisfied I should never see them again, any more than my portmanteau, I walked sulkily along the streets, musing on the future plans I should adopt. I was tempted to go back to Bur- gos, and once more have recourse to Donna Mencia ; V MEETS rflTH GIL BLASt. 100 but, regarding this as an abuse of that lady's good- ness, and being aware, moreover, what a fool I should look like, I thought it best to forego that idea. I made a vow too for the future to be on my guard against women. I could have sent the chaste Susanna to the house of correction. From time to time my ring caught my eye ; it was a present from Camilla ! and I was ready to burst with anguish. Alas ! thought I, I am no judge of jewelry, but I shall be, by experience of these hucksters who ex- change without a robbery. I need not go to a jew- eller to be told I am an ass ! I can see my own face in my ruby. Yet I did not neglect to know the truth respecting the value of my ring, and showed it to a lapidary, who rated it at three ducats. At such an estimate, though as much as I expected, I made a formal sur- render to the devil, of the Philippine Isles, the gov- ernor and his niece ; or rather, I only restored his own subjects to their lawful sovereign. As I was going out of the lapidary's shop, a young fellow brushed by me, and on looking round, made a full stop. I could not recollect his name at first, though his features were perfectly familiar to me. How now, Gil Bias, said he, are you ashamed of an old acquaintance ? or have two years so altered the son of Nunez the barber, that you do not know him? Do not you recollect Fabricio, your townsman and schoolfellow? How often have we kept, before Doctor Godinez, upon universals and metaphysics ! These words did not flow so fast as my recollec- GIL tiLAS. tion, and we embraced with mutual good will. Well, my friend, resumed he, I am overjoyed to meet with you. Words fall short. . . . But how is this? Why, you look like as Heaven is my judge, you are dressed like a grandee ! A gentle- man's sword, silk stockings, a velvet doublet and cloak, embroidered with silver ! Plague take it ! this is getting on in the world with a vengeance. I will lay a wager you are in with some old moneyed harridan. You reckon without your host, said I, my affairs are not so prosperous as you imagine. That will not do for me, replied he, I know better things ; but you have a mind to be close. And that fine ruby on your finger, master Gil Bias, whence comes that, if I may be so bold? It comes, quoth I, from an infernal jade. Fabricio, my dear Fabri- cio, far from being point, quint, and quatorze with the ladies of Valladolid, you are to know, my friend, that I am their complete bubble. I uttered these last words so ruefully, that Fabri- cio saw plainly that some trick had been played upon me. He was anxious to learn why I was out of humor with the lovely sex. I had no difficulty in satisfying his curiosity ; but as the story was a long one, and besides we had no mind to part in a hurry, we went into a coffee-house to be a little more at ease. There I recounted to him, during breakfast, all that had happened to me since my departure from Oviedo. My adventures he thought whim- sical enough ; and testifying his sympathy in my present uneasy circumstances, added We must FABR1CIO RELATES HlS ADVENTURES. make the best, my good lad, of all our misfortunes in this life. Is a man of parts in distress? he waits patiently for better luck. Such a one, as Cicero truly observes, never suffers himself to be humbled so low as to forget that he is a man. For my own part, that is just my character ; in or out of favor there is no sinking me ; I always float on the surface of ill-luck. For example, I was in love with a girl of some family at Oviedo, and was beloved by her in return. I asked her of her father in marriage, he refused. Many a young fellow would have died of grief; but no ! mark my spirit, I carried off the little baggage. She was lively, heedless, and co- quettish : pleasure consequently was always upper- most to the prejudice of duty. I took her with me for six months backwards and forwards about Gali- cia ; thence, adopting my taste for travelling, she had a mind to go to Portugal, but in other company more food for despair. Yet I did not give in under the weight of this new affliction ; but, im- proving on Menelaus, thought myself much obliged to the Paris who had whispered in the ear of my Helen, for ridding me of a bad bargain ; I therefore determined to keep the peace. After that, not find- ing it convenient to return to the Asturias and bal- ance accounts with justice, I went forward into the kingdom of Leon, spending between one town and another .all the loose cash remaining from the rape of my Indian princess ; for we had both of us bird- limed our fingers at our departure from Oviedo. I got to Palencia with a solitary ducat, out of which I was obliged to buy a pair of shoes. The remainder would not go far. My situation became rather per- plexing. I began already to be reduced to short allowance ; something must be done. I resolved to go out to service. My first place was with a woollen-draper in a large way, whose son was a lad of wit and fashion ; here was a complete antidote to fasting, but then there was a little awkwardness. The father ordered me to dog the son, the son begged my assistance in imposing on the father ; it was necessary to take one side or other. En- treaties sound more musical than commands, and my taste for music got me turned out of doors. The next service I entered into was with an old painter, who undertook, as a matter of favor, to teach me the principles of his art ; but he was so busy in feeding me with knowledge, that he forgot to give me any meat. This neglect of substance for shadow disgusted me with my abode at Palencia. I came to Valladolid, where, by the greatest good luck in the world, I was hired by a governor of the hos- pital ; I am with him still, and delighted with my quarters. My master, Signer Manuel Ordonnez, is a man of profound piety. He always walks with his eyes cast downwards, and a large rosary in his hand. They say that from his early youth, having been a close inspector of the poor, he has interested him- self in their affairs with unwearied zeal. Charity draws down a blessing on the charitable, everything has prospered with him. What a favorite of Heaven ! The more he does for the poor, the richer he grows* FABRICIO RELATES HtS ADVENTURES. H3 A-S Fabricio was going on in this manner, I inter- rupted him. It is well you are satisfied with your lot ; but, between ourselves, surely you might play your part better in the world. Do not you believe it, Gil Bias, replied he ; be assured that for a man of my temper a 'more agreeable situation could not possibly have been devised. The trade of a lackey is toilsome, to be sure, for a poor creature ; but for a lad of spirit it is all enchantment. A superior genius, when he gets a service, does not go about it like a lumpish simpleton. He enters into a family as viceroy over the master, not as an inferior minis- ter. He begins by measuring the length of his employer's foot ; by lending himself to his weak- nesses, he gains his confidence, and ends with lead- ing him by the nose. Such has been my plan of operation at the governor's. I knew the pilgrim at once by his staff; his wish was for an earthly can- onization. I pretended to believe him to be the saint he wished to be taken for ; hypocrisy costs nothing. Nay, I went further, for I took pattern by him ; and playing the same part before him which he played before others, I out-cozened the cozener, and by degrees got to be major domo. I am in hopes some day or other, under his wing, to have the fingering of the poor's-box. It may bring a blessing upon me as well as another ; for I have caught the flame from him, and already feel deeply for the interests of charity. These are fine hopes, my dear Fabricio, replied I ; and I congratulate you upon them. For my part, I VOL. I. 8 ]14 GIL BIAS. am determined on my first plan. I shall straight way convert my embroidered suit into a cassock, repair to Salamanca, and there, enlisting under the banner of the university, fulfil the sacred duties of a tutor. A fine scheme ! exclaimed Fabricio, a pleas- ant conceit ! What madness, at your age, to turn pedant. Are you aware, you stupid fellow, what you take upon yourself by that choice ? As soon as you are settled, all the house will be upon the watch, your most trivial actions will be minutely sifted. You will lead a life of incessant constraint ; you must set yourself off with a counterfeit outside, and affect to entertain a double set of the cardinal virtues in your bosom. You will not have a moment to bestow on pleasure. The everlasting censor of your pupil, your days will pass in teaching grammar and administering saintly reprehension, when he shall say or do any thing against decorum. After so much labor and confinement, what will be your reward? If the little gentleman is a pickle, they will lay all the blame on your bad management ; and you will be kicked out of the family, it may be, without your stipend. Do not tell me then of a tutor's employ- ment ; it is worse than a cure of souls. But talk as much as you will about a lackey's occupation, that is a sinecure, and pledges you to nothing. Suppose one's master not to be immaculate ? A servant of superior genius will flatter his vices, and not unfre- quently turn them to account. A footman lives at his ease in a good family. After having ate and drank his fill, he goes to bed peaceably, without troubling himself who pays the bills. GIL 3 LAS APPLIES FOR A SITUATION. I should never have done, my dear fellow, pursued he, were I to enumerate all the advantages of service. Trust me, Gil Bias, discard forever your foolish wish of being a tutor, and follow my example. So be it ; but, Fabricio, replied I, governors like yours are not to be met with every day ; and if resolved to go to service, I should like at least to get a good situation. O ! you are in the right, said he, and that shall be my concern. I will get you a com- fortable place, if it was only to snatch a fine fellow from the jaws of the university. The near approach of poverty with which I was threatened, and Fabricio's apparent good case, hav- ing more weight with me than his arguments, I determined to wear a livery. On which we sallied forth from the tavern, and my townsman said : I am going to introduce you to a man, to whom most of the servants resort when they are on the ramble ; he has eavesdroppers about him to pick up all that passes in families. He knows at once where the servants are going away, and keeps a correct regis- ter, not only of vacant places, but of vacant masters, with their good and bad properties. The fellow has been a friar in some convent or other. In short, he it was who got me my place. While we were conversing about so singular an office of intelligence, the son of Nunez the barber took me into a street which had no thoroughfare. We went into a mean house, where we found a man about fifty writing at a table. We wished him good day, with quite as much humility as became 'GIL 8LAS. us : but, whether it was from natural pride, or that, from a habit of seeing none but lackeys and coach- men, he had got a trick of receiving his company with an easy freedom, without rising from his seat, he just gave a slight nod. He seemed surprised that a young man in embroidered velvet should want a place ; he had rather expected me to have wanted a servant. However, he was not kept long in doubt, since Fabricio said at once : Signor Arias de Lon- dona, give me leave to introduce one of my best friends. He is a youth of good connections, whom adverse circumstances have reduced to the necessity of going to service. Have the goodness to provide for him handsomely, and you may trust to his grati- tude. Gentlemen, replied Arias cooly, this is the way with you all ; before you are settled, you make the finest promises in the world : but afterwards, Lord help us ! your memories are very short. The deuce ! replied Fabricio, why, you do not complain of me ? Have not I done the thing genteelly ? You ought to have done it much better, rejoined Arias : your place is better than a clerk in a public office, and you paid me as if I had quartered you upon a poor author. Here I interfered, and told Master Arias, that to convince him I was not a shabby fel- low, I would make my acknowledgments before- hand; at the same time taking out two ducats, with an assurance of not stopping there if he got me into a good birth. He seemed to like my mode of dealing. There are, said he, some very good places vacant. I will LICENTIATE SEDILLO. H7 give you a list of them, and you shall take your choice. With these words, he put on his spectacles, opened a register on the table, turned over a few of the leaves, and began reading to this effect : Captain Torbellino wants a footman ; a hasty, hairbrained, humorsome chap ; scolds incessantly, swears, kicks his servants, and very often cripples them. Go on to the next, cried I, at this picture ; such a captain will never do for me. My sprightliness made Arias smile, and he went on with his catalogue thus : Donna Menuela dc Sandoval, a superannuated dowager, peevish and fantastical, is in want at this very time ; she keeps but one, and him never for four and twenty hours. There has been a livery in the house for these ten years, which fits every new comer, whether tall or short. They only just try it on ; so that it is as good as new, though it has had two thousand owners. Doctor Alvar Fanez wants a journeyman ; an eminent member of the faculty ! He boards his family very handsomely, has every thing comfortable about him, and gives very high wages ; but he is a little too fond of experiments. When he gets a parcel of bad drugs, which happens very often, there is a pretty quick succession of new servants. O ! I do not in the least doubt it, interrupted Fabricio with a horse-laugh. Upon my word you give a fine character of your customers. Patience, said Arias de Londona ; we have not yet got to the end : there is variety enough. Thereupon he con- tinued to read on : Donna Alfonsa de Solis, an old GIL BLAS. devotee, who lives two thirds of her time at church, and always keeps her servant at her apron string, has been in want for these three weeks. The Li- centiate Se"dillo, an old prebendary of the chapter here, ^turned away his servant yesterday evening. . . . Halt there, Signer Arias de Londona, cried Fabricio at that passage ; we will stick to the church. The Licentiate S^dillo is one of my mas- ter's friends, and I am very well acquainted with him. I know he has for his housekeeper an old hypocrite, called Dame Jacintha, who is complete mistress of the family. It is one of the best houses in Valladolid. A very idle life, and plenty of ex- cellent meat and drink. Besides, his reverence is an old, gouty, infirm man, likely soon to make his will ; there is a legacy to be looked after. That is a delightful prospect for one of our cloth ! Gil Bias, added he, turning round to me, let us lose no time, my friend, but go immediately to the licentiate's house. I will introduce you myself, and give you a character. At these words, for fear of missing such an opportunity, we took a hasty leave of Signer Arias, who assured me, for my money, that if I failed here, he would do something as good for me elsewhere, DAME JAC1NTUA. BOOK THE SECOND. CHAPTER I. FABRICIO INTRODUCES GIL ULAS TO THE LICENTIATE SE- D1LLO, AND PROCURES HIM A RECEPTION. THE DOMESTIC ECONOMY OF THAT CLERGYMAN. PICTURE OF IIIS HOUSE- KEEPER. WE were so dreadfully afraid of offending against the regular hours of the old licentiate, that we made but a hop, skip, and jump, from the street with one outlet, to the prebendal residence. The gates were barred : but we ventured to announce our arrival. A girl of ten years old, the housekeeper's professed niece, and slander could not gainsay the relationship, opened the door to us. As we asked to speak with his reverence, Dame Jacintha made her appearance. She was a lady of ripe person and parts, but by no means past her prime ; and I was particularly at- tracted by the clearness of her complexion. She wore a long woollen gown of the most ordinary quality, with a large leathern girdle, whence hung suspended a bunch of keys on one side, and on the other a tremendous string of beads. As soon as we got a glimpse of her, we made our obeisances with all possible reverence. She returned our salutation 120 GIL with similar good breeding, but with an air of modesty, and eyes communing with the ground. I have been told, said my fellow-servant, that the reverend the Licentiate Se'dillo wants an honest lad, and I have one at his service with whom he will be well satisfied. The superintendent of the house- hold turned up her eyes at these words, with a sig- nificant side glance at me ; and, finding it difficult to reconcile my laced jacket with Fabricio's ex- ordium, asked if it was this fine gentleman who was come after the place. Yes, said the son of Nunez, it is this interesting and engaging youth. Just as you see him, the ups and downs of this transitory life have compelled him to wear an epaulet ; but fate will have made him ample amends, added he with an affected languish, if he is so happy as to be an inmate here, and to profit by the society of the virtuous Jacintha. The patriarch of the Indies might have sighed for the virtuous Jacintha at the head of his establishment. At these words, this withered branch of piety withdrew her penetrating regards from me, to contemplate this courteous spokesman. Struck with certain lines which were not new to her, in his face, I have some floating idea of having seen you before, said she ; but my memory wants a lift. Holy Jacintha, replied Fabricio, it is enough for me to have been blessed with your pious notice. Twice have I been under this venerable , roof with my master, Signor Manuel Ordonnez, governor of the hospital. Ah ! just so, answered the lady chamberlain, I recollect ! You are an old INTRODUCED TO SEDILLO. 121 acquaintance. Welladay now ! Your very belong- ing to Signer Ordonnez is enough to prove you a youth of merit and strict propriety. A servant is known by his place, and this lad could not have a better sponsor. Come along with me ; I will intro- duce you to Signer Se*dillo. I am sure he will be glad to engage a lad at your recommendation. We followed Dame Jacintha. The canon lived in the lower part of the house, in a comfortable suite of wainscoated apartments. She begged us to wait a moment in the ante-chamber, while she went into the licentiate's room. After some private parley with him, merely that he might know what he was about, she came to tell us we might walk in. AVe kenned the old cripple, immersed in an elbow-chair, with a pillow under his head, cushions under his arms, and his legs supported on a large stool, stuffed with down. We were no niggards of our bows as we advanced ; and Fabricio, still taking the lead, not only repeated over again what he had said to the housekeeper, but set about extolling my merit, and expatiated in an especial manner on the honors I had gained in the schools under Doctor Godinez on all metaphysical questions : as if it was necessary for a prebendary's footman to be as learned as his master. However that might be, it served as a tub to the whale. Besides, Dame Jacintha did not look forbidding, and my surety received the following answer : Friend, I receive into my sen-ice the lad you recommend. I like him well enough ; and as for his morals, they cannot be much amiss, since he 122 GIL BLAS. presents himself under the wing of a domestic belong- ing to Signor Ordonnez. As soon as Fabricio saw me safe landed, he made a low bow to the prebendary, a still lower to the lady, and withdrew in high good humor, whispering in my ear that we should meet again, and that I had only to make good my footing. As soon as he had left the room, the licentiate inquired my name, why I had left my native place ; and drew me on by his questions to relate my adventures before Dame Jacintha. They were both highly amused, above all by my last rencounter. Camilla and Don Raphael gave such play to their risible muscles, that I thought old chalkstone would have burst : for, as he laughed with all his might, so violent a cough laid hold of him, as went very near to have carried him off. His will was not made. What an alarm for the housekeeper ! Trembling, distracted, off she flew to the good man's succor, and just like a nurse with a puking child, paddled about his forehead and tapped him on the back. Luckily it was a false alarm ; the old gentleman left off coughing, and the housekeeper tormenting him. When it was over, I was for going on with my narrative ; but Dame Jacintha, in awe of a second fit, set herself against it. She therefore took me with her out of the room to a wardrobe, where, among several suits, was that of my predecessor. This I was to take, and leave my own in its room, which I was not sorry to see laid up safe, in the hope it might be of further use. After this, we went together to get dinner ready, LUXURIOUS LIVING. 123 I knew what I was about in the art of dressing meat. Dame Leonarda, with whom I had served my time, might have passed for a very decent plain cook ; but a mere turnspit to dame Jacintha. The latter might almost have borne away the bell from the archbishop of Toledo's man. She was mistress of every thing ; gravy soups, of the most delicious texture and relish ; and, for made dishes, she could season them up, or soften them down to the most delicate or voluptuous palate. At dinner time we returned to his reverence's apartment. While I was arranging the grand concern close by his arm-chair, the lady of all work crammed a napkin under the old boy's chin, and pinned it behind his back. Without losing a moment, in marched I with a stew, fit to be get before the first gourmand in Madrid, and two courses, to have tickled the gills of a vice- roy, only that Dame Jacintha had touched the spice- box with discretion, for fear of exasperating the gout. At the first glimpse of this goodly mess, my old master, whom I conceived to have lost the use of his limbs, made me to understand that his arms were exempted from the interdict. He availed him- self of their assistance, to get clear of his pillow and cushions, and proceeded gayly to the attack. His hand shook, to be sure ; but some how or other it contrived to do its duty. He sent it backwards and forwards fast enough ; though it brought but half its cargo to the landing-place at a lading : the table- cloth and napkin took toll. I carried off the soup when he had 4one, and brought in a partridge flanked 124 OIL BLAS. by two roast quails, which Dame Jacintha cut up for him. She took care to make him take a good draught of wine, a little lowered at proper intervals, out of a large, deep, silver cup, which she held to his mouth, as if he had been an infant. He winged the partridge, and came down slap-dash upon all the rest of the dishes. When he had done cramming, that saint of the saucepan unpinned his napkin, re- instated his pillow and cushions ; then, leaving him. composed in his arm-chair to the enjoyment of his usual nap after dinner, we took away, and demol- ished the remainder with appetites worthy of our master. The dinner of to-day was the ordinary bill of fare. Our canon played the best knife and fork in the chapter. But the supper was a mere bawbje ; seldom more than a chicken and a little confectionery. I larded my inside in this house, and led a good easy life. There was but one awkward circumstance ; and that was sitting up with my master, to save the expense of a nurse. Besides a strangury, which kept him on the fidget ten times in an hour, he was very much given to perspire ; and in that event, I shifted him. Gil Bias, said he, on the second night, you are an active, clever fellow ; I foresee that we shall jog on very well together. I only just give you a hint to keep in with Dame Jacintha ; the girl has been about me for these fifteen years, and manages all my little matters ; she comforts my out- ward man, and I cannot do too much for her. For that reason, you are to know, that she is more to me FAVOR WITH HIS MASTER. 125 than all my family. There is my nephew, my own sister's son ; why I have turned him out of doors, only to please her. He had no regard for the poor lass : and so far from giving her credit for all her little assiduities, the saucy rascal swore she did not care a farthing for me ! But nowadays, young people think virtue and gratitude all a farce. Heaven be praised, I am rid of the varlet. What claim has blood, in comparison with unquestionable attachment? I am influenced by a give-and-take principle in my connections. You are right, sir, replied I ; gratitude ought to be the first thing, and natural affection the last. Ay ! resumed he ; and my will shall be a comment on that text. My housekeeper shall be residuary legatee ; and you shall have a corner in a codicil, if you go on as well as you have begun. The footman I turned off yes- terday has lost a good legacy, by not knowing where to hit the right nail on the head. If the blockhead had not obliged me, by his ill behavior, to send him packing, I would have made a man of him : but the beggar on horseback gave himself airs *to Dame Jacintha ! Then master lazy-bones did not like sitting up ! I might pass the night as I could, pro- vided he had no trouble with me. O ! the unfeel- ing scoundrel ! exclaimed I, in the true spirit of Fabricio, he was not a man to be about so good a master. The lad for your money should be a hum- ble, but confidential friend ; he should not make a toil of what ought to be a pleasure, but think noth- ing of going through fire and water for your ease. 126 & These professions were not lost upon the licentiate. Neither were my assurances of due submission to Dame Jacintha's authority less acceptable. Puffing myself off for a servant, who was not afraid of work, I got through my business as cheerfully as I could. I never complained of my nursery. Though to be sure it was irksome enough ; and if the legacy had not settled my stomach, I should have sickened at the nature of my employment. It is true I gotrsome hours rest during the day. The housekeeper, to do her justice, was kind enough to me ; owing to the insinuating manner in which I wormed myself into her good graces. Suppose me at table, with her and her niece Ine'silla ! I changed their plates, filled their glasses, never thought of my own dinner before they had every thing they wanted. This was the way to thrive in their esteem. One day when Dame Jacintha was gone to market, finding myself alone with Ine'silla, I began to make myself agree- able. Were her father and mother alive ? O ! no, answered she ; they have been dead this long, long time ; for. my good aunt says they have, and I have never seen them. I religiously believed the little innocent, though her answer was not of the clearest ; and she got into such a humor of talking, as to tell me more than I wanted to know. She informed me, or rather I inferred it from her artless simplicity, that her good aunt had a good friend, who lived likewise with an old canon. The temporalities of the church were under his administration ? and these lucky domestics reckoned upon entwining the spoils DAME JACINTHA. 127 of their masters round the pillars of the hymeneal temple, into whose sanctuary they had penetrated by anticipation. Dame Jacintha, as I have said before, though a little stricken in years, had still some bloom. To be sure, she spared no pains to cherish it : besides daily evacuations, she took plentiful doses of all-powerful jelly. She got her sleep in the night too, while I sat up with my master. But what perhaps contributed most to the freshness of this everlasting flower, was an issue in each leg, of which I should never have known, but for that blab Ine'silla. CHAPTER II. THE CANON'S ILLNESS; HIS TREATMENT; THE CONSE- QUENCE; THE LEGACY TO OIL BLAS. I STAID three months with the Licentiate Se'dillo, without complaining of bad nights. At the end of that time he fell sick. The distemper was a fever ; and it inflamed the gout. For the first time in his life, which had been long, he called in a physician. Doctor Sangrado was sent for ; the Hippocrates of Valladolid. Dame Jacintha was for sending for the lawyer first, and touched that string ; but the patient thought it was time enough, and had a little will of his own upon some points. Away I went therefore for Doctor Sangrado ; and brought him with me. A tall, withered, wan executioner of the sisters three, who had done all their justice for at least these forty years. This learned forerutiner of the undertaker had an aspect suited to his office : his words were weighed to a scruple ; and his jargon sounded grand in the ears of the uninitiated. His arguments were mathematical demonstrations : and his opinions had the merit of originality. After studying my master's symptoms, he began with medical solemnity. The question here is, to remedy an obstructed perspiration. Ordinary prac- titioners, in this case, would follow the old routine of salines, diuretics, volatile sa}ts, sulphur, and mer- cury ; but purges and sudorifics are a deadly prac- tice. Chemical preparations are edged tools in the hands of the ignorant. My methods are more sim- ple, and more efficacious. What is your usual diet? I live pretty much upon soups, replied the canon, and eat my meat with a good deal of gravy. Soups and gravy ! exclaimed the petrified doctor. Upon my word, it is no wonder you are ill. High living is a poisoned bait ; a trap set by sensuality, to cut short the days of wretched man. ,_ We must have M \L/%' i 7* V -X" done with pampering our appetites : the more in- sipid, the more wholesome. The human blood is not a gravy ! Why, then, you must give it such a nourishment as will assimilate with the particle of which it is composed. You drink wine, I warrant you? Yes, said the licentiate, but diluted. O! finely diluted, I dare say, rejoined the physician. This is licentiousness with a vengeance ! A fright- ful course of feeding ! Why, you ought to have died M. SANGRADO'S PRACTICE. years ago. How old are you? I am in my sixty- ninth year, replied the canon. So I thought, quoth"- ^\$he practitioner*/ a premature old age is always the consequence of intemperance.^ If you had only drank clear water all your life, and had been con- tented with plain food, boiled apples for instance, you would not have been a martyr to the gout, and your limj^%oijld have performed their functions with luoricity 1 . ^ 'But I do not desp'air'of setting you on your legs again, provided you give yourself up to my management. The licentiate promised to be upon his good behavior. Sangrado then sent me for a surgeon of Ins own choosing, and took from him six good porringers of blood, by way of a beginning, to remedy this obsti- ; nate obstruction. He then said to the surgeon ; Mas- ter Martin Onez, you will take as much more three hours hence, and to-morrx>w you will repeat the oper- ation. It is a mere vulgar error, that the blood is of any use in the system ; the faster you draw it off, the better. A patient has nothing to do but to keep himself quiet : with him, to live is merely not to die ; he has no more occasion for blood than a man in a trance ; in both cases, life consists exclusively in pulsation and respiration. Wlien the doctor had ordered thes,e frenuent and copious bleedings, he added a dreaeh or warm water at very short inter- vals, maintaining that water in sufficient quantities ' was the grand secret in the materia medica. He then took his leave, telling Dame Jacintha and me with an air of confidence, that he would answer for VOL. i. 9 \ 130 GIL BLAS. the patient's life, if his system was fairly pursued. The housekeeper, though protesting secretly against ^-Ihis new practice, bowed to his superior authority. In fact, we set on the kettles in a hurry ; and, as the physician had desired us above all things to give him enough, we began with pouring down two or three , pints at as many gulpsV~ An hour after, we beset ~~ i$ him again : then, returning^ to the attack time after time, we fairly poured a deluge into his poor stomach. The surgeon, on the other hand, taking out the blood as we put in the water, we reduced the old canon to death's door in less than two days. This venerable ecclesiastic, able to hold it out no longer, as I pledged him in a large glass of his new cordial, said to me in a faint voice Hold, Gil Bias, do not give me any more, my friend. It is plain death will come when he will come, in spite of water ; and, though I have hardly a drop of blood in my veins, I am no better for getting rid of the enemy. x_The ablest physician in the world can do nothing for us, when our time is expired. Fetch a notary ; I will make my will. At these last words, pleasing enough to my fancy, I affected to appear unhappy ; and concealing my impatience to be gone : Sir, said I, you are not reduced so low, thank God, but you may yet recover. 'No, no, interrupted he, my good fellow, it is all over. I feel the gout shifting, and the hand of death is upon me. Make haste, and go where I told you. I saw, sure enough, that he changed every moment : and the case was so urgent, that I ran as fast as I could, leaving him in Dame /f. >./.., Jf ,, THE CONSEQUENCE. Jacintha's care, who was more afraid than myself of his dying without a will. I laid hold of the first notary I could find ; Sir, said I, the Licentiate Se- dillo, my master, is drawing near his end ; he wants to settle his affairs : there is not a moment to be lost. The notary was a dapper little fellow, who loved his joke, and inquired who was our physician. At the name of Doctor Sangrado, hurrying on his cloak and hat : For mercy's sake, cried he, let us set off with all possible speed ; for this doctor despatches busi- ness so fast, that our fraternity cannot keep pace with him. That fellow spoils half my jobs. With this sarcasm, he set forward in good earnest, and, as we pushed on, to get the start of the grim tyrant, I said to him : Sir, you are aware that a dy- ing testator's memory is sometimes a little short ; should my master chance to forget me, be so good as to put in a word in my favor. That I will, my lad, replied the little proctor ; you may rely on it. I will urge something handsome, if I have an oppor- tunity. The licentiate, on our arrival, had still all his faculties about him. Dame Jacintha was by his bedside, laying in her tears by wholesale. She had played her game, and bespoken a handsome remem- brance. We left the notary alone with my master, and went together into the ante-chamber, where we met the surgeon, sent by the physician for another and a last experiment. We laid hold of him. Stop, Master Martin, said the housekeeper, you cannot go into Signor Se"dillo's room just now. He is giving his last orders ; but you may bleed away when the will is made. We were terribly afraid, this pious gentlewoman and I, lest the licentiate should go off with his will half finished ; but by good luck, the important deed was executed. We saw the proctor come out, who finding me on the watch, slapped me on the shoulder, and said with a simper : Gil Bias is not forgotten. At these words, I felt the most lively joy ; and was so well pleased with my master for his kind notice, that I promised myself the pleasure of praying for his soul after death, which event happened anon ; for the surgeon having bled him once more, the poor old man, quite exhausted, gave up the ghost under the lancet. "XJust as he was breathing his last, the physician made his appearance, and looked a little foolish, notwithstanding the universality of his death- bed experience. Yet, far from imputing the acci- dent to the ,new practice, he walked off, affirming with intrepidity, that it was owing to their having been too lenient with the lancet, and too chafy~of~~ their warm water. The medical executioner, I mean the surgeon, seeing that his functions also were at an end, followed Doctor Sangrado. As soon as he saw the breath out of our patron's body, Dame Jacintha, Inesilla, and myself, joined in a decent chorus of funeral lamentation, loud enough to produce a proper effect in the neighbor- hood. The emblem of a life to come, though she had more reason than any of us to rejoice, took the soprano part, and screamed out her afflictions in a most pathetic manner. The room in an instant was crowded with people, attracted less by compassion. THE LICENTIATE'S WILL. 133 than curiosity. The relations of the de'ceased no sooner got wind of his departure than they pounced down upon the premises, and sealed up every thing. From the housekeeper's distress, they thought there was no will ; but they soon found their mistake, and that there was one without a flaw. When it was opened, and they learned the disposition of the tes- tator's principal property, in favor of Dame Jacintha und the little girl, they pronounced his funeral ora- tion in terms not a little disparaging to his memory. They gave a broad apostrophe at the same time to the godly legatee, and a few blessings to me in my turn. It must be owned I had earned them. The licentiate, Heaven reward him for it, to secure my remembrances through life,, expressed himself thus in a paragraph of his will Item, as Gil Bias has already some little smattering of literature, to en- courage his studious habits, I give and bequeath to him. my library, all my books and my manu- scripts, without any drawback or exception. I could not conceive where this said library might be ; I had never seen any. I only knew of some papers, with five or six bound books, on two little deal shelves in my master's closet ; and that was my legacy. The books too could be of no great use to me ; the title of one was, The Complete Man Cook ; another, A Treatise on Indigestion, with the Methods of Cure ; the rest were the four parts of the breviary, half eaten up by the worms. In the article of man- uscripts, the most curious consisted of documents relating to a lawsuit in which the prebendary was 134 GIL BLAS. once engaged for his stall. After having examined my legacy with more minuteness than it deserved, I made over my right and title to these invidious rela- tions. I even renounced my livery, and took back my own suit, claiming my wages as my only reward. I then went to look out for another place. As for Dame Jacintha, besides her residue under the will, she had some snug little articles, which by the help of her good friend she had appropriated to her own use during the last illness of the licentiate. CHAPTER III. GIL BLAS EXTERS INTO DOCTOR SANGRADO'S SERVICE, AND BECOMES A FAMOUS PRACTITIONER. I DETERMINED to throw myself in the way of Signor Arias de Londona, and to look out for a new birth in his register : but as I was on my way to No Thoroughfare, who should come across me but Doc- tor Sangrado, whom I had not seen since the day of my master's death. I took the liberty of touching my hat. He kenned me in \\ twinkling, though I had changed my dress ; and with as much warmth as his temperament would allow him : Ile> day I said he, the very lad I wanted to see ; you have never been out of my thought. I have occasion for a clever fellow about me, and pitched upon you as the very thing, if you can read and write. Sir, re- plied I, if that is all you require, I am your man. ENTERS SANGRADO 'S SERVICE. 135 111 that case, rejoined he, we need look no further. Come home with me ; it will be all comfort : I shall behave to you like a brother. You will have no wages, but every thing will be found you. You shall eat and drink according to the true faith, and be taught to cure all diseases. In a word, you shall rather be my young Sangrado than my footman. I closed in with the doctor's proposal, in the hope of becoming an Esculapius under so inspired a mas- ter. He carried me home on the spur&f the occa- sion, to install me in my honorable employment ; which honorable employment consisted in writing down the name and residence of the patients who sent for him in his absence. There had indeed been a register for this purpose, kept by an old domestic ; but she had not the gift "of spelling accurately, and wrote a most perplexing hand. This account I was to keep. It might truly be called a bill of mortality ; for my members all went from bad to worse during the short time they continued in this system. I was a sort of J)poJdcccpeT~fb^ the other world, to~tuke places in the stage, and to see^thanhe'firsTcome were the first served. My pen was always in my hand, for Doctor Sangrado had more practice than any physician of his time in Valladolid. He had got into reputation with the public by a certain pro- fessional slang, humored by a medical face, and some extraordinary cases, more honored by implicit faith than scrupulous investigation. He was in no want of patients, nor consequently 7 of property. He did not keep the best house in the 136 GIL BLAS. world s we lived with some little attention to econo- my - The usual bill of fare consisted of peas, beans, boiled apples or cheese. He considered this food as best suited to the human stomach, that is to say, as most amenable to the grinders, whence it was to encounter the process of digestion. Nevertheless, easy as was their passage, he was not for stopping the way with too much of them : and, to be sure, he was in the right. But though he cautioned the maid and me against repletion in respect of solids, it was made up by free permission to drink as much water as we liked. Tar from prescribing us any limits there, he would tell us sometimes, Drink, my children ; health consists in the pliability and moisture of the parts. Drink water by pails full, it is a universal dissolvent ; water liquefies all the salts. Is the course of the blood a little sluggish? this grand principle sets it forward : too rapid ? its career is checked. Our doctor was so orthodox on this head, that he drank nothing himself but water, though advanced in years. He defined old age to be a natural consumption which dries us up and Wastes us away : on this principle, he deplored the ignorance of those who call wine old men's milk. He maintained that wine wears them out and cor- rodes them, and pleaded with all the force of elo- quence against that* liquor, fatal in common both to the young and old, that friend with a serpent in its bosom, that pleasure with a dagger under its girdle. In spite of these fine arguments, at the end of a week, a looseness ensued, with some twinges, which THE WATER CURE. 13 ^ \1 I was blasphemous enough to saddle on the universal dissolvent and the new-fashioned diet. I stated my symptoms to my master, in the hope he would relax the rigor of his regimen, and qualify my meals with a little wine, but his hostility to that liquor was in- flexible. If you have not philosophy enough, said he, for pure water, there are innocent infusions to strengthen the stomach against the nausea of aque- ous quaffings. Sage, for example, has a very pretty flavor : and if you wish to heighten it into a debauch, it is only mixing rosemary, wild poppy, and other simples, but no compounds. In vain did he crack off his water, and teach me the secret of composing delicious messes. I was so abstemious, that, remarking my moderation, he said, In good sooth, Gil Bias, I marvel not that you are no better than you are ; you do not drink enough, my friend. Water taken in a small quanti- ty serves only to separate the particles of bile and set them in action ; but our practice is to drown them in a copious drench. Fear not, my good lad, lest a superabundance of liquid should either weaken or chill your stomach ; far from thy better judgment be that silly fear of unadulterated drink. I will insure you against all consequences ; and if my au- thority will not serve your turn, read Celsus. That oracle of the ancients makes an admirable panegyric on water ; in short, he says in plain terms that those who plead an inconstant stomach in favor of wine, publish a libel on their own bowels, and make their organization a pretence for their sensuality. 138 GIL BLAS. As it would have been ungenteel in me to have run riot on my entrance into the career of practice, I affected thorough conviction, indeed I thought there was something in it. I therefore went on drinking water on the authority of Celsus, or to speak in scientific terms, I began to drown the bile in copious drenches of that unadulterated liquor; and though I felt myself more out of order from day to day, prejudice won the cause against experience. It is evident, therefore, that I was in the right road to the practice of physic,^ -Xet I could not always be insensible to the qualms which increased in my frame, to that degree, as to determine me on quit- ting Doctor Sangrado. But he invested me with a new office which changed my tone. Hark you, my , said he to me one day, I am not one of those ers, who leave their house- hold to grow gray in service without a suitable reward. I am well pleased with you, I have a regard for you, and without waiting till you have served your time, I will make your fortune. AVith- out more ado, I will initiate you in the healing art, of which I have for so many years been at the head. Other physicians make the science to consist of vari- ous unintelligible branches ; .but I will shorten the road for you, and dispense with the drudgery of studying natural philosophy, pharmacy, botany, and anatomy, ilemember, my friend, that bleeding and drinking warm water are the two grand principles ; the true secret of curing all the distempers incident to humanity. Yes, this marvellous secret which I BLEEDING AND DRENCHING. 139 reveal to you, and which Nature, beyond the reach of my colleagues, has failed in rescuing from my pen, is comprehended in these two articles name- ly, bleeeding and drenching. Here you have the sum total of my philosophy ; you arc thoroughly bottomed in medicine, and may raise^yourself to the summit of fame on the shouldej?s"6f my long experi- ence. You may enter into partnership at once, by keeping the books in the morning, and going out to visit patients in the afternoon. While I dose the nobility and clergy, you shall labor in your vo- cation among the lower orders ; and when you have felt your ground a little, I will get you admitted into our body. You are a philosopher, Gil Bias, though you have never graduated ; the common herd of them, though they have graduated in due form and order, are likely to run out the length of their tether without knowing their riy-lit hand from their o O left. I thanked the doctor for having so speedily enabled me to serve as his deputy ; and, by way of acknowledging his goodness, promised to follow his system to the end of my career, with a magnanimous indifference about the aphorisms of Hippocrates. But that engagement was not to be taken to the let- ter. This tender attachment to water went against the grain, and I had a scheme for drinking wine every day snugly among the patients. I left off wearing my own suit a second time, to take up one of my master's, and look like an inveterate practi- tioner. After which I brought my medical theories 140 GIL BLAS. into play, leaving them to look to the event whom it might concern. I began on an alguazil in a pleurisy ; he was condemned to be bled with the utmost rigor of the law, at the same time that the system was to be replenished copiously with water. Next I made a lodgment in the veins of a gouty pastry cook, who roared like a lion by reason of gouty spasms. I stood on no more ceremony with his blood than with that of the alguazil, and laid no restriction on his taste for simple liquids. My pre- scriptions brought me in twelve rials ; an incident so auspicious in my professional career, that I only wished for the plagues of Egypt on all the hale sub- jects of Valladolid. As I was coming out of the pastry cook's whom should I meet but Fabricio, a total stranger since the death of the licentiate Sddillo ! He looked at me with astonishment for some seconds ; then set up a laugh with all his might, and held his sides. He had no reason to be grave, for I had a cloak trailing on the ground, with a doublet and breeches of four times my natural dimensions. I was certainly a complete original. I suffered him to make merry as long as he liked, and could scarcely help joining in the ridicule ; but I kept a guard on my muscles to preserve a becoming dignity in public, and the better to enact the physi- cian, whose part in society is not that of a buffoon. If the absurdity of my appearance excited Fabricio's merriment, my affected gravity added zest to it ; and when he had nearly exhausted his lungs, By all the powers, Gil Bias, quoth he, thou art'in complete WITH FABRICIO. masquerade. Who the devil has dressed you up in this manner? Fair and softly, my friend, replied I, fair and softly, be a little on your good behavior with a modern Hippocrates. Understand me to be the substitute of Doctor Sangrado, the most eminent physician in ValladolicL I have lived with him these three weeks. He has bottomed me thoroughly in medicine ; and, as he cannot perform the obse- quies of all the patients who send for him, I visit a part of them to take the burden off his conscience. He does execution in great families, I among the vulgar. Vastly well, replied Fabricio ; that is to say, he grants you a lease on the blood of the com- monalty, but keeps to himself the fee-simple of the fashionable world. I wish you joy of your lot; it is a pleasanter line of practice among the populace than among great folk. Long live a snug connection in the suburbs ! a man's mistakes are easily buried, and his murders elude all but God's revenge. Yes, my brave boy, your destiny is truly enviable ; in the language of Alexander, were I not Fabricio, I could wish to be Gil Bias. To show the son of Nunez, the barber, that he \vas not much out in his reckoning on my present happiness, I chinked the fees of the alguazil and the pastry cook ; and this was followed by an adjourn- ment to a tavern, to drink to their perfect recovery. The wine was very fair, and my impatience for the well-known smack made me tliink it better than it was. I took some good long draughts, and without gainsaying the Latin oracle, in proportion .as I 142 Gt poured it into its natural reservoir, I felt my accom- modating entrails to owe me no grudge for the hard service into which I pressed them. As for Fabricio and myself, we sat some time in the tavern, making merry at the expense of our masters, as servants are too much accustomed to do. At last, seeing the night approach, we parted, after engaging to meet at the same place on the following day after dinner. CHAPTER IV. OIL SLAS GOES ON PRACTISING PHYSIC WITH EQUAL SUC- CESS AND ABILITY. ADVENTURE OF THE RECOVERED RING. I WAS no sooner at home than Doctor Sangrado came in. I talked to him about the patients I had seen, and paid into his hands eight remaining rials of the twelve I had received for my prescriptions. Eight rials ! said he, as he counted them ; mighty little for two visits ! But we must take things as we find them. In the spirit of taking things as he found them, he laid violent hands on six, giving me the other two, Here, Gil Bias, continued he, see what a foundation to build upon. I make over to you the fourth of all you may bring me. You will soon feather your nest, my friend ; for, by the bless- ing of Providence, there will be a great deal of ill health this year. I had reason to be content with my dividend; FIELD OF MtiDlCAL PtlACflCti. 143 since, having determined to keep back the third part of what I received in my rounds, and afterwards touching another fourth of the remainder, half of the whole, if the arithmetic is any thing more than a deception, would become my perquisite. This inspired me with new zeal for my profession. The next day, as soon as I had dined, I resumed my medical paraphernalia, and took the field once more. I visited several patients on the list, and treated their several complaints in one invariable routine. Hitherto things went on under the rose, and no in- dividual, thank Heaven, had risen up in rebellion against my prescriptions. But let a physician's cures be as extraordinary as they will, some quack or other is always ready to rip up his reputation. I was called in to a grocer's son in a dropsy. Whom should I find there before me but a little black look- ing physician, by name Doctor Cuchillo, introduced by a relation of the family. I bowed round most profoundly, but dipped lowest to the personage whom I took to have been invited to a consultation with me. lie returned my compliment with a dis- tant air ; then, having stared me in the face for a few seconds, Signor Doctor, said he, I beg pardon for being inquisitive, I thought I had been acquainted with ah 1 my brethren in Vallodolid, but I confess your physiognomy is altogether new. You must have been settled but a short time in town. I avowed myself s young practitioner, acting as yet under the direction of Doctor Sangrado. I wish you joy, replied he politely, you are studying under 144 6/i bLis. a great man. You must doubtless have seen a vast deal of sound practice, young as you appear to be. He spoke this with so easy an assurance, that I was at a loss whether he meant it seriously, or was laughing at me. While I was conning over my reply, the grocer, seizing on the opportunity, said, Gentlemen, I am persuaded of your both being perfectly competent in your art ; have the goodness without ado to take the case in hand, and devise some effectual means for the restoration of my son's health. Thereupon the little pulse-counter set himself about reviewing the patient's situation ; and after having dilated to me on all the symptoms, asked me what I thought the fittest method of treatment. I am of opinion, replied I, that he should be bled once a day, and drink as much warm water as he can swal- low. At these words, our diminutive doctor said to me, with a malicious simper, And so you think such a course will save the patient? Never doubt it, exclaimed I, in a confident tone ; it must produce that effect, because it is a certain method of cure for all distempers. Ask Signer Sangrado. At that rate, retorted he, Celsus is altogether in the wrong ; for he contends that the readiest way to cure a drop- sical subject is to let him almost die of hunger and thirst. O ! as for Celsus, interrupted I, he is no oracle of mine, as fallible as the meanest of us ; I often have occasion to bless myself for going con- trary to his dogmas. I discover by your language, said Cuchillo, the safe and sure method of practice DEFENCE OF SANGRADO. 145 Doctor Sangrado instils into his pupils. Bleeding and drenching are the extent of his resources. No wonder so many worthy people are cut off under his direction. . . . No defamation ! interrupted I, with some acrimony ; a member of the faculty had better not begin throwing stones. Come, come, my learned doctor, patients can get to the other world without bleeding and warm water ; and I question whether the most deadly of us has ever signed more pass- ports than yourself. If you have any crow to pluck with Signer Sangrado, write against him, he will answer you, and we shall soon see who will have the best of the battle. By all the saints in the calendar ! swore he, in a transport of passion, you little know whom you are talking to. I have a tongue and a fist, my friend ; and am not afraid of Sangrado, who, with all his arrogance and affectation, is but a ninny. The size of the little death-dealer made me hold, his anger cheap. I gave him a sharp retort ; he sent back as good as I brought, till at last we came to cuffs. We had pulled a few handfuls of hair from each other's heads before the grocer and his kinsman could part us. When they had brought this about, they feed me for my attendance, and retained my antagonist, whom they thought the more skilful of the two. Another adventure succeeded close on the heels of this. I went to sec a huge chanter in a fever. As soon as he heard me talk of warm water, he showed himself so averse to this specific, as to fall into a fit of swearing. He abused me in all possi- VOL. I. 10 146 GIL ble shapes, and threatened to throw me out at win- dow. I was in a greater hurry to get out of his house than to get in. I did not choose to see any more patients that day, and repaired to the inn where I had agreed to meet Fabricio. He was there first. As we found ourselves in a tippling humor, we drank hard, and returned to our employers in a pretty pickle, that is to say, so-so in the upper story. Signor Sangrado was not aware of my being drunk, because he took the lively gestures which accompa- nied the relation of my quarrel with the little doc- tor, for an effect of the agitation not yet subsided after the battle. Besides, he came in for his share in my report ; and feeling himself nettled by Cuchillo, You have done well, Gil Bias, said he, to de- fend the character of our practice against this little abortion of the faculty. So he takes upon him to set his face against watery drenches in dropsical cases? An ignorant fellow! I maintain, I do, in my own person, that the use of them may be recon- ciled to the best theories. Yes, water is a cure for all sorts of dropsies , just as it is good for rheuma- tisms and the green sickness. It is excellent, too, in those fevers where the effect is at once to parch and to chill, and even miraculous in those disorders ascribed to cold, thin, phlegmatic, and pituitous hu- mors. This opinion may appear strange to young practitioners like Cuchillo ; but it is right orthodox in the best and soundest systems : so that if persons of that description were capable of taking a philo- sophical view, instead of crying me down, they would become my most zealous advocates. i'Potf WATER. 147 In his rage, he never suspected me of drinking : for, to exasperate him still more against the little doctor, I had thrown into my recital some circum- stances of my own addition. Yet, engrossed as he was by what I had told him, he could not help taking notice that I drank more water than usual that evening. In fact, the wine had made me very thirsty. Any one but Sangrado would have distrusted my being so very dry, as to swallow down glass after glass : but as for him, he took it for granted, in the simpli- city of his heart, that I began to acquire a relish for aqueous potations. Apparently Gil Bias, said he, with a gracious smile, you have no longer such a dislike to water. As Heaven is my judge ! you quaff it off like nectar. It is no wonder, my friend, I was certain you would take a liking to that liquor. Sir, replied I, there is a tide in the affairs of men : with my present lights, I would give all the wine in Valladolid for a pint of water. This answer de- lighted the doctor, who would not lose so fine an opportunity of expatiating on the excellence of water. He undertook to ring the changes once more in its praise, not like a hireling pleader, but as an enthusiast in the cause. A thousand times, exclaimed he, a thousand and a thousand times of greater value, as being more innocent than our modern taverns, were those baths of ages past, whither the people went, not shamefully to squander their fortunes and expose their lives by swilling themselves with wine, but assembled there for the ML decent and economical amusement of drinking warn! water. It is difficult enough to admire the patriotic forecast of those ancient politicians, who established places of public resort, where water was dealt out gratis to all comers, and who confined wine to the shops of the apothecaries, that its use might be pro- hibited, but under the direction of physicians. What a stroke of wisdom ! It is doubtless to pre- serve the seeds of that antique frugality, emblematic of the golden age, that persons are found to this day, like you and me, who drink nothing but water, and are persuaded they possess a prevention or a cure for every ailment, provided our warm water has never boiled ; for I have observed that water, when it has boiled, is heavier, and sits less easily on the stomach. While he was holding forth thus eloquently, I was in danger more than once of splitting my sides with laughing. But I contrived to keep my coun- tenance : nay, more ; to chime in with the doctor's theory. I found fault with the use of wine, and pitied mankind for having contracted an untoward relish to so pernicious a beverage. Then, finding my thirst not sufficiently allayed, I filled a large goblet with water, and after having swilled it like a horse : Come, sir, said I to my master, let us drink plentifully of this beneficial liquor. Let us make those early establishments of dilution you so much regret, to live again in your house. He clapped his hands in ecstacy at these words, and preached to me for a whole hour about suffering no FINDS A PATIENT IN CAMILLA. 149 liquid but water to pass my lips. To confirm the habit, I promised to drink a large quantity every evening ; and , to keep my word with less violence to my private inclinations, I went to bed with a determined purpose of going to the tavern every day. The trouble I had got into at the grocer's did not discourage me from phlebotomizing and prescribing warm water in the usual course. Coming out of a house where I had been visiting a poet in a frenzy, I was accosted in the street by an old woman, who came up and asked me if I was a physician. I said yes. As that is the case, I entreat you with all humility to go along with me. My niece has been ill since yesterday, and I cannot conceive what is the matter with her. I followed the old lady to her house, where I was shown into a very decent room, occupied by a female who kept her bed. I went near, to consider her case. Her features struck me from the first ; and I discovered beyond the possi- bility of a mistake, after having looked at her some little time, the she-adventurer, who had played the part of Camilla so adroitly. For her part she did not seem to recollect me at all, whether from the oppression of her disorder, or from my dress as a physician rendering me not easy to be known again. I took her by the hand, to feel her pulse ; and saw my ring upon her finger. I was all in a twitter at the discovery of a valuable, on which I had a claim both in law and equity. Great was my longing to majce a snatch at it ; but considering that these fair 150 GIL ones would set up a great scream, and that Don Raphael or some other defender of injured inno- cence might rush in to their rescue, I laid an em- bargo on my privateering. I thought it best to come by my own in an honest way, and to consult Fabricio about the means. To this last course I stuck. In the mean time the old woman urged me to inform her with what disease her niece was trou- bled. I was not fool enough to own my ignorance ; on the contrary, I took upon myself as a man of science, and after my master's example, pronounced solemnly that the disorder accrued to the patient from the defect of natural perspiration ; that conse- quently she must lose blood as soon as possible, because if we could not open one pore, we always open another : and I finished my prescription with warm water, to do the thing methodically. I shortened my visit as much as possible, and ran to the son of Nunez, whom I met just as he was going out on an errand for his master. I told him my new adventure, and asked his advice about lay- ing an information against Camilla. Pooh ! Non- sense ! replied he ; that would not be the way to get your ring again. Those gentry think restitution double trouble. Call to mind your imprisonment at Astorga ; your horse, your money, your very clothes, did not they all centre in the hands of jus- tice ? We must rather set our wits to work for the recovery of your diamond. I take on myself the charge of inventing some stratagem for that purpose. I will deliberate on it in my way to the hospital, ADVENTURES OF THE STOLEN RING. where I have to say but two words from my master to the purveyor. Do you wait for me at our house of call, and do not be on the fret : I will be with you shortly. I had waited, however, more than three hours at the appointed place, when he arrived. I did not know him again at first. Besides that he had changed his dress and platted his hair, a pair of false whiskers covered half his face. He wore an immense SAvord with a hilt of at least three feet in cir- cumference, and marched at the head of five men of as swaggering an air as himself, with bushy whiskers and long rapiers. Good day to you, Signer Gil Bias, said he by way of salutation ; behold an alguazil upon. a new construction, and marshalmen of like materials in these brave fellows my companions. We have only to be shown where the woman lodges who purloined the diamond, and we will obtain restitution, take my word for it. I hugged Fabricio at this discourse, which let me into the plot, and testified loudly my approval of the ex- pedient. I paid my respects also to the masquerad- ing marshalmen. They were three servants and two journeymen barbers of his acquaintance, whom he had engaged to act this farce. I ordered wine to be served round to the detachment, and we all went to- gether at nightfall to Camilla's residence. The door was shut, and we knocked. The old woman, taking my companions to be on the scent of justice, and knowing they would not come into that neighborhood for nothing, was terribly frightened. Cheer up again, 152 GIL BLAS. good mother, said Fabricio ; we are only come here upon a little business which will be soon settled. At these words we made our entry, and found our way to the sick chamber, under the guidance of the old dowager who walked before us, and by favor of a wax taper which she carried in a silver candlestick. I took the light, went to the bed-side, and, making Camilla take particular notice of my features, Trait- ress, said I, call to mind the too credulous Gil Bias whom you have deceived. Ah ! thou wickedness personified, at last I have caught thee. The corre- gidor has taken down my deposition, and ordered this alguazil to arrest you. Come, officer, said I to Fabricio, do your duty. There is no need, replied he, swelling his voice, to inflame my severity. The face of that wretch is not new to me : she has long been marked with red letters in my pocket book. Get up, my princess, dress your royal person with all possible despatch. I will be your squire, and lodge you in durance vile, if you have no objection. At these words, Camilla, ill as she was, observing two marshalmen with large whiskers ready to drag her out of bed by main force, sat up of herself, clasped her hands in an attitude of supplication ; and looking at me ruefully, said, Signor Gil Bias, have compassion on me : I call as a witness to my entreaties the chaste mother whose virtues you in- herit. Guilty as I am, my misfortunes are greater than my crimes. I will give you back your diamond, so do not be my ruin. Speaking to this effect, she $rew my ring from her finger, and gave it me back. TREATMENT BY THE OFFICERS. 153 But I told her my diamond was not enough, and that she must refund the thousand ducats they had em- bezzled in the ready-furnished lodging. O ! as for your ducats, replied she, ask nje not about them. That false-hearted deceiver, Don Raphael, whom I have not seen from that time to this, carried them off the very same night. O, ho ! my little darling, said Fabricio in lus turn, that will not do, you had a hand in the robbery, whether you went snacks in the profit or no. You will not come off so cheaply. Your having been accessary to Don Raphael's ma- noeuvres is enough to render you liable to an exam- ination. Your past life is very equivocal ; and you must have a good deal upon your conscience. You will have the goodness, if you please, just to step into the town jail, and there unburden yourself by a general confession. This good old lady shall keep you company : it is hard if she cannot tell a world of curious stories, such as Mr. Corregidor will be delighted to hear. The two women, at these words, brought every engine of pity into play to soften us. They filled the air with cries, complaints, and lamentations. While the old woman on her knees, sometimes to the alguazil and sometimes to his attendants, en- deavored to melt their stubborn hearts, Camilla im- plored me, in the most touching terms, to save her from the hands of justice. I pretended to relent. Officer, said I to the son of Nunez, since I have got my diamond, I do not much care about any thing else. It would be no pleasure to me to be the means 154 GI L BLAS. of pain to that poor woman ; I want not the death of a sinner. Out upon you, answered he, you set up for humanity ! you would make a bad tipstaff. I must do my errand. My positive orders are to arrest these virgins .of the sun ; his honor the cor- regidor means to make an example of them. Nay ! for mercy's sake, replied I, pay some little deference to my wishes, and slacken a little of your severity, on the ground of the present these ladies are on the point of offering to your acceptance. O ! that is another matter, rejoined he ; that is what you may call a figure of rhetoric suited to all capacities and all occasions. Well, then, let us see, what have they to give me? I have a pearl necklace, said Camilla, and drop ear-rings of considerable value. Yes ; but interrupted he roughly, if these articles are the produce of the Philippine Isles, I will have none of them. You may take them in perfect safety, replied she : I warrant them real. At the same time she made the old woman bring a little box, whence she took out the necklace and ear-rings, which she put within the grasp of this incorruptible minister. Though he was much such a judge of jewelry as myself, he had no doubt of the drops being real, as well as the pearls. These trinkets, said he, after having looked at them minutely, seem to be of good quality and fashion : and if the silver candlestick is thrown into the bargain, I would not answer to my own honesty. You had better not, said I in my turn to Camilla, for a trifle, reject so moderate and fair a composition. While uttering these words, I SEQUEL OF THE ADVENTURE. 155 returned the taper to the old woman, and handed the candlestick over to Fabricio, who, stopping there because perhaps he espied nothing else that was portable in the room, said to the two women : Fare- well, my dainty misses, set your hearts at rest, I will report you to his worship the corregidor, as purer than unsmutched snow. We can turn him round our finger ; and never tell him the truth, but when we are not paid for our lies. CHAPTER V. SEQUEL OF THE FOREGOING ADVENTURE. GIL BLAS RETIRES FROM PRACTICE, AND FROM THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF VAL- LADOLID. AFTER having thus carried Fabricio's plan into effect, we took our leave of Camilla's lodging, hug- ging ourselves on a success beyond our expectation : for we had only reckoned on the ring. We carried off without ceremony all we could get besides. Far from making it a point of conscience not to steal from a description of ladies whose names are com- monly associated with rogues, we thought to cover some scores of other sins by so meritorious an ac- tion. Gentlemen, said Fabricio, when we were in the street, my counsel is for returning to our tavern, and devoting the night to a regale. To-morrow we will sell the candlestick, the necklace, the drop ear- rings, and then share the prize money like brother 156 GIL BLAS. adventurers, after which every man shall tramp home again, and make the best excuse he can to his mas- ter. His worship the alguazil's idea seemed equally bright and judicious. We returned rank and file to the tavern, some in the pious hope of finding a plau- sible excuse for having slept abroad, others in a des- perate indifference about being turned out of doors without a character. We ordered a good supper to be got ready, and sat down to table with our physical and mental powers in full vigor. The relish was heightened by a thousand pleasant anecdotes. Fabricio, of all men in the world, having the happy knack of a chair- man in a company of jovial spirits, kept the table in a roar. There escaped from him I know not how many charges of true Castilian wit, worth more either in the schools of philosophy or the exchange of commerce than the drug of Attic salt. While we were in a full peal of laughter, we were made to laugh on the other side of our mouths by an unforeseen occurrence. There appeared at table a man of no contemptible prowess, followed by two other as ill- looking dogs as ever existed. After this specimen we had three others, and reckoned up to a dozen, marching in by triplets. They were armed with carbines, swords and bayonets. We could not mis- take their office, and were at no loss to guess then* business. At first we had a mind to be refractory ; but they beset us in an instant, and kept us under, as much by their numbers as by their weapons. Gentlemen, said the captain commandant in a jeej> ADDRESS op THE cAPTAltf. 157 Ing strain, I have been informed by what ingenious artifice you have recovered a ring from the custody of a lady no better than she should be. Undoubt- edly, the device was admirable, and well deserves a civic crown ; the patriotism of our police will not be found wanting. Justice, with her lodgings to let for gentry of your description, will not be deficient in her acknowledgments for so brilliant a display of genius. The company to whom this introductory address was directed looked a little sheepish on the occasion. Our countenances fell ; and Camilla had her full revenge. Fabricio, however, though pale and puzzled, made an attempt at a defence. Sir, said he, we did it in the innocence of our hearts, and of course we shall be forgiven this not immoral fraud? What the devil, replied the commandant in a rage, do you call this not immoral fraud? Moral or immoral, it may bring you to the gallows. Be- sides that the power of restitution is too sacred to be assumed by the individual, you have made away with a candlestick, a necklace, and a pair of drop ear- rings : and what is worse, you have committed your rascalities in the livery of the law. Scoundrels dressing themselves up like the pillars of morality to undermine its very foundation ! I shall wish you much joy if you are condemned to nothing worse than mowing the salt marsh. When we had im- pressed it on our convictions that the affair was even more serious than our first fears, we threw ourselves on his mercy, and implored him to have pity on our tender years, but his stubborn heart was relentless. 158 &L &LAS. He rejected moreover the proposal of relinquishing the necklace, ear-rings and candlestick ; nay, he was deaf to the rhetoric of my ring : perhaps because I offered it before too many witnesses : in short, he was the most obdurate dog of his kennel. He or- dered my companions to be handcuffed, and sent us in a body to the public prison. As we were on our way, one of the marshalmen acquainted me that Camilla's old vixen, suspecting us not to be licensed scouts of justice, had dogged us to the tavern ; and having satisfied her doubts, in revenge informed against us to the patrol. We were searched in the first instance. Away went the necklace, the ear-rings, and the candlestick. They picked my pocket of my ring, and my ruby of the Philippine Isles ; without even sparing the few fees I had received in the forenoon for my prescrip- tions : so that it was plain, trade was carried on by the same firm at Valladolid as at Astorga, and that all these reformers held the same creed. While they rifled me of my trinkets and money, the lord in waiting of the patrol made known our adventure to the inferior agents of legal rapine. The trespass appeared so audacious that the majority voted it capital. A few kind souls were of opinion that we might come off for two hundred lashes a piece, with a few years on board the galleys. Waiting his wor- ship's sentence, we were locked up in a cell, where we lay upon straw, spread over our stable like a lit- ter for horses. There might we have foddered for an age, and at last have been turned out to grass in the RELEASED FROM PRlSOtf. 159 galleys, if on the morrow Signer Manuel Ordonnez had not got wind of our affair, and determined to release Fabricio ; which he could not do without making a general gaol delivery. He was a man of the first credit in the town : his interest was ex- erted for us, and partly by his own influence, and partly by that of his friends, he obtained our en- largement at the end of three days. But the period of delivery is always moulting time with gaol birds ; the candlestick, the necklace, the ear-rings, my ring, and the ruby, all were left behind. One could not help repeating those excellent lines of Virgil, begin- ning with Sic vos non vobis. As soon as we were at liberty, we returned to our masters. Doctor Sangrado received me kindly. My poor Gil Bias, said he, it was but this morning I was acquainted with thy misfortune. I was just setting about an active canvass for thee. We must derive comfort from adversity, my friend, and attach ourselves more than ever to the practice of physic. I affirmed that to be my intention ; and, in truth, I laid about me. Far from wanting employment, it happened by a kind providence, as my master had foretold, to be a very sickly season. The smallpox, and a very malignant fever, took alternate possession of the town and the suburbs. All the physicians in Valladolid had their share of business, and we not the least. We saw eight or ten patients a day ; so that the kettle was kept on the simmer, and the blood in the action of transpiring. But things will happen cross ; they died to a man, either by our fault or their own. If their case was hopeless, we were not to blame ; and if it was not hopeless, they were. Three visits to a patient was the length of our tether. About the second, we sometimes ran foul of the undertaker ; or when we had been more fortunate than usual, the patient had got no further than the point of death. As I was but a young physician, not yet hardened to the trade of an as- sassin, I grieved over the melancholy issue of my own theory and practice. Sir, said I, one evening to Doctor Sangrado, I call Heaven to witness on the spot that I have never strayed from your infallible method ; and yet I have never saved a patient : one would think they died out of spite, and were on the other side of the great medical question. This very day I came across two of them , going into the coun- try to be buried. My good lad, replied lie, my ex- perience nearly comes to the same point. It is but seldom I have the pleasure of curing my kind and partial friends. If I had less confidence in my prin- ciples, I should think my prescriptions had set their faces against the work they were intended to perform. If you will take a hint, sir, replied I, we had better vary our system. Let us give, by way of experi- ment, chemical preparations to our patients : the worst they can do is to tread in the steps of our pure dilutions and our phlebotomizing evacuations. I would wDlingly give it a trial, rejoined he, if it were a matter of indifference, but I have published on the practice of bleeding and the use of drenches : would you have me cut the throat of my own fame as an THEY DO TERRIBLE EXECUTION. 1(51 author! O, you are in the right, resumed I; our enemies must not gain this triumph over us ; they would say that you were out of conceit with your own systems, and would ruin your reputation for inconsistency. Perish the people, perisli rather our nobility and clergy ! But let us go on in the old path. After all, our brethern of the faculty, with all their tenderness about bleeding, have no patent for longevity any more than ourselves ; and we may set off their drugs against our specifics. We went on working double tides, and did so much execution, that in less than six weeks we made as many widows and orphans as the siege of Troy. The plague must have got into Valladolid by the number of funerals. Day after day came some father or other to know what was become of his son, who was last seen in our hands ; or else a stupid fel- low of an uncle, who had a foolish hankering after a deceased nephew. With respect to the nephews and sons, on whose uncles and fathers we had equalized our system of destruction, they thought that least said was soonest mended. Husbands were alto- gether on their good behavior they would not split a hair about the loss of a wife or two. The real sufferers to whose reproaches we were exposed, were sometimes quite savage in their grief; without being mealy-mouthed in their expressions, they called us blockheads and assassins. I was concerned at their bad language ; but my master, who was up to every circumstance, listened to their abuse with the utmost indifference. Yet I might have grown as callous as VOL. I. 11 162 GIL 8LAS. himself to popular reproach, if heaven, interposing its shield between the invalids of Valladolid and one of their scourges, had not providentially raised up an incident to disgust me with medicine, which from the outset had been disgusted with me. The idle fellows about town assembled every day in our neighborhood for a game at tennis. Among the number was one of those professed bullies who set up for great Dons, and are the complete cocks of the tennis court. He was a Biscay an, and as- sumed the title of Don Roderic de Mondragon. His age might be about thirty. His size was somewhat above the common, but he was lean and bony. Be- sides two sparkling little eyes rolling about in his head, and throwing out defiance against all bystand- ers, a very broad nose came in between a pair of red whiskers, which turned up like a hook as high as the temples. His phraseology was so rough and un- couth that the very sound of his voice would throw a quiet man into an ague. This tyrant over both the rackets and the game was lord paramount in all dis- putes between the players ; and there was no appeal from his decisions, but at the risk of receiving a challenge the next day. Precisely as I have drawn Signor Don Roderic, whom the Don in the fore- ground of his titles could never make a gentleman, Signor Don Roderic was sweet upon the mistress of the tennis-court. She was a woman of forty, in good circumstances, as charming as forty can well be, just entering on the second year of her widowhood. I know not how he made himself agreeable ; certainly LEAVES DR. SAtfGRAbO. not by his exterior recommendations, but probably by that within which passeth show. However that might be, she took a fancy to him, and began to turn her thoughts towards the holy state of matrimony ; but while that great event was in agitation, for the punishment of her sins, she was taken with a malig- nant fever, and with me for a physician. Had the disorder been ever so slight, my practice would have made a serious job of it. At the expiration of four days, there was not a dry eye in the tennis-court. The mistress joined the outward-bound colony of my patients, and her family administered to her effects. Don Roderic, distracted at the loss of his mistress, or rather disappointed of a good establishment, was not satisfied with fretting and fuming at me, but swore he would run me through the body, or even frown me into a non-entity. A good-natured neigh- bor apprised me of this vow, with a caution to keep at home, for fear of coming across this devil of a fel- low. This warning, though taken in good part, was a source of anxiety and apprehension. I was eter- nally fancying the enraged Biscayan laying siege to the outworks of my citadel. There was no getting a moment's respite from alarm. This circumstance weaned me from the practice of medicine, and I thought of nothing but deliverance from my horrors. On went my embroidered suit once more. Taking leave of my master, who did all he could to detain me, I got out of town with the dawn, not heedless of that terrible Don Roderic, who might waylay me on the road. GIL CHAPTER VI. HIS ROUTE FROM VALLADOLID, WITH A DESCRIPTION OF HIS FELL W- TRA VELLER. I TRUDGED on at a great rate, and looked behind from time to time, to see if that dreadful Biscayan was not following me. My imagination was so engrossed by the fellow that he haunted me in every tree and bush ; my heart was in my mouth for fear at every foot-fall. But I took courage again at the . distance of about a league, and went on more gently towards Madrid, whither I proposed directing my steps. I had no attachment to Valladolid. All my regret was at tearing myself from Fabricio, my dear Pylades, of whom I had not so much as taken my leave. It was no grievance to give up physic ; on the contrary, I prayed Heaven to forgive me for having tampered with it. Yet I did not count over the con- tents of my purse with less pleasure, because they were the wages of murder. In this I took after those ladies who retire with a fortune to lead pious lives, and think it hard if they may not fatten religiously on the hard earnings of their libertine profession. I had, in rials, somewhere about the value of five ducats, and this was the surn-totarof my property. With these I designed repairing to Madrid, where I had no doubt of finding a good service. Besides, I wished above all things to be in that magnificent city, the boasted epitome of the world and all its wonders. GIL BIAS ON THE ROAD. 165 While I was recollecting what I had heard of it, and enjoying beforehand the pleasures it affords, I heard the voice of a man coming after me, and sing- ing till he had scraped his throat. He had a wallet on his back, a guitar suspended from his neck, and a long sword by his side. He got on at such a rate, as soon to overtake me. Who should it be but one of the two journeymen barbers with whom I had been in gaol for the adventure of the ring. We knew one another at once, though we had shifted our dresses, and were in a thousand marvels at meeting so unex- pectedly on the highway. If I testified my delight at having such a fellow-traveller, he seemed on his side to feel an excess of rapture at the renewal of our acquaintance. I told him why I had left Valladolid, and he trusted his own secret to me in return, by stating himself to have had a little brush with his mas- ter, on which they had taken an everlasting leave of one another. Hud it been my pleasure, continued he, to have taken up my abode longer in Valladolid, ten shops would take me in for one that would have turned me out ; since, vanity apart, I may safely say there is not a barber in all Spain better qualified to shave all sorts of beards, with the grain or against the grain, and to curl a pair of whiskers. But I could no longer fight against a hankering after my native place, whence I departed full ten years since. I wish to inhale a little of my own country air, and to learn the present situation of my family. I shall be among them the day after to-morrow, at a place called Olmedo, a populous village on this side of Segovia. 1(56 GIL BLAS. I resolved on accompanying this barber home, and going to Segovia for the chance of a cast to Madrid. We began entertaining one another with indifferent subjects as we went along. The young fellow was perfectly good-humored, with a ready wit. After an hour's conversation, he asked me if I was hungry. I referred him to the first house of call for my an- swer. To stop dilapidations till we get there, said he, we may renew our term by a little breakfast from my wallet. When I am on a journey I am always my own caterer. None of your woollen drapery, nor linen drapery, nor any of your frippery or trumpery. I hate ostentation. My wallet contains nothing but a little exercise for my grinders, my razors, and a wash-ball. I extolled his discretion, and agreed with all my heart to the bargain he proposed. My appetite was keen and sharp-set for a comfort- able meal ; after what he had said, I could expect no less. We drew aside a little from the high road, and sat down upon the grass. There my little jour- neyman barber laid out his provisions, consisting of five or six onions, Avith some scraps of bread and cheese ; but the best lot in the auction was a little leathern bottle, full, as he said, of choice, delicate wine. Though the solids were not very relishing, the calls of hunger did not allow either of us to be dainty ; and we emptied the bottle too, containing about two pints of a wine one could not recommend without some remorse of conscience. We then rose from table, and set out again on the tramp in high glee. The barber, who had heard some little THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. snatches of my story from Fabricio, entreated me to furnish him with the whole from the best author- ity. It was impossible to refuse so munificent an host ; I therefore gave him the satisfaction he re- quired. In my turn I called on him, as an acknowl- edgment of my frankness, to communicate the lead- ing circumstances of his terrestrial peregrinations. O ! as for my adventures, exclaimed he, they are scarcely worth recording a mere catalogue of common occurrences. Nevertheless, since we have nothing else to do, I will run over the narrative, such as it is. At the same time he entered on the recital, nearly in the following terms. CHAPTER VII. THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. I TAKE up my tale from the origin of things. My grandfather, Ferdinand Perez de la Fuenta, barber- general to the village of Oline'do for fifty years, died, leaving four sons. The eldest, Nicholas, succeeded to the shop, and lathered himself into the good graces of the customers. Bertram!, the next, hav- ing taken a fancy to trade, set up for a mercer ; and Thomas, who was the third, turned schoolmaster. As for the fourth, by name Pedro, feeling within himself the high destinies of learning, he sold a dirty acre or two which fell to his share, and went 168 GIL BLAS. to settle at Madrid, where he hoped one day to dis- tinguish himself by his genius and erudition. The other three brothers would not part ; they fixed their quarters at Olme'do, marrying peasants' daugh- ters, who brought their husbands very little dowry, except an annual present of a chopping young rustic. They had a most public-spirited emulation in child- bearing. My mother, the barber's wife, favored the world with a contribution of six within the first five years of her marriage. I was among the number. My father initiated me betimes in the mysteries of shaving ; and when he saw me grown up to the age of fifteen, laid this wallet across my shoulders, pre- sented me with a long sword, and said Go, Die- go, you are now qualified to gain your own liveli- hood ; go and travel about. You want a little ac- quaintance with the world to give you a polish, and improve you in your art. Off with you ! and do not return to Olme'do till you have made the tour of Spain, nor let me hear of you till that is accomplished. Finishing with this injunction, he embraced me with fatherly affection, and shoved me out of doors by the shoulders. Such were the parting benedictions of my sire. As for my mother, who had more the touch of nature in her manners, she seemed to feel somewhat at my departure. She dropped a few tears, and even slipped a ducat by stealth into my hand. Thus was I sent from Olme'do into the wide world, and took the road of Segovia. I did not go two hun- dred yards without stopping to examine my bag. I THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. had a mind to view its contents, and to know the precise amount of my possessions. There I found a case with two razors, which must have travelled post over the chins of ten generations, by the evi- dence of their wear and tear, with a strap to set them, and a bit of soap. In addition to this, a coarse shirt quite new, a pair of my father's shoes quite old, and what rejoiced me more than all the rest, a rouleau of twenty rials in a linen bag. Be- hold the sum-total of my personals. You may con- clude master Nicholas, the barber, to have reckoned a good deal on my ingenuity, by his turning me adrift with so slender a provision. Yet a ducat and twenty rials, by way of fortune, was enough to turn the head of a young man unaccustomed to money concerns. I fancied my stock of cash inexhausti- ble ; and pursued my journey in the sunshine of brilliant anticipation, looking from time to time at the hilt of my rapier, while the blade was striking against the calf of my leg at every step, or tripping up my heels. In the evening I reached the village of Ataquinds with a very catholic stomach. I put up at the inn ; and, as if I meant to spend freely, asked, in a lofty tone, what there was for supper. The landlord examined my pretensions with his eye, and finding according to what cloth my coat was cut, said with true publican's civility, Yes, yes, my worthy mas- ter, you shall have no reason to complain ; we will treat you like a lord. AVith this assurance, he showed me into a little room, whither he brought 170 GIL BLAS. me, a quarter of an hour afterwards, a ragout made of a great he cat, on which I feasted with as famous an appetite as if it had been hare or rabbit. This excellent dish was washed down by so choice a wine, that the king had no better in his cellars. I found out, however, that it was pricked ; but that was no hin- drance to my doing it as much honor as the he cat. The last article in this entertainment for a lord was a bed better adapted to drive sleep away than to invite it. Figure it to yourself about the width of a coffin, and so short that I could not stretch my legs, though none of the longest. Besides, there was neither mattress nor feather bed, but merely a little straw sewed up in a sheet folded double, which was laid down clean for every hundreth traveller, and served the other ninety-nine, one after another, without washing. Nevertheless, in such a bed, with a stomach distended to a surfeit by fricaseed cat, and then raked by sour wine, thanks to youth and a good constitution, I slept soundly, and passed the night without being disturbed. On the following day, when I had breakfasted, and paid the reckoning, as I had been treated like a lord, I made but one stage to Segovia. On my arrival, I had the good fortune to find a shop, where they took me in for my board and lodging ; but I staid there only six months ; a journeyman barber, with whom I got acquainted, was going to Madrid, and drew me in to set off with him. I had no diffi- culty in procuring a situation on the same footing as at Segovia, I got into a shop of the very best THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. 171 custom. It is true, it was near the church of the Holy Cross, and that the neighborhood of the Prince's Theatre brought a great deal of business. My master, two stirring fellows and myself, could scarcely lather the chins of the people who came to be shaved. They were of all trades and conditions ; Among the rest, players and authors. One day, two persons of the last description happened to meet. They began conversing about the poets and pieces in vogue, when one of them mentioned my uncle's name : a circumstance which drew my attention more particularly to their discourse. Don Juan de Zavaleta, said one, will never do any good as an author. A man of a cold genius, without a spark of fancy ! he has written himself down at a tf terrible rate by his last publication. And Louis Velez de Guevara, said the other, what has he done ? A fine work to bring before the public ! Was there ever any thing so wretched ? They men- tioned, I know not how many poets besides, whose names I have forgotten : I only recollect that they said no good of them. As for my uncle, they made a more honorable mention of him, agreeing that he was. a personage of merit. Yes, said one, Don Pedro de la Fuenta is an excellent author ; there is a sly humor in his compositions, blended with solid sense, which communicates an attic poignancy to their general effect. I am not surprised at his popu- larity, both in court and city, nor at the pensions settled on him by the great. For many years past, said the other, he has enjoyed a very large income, 172 GIL BLAS. He lives at the Duke de Medina Cell's table, and has an apartment in his house, so that he is at no expense ; he must be very well in the world. I lost not a syllable of what these poets were say- ing about my uncle. We had learned in the family, that he made a noise in Madrid by his works ; some travellers, passing through Olmddo, had told us so ; but as he took no notice of us, and seemed to have weaned himself from all natural ties, we on our side lived in a state of perfect indifference about him. Yet nature will prevail : as soon as I had heard that he was in a fair way, and had learned where he lived, I was tempted to go and call upon him. One tiling staggered me a little ; the literati had styled him Don Pedro. This don was an awkward circumstance : I had my doubts whether he might not be some other poet of the name, and not my uncle. Yet that apprehension did not damp my ardor. I thought he might have been ennobled for his wit, and determined to pay him a visit. For this purpose, with my master's leave, I tricked my- self out one morning as well as I could, and sallied from our shop, a little proud of being nephew to a man who had gained so high a character by his genius. Barbers are not the most diffident people in the world. I began to conceive no mean opinion of myself : and riding the high horse with all the arrogance of greatness, enquired my way to the Duke de Medina Celi's palace. I rang at the gate, and said, I wanted to speak with Signor Don Pe"dro de la Fuenta, The porter pointed with his finger THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. to a narrow staircase at the fag end of the court, and answered, Go up there, then knock at the first door on your right. I did as he directed me ; and knocked at a door. It was opened by a young man, whom I asked if those were the apart- ments of Signer Don Pddro de la Fuenta. Yes, answered he, but you cannot speak to him at pres- ent. I should be very glad, said I, just to say, How are you? I bring him news of his family. And you brought him news of the pope, replied he, I could not introduce you just now. He is writing, and while his wits are at work, he must not be dis- turbed. He will not be able to receive company till noon ; take a turn, and come back about that time. I departed, and walked about town all the morn- ing, incessantly meditating on the reception my uncle would give me. I think, said I within my- self, he will be overjoyed to see me. I measured his feelings by my own, and prepared myself for a very affecting discovery. I returned punctually to the appointed hour. You are just in time, said the servant ; my master was going out. "Wait here a moment : I will announce you. With these words, he left me in the ante-chamber. lie returned almost immediately, and showed me into his master's room. The face struck me all at once as a family likeness. To be sure he was the very image of my uncle Thomas ; they might have been taken for twins. I bowed down 'to the ground, and introduced myself as the son of Master Nicholas de la Fuenta, the barber of Olme'do. I likewise informed him, that I 174 GIL ELAS. had been working at my father's trade in Madrid, for these three weeks, as a journeyman, and in tended making the tour of Spain to complete my educa- tion. While I w3jS speaking, my uncle was evi- dently in a brown study. He seemed to doubt whether he should disown me at once, or get rid of me with some little sacrifice to decency. The latter course he adopted. Affecting the affable : Well, my good kinsman, how are your father and your uncles? Do they get on in the world? I began thereupon by laying before him the family knack at propaga- tion. All the children, male and female, called over by their names, with their godfathers and god- mothers included in the list ! He took no extrava- gant interest in the particulars of my tale ; but, lead- ing to his own purposes, Diego, replied he, I am quite of your mind. You should go from place to place, and see a variety of practice. I would not have you tarry longer at Madrid : it is a very dan- gerous residence for youth ; you may get into bad habits, my sweet fellow. Other towns will suit you better ; the state of society in the provinces is more patriarchal and philosophical. Determine on emi- gration ; and when your departure is fixed, come and take your leave. I will contribute a pistole to the tour of Spain. With this kind assurance, he handed me out of the room, and sent me packing. I had not worldly wisdom enough to find out that he wanted to get quit of me. I went back to our shop, and gave my master an account of the visit I had paid. He looked no deeper than myself into JOVRXEYMAN UAliBER'S SfORY. 175 Signer .Don Pedro's motives, and observed : I can- not help differing from your worthy uncle, so far from advising you to travel the provinces, the real thing would be, in my opinion, to give you a com- fortable settlement in this city. He is hand-and- glove with the first people ; it is an easy matter for him to establish you in a great family ; and that is a fortune at once. Struck with this lucky dis- covery, which seemed to settle the point without difficulty, I called on my uncle again two days afterwards, and made a modest proposal to him for a situation about some leading character at court. But the hint was not taken kindly. A proud man, living at free quarters among the great, and dining with them in a family party, did not exactly wish that, while he was sitting at my lord's table, his nephew should be a guest in the servants' hall. Little Diego might bring a scandal on Signer Don Pexlro. He had no hesitation, therefore, in fairly turning me out of doors, and that with a flea in my ear. "What, you little rascal ! said he, in a fit of ex- travagance, do you mean to relinquish your calling? Begone, I consign you to the reptile whose per- nicious counsels will be your ruin. Take your leave of these premises, and never set your foot on them again, or you shall have the reception you deserve ! I was absolutely stunned at this language, and still more at the peremptory tone my uncle assumed. With tears in my eyes I withdrew, quite overcome by his severity. Yet, as I had always been lively and confident in my temper, I soon wiped away my 176 GIL 8LAS. tears. My grief" was even turned into resentment, and I determined to take no further notice of this unnatural relative, whose kind offices I had hitherto been contented to want. My attention was henceforth directed to the culti- vation of my professional talent ; I was quite a plodding fellow at my trade. I scraped away all day ; and in the evening, by way of relief to my scraping, I twanged the guitar. My master on that instrument was an old Senor Escudero whom I shaved. He taught me music in return ; and he was an adept. To be sure he had formerly been a chorister in a cathedral. His name was Marcos de Obregon. He was a man of the world, with good natural parts and acquired knowledge, which jointly induced him to fix on me as an adopted son. He was engaged as an attendant on a physician's lady, resident within thirty yards of our house. I went to him in the evening, when shop was shut, and we two, sitting on the threshold of the door, made up a little concert not displeasing to the neighborhood. It was not that our voices were very fine ; but in thrumming on the catgut, we made a pretty regular accompaniment to our duet, and filled up the har- mony sufficiently for the gratification of our hearers. Our music was particularly agreeable to Donna Mergelina, the physician's wife ; she came into the passage to hear us, and sometimes encored us in her favorite airs. Her husband did not interfere with her amusement. Though a Spaniard and in years, he was not possessed with jealousy ; besides, his pro- THE JoCRtfEMAtf BARBER'S STORY. 177 Session took up all his time ; and as he came home in the evening, worn out with his numerous visits, he went to bed at an early hour, without troubling himself about his wife or our concerts. Possibly, if he thought about them at all, he might consider them as little likely to produce dangerous conse- quences. He had an additional security in his wife* Mergelina was young and handsome with a witness ; but of so fierce a modesty, that she started at the very shadow of a man. How could he take umbrage at an amusement of so harmless and decorous a nature? He gave us leave to sing our hearts out. One evening, as I came to the physician's door, intending to take my usual recreation, I found the old squire waiting for me. He took me by the hand : saying that he wished to take a little walk with me, before we struck up our little concert. At the same time he drew me aside into a by-street, where, finding an opportunity of opening his mind : Diego, my good lad, said he with a melancholy air, I want to give you a hint in private. I much fear, my good and amiable youth, that we shall both have reason to repent of beguiling our evenings with little musical parties at my master's door. Rely on my sincere friendship : I do not grudge your lessons in singing and on the guitar ; but if I could have fore- seen the storm now brewing, in the name of charity, I would have selected some other spot to communi- cate my instructions ! This address alarmed me. I entreated the gentle squire to be more explicit, and to tell me what we had to fear ; for I was no Hector, VOL. I. 12 OIL tiLAii, and the tour of Spain was not yet finished. I will relate to you, replied he, what it concerns you to know, that you may take proper measure of our present danger. When I got into the service of the physician, about a year ago, he said one morning, after having intro- duced me to his wife : There, Marcos, you see your mistress ; that is the lady you are to accompany in all her peregrinations. I was smitten with Donna Mergelina : she was lovely in the extreme, a model for an artist, and her principal attraction was the pleasantness of her deportment. Honored sir, re- plied I to the physician, it is too great a happiness to be in the train of so charming a lady. My answer was taken amiss by Mergelina, who said rather crustily, A pleasant gentleman this ! He is perfectly free and easy. Believe me, his fine speeches may go a begging for me ! These words, dropped from such lovely lips, seemed rather incon- sistent ; the manners and ideas of bumpkins and dairy-maids coupled with all the graces of the most lovely woman in the world ! As for her husband, he was used to her ways ; and, hugging himself on the unrivalled character of his rib, Marcos, said he, my wife is a miracle of chastity. Then, observing her put on her veil, and make herself ready to go to mass, he told me to attend on her at church. We were no sooner in the street than we met, and it was no wonder, blades who, struck with Donna Merge- lina's genteel carriage, told her a thousand flattering tales as they passed by. She was not backward in JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY'. her answers ; but silly and ill-timed, beyond what you can conceive. They were all in amaze, and could not imagine how a woman should take it amiss to be complimented. Why really ! madam, said I to her at first, you had better be silent, or shut your ears to their addresses, than reply with asperity. No, no, replied she : I will teach these coxcombs that I am not a woman to put up with impertinence. In short, her absurdity went so far, that I could not help telling her my mind, at the hazard of her dis- pleasure. I gave her to understand, yet with the greatest possible caution, that she was unjust to nature, whose handiwork she marred by her pre- posterous ferocity ; that a woman of mild and pol- ished manners might inspire love without the aid of beauty ; whereas the loveliest of the sex, divested of female softness, was in danger of becoming the pub- lic scorn. To this ratiocination, I added collateral arguments, always directed to the amendment of her manners. After having moralized to no purpose, I was afraid my freedom might exasperate my mis- tress, and draw upon me some taunting repartee. Nevertheless, she did not mutiny against my advice ; but silently rendered it of no avail, and thus we went on from day to day. I was weary of pointing out her errors to no pur- pose, and gave her up to the ferocious temperament of her nature. Yet, could you think it ? the savage humor of that proud woman is entirely changed within these two months. She has a kind word for all the world, and manners the most accommodating. 180 6/1 3 LAS. It is no longer the same Mergelina who gave such homely answers to the compliments of her swains : she is become assailable by flattery ; loves to be told she is handsome, that a man cannot look at her with- out paying for it : her ears itch for fine speeches, and she is become a very woman. Such a change is almost inconceivable : and the best of the joke is, that you are the worker of this unparalleled miracle. Yes, my dear Diego, it is you who have transformed Donna Mergelina ; you have softened down the tigress into a domestic animal ; in a word, you have made her feel. I have observed it more than once ; and never trust my knowledge of the sex, if she is not desperately in love with you. Such, my dear boy, is the melancholy news I have to communicate the awkward predicament in which we stand. I do not see, said I in my turn to the old man, that there is any thing so melancholy in this ac- cident, or any peculiar awkwardness in being the object of a pretty woman's partiality. Ah ! Diego, replied he, you argue like a young man : you only see the bait, without guarding against the hook : pleasure is your lure ; while my thoughts are directed to the unpleasant circumstances attending it. Mur- der will out. If you go on singing at our door, you will provoke Mergelina's passion ; and she, prob- ably, losing all command over herself, will betray her weakness to her husband, Doctor Oloroso. That wretched husband, so complying now that he thinks there is no ground for jealousy, will run wild, take signal vengeance upon her, and perhaps play some THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. dog's trick or other to you and me. Well, then ! rejoined I, your reasons shall be conclusive with me, and your sage counsels my rule. Lay down the line of conduct I am to adopt, for the prevention of any left-handed catastrophe. We will have no more concerts, was his peremptory decree. Do not show yourself any more to my mistress : when the sight of you does not inflame her, she will recover her composure. Stay within doors : I will call in upon you, and we will torture the guitar with impunity. With all my heart, said I, and I will never set my foot again in your premises. In good truth, I was determined to serenade no longer before the phy- sician's door, but henceforth to keep within the pre- cints of my shop, since my attractions as a man were so formidable. In the meantime, good Squire Marcos, with all his prudence, experienced in the course of a few days that the plan he had devised to quench Donna Mergelina's flame produced a directly opposite effect. The lady on the second night not hearing me sing, asked why we had discontinued our concerts, and the reason of my absence. He told her I was so busy as not to have a moment to spare for relaxa- tion. She seemed satisfied with that excuse, and for three days longer bore the disappointment of all her hopes like a heroine ; but at the end of that period, my martyr to the tender passion lost all patience, and said to her conductor, You are play- ing false with me, Marcos ; Diego has not discon- tinued his visits without a cause. This mystery 182 GIL BLAS. must be unravelled. Speak, I command you ; con- ceal nothing from me ! Madam, answered he, mak- ing use of another subterfuge, since the truth must be told, it has often happened to him to find the cloth taken away at home after the concert ; he can- not run the risk any longer of going to bed without his supper. What, without his supper ! exclaimed she in an agony, why did not you tell me so sooner ? Go to bed without his supper ! O ! the poor little sufferer ! Go to him this instant, and let him come again this evening ; he shall not go home starving any more, there shah 1 always be a luncheon for him. What do I hear? said the squire, affecting aston- ishment at this language ; O, Heaven, what a re- verse ! Is this you, madam, and are these your sentiments ? Well-a-day ! Since when are you so compassionate and tender-hearted? Since, replied she significantly, since you have lived in this house, or rather since you disapproved my disdainful man- ners, and have labored to soften the acrimony of my temper. But, alas ! added she, in a melting mood, I have gone from one extreme to the other. Proud and insensible as I was, I am become too suscepti- ble too tender. I am enamoured of your young friend Diego, and I cannot help myself; his absence, far from allaying my ardor, only adds fuel to the fire. Is it possible, resumed the old man, that a young fellow with neither face nor person should have in- spired so strong a passion ? I could make allowance for your feelings, if they had been set afloat by some nobleman of distinguished merit. , . . Ah ! Marcos, THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. 183 interrupted Mergelina, I am not like the rest of my sex ; or, rather, spite of your long experience, your penetration is but shallow if you fancy merit to have much share in our choice. Judging by myself, we all leap before we look. Love is a mental derange- ment, forcibly drawing all our views and attachments into one vortex a species of hydrophobia. Have done then with your hints that Diego is not worthy of my tenderness ; that he has it is enough to invest him Avith a thousand perfections too authorial for your gross sight, and perhaps too unsubstantial for any but a lover's perception. In vain you disparage his features or his stature ; in my eyes he was created to undo, and encircled by the hand of Nature with the glories of the opening day. Nay, more, there is a thrilling sweetness in his voice ; his touch on the guitar has the taste of an amateur, and the execution of a professor. But, madam, subjoined Marcos, do you consider who Diego is ? The meanness of his station. . . . My own is very little better, inter- rupted she again ; though were I of noble birth, it would make no diifcrence in my sensations. The result of that conference was that the squire, concluding he should make no impression on the mind of his mistress, gave over struggling with her obstinacy, as a skilful pilot runs before the storm, though it carries him out to sea from his intended port. He did more : to satisfy his patroness, he paid me a visit, took me aside, and, after having related what had passed between them : You see, Diego, eaid he, that we cannot dispense with the perform- 184 GIL BLAS. ance of our concerts at Mergelina's door. Absolutely, my friend, that lady must see you again ; otherwise she may commit some act of desperation fatal to her good name. I was not inexorable, but answered Marcos that I would attend with my guitar early in the evening ; and dispatched him to his mistress with the happy tidings. lie executed his office, and the impassioned dame was out of her wits with joy, in the delicious prospect of hearing and seeing me in a few hours. A most disagreeable circumstance, however, was very near disappointing her in that hope. I could not leave home before night, and, for my sins, it was dark as pitch. I went groping along the street, and had got, may be, half way, when down from a win- dow came upon my head the contents of a perfuming- pan, which did not tickle my olfactory nerves very pleasantly. I may say that not a whiff was wasted, so exactly had the giver taken measure of the re- ceiver. In this situation I was at a loss on what to resolve : to go back by the way I came, what an ex- hibition before my comrades ! It was surrendering myself to all their nasty witticisms. Then, again, go to Mergelina in such a glorious trim, that hurt my feelings on the other side. I determined, at length, to get on towards the physician's. The old usher was waiting for me at the door. He .said that Doc- tor Oloroso was gone to bed, and we might amuse ourselves as we liked. I answered that the first thing was to purify my drapery, at the same time relating my misfortune. He seemed to feel for me, TEE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. 135 and showed me into a hall where his mistress was sitting. As soon as the lady got wind of my ad- venture, and had confirmed the testimony of her nose by the evidence of her eyes, she mourned over me as grievously as if my miseries had been mortal ; then, apostrophising the absent cause of my foul array, she uttered a thousand imprecations. Well, but, Madam ! said Marcos, do moderate this ecstasy of grief ; con- sider that such casualities will happen ; there is no occasion to take on so bitterly. Why ! exclaimed she with vehemence, why would you debar me from the privilege of weeping over the injuries of this tender lamb, this dove without gall, who does not so much as murmur at the affront he has sustained? Alas ! why am I not a man at this moment to avenge him ! She uttered numberless soothing expressions besides, to mark distinctly the excess of her devo- tion, and her actions corresponded with her words ; for while Marcos was employed in wiping me down with a towel, she ran into her chamber and brought out a box furnished with every variety of perfumes. She burned sweet-smelling drugs, and perfumed my clothes with them, after which she drenched me in a deluge of essences. The fumigation and aspersion ended, this bountiful lady went herself and fetched, From the kitchen, bread, wine, and some good slices of roast mutton, set by on purpose for me. She forced me to eat, and, taking a pleasure in waiting on me, sometimes carved for me, and sometimes filled my glass ? in spite of all that Marcos and myself 186 GIL BLAS. could do to anticipate her condescension. When I had done supper, the gentlemen of the orchestra struck the key-note, and tuned their sweet voices to the pitch of their guitars. We played and sung to the heart's delight of Mergelina. To be sure we took care to carol none but amorous ditties ; and, as we sung, I every now and then leered at her with such a roguish meaning, as to throw oil upon the fire, for the game began to be interesting. The concert, though the acts were long, was not tedious. As for the lady, to whom hours seemed to fly like seconds, she could have been content to exhaust the night in listening, if the old squire, with whom the seconds seemed to lag like hours, had not hinted how late it was. She gave him the trouble of en- forcing his moral on the lapse of time by at least ten repetitions. But she was in the hands of a man not to be turned aside from his purpose ; he let her have no rest till I was gone. Sensible and provident as he was, seeing his mistress given up to a mad pas- sion, he dreaded lest our harmony should be resolved by some discord. His fears w r ere ominous : the physician, whether his mind misgave him of some foul play, or the spirit of jealousy, hitherto on its good behavior, had a mind to harass him gratuitous- ly, bethought himself of quarrelling with our con- certs. He did more, he put a broad negative upon them ; and, without assigning his reasons for acting in this violent way, declared that he would suffer no more strangers to come about his premises. Marcos acquainted me with this mortifying decla- THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. 187 ration, particularly levelled against my rising hopes. I had begun bobbing at this dainty cherry, and did not like to lose my game. Nevertheless, to act the part of a faithful reporter and true historian, I must own my impatience did not affect my health or spirits. Not so with Mergelina, her feelings were more alive than ever. My dear Marcos, said she to her usher, it is only from you that I look for succor. Contrive, I beseech you, that I may see Diego in private. What do you require ? asked the old man, with a reproachful accent. I have been but too indulgent to you. I am not a person to crown your wanton wishes at the expense of my master's honor, your good fame, and my own eternal infamy the infamy of a man whose past life has been one con- tinued series of faithful service and exemplary con- duct. I had rather leave the family than stay in it on such scandalous conditions. Alas ! Marcos, in- terrupted the lady, frightened out of her wits at these last words, you wring my heart by talking in this manner. Obdurate man ! Can you bear the thought of sacrificing her who lays all her present agony to your account? Give me back my former pride, and that savage soul you have taken from me. Why am I no longer happy in my very imperfec- tions? I might now have been at peace, but your rash counsels have robbed me of the repose I then enjoyed. You, the corrector of my manners, have tampered with my morals. . . . But why do I rave, unhappy wretch that 1 am? why upbraid you thus wrongfully? No, my guardian angel, you are not 188 GIL BLAS. the fatal source of all my miseries ; my evil destiny had decreed these tortures to await me. Lay not to heart, I conjure you on my knees, these transports of a disordered imagination. Oh mercy ! my pas- sion drives me mad ; have compassion on my weak- ness ; you are my sole support and stay ; if, then, my life is not indifferent to you, deny me not your aid. At these words, her tears flowed in fresh torrents, and stifled her lugubrious accents. She took out her handkerchief, and, throwing it over her face, fell into a chair, like a person overcome by her affliction. Old Marcos, who was perhaps one of the most tracta- ble go-betweens in the world, could no longer steel his heart against so touching a spectacle. Pierced to the quick, he even mingled his tears with those of his mistress, and spoke to her in a softened tone : Ah ! madam, why are you thus bewitching ! I cannot hold out against your sorrowful complaints ; my virtue yields under the pressure of my pity. I promise you all the relief in my power. No longer do I marvel at the oblivious influence of passion over duty, since mere sympathy can mislead my footsteps from its thorny paths. Thus did this pander, whose past life had been one continued series of faithful service and exemplary conduct, sell himself to the devil to feed Mergelina's illicit flame. One morning he came and talked over the whole business with me, saying, at his departure, that he had a scheme in his head, to bring about a private interview between us. At the thojught, my hopes were all re-kindled ; but they glimmered tremblingly in the socket at a piece JOURXEfUASf BARBER'S STOR?. 6f news I heard two hours afterwards. A journey- man apothecary in the neighborhood, one of our cus- tomers, came in to be shaved. Wliile I was making ready to trim his bushy honors, he said, Master Diego, do you know anything about your friend, the old usher, Marcos de Obregon ? Is not he going to leave Doctor Oloroso? I said, No. But he is, though, replied he ; he will get his dismission this very day. His master and mine were talking about it just now in my hearing, and their conversation was to the following effect : Signer Apuntador, said the physician, I have a favor to beg of you. I am not easy about an old usher of mine, and should like to place my wife under the eye of a trusty, strict, and vigilant duenna. I understand you, in- terrupted my master. You want Dame Melancia, my wife's directress, and indeed mine for the last six weeks, since I have been a widower. Though she would be very useful to me in housewifery, I give her up to you, from a paramount regard to your honor. You may rely upon her for the security of your brow ; she is the phoenix of the duenna tribe a spring-gun and a man-trap set in the purlieus of female chastity. During twelve whole years that she was about my wife, whose youth and beauty, you know, were not without their attractions, I never saw the least semblance of manhood within my doors. No, no ! By all the powers ! That game was not so easily played. And yet I must let you know that the departed saint, Heaven rest her soul ! bad in the outset a great hankering after the delights 1() ML SLis, of the flesh ; but Dame Melancia cast her in a heW mould, and regenerated her to virtue and self-denial. In short, such a guardian of the weaker sex is a treasure, and you will never have done thanking me for my precious gift. Hereupon the doctor expressed his rapture at the issue of the conference ; and they agreed, Signor Apuntador and he, on the duenna's succeeding the old usher on this very day. This news, which I thought probable, and turned out to be true, disturbed the pleasurable ideas, just beginning to flow afresh, and renovate my soul. After dinner, Marcos completed the convulsion, by confirming the young drug-pounder's story : My dear Diego, said the good squire, I am heartily glad that Doctor Oloroso has turned me off; it spares me a world of trouble. Besides that it hurt my feelings to be invested with the office of a spy, endless must have been the shifts and subterfuges to bring you and Mergelina together in private. We should have been rarely gravelled ! Thanks to Heaven, I am set free from all such perplexing cares, to say nothing of their attendant danger. On your part, my dear boy, you ought to be comforted for the loss of a few soft moments, which must have been dogged at the heels by a thousand fears and vexations. I relished Marcos' sermon well enough, because my hopes were at an end the game was lost. I was not, it must be confessed, among the number of those stubborn lovers who bear up against every impediment ; but though I had been so, Dame Melancia would have made me let go my hold. The established character JOURNEYMAN BARBERS sfoR?. bf that duenna would have daunted the adventurous spirit of a knight-errant. Yet, in whatever colors this phoenix of the duenna tribe might have been painted, I had reason to know, two or three days afterwards, that the physician's lady had unset the man-trap and spring-gun, and given a stop to this watch-dog of lubricity. As I was going out to shave one of our neighbors, a civil old gentlewoman stopped me in the street, and asked me if my name was Diego de la Fuenta. I said, Yes. That being the case, replied she, I have a little business with you. Place yourself this evening at Donna Mergelina's door ; and when you are there, give a signal, and you shall be let in. Vastly well ! said I, what must the signal be ! I can take off a cat to the life : sup- pose I was to mew a certain number of times ! The very thing, replied this Iris of intrigue ; I will carry back your answer. Your most obedient, Signor Diego ! Heaven protect the sweet youth ! Ah ! you are a pretty one ! By St. Anges, I wish I was but sweet fifteen, I would not go to market for other folks ! With this hint, the old procuress waddled out of sight. You may be sure this message put me in no small flutter. Where now was the morality of Marcos ? I waited for night with impatience, and, calculating the time of Doctor Oloroso's going to bed, took my station at his door. There I set up my caterwaul- ing, till you might hear me ever so far off, to the eternal honor of the master who instructed me in that imitative art. A moment after, Mergelina 192 6 opened the door softly with her own dear hands, and shut it again with me on the inside. We went into the hall, where our last concert had been per- formed. It was dimly lighted by a small lamp, which twinkled in the chimney. We sat down side by side, and began our tender parley, each of us overcome by our emotions, but with this difference, that hers were all inspired by pleasure, while mine were somewhat tainted by fear. In vain did the divinity of my adorations assure me that we had nothing to fear from her husband. I felt the access of an ague, which unmanned my vigor. Madam, said I, how have you eluded the vigilance of your directress ? After what I have heard of Dame Me- lancia, I could not have conceived it possible for you to contrive the means of sending me any intelli- gence, much less of seeing me in private. Donna Mergelina smiled at this remark, and answered : You will no longer be surprised at our being to- gether to-night, when I tell you what has passed between my duenna and me. As soon as she came to her place, my husband paid her a thousand com- pliments, and said to me : Mergelina, I consign you to the guidance of this wary lady, herself an abstract of all the virtues : in this glass you may look with- out a blush, and array yourself in habits of wisdom. This extraordinary personage has for these twelve years been a light to the ways of an apothecary's wife of my acquaintance ; but how has she been a light to them ? . . . why, as ways never were en- lightened before : she turned a very slippery piece of mortal flesh into a downright nun. JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. This panegyric, not belied by the austere mien of Dame Melancia, cost me a flood of tears, and re- duced me to despair. I fancied the din of eternal lectures from morning till night, and daily rebukes too harsh to be endured. In short, I laid my ac- count in a life of wretchedness, beyond the patience of a woman. Keeping no measures in the expecta- tion of such cruel sufferings, I said bluntly to the duenna, the moment I was alone with her : You mean, no doubt, to exercise your tyranny most wan- tonly on my poor person ; but I cannot bear much severity, I warn you beforehand. I give you, more- over, fair notice, that I shall be as savage as you can be. My heart cherishes a passion, which not all your remonstrances shall tear from it : so }'ou may act accordingly. Watch me as closely as you please ; it is hard if I cannot outwit such an old thing as you. At these taunting words, I thought this sara- cen in petticoats was going to give me a specimen of her discipline. But, so far from it, she smoothed her brow, relaxed her surly features, and, primming up her mouth into a smile, promulgated this com- fortable doctrine : Your temper charms me, and your frankness calls for a return. We must have been made for one another. Ah ! lovely Mergelina, little do you fathom my character, to be deceived by the fine compliments of your husband the Doctor, or by my Tartar contour ! There was never a creature more fortified against moral prejudices ! My induce- ment for getting into the service of jealous husbands is to lend myself to the enjoyments of their pretty VOL. I. 13 194 GIL wives. Long have I trodden the stage of life in masquerade ; and I may call myself doubly happy, in the spiritual rewards of virtue, and the temporal indulgences of the opposite side. Between our- selves, mine is the system of all mankind in the long run. Real virtue is a very expensive article : plated goods look just as well, and are within the reach of all purchasers. Put yourself under my direction. We will make Doctor Oloroso pay the piper to our dancing, or I am no duenna. By my troth, he shall go the way of Signor Apuntador and all mankind. There is no reason why the forehead of a physician should be smoother than the brow of an apothecary. Poor dear Apuntador ! What fun have we had with him, his wife and I ! A charming woman, that wife of his ! A dear little creature, open to all mankind, and prejudiced by none ! Well ! she is at peace, and has not left her fellow behind her ! Take my word, short as her time was, she made the most of it. Let me see how many rampant chaps have been brought to their bearings in that house, without the dear, deluded husband being waked out of his even- ing's nap ! Now, madam, you may see me in my true light ; and assure yourself, whatever might be the abilities of your old usher, you will not fare the worse for going further. If he was a benefit to you, I shall be a blessing. You may judge for yourself, Diego, continued Mergelina, how well I took it of the duenna, that she laid herself open so frankly. I had taken her THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. 105 virtue to be of the impenetrable cast. Look you, now, how much women are liable to be scandalized. But her character of plain dealing won my heart at once. I threw my arms about her neck in a rapture, which bespoke my warm and tender feelings at the thoughts of such a mother-abbess. I gave her carte blanche of all my private thoughts, and put in for a speedy tete-a-tete with your own dear self. She met me on my own ground. This very morning she engaged the old woman who spoke to you to take the field : she is an old stager a veteran in the ser- vice of the apothecary's wife. But the best of the joke in this comedy, added she, in a paroxysm of laughter, is that Melancia, on my assurance that my husband's habit is to pass the night without stirring, is gone to bed by his side, and drones out my useless office at this moment. So much the worse, madam, said I then to Mergelina ; your device is more plausi- ble than profitable. Your husband is very likely to wake, and discover the fraud. lie will not discover anything about it, replied she with no little urgency ; set your heart at rest about that, and let not an empty fear poison the fountains of a pleasure which ouglfct to drown every vulgar and earthly consideration in the arms of a young lady who is yours forever and ever. The old doctor's help-mate, finding that her assur- ances had little effect upon my courage, left no stone unturned to put me in heart again ; and she had so many encouraging ways with her, that a very coward must have plucked up a little. My thoughts were all with Jupiter and Alcmena ; but at the very mo- 67/, SLAS. ment that the urchin Cupid, with his train of smiles and antics, was weaving a garland to compliment the crisis of our endeavors, we were stopped in our career by an importunate knocking at the street door. In a moment, away flew love, and all his covey, like game at the report of a fowling-piece. Mergelina popped me, like an article of household furniture, under the hall table, blew out the lamp, and, by previous agreement with her governess, in the event of so unlucky an accident, placed herself at the door of her husband's bedchamber. In the meantime, the knocking continued with reiterated violence, till the whole house resounded. The physician awoke suddenly, and called Melancia. The duenna flung herself out of bed, though the doctor, taking her for his wife, begged of her not to disturb herself. She ran to her mistress, who, catching hold of her in the dark, began calling Melancia ! and told her to go and see who was at the door. Madam, answered the directress, here I am at your service, go to bed again if you please ; we shall soon know who it is. During this parley, Mergelina, having undressed, got into bed to the doctor, who had not the least sus- picion of the farce that Avas playing. To be sure the stage was darkened, and the actresses had very little occasion for a prompter ; one of them was familiar with the boards, and the other only wanted a re- hearsal or two to be perfect in her part. The duenna, in her night gown, made her appear- ance soon after, with a candle in her hand. Good doctor, said she to her master, have the goodness to THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. 197 get up. Our neighbor Fernandez de Buendia, the bookseller, is in an apoplectic fit : you are sent for ; time presses. The physician got on his clothes as fast as he oould, and went out. His wife, in her bed gown, came into the hall with the duenna. They dragged me from under the table more dead than alive. You have nothing to fear, Diego, said Mergelina ; put yourself in proper order. At the same time she told me how things were in two words. She had half a mind to renew our amorous intercourse ; but the directress knew better. Madam, said she, your husband may possibly be too late to help the bookseller to the other world, and then he will return immediately. Besides, added she, ob- serving me benumbed with fright, it would be all lost labor upon this poor youth ! He is not in a condition to answer your demands. You had better send him home, and defer the debate till to-morrow evening. Donna Mergelina was sorry for the delay, as well knowing that a bird in hand is worth two in the bush ; and I flatter myself she was disappointed at not putting a cuckold's nightcap on the doctor's head. As for me, less grieved at having drawn a blank in the lottery of love, than rejoiced at getting my neck out of an halter, I returned to my master's, where I passed the remainder of the night in moral- izing on the scene I had left. For some time, I was in doubt whether to keep my appointment on the following evening. I thought it was a foolish busi- ness from first to last; but the devil, who is always lurking for his prey, or rather taking possession of 198 GIL BL AS- us as his lawful property, whispered in my ear that I should be a great fool to pack up my alls when the prize was falling into my hands. Mergelina, too, with opening and unfathomable charms ! The ex- quisite pleasures that awaited me ! I determined to stick to my text ; and promising myself a larger share of self-possession, took my station the next evening, at the doctor's door, between eleven and twelve, in a most spirit-stirring humor. The heavens were completely darkened not a star to prate of my whereabout. I mewed twice or thrice to give warning of my being in the street ; and, as no one answered my signal, I was not satisfied with going over the old ground, but ran up and down the cat's gamut from bass to treble, and from treble to bass, just as I used to sol-fa with a shepherd of Olmedo. I tuned my fundamental bass so musically, that a neighbor on his return home, taking me for one of those animals whose mewings I counterfeited, picked up an unlucky flint lying at his feet, and threw it at me with all his force, saying, The devil fetch that torn cat ! I received the blow on my head, and was so stunned for the moment, that I was very near falling backwards. I found the skin was broken. This was enough in all conscience to give me a surfeit of gallantry ; so that, my passion oozing out with my blood, I made the best of my way homewards, where I rendered night hideous by my howling, and knocked all the family up. My master probed my wound, and played the true sur- geon on it ; he pronounced the consequences to be THEY MEET WITH A STROLLING PLAYER. 199 uncertain. He did all he could to make them cer- tain ; but flesh will heal in spite of the faculty ; and there was not a scar remaining in three weeks. Dur- ing all this time, I heard not a word from Mergelina. The probability is that Dame Melancia, to wean her impure thoughts from me, engaged her in some bet- ter sport. However, I did not concern myself about the matter ; but left Madrid, to continue my tour of Spain, as soon as I found myself perfectly recovered. CHAPTER VIII. THE MEETING OF GIL BIAS AND HIS COMPANION WITH A MAN SOAKING CRUSTS OF BREAD AT A SPRING, AND THE PARTICULARS OF THEIR CONVERSATION. SIGNOR DIEGO DE LA FUENTA related some other adventures which had since happened to him ; but they were so little worthy of preservation, that I shall pass them by in silence. Yet there was no getting rid of the recital, which was tedious enough : it lasted as far as Ponte de Duero. We halted in that town the remainder of the day. Our commons at the bin consisted of a vegetable soup, and a roast hare, whose genus and species we took especial pains to verify. At daybreak on the following morning we resumed our journey, after having replenished our flask with some very tolerable wine, and our wallet with some pieces of bread, and half the hare 200 GIL BLAS. we had left for supper. When we had gone about two leagues, we waxed hungry ; and, espying, at about two hundred yards from the high road, some spreading trees which threw an agreeable shade over the plain, we made up to the spot, and rested on our arms. There we met with a man from seven to eight and twenty, who was dipping crusts of bread into a spring. He had a long sword lying by nim on the grass, with a soldier's knapsack, of which he had eased his shoulders. We thought his air and person better than his attire. We accosted him with civility, and he returned our salutation. He then offered us his crusts, and asked, Avith a smile, if we would take pot- luck with him. We answered in the affirmative, provided he had no objection to our club- bing our own breakfast, by way of making the meal more substantial. He agreed to it with the ut- most readiness, and we immediately produced our provisions, which were not unacceptable to the stranger. What is all this, gentlemen, exclaimed he, in a transport of joy ; here is ammunition for an army ! By your forecast, you must be com- missaries or quartermasters. I do not travel with so much contrivance, for my part ; but depend a good deal on the chances of the road. At the same time, though appearances may be against me, I can say, without vanity, that I sometimes make a very brilliant figure in the world. Would you believe that princely honors are commonly bestowed on me, and that I have guards in attendance ? I compre- hend you, said Diego ; you mean to tell us, you are CONVERSATION WITH A STROLLING PLAYER. 201 a player. You guess right, replied the other; I have been an actor for these fifteen years at least. From my very infancy, I was sent on the boards in children's parts. To deal freely, rejoined the bar- ber, shaking his head, I do not believe a word of it. I know the players ; those gentry do not travel on foot, like you, nor do they mess with St. Anthony. I doubt whether you are anything better than a can- dle-snuffer. You may, quoth the son of Thespis. think of me as you please ; but my parts, for all that, are in the first line : I play the lovers. If that be the* case, said my companion, I wish you much joy, and am delighted that Signer Gil Bias and my- self have the honor of breakfasting with so eminent a character. We then began to pick up our crumbs, and to gnaw the precious relics of the hare, bestowing such hearty smacks upon the bottle, as to empty it very shortly. We were all three so deeply engaged in the great affair of eating, that we said very little till we had finished, when we resumed our conversation. I wonder, said the barber to the player, that you should be so much out at elbows. For a theatrical hero, you have but a needy exterior ! I beg pardon if I speak rather freely. Rather freely ! exclaimed the actor ; ah ! by my troth, you are not yet ac- quainted with Melchior Zapata. Heaven be praised ! I have no mind to see things in a wrong light. You do me a pleasure by speaking so confidently, for I love to unbosom myself without reserve. I honestly own I am not rich. Here, pursued he, showing ua 202 OIL SLAS. his doublet lined with playbills, this is the common stuff which serves me for linings; and if you are curious to see my wardrobe, you shall not be dis- appointed. At the same time he took out of his knapsack a dress, laced with tarnished frippery ; a shabby head-dress for a hero, with an old plume of feathers ; silk stockings full of holes ; and red mo- rocco shoes, a great deal the worse for wear. You see, said he again, that I am very little better than a beggar. That is astonishing, replied Diego ; then you have neither wife nor daughter ? I have a very handsome young wife, rejoined Zapata, and yet I might just as well be without her. Look with awe on the lowering aspect of my horoscope. I married a per- sonable actress, in the hope that she would not let me die of hunger ; and, to my cost, she is cursed with incorruptible chastity. Who the devil would not have been taken in as well as myself? There was but one virtuous princess in a whole strolling company, and she, plague take her ! fell into my hands. It was throwing with bad luck most un- doubtedly, said the barber. But then, why did not you look out for an actress in the regular theatre at Madrid ? You would have been sure of your mark. You are perfectly in the right, replied the stroller ; but the mischief is, we underlings dare not raise our thoughts to those illustrious heroines. It is as much as an actor of the prince's company can venture on ,- nay, some of them are obliged to match with citizens' daughters. Happily for our fraternity, citizens' daughters, nowadays, contract theatrical notions \ CONVERSATION WITH A STROLLING PLAYER. 203 and you may often meet with characters among them, to the full as eccentric as any bona roba of the green-room. Well ! but have you never thought, said my fel- low traveller, of getting an engagement in that com- pany ? Is it necessary to be a Roscius for that pur- pose ? That is very well of you ! replied Melchior, you are a wag, with your Roscius ! There are twenty performers. Ask the town what it thinks of them, and you will hear a pretty character of their acting. More than half of them deserve to carry a porter's knot. Yet, for all that, it is no easy matter to get upon the boards. Bribery or interest must make up for the defect of talent. I ought to know what I say, since my debut at Madrid, where I was hissed and cat-called as if the devil had got among the grimalkins, though I ought to have been received with thunders of applause ; for I whined, ranted, and offered all sorts of violence to nature's modesty : nay, I went so far as to clench my fist at the heroine of the piece ; in a word, I adopted the conceptions of all the great performers ; and yet that same audience condemned, by bell, book, and candle, in me, what was thought to be the first style of playing in them. Such is the force of prejudice ! So that, being no favorite with the pit, and not having where- withal to insinuate myself into the good graces of the manager, I am on my return to Zamora.- There we shall all huddle together again, my wife and my fellow-comedians, who are making but little of the business, I wish we may not be obliged to beg our 204 GIL BLAS. way out of town a catastrophe of too freqent ocs currence ! At these words, up rose the stage-struck hero, slung across him his knapsack and his sword, and made his exit with due theatric pomp : Farewell, gentlemen ; may all the gods shower all their bounties on your heads ! And you, answered Diego with corresponding emphasis, may you find your wife at Zamora, softened down in her relentless virtue, and , in comfortable keeping. No sooner had Signor Zapata turned upon his heel, than he began gesticu- lating and spouting as he went along. The barber and myself immediately began hissing, to remind him of his first appearance at Madrid. The goose grated harsh upon his tympanum ; he took it for a repetition of signals from his old friends. But, look- ing behind him, and seeing that we were diverting ourselves at his expense, far from taking offence at this merry conceit of ours, he joined with good humor in the joke, and went his way, laughing as hard as he could. On our part, we returned the compliment in kind. After this, we got again into the high road, and pursued our journey. THEY ARRIVE AT OLMEDO. CHAPTER IX. THE MEETING OF DIEGO WITH HIS FAMILY; THEIR CIRCUM- STANCES IN LIFE; GREAT REJOICING ON THE OCCASION; THE PARTING SCENE BETWEEN HIM AND GIL BLAS. WE stopped for the night at a little village be- tween Moyados and Valpuesta ; I have forgotten the name : and the next morning, about eleven, we reached the plain of Olme'do. Signor Gil Bias, said my companion, behold my native place. So natural are these local attachments, that I can hardly contain myself at the sight of it. Signor Diego, answered I, a man of so patriotic a soul as you pro- fess to be, might, methinks, have been a little more florid in his descriptions. Olnie'do looks like a city at this distance, and you called it a village ; it can- not be any thing less than a corporate town. I beg its township's pardon, replied the barber ; but you are to know that after Madrid, Toledo, Saragossa, and all the other large cities I have passed through in my tour of Spain, these little ones are mere vil- lages to me. As we got further on the plain, there appeared to be a great concourse of people about Olmedo : so that, when we were near enough to distinguish objects, we were in no want of food for speculation. There were three tents pitched at some distance from each other ; and, hard-by, a bevy of cooks and scullions preparing an entertainment. Here, a party was laying covers on long tables set out under the tents ; there, a detachment was crowning the pitch- ers of Tellus with the gifts of Bacchus. The right wing was making the pots boil, the left was turning the spits and basting the meat. But what caught my attention more than all the rest, was a tempo- rary stage of respectable dimensions. It was fur- nished with pasteboard scenes, painted in a tawdry style, and the proscenium was decorated with Greek and Latin mottoes. No sooner did the barber spy out these inscriptions, than he said to me : All these Greek words smell strongly of my uncle Thomas's lamp. I would lay a wager he has a hand in them, for, between ourselves, he is a man of parts and learning. He knows all the classics by heart. If he would keep them to himself it would be very well , but he is always quoting them in com- pany, and that people do not like. But then, to be sure, he has a right, because this uncle of mine has translated ever so many of the Latin poets and hard Greek authors with his own hand and pen. Pie has got all antiquity at his finger's ends, as you may know by his ingenious and profound criticisms. If it had not been for him, we might never have learned that the Athenian schoolboys cried when they were flogged ; we owe that fact in the history of educa- tion to his fundamental knowledge of the subject. After my fellow-traveller and myself had looked about us, we had a mind to inquire what these prepa- rations were for. Going about on the hunt, Diego recognized in the manager, Signor Thomas de la DIEGO IS WELCOMED HOME. 207 Fuenta, to whom we made up with great eagerness. The schoolmaster did not recollect the young barber at first, such a difference had ten years made. But when convinced of his being his own flesh and blood, he gave him a cordial embrace, and said, with much appearance of kindness, Ah! here you are, Diego, my dear nephew, here you are, restored after your wanderings to your native land. You come to revisit your household gods, your Penates ; and heaven delivers you back, safe and sound, into the bosom of your family. O, happy day ! happy in all the proportions of arithmetic ! A day worthy to be marked with a white stone, and inserted among the Fasti ! We have annals in abundance for you, my friend ; your uncle Pedro, the poetaster, has fallen a sacrifice at the shrine of Pluto : to speak to the comprehension of the vulgar, he has been dead these three months. That miser, in his lifetime, was afraid of wanting necessaries Argenti pnllebat amore. Though the great were heaping wealth upon his head, his annual expenditure did not amount to ten pistoles. He had but one miserable attendant, and him he starved. This crazy fellow, more wrong- headed than the Grecian Aristippus, who ordered his slaves to leave all their costly baggage in the heart of Lybia, as an incumbrance on their march, heaped up all the gold and silver he could scrape together. And to what end? for those very heirs whom he refused to acknowledge. He died worth thirty thousand ducats, shared between your father, your uncle Bertrand, and myself. We shall be able 208 GIL BLAS. to do very well for our children. My brother Nich- olas has already married off your sister Theresa to the son of a magistrate in this place Connubio junxit stabili propriamque dicavit. These very hymeneals, greeted auspiciously by all the nuptial powers, have we been celebrating for these two days with all this pomp and luxury. These tents in the plain are of our pitching. Pedro's three heirs have each a booth of his own, and we defray the expenses of the day alternately. I wish you had come sooner, you might have seen the whole progress of our fes- tivities. The day before yesterday the wedding- day your father gave his treat. It was a superb entertainment, succeeded by running at the ring. Your uncle, the mercer, regaled us, yesterday, with a fete champetre, and paid the piper handsomely. There were ten of the best grown boys, and ten young girls, dressed put in pastoral weeds ; all the frippery in his shop was brought out to prank them up. This assemblage of Ganymedes and Houris ran through all the mazes of the dance, and warbled forth a thousand tender and spirit-stirring lays. And yet, though nothing was ever more genteel, the effect was not thought striking ; but that must be owing to the bad taste of the spectators the simplicity of pastoral is lost upon the present age. To-day, the wheels are greased by your humble servant, and I mean to present the burgesses of Ol- me'do with a pageant of my own invention Finis coronabit opus. I have got a stage erected, on which, God willing, shall be represented by my CONVERSATION WITlt THE SCHOOLMASTER. scholars a piece of my own composing, entitled and called, The Amusements of Muley Bugentuf, King of Morocco. It will be played to perfec- tion, for my pupils declaim like the players of Madrid. They are lads of family at Penafiel and Segovia, boarders with me. They know how to touch the passions ! To be sure they have rehearsed under my tuition ; their emphasis will seem as if struck in the mint of their master ut ita dicam. With respect to the piece I shall not ay a word about it you shall be taken by surprise. I shall simply state that it must produce a deep impression on the audience. It is one of those tragic subjects which harrow up the soul, by images of death pre- sented to the senses in all their fearful forms. I am of Aristotle's mind, terror is a principal engine. O ! if I had written for the stage, I would have intro- duced none but bloody tyrants, and death-dispensing heroes. Not all the perfumes of Arabia should have sweetened this blood-polluted hand ; I would have been up to my elbows in gore. There would have been tragedy with a vengeance ; principal characters ! ay, guards and attendants should all have been sprawling together. I would have butch- ered every man of them, and the prompter into the bargain. In a word, I refine upon Aristotle, and border on the horrible that is my taste. These plays to tear a cat in, arc the only things for popu- larity ; the actors live merrily on their own dying speeches, and the authors roll in luxury on the devastation of mankind. TOL. i. 14 210 GIL BIAS. Just as this harangue was over, we saw a great crowd of both sexes coining out of town into the plain. Who should it be, but the new-married couple, attended by their families and friends, with ten or twelve musicians in the van, producing a most obstreperous din of harmony. We went up to them, and Diego introduced himself. Peals of con- gratulation were immediately rung through the assembly, and every one was eager to shake him by the hand. lie had enough upon his shoulders to receive all their fraternal embraces. Relations and strangers, all were for having a pull at him. At length his father said, You are welcome, Diego. You find your kinsmen living upon the fat of the land, my friend. I shall say no more at present : a nod is as good as a wink. Meanwhile the company went forward upon the plain, took their stations under the tents, and sat down to table. I kept close to my companion, and we both dined Avith the happy couple, who appeared to be suitably matched. The meal was not soon over, for the schoolmaster had the vanity to give three courses, for the purpose of cutting out his brothers, who had not been so magnificent in their hospitalities. After the banquet, all the guests expressed their longings to see Signor Thomas's play, not doubting but the performance of so extraordinary a genius would deserve all their ears. We came in front of the stage ; the musicians had taken possession of the orchestra, for the overture and act-tunes. While every one was waiting in profound silence for the DESCRIPTION OF THE PLAY. tising of the curtain, the actors appeared on the boards ; and the author, with the piece in his hand, sat down at the wing, in the prompter's place. Well might he call it a tragedy ; for, in the first act, the King of Morocco, by way of diversion, shot an hundred Moorish slaves with arrows ; in the second, he beheaded thirty Portuguese officers, taken pris- oners by one of his captains ; and, in the third and last, this monarch, surfeited with long-indulged lib- ertinism, set fire with his own hands to the seraglio where his wives were confined, and reduced it to ashes with its inhabitants. The Moorish slaves, as well as the Portuguese officers, were puppets on a very curious construction ; and the palace, built of pasteboard, looked very naturally in flames by means of an artificial firework. This conflagration, accompanied by a thousand piercing cries, issuing from the ruins, concluded the piece, and the curtain dropped upon this amiable entertainment. The whole plain resounded with the applause of this fine tragedy ; which spoke for the good taste of the poet, and proved that he knew where to look out for a subject. I did not suppose there was any thing more to be seen after The Amusements of Muley Bugentuf; but I was mistaken. Kettle-drums and trumpets announced a new exhibition the distribution of prizes for Thomas de la Fuenta, to give additional solemnity to his Olympics, had made all his boys, as well day-scholars as boarders, write exercises ; and on tlus occasion he was to give to those who had GIL SLAS. succeeded best, books bought at Segovia out of his own pocket^ All at once were brought upon the stage two long forms out of the school, with a press, full of old, worm-eaten books, in fine, new bindings. At this signal , all the actors returned upon the stage, and took their places round Signor Thomas, who looked as big as the head of a college. He had a sheet of paper in his hand, with the names of the successful candidates. This he gave to the King of Morocco, who began calling over the list with an authoritative voice. Each scholar, answering to his name, went humbly to receive a book from the hands of the bum-jerker ; after this, he was crowned with laurel, and seated on one of the two benches, to be exposed to the gaze of the admiring company. Yet, desirous as the schoolmaster might be to send the spectators away in good humor, he brought his eggs to a bad market ; for, having distributed almost all the prizes to the boarders, according to the usual etiquette of pedagogues, that those who pay most must necessarily be the cleverest fellows, the mam- mas of certain day-scholars caught fire at this in- stance of partiality, and fell foul of the disciplinarian thereupon : so that the festival, hitherto so much to the glory of the donor, seemed likely to have ended to the same tune as the carousal of the Lapithas. ARRIVAL OF GIL BLAS AT MADRID, 213 BOOK THE THIRD. CHAPTER I. THE ARRIVAL OF GIL BLAS AT MADRID. HIS FIRST PLACE THERE. I MADE some stay with the young barber. At my departure, I met with a traveller of Segovia passing through Olme'do. He was returning with four mules from a trading expedition to Valladolid, and took me by way of back carriage. We got acquainted on the road, and he took such a fancy to me that nothing would serve him but I must be his guest at Segovia. He gave me free quarters for two days, and, when he found me determined to leave him for Madrid under convoy of a muleteer, he troubled me with a letter, begging me to deliver it in person according to the superscription, without hinting that it was a letter of recommendation. I was punctual in calling on Signor Matheo Melendez. He was a woollen-draper, living at the gate of the Sun, at the corner of Trunkmaker street. Xo sooner had he broken the cover and read the contents, than lie said, with an air of complacency, Signor (iil Bias, my correspondent, Pedro Palacio, has written to me so pressingly in your favor, that I cannot do otherwise 214 GIL BIAS. th'an offer you a bed at my house ; moreover, he de- sires me to find you a good master, and I undertake the commission with pleasure. I have no doubt of suiting you to a hair. I embraced the offer of Melendez the more grate- fully because my funds were getting much below par ; but I was not long a burden on his hospitality. At the week's end, he told me that he had mentioned my name to a gentleman of his acquaintance, who wanted a valet-de-chambre, and, according to present appearances, the place would not be long vacant. In fact, this gentleman happened to make his ap- pearance in the very nick. Sir, said Melendez, pushing me forward, you see before you the young man as by former advice. He is a pupil of honor and integrity. I can answer for him as if he was one of my own family. The gentleman looked at me with attention, said that my face was in my favor, and hired me at once. He has nothing to do but to follow me, added he ; I will put him into the routine of his employment. At these words, he wished the tradesman good morning, and took me into the High-street, directly over against St. Philip's church. We went into a very handsome house, of which he occupied one wing ; then going up five or six steps, he took me into a room secured by strong double doors, with an iron grate between. From this room we went into another, with a bed and other furniture, rather neat than gaudy. If my new master had examined me closely, I had all my wits about me as well as he. He was a man GIL BLAS IS PLEASED WITH HIS SITUATION-. 215 on the wrong side of fifty, with a saturnine and serious air. His temper seemed to be even, and I thought no harm of him. He asked me several questions about my family ; and, liking my answers, Gil Bias, said he, I take you to be a very sensible lad, and am well pleased to have you in my ser- vice. On your part you shall have no reason to complain. I will give you six rials a day board wages, besides vails. Then I require no great at* tendance, for I keep no table, but always dine out. You will only have to brush my clothes, and be your own master for the rest of the day. Only take care to be at home early in the evening, and to be in waiting at the door that is your chief duty. After this lecture, he took six rials out of his purse, and gave them to me as earnest. We then went out, he locked the doors after him, and, taking care of the keys, My friend, said he, you need not go with me, follow the devices of your own heart ; but on my return this evening, let me find you on that staircase. With this injunction, he left me to dis- pose of myself as seemed best in my own eyes. In good sooth, Gil Bias, said I in a soliloquy, you have got a jewel of a master. What ! fall in with an employer to give you six rials a day for wiping off the dust from his clothes, and putting his room to rights in the morning, with the liberty of walking about and taking your pleasure like a schoolboy in the holidays ! By my troth ! it is a place of ten thousand. No wonder I was in a hurry to get to Madrid, it was doubtless some mysterious boding of 216 GIL BLAS. good fortune prepared for me. I spent the day in the streets, diverting myself with gaping at novelties a busy occupation. In the evening, after supping at an ordinary not far from our house, I squatted my- self down in the corner pointed out by my master. He came three quarters of an hour after me, and seemed pleased with my punctuality. Very well, said he, this is right, I like attentive servants. At these words, he opened the doors of his apartment, and closed them upon us again as soon as we got in. As we had no candle, he took his tinder-box, and struck a light. I then helped him to undress. When he was in bed, I lighted, by his order, a lamp in his chimney, and carried the wax-light into the antechamber, where I lay in a press-bed without curtains. He got up the next day between nine and ten o'clock ; I brushed his clothes. He paid me my six rials, and sent me packing till the evening. My mysterious master went out himself, too, not without great caution in fastening the doors, and we parted for the remainder of the day. Such was the course of life, very agreeable to me. The best of the joke was, that I did not know my master's name. Melendcz did not know it himself. The gentleman came to his shop now and then, and bought a piece of cloth. My neighbors were as much at a loss as myself; they all assured me that my master was a perfect stranger, though he had lived two years in the ward. He visited no soul in the neighborhood, and some of them, a little given to scandal, concluded him to be no better than he SIS MASTER SUPPOSED TO BE A SPY. 217 should be. Suspicions got to be more rife ; he was suspected of being a spy of Portugal, and it was thought but fair play to give a hint for my own good. This intimation troubled me. Thought I to myself, should this turn out to be a fact, I stand a chance for seeing the inside of a prison at Madrid. My inno- cence will be no security ; my past ill-usage makes me look on justice with antipathy. Twice have I experienced that if the innocent are not condemned in a lump with the guilty, at least the rights of hos- pitality are too little regarded in their persons to make it pleasant to pass a summer in the purlieus of the law. I consulted Melendez in so delicate a conjuncture. He was at a loss how to advise me. Though he could not bring himself to believe that my master was a spy, he had no reason to be confident on the other side of the question. I determined to watch my employer, and to leave him if he turned out to be an enemy of the state ; but then prudence and personal comfort required me to be certain of my fact. I began, therefore, to pry into his actions ; and, to sound him, Sir, said I one evening while he was undressing, I do not know how one ought to live so as to be secure from reflections. The world is very scurrilous ! ^Ve, among others, have neighbors not worth a curse. Sad dogs ! You have no notion how they talk of us. Do they indeed, Gil Bias, quoth he. Be it so ! but what can they say of us, my friend? Ah ! truly, replied I, evil tongues never want a whet. Virtue herself furnishes weapons for 218 GIL BLAS. her own martyrdom. Our neighbors say that we are dangerous people, that we ought to be looked after by government ; in a word, you are taken for a spy of Portugal. In throwing out this hint, I looked hard at my master, just as Alexander squinted at his physician, and pursed up all my penetration to remark upon the effect of my intelligence. There seemed to be a hitch in the muscles of my mysteri' ous lord, altogether in unison with the suspicions of the neighborhood, and he fell into a brown study, which bore no very auspicious interpretation. How- ever, he put a better face on the matter, and said, with sufficient composure : Gil Bias, leave our neighbors to discourse as they please, but let not our repose depend on their judgments. Never mind what they think of us, provided our own consciences do not wince. Hereupon he went to bed, and I did the like, with- out knowing what course to take. The next day, just as we were on the point of going out in the morning, we heard a violent knocking at the outer door on the staircase. My master opened the inner, and looked through the grate. A well-dressed man said to him : Please your honor, I am an alguazil, come to inform you that Mr. Corregidor wishes to speak a word with you. What does he want? an- swered my pattern of secrecy. That is more than I know, sir, replied the alguazil ; but you have only to go and wait on him ; you will soon be informed. I am his most obedient, quoth my master ; I have no business with him. At the tail of this speech, he DON BERNARD HAS A VISITOR. 219 banged the inner door ; then, after walking up and down a little while, like one who pondered on the discourse of the alguazil, he put my six rials into my hand, and said : Gil Bias, you may go out, my friend ; for my part, I shall stay at home a little longer, but have no occasion for you. He made an impression on my mind, by these words, that he was afraid of being taken up, and was, therefore, obliged to remain in his apartments. I left him there ; and, to see how far my suspicions were founded, hid my- self in a place whence I could see if he went out. I should have had patience to have staid there all the morning, if he had not saved me the trouble. But an hour after, I saw him walk the street with an ease and confidence which dumb-founded my saga- city. Yet far from yielding to these appearances, I mistrusted them ; for my verdict went to condemna- tion. I considered his easy carriage as put on, and his staying at home as a finesse to secure his gold and jewels, when probably he was going to consult his safety by speedy flight. I had no idea of seeing him again, and doubted whether I should attend at his door in the evening ; so persuaded was I, that the day would see him on the outside of the city, as his only refuge from impending danger. Yet I kept my appointment ; when, to my extreme surprise, my master returned as usual. He went to bed without betraying the least uneasiness, and got up the next morning with the same composure. Just as he had finished dressing, another knock at the door | My master looked through the grate, 220 GIL BLAS. His friend the alguazil was there again, and he asked him what he wanted. Open the door, answered the alguazil ; here is Mr. Corregidor. At this dreadful name, my blood froze in my veins. I had a devilish loathing of those gentry since I had passed through their hands, and could have wished myself at that moment an hundred leagues from Madrid. As for my employer, less startled than myself, he opened the door, and received the magistrate respectfully. You see, said the corregidor, that I do not break in upon you with a whole posse : my maxim is to do business in a quiet way. In spite of the ugly re- ports circulated about you in the city, I think you deserve some little attention. What is your name, and business at Madrid? Sir, answered my master,. I am from New Castile, and my title is Don Bernard de Castil Blazo. With respect to my way of life, I lounge about, frequent public places, and take my daily pleasure in a select circle of polite company. Of course you have a handsome fortune ! replied the judge. No, sir, interrupted my Mecenas ; I have neither annuities, nor lands, nor houses. How do you live then ? rejoined the corregidor. I will show you, replied Don Bernard. At the same time he lifted up a part of the hangings, before a door I had not observed, opened that and one beyond, then took the magistrate into a closet containing a large chest chuck-full of gold. Sir, said he, again, you know that the Spaniards are proverbially indolent ; yet, whatever may be their general dislike to labor, I may compliment myself oij, DON BERNARD MAkES A DISCLOSURE. bettering the example. I have a stock of laziness, which disqualifies me for all exertion. If I had a mind to puff my vices into virtues, I might call this sloth of mine a philosophical indifference, the work of a mind weaned from all that worldlings court with so much ardor ; but I will frankly own myself con- stitutionally lazy, and so lazy, that, rather than work for my subsistence, I would lay myself down and starve. Therefore, to lead a life befitting my fancy, not to have the trouble of looking after my affairs, and, above all, to do without a steward, I have con- verted all my patrimony, consisting of several con- siderable estates, into ready money. In this chest there are fifty thousand ducats ; more than enough for the remainder of my days, should I live to be an hundred ! For I do not spend a thousand a year, and am already more than fifty years old. I have no fears, therefore, for futurity, since I am not addicted, Heaven be praised ! to any one of the three things which usual- ly ruin men. I care little for the pleasures of the table ; I only play for my amusement ; and I have given up women. There is no chance of my being reckoned, in my old age, among those libidinous gray birds to whom jilts sell their favors by troy weight. You are a happy man ! said the corregidor." They are in the wrong to suspect you of being a spy ; that office is quite out of character for a man like you. Take your own course, Don Bernard : con- tinue to live as you like. Far from disturbing your peace, I declare myself your protector ; I request your friendship, and pledge my own. Ah ! sir, ex- 222 GIL BtAs. claimed my master, thrilled with these kind expres- sions, I accept, with equal joy and gratitude, your precious offer. In giving me your friendship, you augment my wealth, and carry my happiness to its height. After this conversation, which the alguazil and myself heard from the closet-door, the corregidor took his leave of Don Bernard, who could not do enough to express his sense of the obligation. On my part, mimicking my master in doing the honors of the house, I overburdened the alguazil with civil- ities. I made him a thousand low bows, though I felt for him in my sleeve the contempt and hatred which every honest man naturally entertains for an alguazil. CHAPTER II. THE ASTONISHMENT OF OIL BIAS AT MEETING CAPTAIN RO- LANDO IN MADRID, AND THAT ROBBER'S CURIOUS NARRA- TIVE. DON BERNARD DE CASTIL, BLAZO, having attended the corregidor to the street, returned in a hurry to fas- ten his strong-box, and all the doors which secured it. We then went out, both of us well satisfied ; he at having acquired a friend in power, and myself at finding my six rials a day secured to me. The de- sire of relating this adventure to Melendez made me bend my steps towards his house ; but, near my journey's end, whom should I meet but Captain CAPTAIN ROLANDO'S NARRATIVE. Rolando ! My surprise was extreme, and I could not help quaking at the sight of him. He recol- lected me at once, accosted me gravely, and, still keeping up his tone of superiority, ordered me to follow him. I tremblingly obeyed, saying inwardly, Alas ! he means, doubtless, to make me pay my debts ! Whither will he lead me ? There may perhaps be some subterraneous retreat in this city. Plague take it ! If I thought so, I would soon show him I have not got the gout. I walked there- fore behind him, carefully looking out where he might stop, with the pious design of putting my best leg foremost, if there was anything in the shape of a trap-door. Rolando soon dispersed my alarms. He went into a well-frequented tavern ; I followed him. He called for the best wine, and ordered dinner. While it was getting ready, we went into a private room, where the captain addressed me as follows : You may well be astonished, Gil Bias, to renew your acquaintance with your old commander ; and you will be still more so, when you have heard my tale. The day I left you in the cave, and went with my troop to Mansilla, for the purpose of selling the mules and horses we had taken the evening before, we met the son of the corregidor of Leon, attended by four men on horseback, well armed, following his carriage. Two of his people we made to bite the dust, and the other two ran away. On this, the coachman, alarmed for his master, cried out to us in a tone of supplication, Alas ! my dear gentlemen, 224 & in God's name, do not kill the only son of his wor- ship, the corregidor of Leon. These words were far from softening my comrades ; on the contrary, their fury knew no bounds. Good folks, said one of them, let not the son of a mortal enemy to men like us escape our vengeance. How many orna- ments of our profession has his father cut off in their prime ! Let us repay his cruelty with interest, and sacrifice this victim to their offended ghosts. The whole troop applauded the fineness of this feeling, and my lieutenant himself was preparing to act as high priest at this unhallowed altar, when I inter- dicted the rites. Stop ! said I ; why shed blood without occasion? Let us rest contented with the youth's purse. As he makes no resistance, it would be against the laws of war to cut his throat. Be- sides, he is not answerable for his father's misdeeds ; nay, his father only does his duty in condemning us to death, as we do ours in rifling travellers. Thus did I plead for the corregidor's son, and my intercession was not unavailing. We only took every farthing of his money, and carried off with us the horses of the two men whom we had slain. These we sold with the rest at Mansilla. Thence we returned to the cavern, where we arrived the following morning, a little before daybreak. We were not a little surprised to find the trap open, and still more so, when we found Leonarda hand-cuffed in the kitchen. She unravelled the mystery in two words. We wondered how you could have over- reached us ; no one could have thought you capable CAPTAIN ROLANDO'S NARRATIVE. 225 of serving us such a trick, and we forgave the effect for the merit of the invention. As soon as we had released our kitchen wench, I gave orders for a good luncheon. In the mean time we went to look after our horses in the stable, where the old negro, who had been left to himself for four and twenty hours, was at the last gasp. We did all we could for his relief, but he was too far gone ; indeed, so much reduced, that, in spite of our endeavors, we left the poor devil on the threshold of another world. It was very sad ; but it did not spoil our appetites ; and, after an abundant breakfast, we retired to our cham- bers, and slept away the whole day. On our awaking, Leonarda apprized us that Domingo had paid the debt of nature. We carried him to the charnel-house, where you may recollect to have lodged, and there performed his obsequies, just as if he had been one of our own order. Five or six days afterwards, it fell out that, one morning on a sally, we encountered three compa- nies of the Holy Brotherhood, on the outskirts of the wood. They seemed waiting to attack us. We perceived but one troop at first. These we despised, though superior in number to our party, and rushed forward to the onset. But, while we were at loggerheads with the first, the two others in ambuscade came thundering down upon us ; so that our valor was of no use. There was no withstand- ing such a host of enemies. Our lieutenant and two of our gang gave up the ghost on this occasion. As for the two others and myself, we were so closely VOL. I. 15 226 M pressed and hemmed in, as to be taken prisoners ; and, while two detachments convoyed us to Leon, the third went to destroy our retreat. How it was discovered, I will briefly tell you. A peasant of Luceno, crossing the forest, on his way home, by chance espied the trap-door of our subterraneous residence, which a certain young runaway had not shut down after him, for it was precisely the day when you took yourself off with the lady. He had a violent suspicion of its being our abode, without having the courage to go in. It was enough to mark the adjacent parts, by lightly peeling, with his knife, bark from the nearest trees, and so on from distance to distance, till he was quite out of the wood. He then betook himself to Leon, with this grand discovery for the corregidor, who was so much the better pleased, as his son had been robbed by our gang. This magistrate collected together three companies, to lay hold of us, and the peasant showed them the way. My arrival in the town of Leon was as good as that of a wild beast to the inhabitants. Even though I had been a Portuguese general, made prisoner of war, the people could not have been more anxious to see me. There he goes ! was the cry : that is he, the famous captain, the terror of these parts ! It would serve him right to tear him, piecemeal, with pincers, and make his comrades join in the chorus. To the corregidor ! was the univer- sal cry ; and his worship began insulting me. So, so ! said he, scoundrel as you are, the powers of ROLAtiDO^S NARRATIVE. 227 justice, worn to a thread with your past irregulari- ties, hand over the task of punishment to me, as their delegate. Sir, answered I, great as my crimes may have been, at least, the death of your only son is not to be laid at my door. His life was saved by me ; you owe me some acknowledgment on that score. O ! wretch, exclaimed he, there are no measures to be kept with people of your description. And, though it were my wish to save you, my sacred office would not allow me to indulge my feelings. Having spoken to this effect, he committed us to a dungeon, where my companions had no time to lament their hard fate. They got out of confine- ment, at the end of three days, to expatiate, with tragic energy, at the place of execution. For my part, I took up my quarters in limbo, for three complete weeks. My punishment, seemingly, was deferred, only to render it more terrible ; and I was looking out for some refinement on the ordinary course of criminal justice, when the corregidor, hav- ing summoned me before him, said, Give ear to your sentence. You are free. Had it not been for you, my only son would have been assassinated on the highway. As a father, my gratitude was due for this service ; but not being competent to acquit you in my capacity of a magistrate, I have written up to court in your favor ; have solicited your par- don, and have obtained it. Go, then, whitherso- ever it may seem good to you. But take my advice ; profit by this lucky escape. Look to your paths, and give up the trade of a highwayman for good and all. 228 GI I was deeply impressed by this advice, and took my departure for Madrid, in the firm determination of mending my ways, and living quietly in that city. There I found my father and mother dead, and what they left behind them in the hands of an old kins- man, who administered duly and truly, as all trus- tees of course do. I saved three thousand ducats out of the fire scarcely a quarter of what I was entitled to. But where was the remedy? There was no standing to the quirks and evasions of the law. Just to be doing something, I have purchased an alguazil's place. My colleagues would have set their faces against my admission, for the honor of the cloth, had they known my history. Luckily they did not, or at least affected not to know it, which was just as good as the reality ; for, in that illustrious body, it is the bounden duty and interest of every member to wear a mask. The pot cannot call the kettle hard names, thank heaven. The devil would have no great catch in the best of us. And yet, my friend, I could willingly unbosom myself to you with- out disguise. My present occupation is much against the grain ; it requires too circumspect and too "mys- terious a conduct ; there is nothing to be done but by underhand dealings, gravity, and cunning. O ! for my first trade ! The new one is safer, to be sure ; but there is more fun in the other, and liberty is my motto. I feel disposed to get rid of my office, and to set out, some sunshiny morning, for the moun- tains at the source of the Tagus. I know of a retreat thereabouts, inhabited by a numerous gang, CAPTAIN ROLANDO'S NARRATIVE. 229 composed chiefly of Catalonians ; when I have said that, I need say no more. If you will go along with me, we will swell the number of those heroes. I shall be second in command. To make your foot- ing respectable at once, I will swear that you have fought ten times by my side. Your valor shall mount to the very skies. I will tell more good of you than a commander-in-chief of a favorite officer. I will not say a word about the runaway trick ; that would render you suspected of turning nose there- fore, mum is the word. What say you to it? Are you ready to set off? I am impatient to know your mind. Every one to his own fancy, said I, then, to Ro- lando ; you were born for bold exploits, and your friend for a serene and quiet life. I understand you, interrupted he ; the lady whom love induced you to carry off, still preserves her influence over your heart, and you doubtless lead with her that serene life of which you are enamoured. Own the truth, Master Gil Bias ; she is become a thing of your own, and you are both living on the pistoles carried off from the subterraneous retreat. I told him he was mistaken ; and, to set him right, related the lady's adventures and my own, while we sat at dinner. When our meal was finished, he led back to the subject of the Catalonians, and attempted once more to engage me in his project. But finding me inflexi- ble, he looked at me with a terrific frown, and said seriously, Since you are dastard enough to prefer your servile condition to the honor of enlisting in a, 230 GIL BLAS. troop of brave fellows, I turn you adrift to your own grovelling inclinations. But mark me well : a lapse may be fatal. Forget our meeting of to-day, and never prate about me to any living soul ; for if I catch you bandying about my name in your idle talk .... you know my ways, I need say no more. "With these words, he called for the landlord, paid the reckoning, and we rose from the table to go away. CHAPTER III. GIL BLAS IS DISMISSED BY DON BERNARD DE CASTIL JiLAZO, AND ENTERS INTO THE SERVICE OF A BEAU. As we were coming out of the tavern, and taking our leave, my master was passing along the street. He saw me, and I observed him look more than once at the captain. I had no doubt but he was surprised at meeting me in such company. It is certain that Rolando's physiognomy and air were not much in favor of moral qualities. He was a gigan- tic fellow, with a long face, a parrot's beak, and a very rascally contour, without being absolutely ugly. I was not mistaken in my guess. In the evening, I found Don Bernard harping on the captain's figure, and charmingly disposed to believe all the fine things I could have said of him, if my tongue had not been tied. Gil Bias, said he, who is that great shark I saw with you awhile ago? I told him it was au GIL BLAS DISMISSED BY HIS MASTER, 231 alguazil, and thought to have got off with that answer ; but he returned to the charge ; and observ- ing my confusion, from the remembrance of the threats used by Rolando, broke off the conversation abruptly, and went to bed. The next morning, when I had performed my ordinary duties, he counted me over six ducats instead of six rials, and said, Here, my friend, this is what I give you for your services up to this day. Go and look out for another place. A servant keeping such high com- pany is too much for me. I bethought myself of saying, in my own defence, that I had known that alguazil, by having prescribed for him at Valladolid, while I was practising medicine. Very good, replied my master ; the shift is ingenious enough ; you might have thought of it last night, and not have looked so foolish. Sir, rejoined I, in good truth, prudence kept me silent, and gave to my reserve the aspect of guilt. Undoubtedly, re- sumed he, tapping me softly on the shoulder, it was carrying prudence very far, even to the confines of cunning. Go, lad ; I have no farther occasion for your services. I went immediately to acquaint Melendez with the bad news, who told me, for my comfort, that he would engage to procure me a better berth. Indeed, some days after, he said, Gil Bias, my friend, you have no notion of the good luck in store for you. You will have the, .most agreeable post in the world. I am going to settle you with Don Matthias de Silva. He is a man of the first fashion one of those 232 GIL BLAS. young noblemen commonly distinguished by the appellation of beaus. I have the honor of his cus- tom. He takes up goods of me, on tick, indeed ; but these great men are good pay in the long run : they often marry rich heiresses and then old scores are wiped off; or, should that fail, a tradesman who understands his business, puts such a price upon his articles, that if three fourths of his debts are bad, he is no loser. Don Matthias's steward is my intimate friend. Let us go and look for him. It will be for him to present you to his master ; and you may rely upon it, that, for my sake, he will treat you with high consideration. As we were on our way to Don Matthias's house, this honest shopkeeper said, It is fit, methinks, that you should be let into the steward's character. His name is Gregorio Rodriguez. Between ourselves, he is a man of low birth, with a talent for intrigue, in which Avocation he has labored, till a stewardship in two distressed families completed their ruin, and made his fortune. I give you notice, that his van- ity is excessive ; he loves to see the under-servants creeping and crawling at his feet. It is with him they must make interest, if they have any favor to beg of their master ; for, should they happen to obtain it without his interference, he has always some shift or other at hand to get the boon revoked, or, at least, render it of no avail. Regulate your conduct on this hint, Gil Bias ; pay court to Signer Rodriguez in preference to your master himself, and leave n, iV , LIBRARY LOS A 001 137057 4 UCLA-College Library PQ 1997 G5E5 1890 v.1 L 005 717 399 9