The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane by Alain René le Sage (good books to read in english .TXT) 📕

landlord’s hearing, pinned his faith upon my veracity. Probably

my unfledged youth might lead him to take me for some graceless

little truant who had robbed his parents and run away. But that

was no concern of his: he took the thing just as I gave it him,

for fear lest his curiosity should clash with my continuance at

his house. For six reals a day one could live like a gentleman at

this inn, where there was generally a considerable concourse of

company. About a dozen people sat down at supper. It was

whimsical enough; but the whole party plied their knives and

forks without speaking a word, except one man, who talked

incessantly, right or wrong, and made up for the silence of the

rest by his eternal babble. He affected to be a wit, to tell a

good story, and took great pains to make the good folks merry by

his puns; and accordingly they did laugh most inextinguishably;

but it was at him, not with him.

For my part, I paid so little attention to the talk of this

rattle, that I should have got up from table without knowing what

it was all about, if he had not brought it home to my business

and my bosom. Gentlemen, cried he, just as supper was over, I

have kept my best story for the last; a very droll thing happened

within these few days at the archbishop of Seville’s palace. I

had it from a young fellow of my acquaintance, who assures me

that he was present at the time. These words made my heart jump

up into my throat, for I had no doubt of this being my exploit —

and so it turned out This pleasant gentle man related the facts

as they actually happened, and even carried the adventure to its

conclusion, of which I was as yet ignorant: but now you shall be

made as wise as myself.

No sooner had I absconded, than the Moors, who were, according to

the progress of the fable and the rising of the interest, to lay

violent hands on me, appeared upon the stage, for the fell

purpose of surprising me on my bed of turf, where the author had

given them reason to expect me fast asleep; but when they thought

they were just going to capot the King of Leon, they found, to

their surprise, that both the king and the knave made a trick

against them. Here was a hole in the ballad! The actors all lost

their cue; some of them called me by name, others ran to look for

me; here is a fellow bawling as though his bellows would burst,

there stands another, muttering to himself about the devil, just

as if that reptile could stand upright in such a presence! The

archbishop, perceiving trouble and confusion to lord it behind

the scenes, asked what was the matter. At the sound of the

prelate’s voice, a page, who was the fiddle of the piece, came to

the front and spoke thus: My lord archbishop, ladies, and

gentlemen! We are extremely sorry to inform you, as players, but

extremely glad, as men and Christians, that the King of Leon is

at present in no danger whatever of being taken prisoner by the

Moors: he has adopted effectual measures for the security of his

royal person; and to the royal person, as liberty avails little

without property, he has irrevocably attached the crown,

insignia, and robes. And a happy deliverance for himself and

Christendom! exclaimed the archbishop. He has done perfectly

right to escape from the enemies of our religion, and to burst

from the bonds in which their malice would have laid him. By this

time, probably, he has reached the confines of his kingdom, or

may have entered the capital. May no unlucky accident have

retarded him on his journey! And that the sin of none such may

lie heavy on my conscience, I beg leave very positively to make

my pleasure known, that he may proceed unmolested by any

interruption from this quarter; I should be highly mortified

indeed, if his majesty’s pious endeavours were to be frustrated

by the slightest indignity from the ministers of that religion in

whose cause he labours and suffers. The prelate, having thus

declared his acquiescence in the motives of my flight, ordered my

part to be read, and the play to be resumed.

CH. XI. — Continuation of Scipio’s story.

As long as I had money in my purse, my landlord was cap in hand;

but the moment he began to suspect that the funds were low, he

became high and mighty, picked a German quarrel with me, and one

morning, before breakfast, begged it as a favour of me to march

out of his house. I followed his counsel as proudly as you

please, and betook me to a church belonging to the fathers of St

Dominic, where, while mass was performing, an old beggar accosted

me on the usual topic of alms. I dropped some small change into

his hat, which was truly the orphan’s mite, saying at the same

time: My friend, remember in your prayers to mention a situation

for me; if your petition is heard with favour, it shall be all

the better for you; hearty thanks, and a handsome poundage!

At these words, the beggar surveyed me up and down from head to

foot, and answered in a grave tone: What place would you wish to

have? I should like, replied I, to be footman in some family

where I should do well. He inquired whether the matter pressed.

With all possible importunity, said I, for unless I have the good

luck to get settled very soon, the alternative will be horrible;

death by the gripe of absolute famine, or a livelihood in the

ranks of your fraternity. If the latter were, after all, to be

your lot, resumed he, it certainly would be rather hard upon you,

who have not been brought up to our habits of life; but, with a

little use and practice, you would prefer our condition to

service, which, partiality apart, is far less respectable than

the beggar’s vocation. Nevertheless, since you like a menial

occupation better than leading a free and independent life like

me, you shall have a berth without more ado. Mean as my

appearance, is, you must not measure my power by it. Meet me here

at the same hour to-morrow.

I took care to keep the appointment. Though at the spot before

the time, I had not long to wait before the beggar joined me, and

told me to follow him. I did so. He led me to a cellar not far

from the church where he resided. We went in together; and

sitting down on a long bench, at least a hundred years the worse

for wear, the conversation took this turn on his part: A good

action, as the proverb says, always meets with its reward: you

gave me alms yesterday, and that has determined me to get you a

place, which shall be soon done, with a blessing on my

endeavours. I know an old Dominican, by name Father Alexis, a

holy monk, a ghostly confessor. I have the honour to do all his

little odd jobs, performing my task with so much discretion and

good faith, that he always lends his interest to me and my

friends. I have spoken to him about you, and in such terms as to

prepossess him in your favour. You may be introduced to his

reverence whenever you please.

There is not a moment to be lost, said I to the old beggar; let

us go to the good monk immediately. The mendicant agreed, and led

me by the arm to Father Alexis, whom we found in his room, hard

at work, writing spiritual letters. He broke off to talk with me.

As it was the wish of the mendicant, he would do all in his power

to serve me. Having learnt, pursued be, that Signor Balthasar

Velasquez is in want of a footboy, I wrote to him this morning on

your behalf; and he just sent me for answer, that he would take

you without further inquiry on my recommendation. This very day

you may call on him from me; he is one of my flock, and my very

good friend. Thereupon the monk preached to me for three quarters

of an hour on my moral and religious duties, and how to fulfil

them in conscience and honour. He enlarged principally on the

obligation of serving Velasquez with diligence and devotion; and

then assured me that he would take care and keep me in my place,

provided my master had no very material fault to find with me.

After having thanked the holy person for his goodness towards me,

I left the convent with the beggar, who told me that Signor

Balthasar Velasquez was an old woollen-draper, but with much

simplicity and good nature in his character. I doubt not, added

he, but you will be perfectly comfortable in his house. I begged

to know his place of residence, and repaired thither immediately,

after promising to make my gratitude manifest, as soon as I had

taken root in my new soil. I went into a large shop, where two

fashionable young apprentices were walking up and down,

practising new grimaces against the entrance of the next

customer. I inquired whether their master was at home, saying

that I wanted to speak with him from Father Alexis. At that

venerable name they shewed me into the countinghouse, where

their principal was turning over the ledger. I made a low bow,

and coming up to him, Sir, said I, Father Alexis ordered me to

call here and offer myself as a servant to your honour. Ah! my

smart lad, answered he, you are heartily welcome. It is enough

that the holy man sent you; and I shall take you in preference to

three or four others who have been recommended. It is a clear

case; your wages begin from this day.

A very short time in the family convinced me that the head of it

was just such a man as he had been described, In point of

simplicity, be was everything that could be wished; so exquisite

a subject for imposition, that it seemed next to an impossibility

not to exercise my craft upon such a handle. He had been a

widower four years, and had two children, a son five-and-twenty,

and a daughter in her eleventh year. The girl, brought up by a

severe duenna, under the spiritual conduct of Father Alexis,

walked in the high road of virtue; but her brother, Gaspard

Velasquez, though no pains had been spared to make a good man of

him, picked out for himself all the vices of a young profligate.

Sometimes he stayed away from home two or three days together;

and if, on his return, his father ventured to remonstrate in the

least against his proceedings, Gaspard shut his mouth at once,

with a haughty toss of the head, and an impertinent answer.

Scipio, said the old man one day, my son is the plague of my

life. He is over head and ears in all kinds of debauchery: and

yet there is no accounting for it, since his education was by no

means neglected. I have given him the very best masters; and my

friend Father Alexis has done his utmost to train him up in the

way he should go; but there was no breaking him in; Master

Gaspard ran restive, and bolted into downright libertinism. You

may perhaps tell me, that I spared the rod and spoiled the child.

Quite otherwise! he was punished whenever the occasion seemed to

demand it; for, though