Gil Blas by Alain-René Lesage (best romance books of all time TXT) 📕

“ ‘Well then! if so,’ rejoined she with hurried importunity, ‘do you cease to flatter yourself with interesting my gratitude or my pity. In one short word, the wife of Don Blas shall never be the mistress of Don Gastón. Let us at once end a conversation at which delicacy revolts in spite of virtue, and peremptorily forbids its longer continuance.’

“I now threw myself at the lady’s feet in despair. All the powers of language and of tears were called forth to soften her. But even this served only to excite some inbred sentiments of compassion, stifled as soon as born, and sacrificed at the shrine of duty. After having fruitlessly exhausted all my stores of tender persuasion, rage took possession of my breast. I drew my sword, and would have fallen on its point before the inexorable Helena; but she saw my design, and prevented it.

“ ‘Stay your rash hand, Cogollos,’ said she. ‘Is it thus that you consult my reputation? In dying thus, and here, you will brand me with dishonor, and my husband with the imputation of murder.’

“In the agony of my despair, far from yielding to these suggestions, I only struggled against the preventive efforts of the two women, and should have struggled too successfully, if Don Blas had not appeared to second them. He had been apprised of our assignation, and, instead of going into the country, had concealed himself behind the hangings, to overhear our conference.

“ ‘Don Gastón,’ cried he, as he arrested my uplifted arm, ‘recall your scattered senses, and no longer give a loose to these mad transports.’

“Here I could hold no longer. ‘Is it for you,’ said I, ‘to turn me from my resolution? You ought rather yourself to plunge a dagger in my bosom. My love, with all its train of miseries, is an insult to you. Have you not surprised me in your wife’s apartment at this unseasonable hour? What greater provocation can you want for your revenge? Stab me, and rid yourself of a man who can only give up the adoration of Doña Helena with his life.’

“ ‘It is in vain,’ answered Don Blas, ‘that you endeavor to interest my honor in your destruction. You are sufficiently punished for your rashness; and my wife’s imprudence, in giving you this opportunity of indulging it, is sanctified by the purity of her sentiments. Take my advice, Cogollos: shrink not effeminately from your wayward destiny, but bear up against it with the patient courage of a hero.’

“The prudent Galician, by such language, gradually composed the ferment of my mind, and waked me once more to virtue. I withdrew in the determination of removing far from the scene of my folly, and went for Madrid two days afterwards. There, pursuing the career of fortune and preferment, I appeared at court, and laid myself out for connections. But it was my ill luck to attach myself particularly to the Marquis of Villareal, a Portuguese grandee, who, lying under a suspicion of intending to emancipate his country from the Spanish yoke, is now in the castle of Alicante. As the Duke of Lerma knew me to be closely connected with this nobleman, he gave orders for my arrest and detention here. That minister thought me capable of engaging in such a project⁠—he could not have offered a more outrageous affront to a man of noble birth and a Castilian.”

Don Gastón thus ended his story. By way of consolation I said to him, “Illustrious sir, your honor can receive no taint from this temporary detainer, and your interest will probably be promoted by it in the end. When the Duke of Lerma shall be convinced of your innocence, he will not fail to give you a considerable post, and thus retrieve the character of a gentleman unjustly accused of treason.”

Scipio finds Gil Blas out in the tower of Segovia, and brings him a budget of news.

Our conversation was interrupted by Tordesillas, who came into the room, and addressed me thus: “Señor Gil Blas, I have just been speaking with a young man at the prison gate. He inquired if you were not here, and looked much mortified at my refusal to satisfy his curiosity. ‘Noble governor,’ said he, with tears in his eyes, ‘do not reject my most humble petition. I am Señor de Santillane’s principal domestic, and you will do an act of charity by allowing me to see him. You pass for a kindhearted gentleman in Segovia; I hope you will not deny me the favor of conversing for a few minutes with my dear master, who is unfortunate rather than criminal.’ In short,” continued Don Andrew, “the lad was so importunate, that I promised to comply with his wishes this evening.”

I assured Tordesillas that he could not have pleased me better than by bringing this young man to me, who could probably communicate tidings of the last importance. I waited with impatience for the entrance of my faithful Scipio, since I could not doubt him to be the man; nor was I mistaken in my conjecture. He was introduced at the time appointed; and his joy, which only mine could equal, broke forth into the most whimsical demonstrations. On my side, in the ecstasy of delight, I stretched out my arms to him, and he rushed into them with no courtly, measured embrace. All distinctions of master and dependant were levelled in the sympathetic rapture of our meeting.

When our transports had subsided a little, I inquired into the state of my household. “You have neither household nor house,” answered he: “to spare you a long string of questions, I will sum up your worldly concerns in two words. Your property has been pillaged at both ends, both by the banditti of the law and by your own retainers, who, regarding you as a ruined man, paid themselves their own wages out of whatever they found that was portable. Luckily for you, I had the