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

daughters, too, came in their train, tricked out in ribbons and in flowers, and dancing to the music of their own tambourines. We returned to the mansion under the same escort; and there, by the provident attentions of Scipio, who officiated as high steward and master of the ceremonies, we found three tables set out; one for the principals of the party, another for their household, and the third, which was by far the largest, for all invited guests promiscuously. Antonia was at the first, the governor’s lady having made a point of it; I did the honors of the second; and Basil was placed at the head of that where the country people dined. As for Scipio, he never sat down, but was here, there, and everywhere, fetching and carrying, changing plates and filling bumpers, urging the company to call freely for what they wanted, and egging them on to mirth and jollity.

The entertainment had been prepared by the governor’s cooks; and that is as much as to say that there were all the delicacies imaginable, in season or out of season. The good wines laid in for me by Master Joachim were set running at a furious rate; the guests were beginning to feel their jovial influence, pleasantry and repartee gave a zest to conviviality, when on a sudden our harmony was interrupted by an alarming occurrence. My secretary, being in the hall where I was dining with Don Alphonso’s principal officers and Seraphina’s women, suddenly fainted. I started up and ran to his assistance; and, while I was employed in bringing him about, one of the women was taken ill also. It was evident to the whole company that this sympathetic malady must involve some mysterious incident, as in effect it turned out, almost immediately, that thereby hung a tale; for Scipio soon recovered, and said to me in a low voice, “Why must one man’s meat be another man’s poison, and the most auspicious of your days the curse of mine? But every man bears the bundle of his sins upon his back, and my packsaddle is once more thrown across my shoulders in the person of my wife.”

“Powers of mercy!” exclaimed I, “this can never be! It is all a romance. What! you the husband of that lady whose nerves were so affected by the disturbance?”

“Yes, sir,” answered he, “I am her husband; and fortune, if you will take the word of a sinner, could not have done me a dirtier office than by conjuring up such a grievance as this.”

“I know not, my friend,” replied I, “what reasons you may have for thus belaboring your rib with wordy buffets; but however she maybe to blame, in mercy keep a bridle on your tongue; if you have any regard for me, do not displace the mirth and spoil the pleasure of this nuptial meeting by ominous disorder or enraged questions of past injuries.”

“You shall have no reason to complain on that score,” rejoined Scipio, “but shall see presently whether I am not a very apt dissembler.”

With this assurance he went forward to his wife, whom her companions had also brought back to life and recollection, and, embracing her with as much apparent fervor as if his raptures had been real, “Ah, my dear Beatrice,” said he, “heaven has at length united us again after ten years of cruel separation! But this blissful moment is well purchased by whole ages of torturing suspense!”

“I know not,” answered his spouse, “whether you really are at all the happier for having recovered a part of yourself: but of this at least I am fully certain, that you never had any reason to run away from me as you did. A fine story indeed! You found me one night with Señor Don Ferdinand de Leyva, who was in love with my mistress Julia, and consulted me on the subject of his passion; and only for that, you must take it into your stupid head that I was caballing with him against your honor and my own: thereupon that poor brain of yours was turned with jealousy; you quitted Toledo in a huff, and ran away from your own flesh and blood as you would from a monster of the deserts, without leaving word why or wherefore. Now, which of us two, be so good as to tell me, has most reason to take on and be pettish?”

“Your own dear self, beyond all question,” replied Scipio.

“Beyond all question,” reechoed she, “my own ill-used self. Don Ferdinand, very shortly after you had taken yourself off from Toledo, married Julia, with whom I continued as long as she lived; and, after we had lost her by sudden death, I came into my lady her sister’s service, who, as well as all her maids⁠—and I would do as much for them⁠—will give me a good character; honest and sober, and a very termagant among the impertinent fellows.”

My secretary, having nothing to allege against such a character from my lady and her maids, was determined to make the best of a bad bargain. “Once for all,” said he to his spouse, “I acknowledge my bad behavior, and beg pardon for it before this honorable assembly.” It was now time for me to act the mediator, and to move Beatrice for an act of amnesty, assuring her that her husband from this time forward would make it the great object of his life to play the husband to her satisfaction. She began to see that there was reason in roasting of eggs, and all present were loud in their congratulations on the triumph of suffering virtue, and the renovated pledge of broken vows. To bind the contract firmer, and make it memorable, they were seated next to one another at table; their healths were drank according to the laws of toasting: “Wish you joy! Many returns of this happy day!” rang round on every side: one would have sworn that the dinner was given for their