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

“Yes, truly,” replied I, “you are a match for one another, there is no gainsaying it. Bless their dear hearts! the players are not men of straw, as I foolishly believed, and you have made my mouth water to serve such a worshipful fraternity.”

“Well, then,” resumed she, “you have only to come back again in two days. That time will be sufficient to incline my mistress in your favor; I will speak up for you. She is a little under my influence; I do not fear bringing you under this roof.”

I thanked Laura for her good dispositions. My gratitude took the readiest way to prove itself to her comprehension; and my tender thrillings expressed more than words. We had a pretty long conversation together, and it might have lasted till this time, if a little skipping fellow had not come to tell my nymph of the side scenes, that Arsenia was inquiring for her. We parted. I left the house, in the sweet hope of soon living there scot-free; and my face was shown up again at the door in two days.

“I was looking out for you,” said my accomplished scout, “to assure you, that you are a messmate at this house. Come, follow me; I will introduce you to my mistress.”

At these words, she led me into a suite of five or six rooms on a floor, in a regular gradation of costly furniture and tasteful equipment. What luxury! What magnificence! I thought myself in presence of a vice-queen, or, to mend the poverty of the comparison, in a fairy palace, where all the riches of the earth were collected. In fact, there were the productions of many people and of many countries, so that one might describe this residence as the temple of a goddess, whither every traveller brought some rare product of his native land, as a votive offering. The divinity was reclining on a voluptuous, satin sofa: she was lovely in my eyes, and pampered with the fumes of daily sacrifices. She was in a tempting deshabille, and her polished hands were elegantly busy about a new headdress for her appearance that evening.

“Madam,” said the abigail, “here is that said steward; take my word for it you will never get one more to your liking.”

Arsenia looked at me very inquisitively, and did not find me disagreeable. “Why, this is something, Laura!” cried she; “a very smart youth, truly; I foresee that we shall do very well together.” Then directing her discourse to me, “Young man,” added she, “you suit me to a hair, and I have only one observation to make: you will be pleased with me, if I am so with you.”

I answered, that I should do my utmost to serve her to her heart’s content. As I found that the bargain was struck, I went immediately to fetch in my own little accommodations, and returned to take formal possession.

Much such another as the foregoing.

It was near the time of the doors opening. My mistress told me to attend her to the theatre with Laura. We went into her dressing-room, where she threw off her ordinary attire, and assumed a more splendid costume for the stage. When the performance began, Laura showed me the way, and seated herself by my side, where I could see and hear the actors to advantage. They disgusted me for the most part, doubtless because Don Pompeyo had prejudiced me against them. Several of them were loudly applauded, but the fable of the pig would now and then come across my mind.

Laura told me the names of the actors and actresses as they made their entrances. Nor did she stop there, for the hussey gave some highly-seasoned anecdotes into the bargain. Her characters were, “crack-brain for this, impertinent fellow for that. That delicate sample of sin, who depends on her wantonness for her attractions, goes by the name of Rosarda: a bad speculation for the company! She ought to be sent with the next cargo to New Spain, she may answer the purpose of a viceroy. Take particular notice of that brilliant star now coming forward; that magnificent setting sun, increasing in bulk as its fires become less livid. That is Casilda. If from that distant day when she first laid herself open to her lovers, she had required from each of them a brick to build a pyramid, like an ancient Egyptian princess, the edifice by this time would have mounted to the third heaven.” In short, Laura tore all character to pieces by her scandal. Heaven forgive her wicked tongue! She blasphemed her own mistress.

And yet I must own my weakness. I was in love with the wench, though her morals were not strictly pure. She scandalized with so winning a malignity that one liked her the better for it. Off went the jill-flirt between the acts, to see if Arsenia wanted her; but instead of coming straight back to her place, she amused herself behind the scenes, in laying herself out for the little flatteries of all the wheedling fellows. I dogged her once, and found that she had a very large acquaintance. No less than three players did I reckon up, who stopped to chat with her one after the other, and they seemed to be on a very improvable footing. This was not quite so well; and, for the first time in my life, I felt what jealousy was. I returned to my seat so absent and out of spirits, that Laura remarked it as soon as she came back to me.

“What is the matter, Gil Blas?” said she with astonishment; “what blue devil has perched upon your shoulder in my absence? You look gloomy and out of temper.”

“My fairy queen,” answered I, “it is not without reason; you have an ugly kick in your gallop. I have observed you with the players⁠ ⁠…”

“So, so! An admirable subject for a