The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane - Alain René le Sage (best fiction books of all time .txt) 📗
- Author: Alain René le Sage
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his clutches, in the form of a loan, my dividend on the joint
stock of the strong box. I refunded to the last farthing; and
this restitution, it is to be hoped, may be set off as an
anticipated act of justice to the old draper, in the person of
his heir.
The young man, having exhausted this scanty supply, and desperate
of any other, fell into a deep melancholy, and into ultimate
derangement. He no longer looked on his father in any other light
than as the bane of his life. His frenzy broke out into the most
dreadful projects; so that, without listening to the voice of
consanguinity or nature, the wretch conceived the impious design
of poisoning him. He was not content with making me privy to the
atrocious design, but even proposed to render me the instrument
of parricide. At the very thought, my blood ran cold within me.
Sir, said I, is it possible that you are so rejected of heaven as
to have formed this horrid plot? What! is it in your nature to
murder the author of your existence? Shall Spain, the favoured
abode of the Christian faith, bear witness to the commission of a
crime, at the first blush of which transatlantic savages would
recoil with horror? No, my dear master, added I, throwing myself
on my knees, no, you will not be guilty of an action which would
raise the hand of all mankind against you, and be overtaken by an
infamous punishment
I pressed many arguments beside on Gaspard, to dissuade him from
so fearful an enterprise. How the deuce I came by all the moral
and religious topics, which I brought to act against the fortress
of his despair, is more than I can account for; but it is certain
that I preached like a doctor of Salamanca, though a mere
stripling, born of a gipsy fortune-teller. And yet it was to no
purpose that I suggested the duty of communing with his own
better resolutions, and stoutly wrestling with the fiend, who was
lying in wait for his immortal soul; my pious eloquence was
dissipated into air. His head hung sullenly on his bosom, and his
tongue uttered no sound, in answer to all my mollifying
exhortations, so that there was every reason to conclude he would
not swerve from his purpose.
Hereupon, taking my own measures, I requested a private interview
with my old master; and being closeted with him, Sir, said I,
allow me to throw myself at your feet, and to implore your pity.
In pathetic accord with my moving accents, I prostrated myself
before him, with my face all bathed in tears. The merchant,
surprised at what he saw and heard, asked the cause of my
distress. Remorse of conscience and repentance, answered I; but
neither repentance nor remorse can ever wash out my guilt. I have
been weak enough to give ear to your son, and to be his
accomplice in robbing you. To this confession I added a sincere
acknowledgment of all that had happened, with the particulars of
my late conversation with Gaspard, whose design I laid open
without the least reserve.
Bad as was the opinion which old Velasquez entertained of his
son, he could scarcely believe his ears. Nevertheless, finding no
good reason to distrust the truth of my account, Scipio, said he,
raising me from the ground, where I had till now been prostrate
at his feet, I forgive you in consideration of the important
notice you have communicated. Gaspard! pursued he, raising his
voice up to the loudness of anguish, does Gaspard aim a blow at
my life! Ah l ungrateful son, unnatural monster! better thou
hadst never been born, or stifled at thy birth, than to have been
reared for the destruction of thy father! What plea, what object,
what palliation of the atrocious deed? I furnished thee annually
with a reasonable allowance for thy pleasures, and what wouldst
thou have more? Must I have drained my fortune to the dregs to
support thee in thy extravagance? Having vented his feelings in
this bitter apostrophe, he enjoined secrecy on me, and told me to
leave him alone, while be considered how to act in so delicate a
conjuncture.
I was very anxious to know what resolution this unhappy father
would take, when on that very day he sent for Gaspard, and
addressed hint thus without betraying the inward emotions of his
heart: My so; I have received a letter from Merida, purporting
that if you are disposed to marry, you may make a match with a
very fine girl of fifteen, with a handsome fortune in her pocket.
If you have not forsworn that happy and holy estate, we will set
out to-morrow morning by daybreak for Merida: you will see the
lady in question, and if she hits your fancy, the business may
soon be settled, Gaspard, pricking up his ears at a handsome
fortune, and already fingering the cash by anticipation, answered
unhesitatingly that he was ready to undertake the journey; and
accordingly they departed the following day at sunrise, without
attendants, mounted on good mules.
Having reached the mountains of Fesira, in a delightful spot for
the operations of banditti, but terror-stirring to the timid
souls of travellers, Balthasar dismounted, and desired his son to
do likewise. The young man obeyed, but expressed his surprise at
such a requisition, in so lonely a place. I will tell you the
reason presently, answered the old man, darting at him a look of
mingled grief and anger: We are not going to Merida; and the
alleged courtship was only an invention of mine, for the purpose
of drawing you hither. I am not ignorant, ungrateful and
unnatural son, I am not uninformed of your meditated crime. I am
aware that a poison, prepared by your hands, was to have been
administered to me; but, mad as you are, could it enter into your
contemplation that my life could have been invaded with impunity
by such means? How fatally mistaken! Your crime would soon have
been detected, and you would have perished under the hands of the
executioner. There is a safer way of glutting your fell malice,
without exposing yourself to an ignominious death; we are here
without witnesses, and in a place where daily murders are
perpetrated; since you are so thirsty after my blood, plunge your
dagger into my bosom: the assassination will naturally be laid at
the door of some banditti. After these words, Balthasar, laying
his breast bare, and pointing to his heart, ended with this
challenge: Here, Gaspard, strike deep enough, strike home; make
me pay that forfeit for having engendered such a disgrace to
human nature, and no more than what is due to so monstrous a
production,
Young Velasquez, struck by this reproach as by a thunderbolt, far
from pleading in his own justification, fell instantly lifeless
at his father’s feet. The good old man, hailing the germ of
repentance in this unfeigned testimony of shame, could not help
yielding to paternal weakness; he made all possible haste to give
his assistance; but Gaspard had no sooner recovered the use of
his senses, than unable to stand in the presence of a father so
justly offended, he made an effort to raise himself from the
ground, then sprang upon his mule, and galloped out of sight
without saying one word. Balthasar suffered him to take his own
course, and returned to Cordova, little doubting but conscience
would play its part in revenging his wrongs. Six months
afterwards it appeared that the culprit had thrown himself into
the Carthusian convent at Seville, there to pass the remnant of
his days in penance.
CH. XII. — Conclusion of Scipio’s story.
BAD example sometimes produces the converse of itself. The
behaviour of young Velasquez made me think seriously on my own
predicament. I began to wrestle with my thievish propensities,
and to live like one of the better sort. A confirmed habit of
pouncing upon money wherever I could get it, had been contracted
by such a long succession of individual acts, that it was no easy
matter to say where it should stop. And yet I was in hopes to
accomplish my own reformation, under the idea that to become
virtuous a man had nothing to do but to contract the desire of
being so. I therefore undertook this great work, and heaven
seemed to smile upon my efforts: I left off eyeing the old
draper’s strong box with the carnal regard of avaricious longing:
nay, I verily believe, that if it had depended on my own will and
pleasure to have turned over the contents to my own use, I should
have abstained from the crime of picking and stealing. It must,
however, be admitted, that it would have been an unadvisable
measure to tempt my new-born integrity with meats too strong for
its stomach: and Velasquez was nurse enough to keep me on a
proper diet.
Don Manriquez de Medrano, a young gentleman, knight of Alcantara,
was in the habit of coming backwards and forwards to our house.
He was a customer, one of our principal in point of rank, if not
punctual in point of pay. I had the happiness to find favour with
this knight, who never met me without that sort of notice which
encouraged conversation, and with that conversation he appeared
always to be very much pleased. Scipio, said he, one day, if I
had a footman of your kidney, it would be as good as a fortune to
me, and if you were not in the service of a man who stands so
high in my regards, I should make no scruple about enticing you
away. Sir, answered I, you would have very little trouble in
succeeding; for I am distractedly partial to people of fashion;
it is my weak side; their free and easy manners fascinate me to
the extreme of folly. That being the case, replied Don Manriquez,
I will at once beg Signor Balthasar to turn you over from his
household to mine: he will scarcely refuse me such a request.
Accordingly Velasquez was kind and complying, with so much the
less violence to his own private feelings, as there seemed no
reason to think, that if a man parted with one knavish servant,
he might not easily get another in his place. To me the change
was all for the better, since a tradesman’s service appeared but
a beggarly condition in comparison with the office of own man to
a knight of Alcantara.
To draw a faithful likeness of my new master, I must describe him
as a gentleman possessing every requisite of person, figure,
manners, and disposition. Nor was that all; for his courage and
honour were equal to his other qualities: the goods of fortune
were the only good things he wanted, but being the younger son of
a family more distinguished by descent than opulence, he was
obliged to draw for his expenses on an old aunt living at Toledo,
who loved him as her own child, and administered to his occasions
with affectionate liberality. He was always well dressed, and
everywhere well received. He visited the principal ladies in the
city, and among others the Marchioness of Almenara. She was a
widow of seventy-two, but the centre of attraction to all the
fashionable society of Cordova, by the elegance of her manners
and the sprightliness of her conversation: men as well as women
laid themselves out for an introduction, because her parties
conferred at once on the frequenters the patent of good company.
My master was one of that lady’s most assiduous courtiers. After
leaving her one evening, his spirits seemed to be more elevated
than was natural to him. Sir, said I,
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