The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane - Alain René le Sage (best fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

class="calibre1">determined that we should take up our abode at the castle till

the damage was made good. All the arrangements were in the first

style of elegance, and our lodgings were correspondent to the

magnificence of the establishment in other respects.

 

The day after, my mistress discovered new charms in Elvira’s

conversation. They dined in a large hall, where there were

several pictures. One among the rest was distinguished for its

admirable execution, but the subject was highly tragic. A

principal figure was a man of superior mien, lying lifeless on

his back, and bathed in his own blood; yet in the very embraces

of death he wore a menacing aspect. At a little distance from him

you might see a young lady in a different posture, though

stretched likewise on the ground. She had a sword plunged in her

bosom, and was giving up her last sighs, at the same time casting

her dying glances at a young man who seemed to suffer a mortal

pang at losing her. The painter had besides charged his picture

with a figure which did not escape my notice. It was an old man

of a venerable physiognomy, sensibly touched with the objects

which struck his sight, and equally alive with the young man to

the impressions of the melancholy scene. It might be said that

these images of blood and desolation affected both the spectators

with the same astonishment and grief, but that the outward

demonstrations of their in ward sentiments were different. The

old man, sunk in a profound melancholy, looked as if he was bowed

down to the ground; while the youth mingled some thing like the

extravagance of despair with the tears of affliction. All these

circumstances were depicted with touches so characteristic and

affecting, that we could not take our eyes off the performance.

My mistress desired to know the subject of the piece. Madam, said

Elvira, it is a faithful delineation of the misfortunes sustained

by my family. This answer excited Aurora’s curiosity; and she

testified so strong a desire to learn the particulars, that the

widow of Don Pedro could do no otherwise than promise her the

satisfaction she desired. This promise, made before Ortiz, her

two fellow-servants, and myself, rooted us to the spot on which

we were listening to their former conversation. My mistress would

have sent us away; but Elvira, who saw plainly that we were dying

with eagerness to be present at the explanation of the picture,

had the goodness to desire us to stay, alleging at the same time

that the story she had to relate was not of a nature to enjoin

secrecy. After a moment’s recollection, she began her recital to

the following effect: —

 

CH. IV. — The Fatal Marriage; a Novel.

 

ROGER, king of Sicily, had a brother and a sister. His brother,

by name Mainfroi, rebelled against him, and kindled a war in the

kingdom, bloody in its immediate effects, and portentous in its

future consequences. But it was his fate to lose two battles, and

to fall into the king’s hands. The punishment of his revolt

extended no further than the loss of liberty. This act of

clemency served only to make Roger pass for a barbarian in the

estimation of the disaffected party among his subjects. They

contended that he had saved his brother’s life only to wreak his

vengeance on him by tortures the more merciless because

protracted. People in general, on better grounds, transferred the

blame of Mainfroi’s harsh treatment while in prison to his sister

Matilda. That princess had, in fact, cherished a long-rooted

hatred against this prince, and was indefatigable in her

persecutions during his whole life. She died in a very short time

after him, and her premature fate was considered as the

retribution of a just providence for her disregard of those

sentiments implanted by nature for the best purposes.

 

Mainfroi left behind him two sons. They were yet in their

childhood. Roger had a kind of lurking desire to get rid of them,

under the apprehension lest, when arrived at a more advanced age,

the wish of avenging their father might hurry them to the revival

of a faction which was not so entirely overthrown as to be

incapable of originating new intrigues in the state. He

communicated his purpose to the senator Leontio Siffredi, his

minister, who diverted him from his bloody thoughts by

undertaking the education of Prince Enriquez, the eldest, and

recommending the care of the younger, by name Don Pedro, to the

constable of Sicily, as a trusty counsellor and loyal servant.

Roger, assured that his nephews would be trained up by these two

men in principles of due submission to the royal authority, gave

up the reins of guardianship to their control, and himself took

charge of his niece Constance. She was of the same age with

Enriquez, and only daughter of the princess Matilda. He allowed

her an establishment of female attendants, and of masters in

every branch of the politer studies, so that nothing was wanting

either to her instruction or her state.

 

Leontio Siffredi had a castle at the distance of less than two

leagues from Palermo, in a spot named Belmonte. There it was that

this minister exerted all his talents and diligence, to render

Enriquez worthy of one day ascending the throne of Sicily. From

the first, he discovered dispositions so amiable in that prince,

that his attachment became as strong as if he had no child of his

own. He had, however, two daughters — Blanche, the first-born,

one year younger than the prince, was armed at all points with

the weapons of a most perfect beauty. Her sister Portia was still

in her cradle. The mother had died in child-bed of this youngest.

Blanche and Prince Enriquez conceived a reciprocal affection as

soon as they were alive to the influence of love: but they were

not allowed to improve their acquaintance into familiar

intercourse. The prince nevertheless found the means of

occasionally eluding the prudential vigilance of his guardian. He

knew sufficiently well how to avail himself of those precious

moments, and prevailed so far with Siffredi’s daughter, as to

gain her consent to the execution of a project which he

meditated. It happened precisely at this time that Leontio was

obliged by the king’s order to take a journey into one of the

most remote provinces in the island. During his absence Enriquez

got an opening made in the wall of his apartment, which led into

Blanche’s chamber. This opening was concealed by a sliding

shutter, so exactly corresponding with the wainscot, and so

closely fitting in with the ceiling and the floor, that the most

suspicious eye could not have detected the contrivance. A skilful

workman, whom the prince had gained over to his interests, helped

him to this private communication with equal speed and secrecy.

 

The enamoured Enriquez having obtained this inlet into his

mistress’s chamber, sometimes availed himself of his privilege;

but he never took advantage of her partiality. Imprudent as it

may well be thought, to admit of a secret entrance into her

apartment, it was only on the express and reiterated assurance

that none but the most innocent favours should be requested at

her hands. One night he found her in a state of unusual

perturbation. She had been informed that Roger was drawing near

his end, and had sent for Siffredi as lord high chancellor of the

kingdom, and the legal depository of his last will and testament.

Already did she figure to herself her dear Enriquez elevated to

royal honours. She was afraid of losing her lover in her

sovereign, and that fear had strangely affected her spirits. The

tears were standing in her eyes, when the unconscious cause of

them appeared before her. You weep, madam, said he, what am I to

think of this overwhelming grief? My lord, answered Blanche, it

were vain for me to hide my apprehensions. The king your uncle is

at the point of death, and you will soon be called to supply his

place. When I measure the distance placed between us by your

approaching greatness, I will own to you that my mind misgives

me. The monarch and the lover estimate objects through a far

different medium. What constituted the fondest wish of the

individual, while his aspiring thoughts were checked by the

control of a superior, fades into insignificance before the

tumultuous cares or brilliant destinies of royalty. Be it the

misgiving of an anxious heart, or the whisper of a well-founded

opinion, I feel distracting emotions succeed one another in my

breast, which not all my just confidence in your goodness can

allay. The source of my mistrust is not in the suspected

steadiness of your attachment, but in a diffidence of my own

happy fate. Lovely and beloved Blanche, replied the prince, your

fears but bind me the more firmly in your fetters, and warrant my

devotion to your charms. Yet this excessive indulgence of a fond

jealousy borders on disloyalty to love, and, if I may venture to

say so, trenches on the esteem to which my constancy has hitherto

entitled me. No, no, never entertain a doubt that my destiny can

ever be sundered from yours, but rather indulge the pleasing

anticipation, that you, and you alone, will be the arbitress of

my fate, and the source of all my bliss. Away, then, with these

vain alarms. Why must they disturb an intercourse so charming?

Ah! my lord, rejoined the daughter of Leontio, your subjects,

when they place the crown upon your head, may ask of you a

princess-queen, descended from a long line of kings, whose

glittering alliance shall join new realms to your hereditary

estates. Perhaps, alas! you will meet their ambitious aims, even

at the expense of your softest vows. Nay, why, resumed Enriquez,

with rising passion, why too ready a self-tormentor, do you raise

so afflicting a phantom of futurity? Should heaven take the king

my uncle to itself, and place Sicily under my dominion, I swear

to unite myself with you at Palermo, in presence of my whole

court. To this I call to witness all which is held sacred and

inviolable among men.

 

The protestations of Enriquez removed the fears of Siffredi’s

daughter. The rest of their discourse turned on the king’s

illness. Enriquez displayed the goodness of his natural

disposition, for he pitied his uncle’s lot, though he had no

reason to be greatly affected by it; but the force of blood

extorted from him sentiments of regret for a prince whose death

held out an immediate prospect of the crown. Blanche did not yet

know all the misfortunes which hung over her. The constable of

Sicily, who had met her coming out of her father’s apartment, one

day when he was at the castle of Belmonte on some business of

importance, was struck with admiration. The very next day, he

made proposals to Siffredi, who entertained his offer favourably;

but the illness of Roger taking place unexpectedly about that

time, the marriage was put off for the present, and the subject

had not been hinted at in the most distant manner to Blanche.

 

One morning, as Enriquez had just finished dressing, he was

surprised to see Leontio enter his apartment, followed by

Blanche. Sir, said this minister, the news I have to announce

will in some degree afflict your excellent heart, but it is

counteracted by consoling circumstances which ought to moderate

your grief. The king your uncle has departed this life; and by

his death left you the heir of his sceptre. Sicily is at your

feet. The nobility of the kingdom wait your orders at Palermo.

They have commissioned me to receive them in person, and I come,

my liege, with my daughter to pay you the earliest and sincerest

homage of your new subjects. The