Gil Blas - Alain-René Lesage (online e book reader .txt) 📗

Combados died of his wounds, while mine, on the contrary, wore the appearance of convalescence. The young widow, whom no earthly considerations could detach from the care of transporting her late husband’s remains to Coria, that they might be deposited with due honors in the family vault, left Villarejo on her return, after inquiring, merely as a matter of course, how I was going on. As soon as I was well enough to be removed, I bent my course to Coria, where my recovery was soon ascertained. My aunt, Doña Eleonora, and Don George de Galisteo, were determined that my marriage with Helena should take place forthwith, lest some new caprice of fortune should part us once more. The ceremony was privately performed, on account of the late melancholy event, and within a few days I returned to Madrid with Doña Helena. As my leave of absence had expired, I was afraid lest the minister should have superseded me in my lieutenancy; but he had not filled up the vacancy, and received my apologies very graciously.

“Thus am I,” continued Cogollos, “lieutenant of the Spanish guards, and my situation is exactly to my mind. The circle of my friends is respectable and pleasant, and I live at my ease among them.”

“Would I could say as much!” exclaimed Don Andrew; “but I am very far from being satisfied with my lot: I have lost my appointment, which was not without its advantages, and have no friends of sufficient interest to procure me a better berth.”

“Excuse me, Señor Don Andrew,” cried I, with a sort of upbraiding smile, “you have a friend in me who may chance to be better than no friend at all. I have told you already that I am a greater favorite with my lord duke than with the Duke of Lerma; and will you tell me to my face that you have no interest at court? Have you not already experienced the contrary? Recollect that, through the Archbishop of Grenada’s powerful recommendation, I procured you a nomination for Mexico, where you would have made your fortune, if love had not stepped in and marred it at Alicante. My means are now more extensive, since I have the ear of the prime minister.”

“I give myself up to you then,” replied Tordesillas; “but do not send me into New Spain, though the first appointment in the colonies were at your disposal.”

Here we were interrupted by Doña Helena, who came into the room, and improved even upon the visions of my fancy by the reality of her charms. Cogollos introduced me as the companion who had solaced the tedious hours of his imprisonment.

“Yes, madam,” said I to Doña Helena, “my conversation did indeed soothe his sorrows, for it turned on you.” The compliment was not thrown away, and I took my leave with repeated congratulations. With respect to Tordesillas, I assured him that within a week he should know how far my power, as well as will, extended.

Nor were these mere words. On the very next day, the opportunity occurred. “Santillane,” said his excellency, “the place of governor in the royal prison of Valladolid is vacant: it is worth more than three hundred pistoles a year, and is yours if you will accept of it.”

“Not if it were worth ten thousand ducats,” answered I, “for it would carry me away from your lordship.”

“But,” replied the minister, “you may fill it by deputy, and only visit occasionally.”

“That is as it may be,” rejoined I; “but I shall only accept it on condition of resigning in favor of Don Andrew de Tordesillas, a brave and loyal gentleman; I should like to give him this place in acknowledgment of his kindness to me in the tower of Segovia.”

This plea made the minister laugh heartily, and say, “As far as I see, Gil Blas, you mean to make yourself a general patron. Even so be it, my friend; the vacancy is yours for Tordesillas; but tell me unfeignedly what fellow-feeling you have in the business, for you are not such a fool as to throw away your interest for nothing.”

“My lord,” answered I, “Don Andrew charged me nothing for all his acts of friendship; and should not a man repay his obligations?”

“You are become highly moral and self-mortified,” replied his excellency; “rather more so than under the last administration.”

“Precisely so,” rejoined I; “then evil communication corrupted my principles; bargain and sale were the order of the day, and I conformed to the established practice: now, all preferment is allotted on the footing of a meritorious free gift, and my integrity shall not be the last to fall in with the fashion.”

XIV

Santillane’s visit to poet Núñez⁠—The company and conversation.

One day, after dinner, a fancy seized me to go and see the poet of the Asturias, feeling a sort of curiosity to know on what floor he lodged. I repaired to the house of Señor Don Bertrand Gómez del Ribero, and asked for Núñez.

“He does not live here now,” said the porter, “but over the way, in apartments at the back of the house.” I went thither, and, crossing a small court, entered an unfurnished parlor, where my friend Fabricio was sitting at table, doing the honors to five or six guests from the hamlet and liberty of Parnassus.

They were at the latter end of a feast, and of course at the beginning of an affray; but as soon as they perceived me, a dead silence succeeded to their obstreperous argumentation. Núñez rose from his seat with much pomp and circumstance of politeness to receive me, saying, “Gentlemen, Señor de Santillane! He does me the honor to visit me under this humble roof; as the favorite of the prime minister, you will all join with me in tendering your humble services.” At this introduction, the worshipful company got up and made their best bows; for my rank could not fail of procuring me respect from the manufacturers of dedications. Though I was