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

otherwise it might have puzzled us to find the place. It was not till our actual arrival that it was visible; for the mansion was situated at the foot of a mountain, in the middle of a wood, whose lofty trees hid it from our view. There was an antique and ruinous appearance about it, which spoke more for the descent than the wealth of its proprietor. On our entrance, however, the elegance of the interior arrangement made amends for the dilapidated grandeur of the outer walls.

Don Juan received us in a handsome room, where he introduced his sister Dorothea, a lady between nineteen and twenty years of age. She was a good deal tricked out, as if she had primed and loaded herself for conquest, in expectation of our visit. Thus presenting all her charms in full force, she did by me much as Antonia had done before; but I managed my raptures so discreetly, that even Scipio had no suspicion. Our conversation turned, as on the preceding day, on the mutual pleasure of good neighborhood. Still he did not open on the subject of Seraphina, nor did we attempt to draw him out. During our interview, I often cast a side glance at Dorothea, though with all the reserve of delicate apprehension; whenever our eyes met, the citadel of my heart was ready to surrender. To describe the object of my love justly, as well as feelingly, her beauty was not of the most perfect kind: her skin was of a dazzling whiteness, and her lips united the color with the fragrance of the rose; but her features were not so regular and well proportioned as might have been wished: yet, altogether, she won my heart.

In short, I left the mansion of Jutella a different man from what I was on entering it: so that, returning to Lirias with my whole soul absorbed in Dorothea, I saw and spoke only of her.

“How is this, master?” said Scipio with a look of astonishment: “you seem to be very much taken with Don Juan’s sister! Can you be in love with her?”

“Yes,” my friend, answered I: “to my shame be it spoken. Since the death of Antonia, how many lovely females have passed in review before me with indifference! and must my passions be irresistibly kindled at this time of life?”

“Indeed, sir,” replied the son of Cosclina, “you may bless your stars, instead of squabbling with yourself: you are not so old as to make your sacrifice at the shrine of love a byword; and time has not yet ploughed such furrows on your brow as to render hopeless the desire of pleasing. When you see Don Juan next, ask him boldly for his sister: he cannot refuse her to you; and besides, if his views in her settlement are ambitious, how can he do better? You have a patent of nobility in your pocket, and upon that your posterity may ride easy; after five generations, when pedigree herself shall be lost in the confusion of her materials, it may exercise the diligence of learned inquiry to trace the family of the Santillanes to the beginning of its archives, and consecrate the fame of its founder by the indistinctness of his story.”

XIV

A double marriage, and the conclusion of the history.

By this discourse, Scipio encouraged me to declare myself, without considering how he exposed me to the danger of a refusal. My own resolution was taken with fear and trembling. Though I carried my years well, and might have sunk at least ten, it did not seem unlikely that a young beauty might turn up her nose at the disparity. I determined, however, to bolt the question the first time I saw her brother, who was not without his trepidations on the subject of my goddaughter.

He returned my call the next morning, just as I had done dressing. “Señor de Santillane,” said he, “I wish to speak with you on some serious business.” I took him into my closet, where entering on the subject at once, “I imagine,” continued he, “that you are not unacquainted with the purpose of my visit: I love Seraphina; you are all in all with her father; I must request you therefore to intercede and procure for me the accomplishment of my heart’s desire; then shall I have to thank you for the prime bliss of my existence.”

“Señor Don Juan,” answered I, “as you come to the point at once, you can have no objection to my following your example: My good offices are fully at your service, and I shall hope for yours with your sister in return.”

Don Juan was agreeably surprised. “Can it be possible,” exclaimed he, “that Dorothea should have made a conquest of your heart since yesterday?”

“It is even so,” said I, “and it would make me the happiest of men if the proposal should meet with your joint approbation.”

“You may rely on that,” replied he; “though with some pretensions to family pride, yours is not an alliance to be despised.”

“You flatter me highly,” rejoined I; “that you are not mealymouthed about receiving a commoner into your pedigree is a mark of good sense; but even if nobility had been a necessary ingredient in your sister’s requisites for a husband, we should not have quarrelled on that account. I have worked out twenty years in the trammels of office; and the king, as a reward of my long labors, has granted me a patent of nobility.” This high-minded gentleman read my credentials over with extreme satisfaction, and returning them, told me that Dorothea was mine. “And Seraphina yours,” exclaimed I.

Thus were the two marriages agreed on between us. The consent of the intended brides was all that remained; for we neither of us presumed to control the inclinations of our wards. My friend therefore carried home my proposal to his sister, and I called Scipio, Beatrice, and my goddaughter together, for the purpose of laying open a