I flew like lightning into the house, and found, in a very neat

parlor, this venerable and wary matron, who, taking me for a marquis

at least, dropped a low courtesy, and said: I doubt not, my lord, but

you must have a bad opinion of a woman who, without the slightest

acquaintance, beckons you out of the street; but you will, perhaps,

judge more favorably of me, when you shall know that I do not pay

that compliment promiscuously. You look like a man of fashion! You

are perfectly in the right, my old girl, interrupted I, stretching

out my right leg, and throwing the weight of my body on my left hip;

mine is, vanity apart, one of the best families in Spain. It must be

so by your looks, replied she, and I will fairly own that I delight

in doing a kindness to people of quality, that is my weak side. I

watched you through my window. You looked very earnestly at a lady

who has just left me. Perhaps you may have taken a fancy to her?

tell me so plainly. By the honor of my house, answered I, she has

shot me through the heart. I never saw anything so tempting; a most

divine creature! Do bring us acquainted, my dear, and rely on my

gratitude. It is worth while to do these little offices for us of

the beau monde; they are better paid than our bills.

I have told you once for all, replied the old woman, I am entirely

devoted to people of condition; it is my passion to be useful to

them: I receive here, for example, a certain class of ladies, whom

appearances prevent from seeing their favorites at home. I lend them

my house, and thus the warmth of their constitutions is indulged,

without risk to their characters. Vastly well, quoth I, and you have

just done that kindness to the lady in question? No, answered she,

this is a young widow of quality, in want of an admirer; but so

difficult in her choice, that I do not know whether you will do for

her, however great your requisites may be. I have already introduced

to her three well-furnished gallants, but she turned up her nose at

them. O! egad, my life, exclaimed I confidently, you have only to

stick me in her skirts, I will give you a good account of her, take

my word for it. I long to have a grapple with a beauty of such

peremptory demands; they have not yet fallen in my way. Well then,

said the old woman, you have only to come hither to-morrow at the

same hour: your curiosity shall be satisfied. I will not fail,

rejoined I; we shall see whether a young nobleman can miss a conquest.

I returned to the little barber's without looking for other

adventures, but deeply interested in the event of this. Therefore,

on the following day, I went in splendid attire, to the old woman's

an hour sooner than the time. My lord, said she, you are punctual,

and I take it kindly. To be sure the game is worth the chase. I

have seen our young widow, and we have had a good deal of talk about

you. Not a word was to be said; but I have taken such a liking to

you that I cannot hold my tongue. You have made yourself agreeable,

and will soon be a happy man. Between ourselves, the lady is a

relishing morsel, her husband did not live long with her; he glided

away like a shadow: she has all the merit of an absolute girl. The

good old lady, no doubt, meant one of those clever girls who contrive

not to live single, though they live unmarried.

The heroine of the assignation came soon in a hired carriage, as on

the day before, dressed very magnificently. As soon as she came into

the room, I led off with five or six coxcombical bows, accompanied by

the most fashionable grimaces. After this, I went up to her with a

very familiar air, and said: My adored angel, you behold a gentleman

of no mean rank, whom your charms have undone. Your image, since

yesterday, has taken complete possession of my fancy; you have turned

a duchess neck and heels out of my heart, who was beginning to

establish a footing there. The triumph is too glorious for me,

answered she, throwing off her veil, but still my transports are not

without alloy. Young men of fashion love variety, and their hearts

are, they say, bandied about from one to the other like a piece of

base money. Ah! my sovereign mistress, replied I, let us leave the

future to shift for itself, and think only of the present. You are

lovely: I am in love. If my passion is not hateful to you, let it

take its course at random. We will embark like true sailors, set the

storms and shipwreck of a long voyage at defiance, and only take the

fair weather of the time present into the account.

In flashing this speech, I threw myself in raptures at the feet of my

nymph; and the better to hit off my assumed character, pressed her

with some little peevishness not to delay my bliss. She seemed a

little touched by my remonstrances, but thought it too soon to yield,

and, giving me a gentle rebuff: Hold, said she, you are too

importunate; this is like a rake. I fear you are but a loose young

fellow. For shame, madam! exclaimed I; can you set your face against

what women of the first taste and condition encourage? A prejudice

against what is vulgarly called vice may be all very well for

citizens' wives. That is decisive, replied she; there is no

resisting so forcible a plea. I see plainly that with men of your

order dissimulation is to no purpose; a woman must meet you half way.

Learn then your victory, added she with an appearance of disorder, as

if her modesty suffered by the avowal; you have inspired me with

sentiments such as are new to my heart, and I only wait to know who

you are, that I may take you for my acknowledged lover. I believe

you a young lord and a gentleman, yet there is no trusting to

appearances; and, however prepossessed I may be in your favor, I

would not give away my affections to a stranger.

I recollected at the moment how Don Antonio's servant had got out of

a similar perplexity, and determining, after his example, to pass for

my master: Madam, said I to my dainty widow, I will not excuse myself

from telling you my name; it is one that will not disparage its

owner. Have you ever heard of Don Matthias de Silva? Yes, replied

she; indeed I have seen him with a lady of my acquaintance. Though

considerably improved in impudence, I was a little troubled by this

discovery. Yet I rallied my forces in an instant, and extricated

myself with a happy presence of mind. Well then, my fair one,

retorted I, the lady of your acquaintance ... knows a lord ... of my

acquaintance ... and I am of his acquaintance; of his own family,

since you must know it. His grandfather married the sister-in-law of

my father's uncle. You see we are very near relations. My name is

Don Cæsar. I am the only son of the great Don Ferdinand de Ribera,

slain fifteen years ago, in a battle on the frontiers of Portugal. I

could give you all the particulars of the action; it was a devilish

sharp one ... but to fight it over again would be losing the precious

moments of mutual love.

After this discourse I got to be importunate and impassioned, but

without bringing matters at all forwarder. The favors which my

goddess winked at my snatching, tended only to make me languish for

which she was more chary of. The tyrant got back to her coach, which

was waiting at the door. Nevertheless, I withdrew, well enough

pleased with my success, though it still fell short of the only

perfect issue. If, said I to myself, I have obtained indulgences but

by halves, it is because this lady, forsooth, is a high-born dame,

and thinks it beneath her quality to play the very woman at the first

interview. The pride of pedigree stands in the way of my advancement

just now, but in a few days we shall be better acquainted. To be

sure, it did not once come into my head that she might be one of

those cunning gypsies always on the catch. Yet I liked better to

look at things on the right side than on the wrong, and thus

maintained a favorable opinion of my widow. We had agreed at parting

to meet again on the day after the morrow; and the hope of arriving

at the summit of my wishes gave me a foretaste of the pleasures with

which I tickled my fancy.

With my brain full of joyous traces, I returned to my barber. Having

changed my dress, I went to attend my master at the tennis-court. I

found him at play, and saw that he won; for he was not one of those

impenetrable gamesters who make or mar a fortune without moving a

muscle. In prosperity he was flippant and overbearing, but quite

peevish on the losing side. He left the tennis-court in high

spirits, and went for the _Princes Theatre_. I followed him to the

box-door, then putting a ducat into my hand: Here, Gil Blas, said he,

as I have been a winner to-day, you shall not be the worse for it;

go, divert yourself with your friends, and come to me about midnight

at Arsenia's, where I am to sup with Don Alexo Segiar. He then went

in, and I stood debating with whom I should disburse my ducat,

according to the pious will of the founder. I did not muse long.

Clarin, Don Alexo's servant, just then came in my way, I took him to

the next tavern, and we amused ourselves there till midnight. Thence

we repaired to Arsenia's house, where Clarin had orders to attend. A

little footboy opened the door, and showed us into a room down

stairs, where Arsenia's waiting-woman, and the lady who held the same

office about Florimonde, were laughing ready to split their sides,

while their mistresses were above stairs with our masters.

The addition of two jolly fellows just come from a good supper, could

not be unwelcome to abigails, and to the abigails of actresses too;

but what was my astonishment when in one of these lowly ladies I

discovered my widow--my adorable widow--whom I took for a countess or

a marchioness! She appeared equally amazed to see her dear Don Cæsar

de Ribera metamorphosed into the valet of a beau. However, we looked

at one another without being out of countenance; indeed, such a

tingling sensation of laughter came over us both, as we could not

help indulging in. After which Laura, for that was her name, drawing

me aside while Clarin was speaking to her fellow-servant, held out

her hand to me very kindly, and said in a low voice: Accept this

pledge, Signor Don Cæsar; mutual congratulations are more to the

purpose than mutual reproaches, my friend. You topped your part to

perfection, and I was not quite contemptible in mine. What say you?

confess now, did not you take me for one of those precious peeresses

who are fond of a little smuggled amusement? It is even so, answered

I, but whoever you are, my empress, I have not changed my sentiments

with my paraphernalia. Accept my services in good part, and let the

valet-de-chamber of Don Matthias consummate what Don Cæsar has so

happily begun. Get you gone, replied she, I like you ten times

better in your natural than in your artificial character. You are as

a man what I am as a woman, and that is the greatest compliment I can

pay you. You are admitted into the number of my adorers. We have no

longer any need of the old woman as a blind, you may come and see me

whenever you like. We theatrical ladies are no slaves to form, but

live higgledy piggledy with the men. I allow that the effects are

sometimes visible, but the public wink hard at our irregularities;

the drama's patrons, as you well know, give the drama's laws, and

absolve us from all others.

We went no further, because there were bystanders. The conversation

became general, lively, jovial, inclining to loose jokes, not very

carefully wrapped up. We all of us bore a bob. Arsenia's attendant

above all, my amiable Laura, was very conspicuous; but her wit was so

extremely nimble, that her virtue could never overtake it. Our

masters and the actresses on the floor above, raised incessant peals

of laughter, which reached us in the regions below; and probably the

entertainment was much alike with the celestials and the infernals.

If all the knowing remarks had been written down, which escaped from

the philosophers that night assembled at Arsenia's, I really think it

would have been a manual for the rising generation. Yet we could not

arrest the chaste moon in her progress; the rising of that blab, the

sun, parted us. Clarin followed the heels of Don Alexo, and I went

home with Don Matthias.

_CHAPTER VI._

_THE PRINCE'S COMPANY OF COMEDIANS._

My master getting up the next day, received a note from Don Alexo

Segiar, desiring his company immediately. We went, and found there

the Marquis de Zenette, and another young nobleman of prepossessing

manners, whom I had never seen. Don Matthias, said Segiar to my

protector, introducing the stranger, give me leave to present Don

Pompeyo de Castro, a relation of mine. He has been at the court of

Portugal almost from his childhood. He reached Madrid last night,

and returns to Lisbon to-morrow. He can allow me only one day. I

wish to make the most of the precious moments, and thought of asking

you and the Marquis de Zenette to make out the time agreeably.

Thereupon, my master and Don Alexo's relation embraced heartily, and

complimented one another in the most extravagant manner. I was much

pleased with Don Pompeyo's conversation, it showed both acuteness and

solidity.

They dined with Segiar; and the gentlemen, after the dessert, amused

themselves at play till the theatre opened. Then they went all

together to the _Prince's House_, to see a new tragedy, called _The

Queen of Carthage_. At the end of the piece they returned to supper,

and their conversation ran first on the composition, then upon the

actors. As for the work, cried Don Matthias, I think very lightly of

it. Eneas is a more pious blockhead there than in the Eneid. But it

must be owned that the piece was played divinely. What does Signor

Don Pompeyo think of it? He does not seem to agree with me.

Gentlemen, said the illustrious stranger with a smile, you are so

enraptured with your actors, and still more with your actresses, that

I scarcely dare avow my dissent. That is very prudent, interrupted

Don Alexo with a sneer; your criticisms would be ill received. You

should be tender of our actresses before the trumpeters of their

fame. We carouse with them every day, we warrant them sound in their

conceptions: we would give vouchers for the justness of their

expression if it were necessary. No doubt of it, answered his

kinsman, you would do the same kind office by their lives and their

manners, from the same motives of companionable feeling.

Your ladies of the sock and buskin at Lisbon, said the Marquis de

Zenette, are doubtless far superior? They certainly are, replied Don

Pompeyo. They are some of them at least perfect in their cast. And

these, resumed the Marquis, would be warranted by you in their

conceptions and expressions? I have no personal acquaintance with

them, rejoined Don Pompeyo. I am not of their revels, and can judge

of their merit without partiality. Do you, in good earnest, think

your company first-rate? No, really, said the Marquis, I think no

such thing, and only plead the cause of a few individuals. I give up

all the rest. Will you not allow extraordinary powers to the actress

who played Dido? Did she not personate that queen with the dignity,

and at the same time with all the bewitching charms, calculated to

realize our idea of the character? Could you help admiring the skill

with which she seizes on the passions of the spectator, and

harmonizes their tone to the vibrations she purposes to produce? She

may be called perfect in the exquisite art of declaiming. I agree

with you, said Don Pompeyo, that she can touch the string either of

terror or of pity: never did any actress come closer to the heart,

and the performance is altogether fine; but still she is not without

her defects. Two or three things disgusted me in her playing. Would

she denote surprise? she glances her eyes to and fro in a most

extravagant manner, altogether unbecoming her supposed majesty as a

princess. Add to this, that in swelling her voice, which is of

itself sound and mellifluous, she goes out of her natural key, and

assumes a harsh, ranting tone. Besides, it should seem as if she

might be suspected, in more than one passage, of not very clearly

comprehending her author. Yet I would in candor rather suppose her

wanting in diligence than capacity.

As far as I see, said Don Matthias to the critic, you will never

write complimentary odes to our actresses! Pardon me, answered Don

Pompeyo. I can discover high talent through all their imperfections.

I must say that I was enchanted with the chambermaid in the

interlude. What fine natural parts! With what grace she treads the

stage! Has she anything pointed to deliver? she heightens it by an

arch smile, with a keen glance and sarcastic emphasis, which convey

more to the understanding than the words to the ear. It might be

objected that she sometimes gives too much scope to her animal

spirits, and exceeds the limits of allowable freedom, but that would

be hypercritical. There is one bad habit I should strongly advise

her to correct. Sometimes in the very crisis of the action, and in

an affecting passage, she bursts in all at once upon the interest

with some misplaced jest, to curry favor with the mob of barren

spectators. The pit, you will say, is caught by her artifice; that

may be well for her popularity, but not for their taste.

And what do you think of the men? interrupted the Marquis; you must

give them no quarter, since you have handled the women so roughly.

Not so, said Don Pompeyo. There are some promising young actors, and

I am particularly well pleased with that corpulent performer who

played the part of Dido's prime minister. His recitation is

unaffected, and he declaims just as they do in Portugal. If you can

bear such a fellow as that, said Segiar, you must be charmed with the

representative of Eneas. Did not you think him a great, an original

performer! Very original, indeed, answered the critic; his

inflections are quite his own, they are as shrill as a hautboy.

Almost always out of nature, he rattles the impressive words of the

sentence off his tongue, while he labors and lingers on the

expletives; the poor conjunctions are frightened at their own report

as they go off. He entertained me excessively, and especially when

he was expressing in confidence his distress at abandoning the

princess: never was grief more ludicrously depicted. Fair and

softly, cousin, replied Don Alexo; you will make us believe at last

that good taste is not greatly cultivated at the court of Portugal.

Do you know that the actor of whom we are speaking is esteemed a

phenomenon? Did you not observe what thunders of applause he called

down? He cannot therefore be contemptible. That therefore does not

prove the proposition, replied Don Pompeyo. But, gentlemen, let us

lay aside, I beseech you, the injudicious suffrages of the pit; they

are often given to performers very unseasonably. Indeed, their

boisterous tokens of approbation are more frequently bestowed on

paltry copies than an original merit, as Phedrus teaches us by an

ingenious fable. Allow me to repeat it as follows:--

The whole population of a city was assembled in a large square to see

a pantomime played. Among the performers there was one whose feats

were applauded every instant. This buffoon, at the end of the

entertainment, wished to close the scene with a new device. He came

alone upon the stage, stooping down, covering his head with his

mantle, and began counterfeiting the squeak of a pig. He acquitted

himself so naturally as to be suspected of having the animal itself

concealed within the folds of his drapery. He stripped, but there

was no pig. The assembly rang with more furious applause than ever.

A peasant, among the spectators, was disgusted at this misplaced

admiration. Gentlemen, exclaimed he, you are in the wrong to be so

delighted with this buffoon; he is not so good a mimic as you take

him for. I can enact the pig better; if you doubt it, only attend

here this time to-morrow. The people, prejudiced in the cause of

their favorite, collected in greater numbers on the next day, rather

to hiss the countryman than to see what he could do. The rivals

appeared on the stage. The buffoon began, and was more applauded

than the day before. Then the farmer, stooping down in his turn,

with his head wrapped up in his cloak, pulled the ear of a real pig

under his arm, and made it squeal most horribly. Yet this

enlightened audience persisted in giving the preference to their

favorite, and hooted the countryman off the boards; who, producing

the pig before he went, said, Gentlemen, you are not hissing me, but

the original pig. So much for your judgment.

Cousin, said Don Alexo, your fable is rather satirical.

Nevertheless, in spite of your pig, we will not bate an inch of our

opinion. But let us change the subject, this is grown threadbare.

Then you set off to-morrow, do what we can to keep you with us

longer? I should like, answered his kinsman, to protract my stay

with you, but it is not in my power. I have told you already that I

am come to the court of Spain on an affair of state. Yesterday, on

my arrival, I had a conference with the prime minister; I am to see

him to-morrow morning, and shall set out immediately afterwards on my

return to Lisbon. You are become quite a Portuguese, observed

Segiar, and to all appearance, we shall lose you entirely from

Madrid. I think otherwise, replied Don Pompeyo, I have the honor to

stand well with the King of Portugal, and have many motives of

attachment to that court; yet with all the kindness that sovereign

has testified towards me, would you believe that I have been on the

point of quitting his dominions forever. Indeed! by what strange

accident? said the marquis. Give us the history, I beseech you.

Very readily, answered Don Pompeyo, and at the same time my own, for

it is closely interwoven with the recital for which you have called.

_CHAPTER VII._

_HISTORY OF DON POMPEYO DE CASTRO._

Don Alexo knows, that from my boyish days, my passion was for a

military life. Our own country being at peace, I went into Portugal;

thence to Africa with the Duke of Braganza, who gave me a commission.

I was a younger brother, with as slender a provision as most in

Spain; so that my only chance was in attracting the notice of the

commander-in-chief by my bravery. I was so far from deficient in my

duty, that the duke promoted me, step by step, to one of the most

honorable posts in the service. After a long war, of which you all

know the issue, I devoted myself to the court; and the king, on

strong testimonials from the general officers, rewarded me with a

considerable pension. Alive to that sovereign's generosity, I lost

no opportunity of proving my gratitude by my diligence. I was in

attendance as often as etiquette would allow me to offer myself to

his notice. By this conduct I gained insensibly the love of that

prince, and received new favors from his hands.

One day, when I distinguished myself in running at the ring, and in a

bull-fight preceding it, all the court extolled my strength and

dexterity. On my return home, with my honors thick upon me, I found

there a note, informing me that a lady, my conquest over whom ought

to flatter me more than all the glory I had gained that day, wished

to have the pleasure of my company; and that I had only to attend in

the evening, at a place marked out in the letter. This was more than

all my public triumphs, and I concluded the writer to be a woman of

the first quality. You may guess that I did not loiter by the way.

An old woman in waiting, as my guide, conducted me by a little

garden-gate into a large house, and left me in an elegant closet,

saying, Stay here, I will acquaint my mistress with your arrival. I

observed a great many articles of value in the closet, which was

magnificently illuminated; but this splendor only caught my attention

as confirming me in my previous opinion of the lady's high rank. If

appearances strengthened that conjecture, her noble and majestic air

on her entrance left no doubt on my mind. Yet I was a little out in

my calculation.

Noble sir, said she, after the step I have taken in your favor it

were impertinent to disown my partiality. Your brilliant actions of

to-day, in presence of the court, were not the inspirers of my

sentiments; they only urge forward this avowal. I have seen you more

than once, have inquired into your character, and the result has

determined me to follow the impulse of my heart. But do not suppose

that you are well with a duchess. I am but the widow of a captain in

the King's Guards; yet there is something to throw a radiance round

your victory .... the preference you have gained over one of the

first noblemen in the kingdom. The Duke d'Almeyda loves me, and

presses his suit with ardor, yet without success. My vanity only

induces me to bear his importunities.

Though I saw plainly, by this address, that I had got in with a

coquette, my presiding star was not a whit out of my good graces for

involving me in this adventure. Donna Hortensia, for that was the

lady's name, was just in the ripeness and luxuriance of youth and

dazzling beauty. Nay, more, she had refused the possession of her

heart to the earnest entreaties of a duke, and offered it unsolicited

to me.

What a feather in the cap of a Spanish cavalier! I prostrated myself

at Hortensia's feet, to thank her for her favors. I talked just as a

man of gallantry always does talk, and she had reason to be satisfied

with the extravagance of my acknowledgments. Thus we parted the best

friends in the world, on the terms of meeting every evening when the

Duke d'Almeyda was prevented from coming; and she promised to give me

due notice of his absence. The bargain was exactly fulfilled, and I

was turned into the Adonis of this new Venus.

But the pleasures of this life are transitory. With all the lady's

precautions to conceal our private treaty of commerce from my rival,

he found means of gaining a knowledge, of which it concerned us

greatly to keep him ignorant: a disloyal chamber-maid divulged the

state secret. This nobleman, naturally generous, but proud,

self-sufficient, and violent, was exasperated at my presumption.

Anger and jealousy set him beside himself. Taking counsel only with

his rage, he resolved on an infamous revenge. One night when I was

with Hortensia, he waylaid me at the little garden gate, with all his

servants provided with cudgels. As soon as I came out, he ordered me

to be seized, and beat to death by these wretches. Lay on, said he,

let the rash intruder give up the ghost under your chastisement; thus

shall his insolence be punished. No sooner had he finished these

words, than his myrmidons assaulted me in a body, and gave me such a

beating, as to stretch me senseless on the ground: after which they

hurried off with their master, to whom this butchery had been a

delicious pastime. I lay the remainder of the night, just as they

had left me. At day-break, some people passed by, who, finding that

life was still in me, had the humanity to carry me to a surgeon.

Fortunately my wounds were not mortal; and, falling into skilful

hands, I was perfectly cured in two months. At the end of that

period I made my appearance again at court, and resumed my former way

of life, except that I steered clear of Hortensia, who on her part

made no further attempt to renew the acquaintance, because the duke,

on that condition, had pardoned her infidelity.

As my adventure was the town talk, and I was known to be no coward,

people were astonished to see me as quiet as if I had received no

affront; for I kept my thoughts to myself, and seemed to have no

quarrel with any man living. No one knew what to think of my

counterfeited insensibility. Some imagined that, in spite of my

courage, the rank of the aggressor overawed me, and occasioned my

tacit submission. Others, with more reason, mistrusted my silence,

and considered my offensive demeanor as a cover to my revenge. The

king was of opinion with these last, that I was not a man to put up

with an insult, and that I should not be wanting to myself at a

convenient opportunity. To discover my real intentions, he sent for

me one day into his closet, where he said: Don Pompeyo, I know what

accident has befallen you, and am surprised, I own, at your

forbearance. You are certainly acting a part. Sire, answered I, how

can I know whom to challenge? I was attacked in the night by persons

unknown: it is a misfortune of which I must make the best. No, no,

replied the king, I am not to be duped by these evasive answers. The

whole story has reached my ears. The Duke d'Almeyda has touched your

honor to the quick. You are nobly born, and a Castilian: I know what

that double character requires. You cherish hostile designs. Admit

me a party to your purposes; it must be so. Never fear the

consequences of making me your confidant.

Since your majesty commands it, resumed I, my sentiments shall be

laid open without reserve. Yes, sir, I meditate a severe

retribution. Every man, wearing such a name as mine, must account

for its untarnished lustre with his family. You know the unworthy

treatment I have experienced; and I purpose assassinating the Duke

d'Almeyda, as a mode of revenge corresponding to the injury. I shall

plunge a dagger in his bosom, or shoot him through the head, and

escape, if I can, into Spain. This is my design.

It is violent, said the king: and yet I have little to say against

it, after the provocation which the Duke d'Almeyda has given you. He

is worthy of the punishment you destine for him. But do not be in a

hurry with your project. Leave me to devise a method of bringing you

together again as friends. O! sir, exclaimed I with vexation, why

did you extort my secret from me? What expedient can ... If mine is

not to your satisfaction, interrupted he, you may execute your first

intention. I do not mean to abuse your confidence. I shall not

implicate your honor; so rest contented on that head. I was greatly

puzzled to guess by what means the king designed to terminate this

affair amicably: but thus it was. He sent to speak with the Duke

d'Almeyda in private. Duke, said he, you have insulted Don Pompeyo

de Castro. You are not ignorant that he is a man of noble birth, a

soldier who has served with credit, and stands high in my favor. You

owe him reparation. I am not of a temper to refuse it, answered the

Duke. If he complains of my outrageous behavior, I am ready to

justify it by the law of arms. Something very different must be

done, replied the king: a Spanish gentleman understands the point of

honor too well, to fight on equal terms with a cowardly assassin. I

can use no milder term; and you can only atone for the heinousness of

your conduct, by presenting a cane in person to your antagonist, and

offering to submit yourself to its discipline. O Heaven! exclaimed

the duke: what! sir, would you have a man of my rank degrade, debase,

himself before a simple gentleman, and submit to be caned! No,

replied the monarch, I will oblige Don Pompeyo to promise not to

touch you. Only offer him the cane, and ask his pardon: that is all

I require from you. And that is too much, sir, interrupted the Duke

d'Almeyda warmly: I had rather remain exposed to all the secret

machinations of his resentment. Your life is dear to me, said the

king; and I should wish this affair to have no bad consequences. To

terminate it with less disgust to yourself, I will be the only

witness of the satisfaction which I order you to offer to the

Spaniard.

The king was obliged to stretch his influence over the duke to the

utmost, before he could induce him to so mortifying a step. However,

the peremptory monarch effected his purpose, and then sent for me.

He related the particulars of his conversation with my enemy, and

enquired if I should be content with the stipulated reparation. I

answered, Yes; and gave my word that, far from striking the offender,

I would not even accept the cane when he presented it. With this

understanding, the duke and myself at a certain hour attended the

king, who took us into his closet. Come, said he to the duke,

knowledge your fault, and deserve to be forgiven by the humility of

your contrition. Then my antagonist made his apology, and offered me

the cane in his hand. Don Pompeyo, said the monarch unexpectedly,

take the cane, and let not my presence prevent you from doing justice

to your outraged honor. I release you from your promise not to

strike the duke. No, sir, answered I, it is enough that he has

submitted to the indignity of the offer: an offended Spaniard asks no

more. Well then, replied the king, since you are content with this

satisfaction, you may both of you at once assume the privilege of a

gentlemanly quarrel. Measure your swords, and disease the question

honorably. It is what I most ardently desire, exclaimed the Duke

d'Almeyda in a menacing tone; for that only is competent to make me

amends for the disgraceful step I have taken.

With these words, he went away, full of rage and shame; and sent to

tell me two hours after, that he was waiting for me in a retired

place. I kept the appointment, and found this nobleman ready to

fight lustily. He was not five and forty; deficient, neither in

courage nor in skill: so that the match was fair and equal. Come on,

Don Pompeyo! said he; let us terminate our difference here. Our

hostility ought to be reciprocally mortal; yours, for my aggression,

and mine, for having asked your pardon. These words were no sooner

out of his mouth, than he drew upon me so suddenly that I had no time

to reply. He pressed very closely upon me at first, but I had the

good fortune to put by all his thrusts. I acted on the offensive, in

my turn: the encounter was evidently with a man equally skilled in

defence or in attack; and there is no knowing what might have been

the issue, if he had not made a false step in retiring, and fallen

backwards. I stood still immediately, and said to the duke, Recover

yourself. Why give me any quarter? he answered. Your forbearance

only aggravates my disgrace. I will not take advantage of an

accident, replied I; it would only tarnish my glory. Once more

recover yourself, and let us fight it out.

Don Pompeyo, said he, rising, after this act of generosity, honor

allows me not to renew the attack upon you. What would the world say

of me, were I to wound you mortally? I should be branded as a coward

for having murdered a man, at whose mercy I had just before lain

prostrate. I cannot, therefore, again lift my arm against your life,

and I feel my resentful passions subsiding into the sweet emotions of

gratitude. Don Pompeyo, let us mutually lay aside our hatred. Let

us go still further; let us be friends. Ah! my lord, exclaimed I, so

flattering a proposal I joyfully accept. I proffer you my sincere

friendship; and, as an earnest, promise never more to approach Donna

Hortensia, though she herself should invite me. It is my duty, said

he, to yield that lady to you. Justice requires me to give her up,

since her affections are yours already. No, no, interrupted I: you

love her. Her partiality in my favor would give you uneasiness; I

sacrifice my own pleasure to your peace. Ah! too generous Castilian,

replied the duke, embracing me; your sentiments are truly noble.

With what remorse do they strike me! Grieved and ashamed, I look

back on the outrage you have sustained. The reparation in the king's

chamber seems now too trifling. A better recompense awaits you. To

obliterate all remembrance of your shame, take one of my nieces,

whose hand is at my disposal. She is a rich heiress, not fifteen,

with beauty beyond the attractions of mere youth.

I made my acknowledgements to the duke in terms such as the high

honor of his alliance might suggest, and married his niece a few days

afterwards. All the court complimented this nobleman on having made

such generous amends to an insulted rival; and my friends took part

in my joy at the happy issue of an adventure which might have led to

the most melancholy consequences. From this time, gentlemen, I have

lived happily at Lisbon. I am the idol of my wife, and have not sunk

the lover in the husband. The Duke d'Almeyda gives me new proofs of

friendship every day; and I may venture to boast of standing high in

the King of Portugal's good graces. The importance of my errand

hither sufficiently assures me of his confidence.

_CHAPTER VIII._

_AN ACCIDENT, IN CONSEQUENCE OF WHICH GIL BLAS WAS OBLIGED TO LOOK

OUT FOR ANOTHER PLACE._

Such was Don Pompeyo's story, which Don Alexo's servant and myself

overheard, though we were prudently sent away before he began his

recital. Instead of withdrawing, we skulked behind the door, which

we had left half open, and from that station we did not miss a word.

After this, the company went on drinking; but they did not prolong

their carousals till the morning, because Don Pompeyo, who was to

speak with the prime minister, wished for a little rest beforehand.

The Marquis de Zenette, and my master took a cordial leave of the

stranger, and left him with his kinsman.

We went to bed, for once, before daybreak; and Don Matthias, when he

awoke, invested me with a new office. Gil Blas, said he, take pen,

ink, and paper, and write two or three letters, as I shall dictate:

you shall, henceforth, be my secretary. Well and good! said I to

myself--a plurality of functions. As footman, I follow my master's

heels; as valet-de-chambre, I help him to dress; and write for him,

as his secretary. Heaven be praised, for my apotheosis! Like the

triple Hecate of the Pantheon, I am to enact three different

characters at the same time. Can you guess my intention? continued

he. Thus it is: but take care what you are about; your life may

depend on it. As I am continually meeting with fellows who boast of

their success among the women, I mean by way of getting the upper

hand, to fill my pockets with fictitious love-letters, and read them

in company. It will be amusing enough. Happier than my competitors,

who make conquests only for the pleasure of the boast, I shall take

the credit of intrigue, and spare myself the labor. But vary your

writing, so that the manufacture may not be detected by the sameness

of the hand.

I then sat down, to comply with the command of Don Matthias, who

first dictated a tender epistle to this tune: _You did not keep your

promise to-night. Ah! Don Matthias, how will you exculpate

yourself? My error was a cruel one! But you punish me deservedly

for my vanity, in fancying that business and amusement were all to

give way before the pleasure of seeing Donna Clara de Mendoza!_

After this pretty note, he made me write another, as if from a lady,

who sacrificed a prince to him; and then a third, whose fair writer

offered, if she could rely on his discretion, to embark with him for

the shores of Cytherean enchantment. It was not enough to dictate

these love-sick strains; he forced me to subscribe them, with the

most high-flying names in Madrid. I could not forbear hinting at

some little hazard in all this, but he begged me to keep my sage

counsels, till they were called for. I was obliged to hold my

tongue, and dispatch his orders out of hand. That done, he got up

and dressed, with my assistance. The letters were put into his

pocket, and out he went. I followed him to dinner, with Don Juan de

Moncade, who entertained five or six gentlemen of his acquaintance

that day.

There was a grand set-out, and mirth, the best relish, was not

wanting to the banquet. All the guests contributed to enliven the

conversation, some by wit and humor, others by anecdotes, of which

the relaters were the heroes. My master would not lose so fine an

opportunity of bringing our joint performances to bear. He read them

audibly, and with so much assurance, that probably the whole party

with the exception of his secretary, was taken in by the device.

Among the company, before whom this trick was impudently played off,

there was one person, by name Don Lope de Velasco. This person, a

very grave don, instead of making himself merry, like the rest, with

the fictitious triumphs of the reader, asked him coolly if the

conquest of Donna Clara had been achieved with any great difficulty?

Less than the least, answered Don Matthias; the advances were all on

her side. She saw me in public, and took a fancy to my person. A

scout was commissioned to follow me, and thus she got at my name and

condition. She wrote to me, and gave me an appointment, at an hour

of the night, when the house was sure to be quiet. I was true as the

needle to the pole; her bed-chamber was the place.... But prudence

and delicacy forbid my describing what passed there.

At this instance of tender regard for the lady's character, Signor de

Velasco betrayed some very passionate workings, in his countenance.

It was easy to see the interest he took in the subject. All these

letters, said he to my master, looking at him with an eye of

indignation and contempt, are infamous forgeries; and, above all,

that which you boast of having received from Donna Clara de Mendoza.

There is not, in all Spain, a more modest young creature than

herself. For these two years, a gentleman, at least your equal in

birth and personal merit, has been trying every method of insinuating

himself into her heart. Scarcely have his assiduities extorted the

slightest encouragement; but yet he may flatter himself that, if

anything beyond common civility had been granted at all, it would

have been to him only. Well, who says to the contrary? interrupted

Don Matthias, in a bantering way. I agree with you, that the lady is

a very pretty-behaved young lady. On my part, I am a very

pretty-behaved young gentleman. Ergo, you may rest assured that

nothing took place between us but what was pretty and well-behaved.

Indeed! This is too much, interrupted Don Lope, in his turn; let us

lay aside this unseasonable jesting. You are an impostor. Donna

Clara never gave you an appointment by night. Her reputation shall

not be blackened by your ribaldry. But prudence and delicacy forbid

my describing what must pass between you and me. With this retort on

his lips, he looked contemptuously round, and withdrew with a

menacing aspect, which anticipated serious consequences, to my

judgment. My master, whose courage was better than his cause, held

the threats of Don Lope in derision. A blockhead! exclaimed he,

bursting into a loud fit of laughter. Our knights-errant used to

tilt for the beauty of their mistresses; this fellow would engage in

the lists, for the forlorn hope of virtue in his; he is more

ridiculous than his prototypes.

Velasco's retiring, in vain opposed by Moncade, occasioned no

interruption to the merriment. The party, without thinking further

about it, kept the ball up briskly, and did not part till they had

made free with the next day. We went to bed, that is, my master and

myself, about five o'clock in the morning. Sleep sat heavy on my

eyelids, and, as I thought, was taking permanent possession thereof;

but I reckoned without my host, or rather without our porter, who

came and waked me in an hour, to say that there was a lad inquiring

for me at the door. O, thou infernal porter! muttered I,

indistinctly, through the interstices of a long yawn; do you consider

that I have but now got to bed? Tell the little rascal that I am

just asleep; he must come again, by-and-by. He insists, replied

Cerberus, on speaking with you instantly; his business cannot wait.

As that was the case, I got up, put on nothing but my breeches and

doublet, and went down stairs, swearing and gaping. My friend, said

I, be so good as to let me know what urgent affair procures me the

honor of seeing you so early? I have a letter, answered he, to

deliver personally into the hands of Signor Don Matthias, to be read

by him without loss of time; it is of the last consequence to him;

pray, show me into his room. As I thought the matter looked serious,

I took the liberty of disturbing my master. Excuse me, said I, for

waking you, but the pressing nature.... What do you want?

interrupted he, just in my style, with the porter. Sir, said the

lad, who was at my elbow, here is a letter from Don Lope de Velasco.

Don Matthias looked at the cover, broke it, and, after reading the

contents, said to the messenger of Don Lope, My good fellow, I never

get up before noon, let the party be ever so agreeable; judge whether

I can be expected to be stirring by six in the morning for a

small-sword recreation. You may tell your master, that, if he

chooses to kick his heels at the spot till half past twelve, we will

come and see how he looks there; carry him that answer. With this

flippant speech, he plunged down snugly under the bed-clothes, and

fell fast asleep again, as if nothing had happened.

[Illustration: Duel between Don Matthias and Don Lope de Velasco]

Between eleven and twelve, he got up and dressed himself, with the

utmost composure, and went out, telling me that there was no occasion

for my attendance; but I was too much on the tenterhooks about the

result to mind his orders. I sneaked after him, to Saint Jerome's

meadow, where I saw Don Lope de Velasco waiting for him. I took my

station to watch them; and was an eye-witness to all the

circumstances of their rencounter. They saluted, and began their

fierce debate without delay. The engagement lasted long. They

exchanged thrusts alternately, with equal skill and mettle. The

victory, however, was on the side of Don Lope; he ran my master

through, laid him helpless on the ground, and made his escape, with

apparent satisfaction at the severe reprisal. I ran up to the

unfortunate Don Matthias, and found him in a most desperate

situation. The sight melted me. I could not help weeping at a

catastrophe to which I had been an involuntary contributor.

Nevertheless, with all sympathy, I had still my little wits about me.

Home went I, in a hurry, without saying a word. I made up a bundle

of my own goods and chattels, inadvertently slipping in some odd

articles, belonging to my master: and when I had deposited this with

the barber, where my dress, as a fine gentleman, was still lodged, I

published the news of the fatal accident. Any gaper might have it

for the trouble of listening; and, above all, I took care to make

Rodriguez acquainted with it. He would have been extremely

afflicted, but that his own proceedings in this delicate case

required all his attention. He called the servants together, ordered

them to follow him, and we went all together, to Saint Jerome's

meadow. Don Matthias was taken up alive, but he died three hours

after he was brought home. Thus ended the life of Signor Don

Matthias de Silva, only for having taken a fancy to reading

supposititious love-letters unseasonably.

_CHAPTER IX._

_A NEW SERVICE AFTER THE DEATH OF DON MATTHIAS DE SILVA._

Some days after the funeral, the establishment was paid up and

discharged. I fixed my headquarters with the little barber, in a

very close connection, with whom I began to live. It seemed to

promise more pleasure than with Melendez. As I was in no want of

money, it was time enough to think of another place; besides, I had

got to be rather nice on that head. I would not go into service any

more, but in families above the vulgar. In short, I was determined

to inquire, very strictly, into the character of a new place. The

best would not be too good; such high pretensions did the late valet

of a young nobleman think himself entitled to assume above the common

herd of servants.

Waiting till fortune should throw a situation in my way, worthy to be

honored by my acceptance, I thought I could not do better than to

devote my leisure to my charming Laura, whom I had not seen since the

pleasant occurrence of our double discovery. I could not venture on

dressing as Don Cæsar de Ribera; it would have been an act of madness

to have assumed that style but as a disguise. Besides that, my own

suit was not much out of condition; all smaller articles had

propagated miraculously in the aforesaid bundle. I made myself up,

therefore, with the barber's aid, as a sort of middle man, between

Don Cæsar and Gil Blas. In this demi-character, I knocked at

Arsenia's door. Laura was alone in the parlor where we had met last.

Ah! is it you, cried she, as soon as she saw me; I thought you were

lost. You have had leave to come and see me for this week; but it

seems you are modest, and do not presume too much on your license.

I made my apology on the score of my master's death, with my own

engagements consequent thereupon; and I added, in the spirit of

gallantry, that in my greatest perplexities my lovely Laura had

always been foremost in my thoughts. That being so, said she, I have

no more reproaches to make; and I will frankly own that I have

thought of you. As soon as I was acquainted with the untimely end of

Don Matthias, a plan occurred to me, probably not quite displeasing

to you. I have heard my mistress say, some time ago, that she wanted

a sort of man of business--a good arithmetician--to keep an exact

account of our outgoings. I fixed my affections on your lordship;

you seem exactly calculated for such an office. I feel myself,

answered I, a steward by inspiration. I have read all that Aristotle

has written on finance; and, as for reducing it to the modern system

of book-keeping.... But, my dear girl, there is one impediment in

the way. What impediment? said Laura. I have sworn, replied I,

never again to live with a commoner; I have sworn by Styx, or

something else as binding. If Jupiter could not burst the links of

such an oath, judge whether a poor servant ought not to be bound by

it. What do you mean by a commoner? rejoined the impetuous abigail;

for what do you take us actresses? Do you take us for the ribs of

the limbs of the law! for attorney's wives? I would have you to

know, my friend, that actresses rank with the first nobility; being

only common to the uncommon, and, therefore, though common,

uncommonly illustrious.

On that footing, my uncommon commoner, said I, the post you have

destined for me is mine; I shall not lower my dignity by accepting

it. No; to be sure, said she; backwards and forwards between a puppy

of fashion, and a she-wolf of the stage; why, it is exactly

preserving an equilibrium of rank in the creation. We are

sympathetic animals, just on a level with the people of quality. We

have our equipages in the same style; we give our little suppers on

the same scale; and, on the broad ground, we are just of as much use

in civil society. In fact, to draw a parallel between a marquis and

a player through the space of four and twenty hours, they are just on

a par. The marquis, for three fourths of the time, ranks above the

player by political courtesy and sufferance; the player, during his

hour on the stage, overtops the marquis in the part of an emperor or

a king, which he better knows how to enact. Thus, there seems to be

a balance between natural and political nobility, which places us at

least on a level with the live lumber of the court. 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

dishabille, and her polished hands were elegantly busy about a new

head-dress 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.

_CHAPTER X_

_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 long face, interrupted she with a laugh.

What! That is your trouble is it? Why really! You are a very silly

swain; but you will get better notions among us. You will fall by

degrees into our easy manners. No jealousy, my dear creature; you

will be completely laughed out of it in the theatrical world. The

passion is scarcely known there. Fathers, husbands, brothers,

uncles, and cousins, are all upon a liberal plan of community, and

often make a strange jumble of relationships.

After having warned me to take no umbrage, but to look at everything

like a philosophical spectator, she vowed that I was the happy mortal

who had found the way to her heart. She then declared that she

should love me always, and only me. On this assurance, which a man

might have doubted without criminal scepticism, I promised her not to

be alarmed any more, and kept my word. I saw her, on that very

evening, whisper and giggle with more men than one. At the end of

the play we returned home with our mistress, whither Florimonde came

soon after to supper, with three old noblemen and a player. Besides

Laura and myself, the establishment consisted of a cook-maid, a

coachman, and a little footboy. We all labored in our respective

vocations. The lady of the frying-pan, no less an adept than dame

Jacintha, was assisted in her cookery by the coachman. The

waiting-woman and the little footboy laid the cloth, and I set out

the sideboard, magnificently furnished with plate, offered up at the

shrine of our green-room goddess. There was every variety of wines,

and I played the cup-bearer, to show my mistress the versatility of

my talents. I sweated at the impudence of the actresses during

supper; they gave themselves quality airs, and affected the tone of

high life. Far from giving their guests all their style and titles,

they did not even vouchsafe a simple "Your lordship," but called them

familiarly by their proper names. To be sure, the old fools

encouraged their vanity by forgetting their own distance. The

player, for his part, in the habits of the heroic cast, lived on

equal terms with them; he challenged them to drink, and in every

respect took the upper hand. In good truth, said I to myself, while

Laura was demonstrating the equality of the marquis and the comedian

during the day, she might have drawn a still stronger inference for

the night, since they pass it so merrily in drinking together.

Arsenia and Florimonde were naturally frolicsome. A thousand broad

hints escaped them, intermingled with small favors, and then a

coquettish revolt at their own freedom, which were all seasoned

exactly to the taste of these old sinners. While my mistress was

entertaining one of them with a little harmless toying, her friend,

between the other elders, had not taken the cue of Susanna. While I

was contemplating this picture, which had but too many attractions

for a knowing youth like me, the dessert was brought in. Then I set

the bottles and glasses on the table, and made my escape to sup with

Laura, who was waiting for me. How now, Gil Blas, said she, what do

you think of those noblemen above stairs? Doubtless, answered I,

they are deeply smitten with Arsenia and Florimonde. No, replied

she, they are old sensualists, who hang about our sex without any

particular attachment. All they ask is some little frivolous

compliance, and they are generous enough to pay well for the least

trifle of amorous endearment. Heaven be praised! Florimonde and my

mistress are at present without any serious engagements; I mean that

they have no husband-like lovers, who expect to engross all the

pleasures of a house, because they stand to the expenses. For my

part, I am very glad of it: and maintain that a sensible woman of the

world ought to refuse all such monopolies. Why take a master? It is

better to support an establishment by retail trade, than to confine

one's self to chamber practice on such terms.

When Laura's tongue was wound up,--and it was seldom down,--words

seemed to cost her nothing. What a glorious volubility! She told a

thousand stories of the actresses belonging to the prince's company;

and I gathered from her whole drift that I could not be better

situated to take a scientific view of the cardinal vices.

Unfortunately, I was at an age when they inspire but little horror;

and this abigail had the art of coloring her corruptions so

lusciously, as to hide their deformities, and heighten their

meretricious lure. She had not time to open the tenth part of her

theatrical budget, for she did not talk more than three hours. The

senators and the player went away with Florimonde, whom they saw safe

home.

When they were gone, my mistress said to me: Here, Gil Blas, are ten

pistoles to go to market to-morrow. Five or six of our gentlemen and

ladies are to dine here, take care that we are well served. Madam,

answered I, with this sum there shall be a banquet for the whole

troop. My friend, replied Arsenia, correct your phraseology; you

must say company, not troop. A troop of robbers, a troop of beggars,

a troop of authors; but a company of comedians, especially when you

have to mention the actors of Madrid. I begged my mistress's pardon

for having used so disrespectful a term, and entreated her to excuse

my ignorance. I protested that henceforward, when I spoke

collectively of so august a body, I would always say the "company."

_CHAPTER XI._

_A THEATRICAL LIFE AND AN AUTHOR'S LIFE._

I took the field the next morning, to open my campaign as steward.

It was a fish day, for which reason I bought some good fat chickens,

rabbits, partridges, and every variety of game. As the gentlemen of

the sock and buskin are not on the best possible terms with the

church, they are not over scrupulous in their observance of the

rubric. I brought home provisions more than enough for a dozen

portly gentlemen to have fasted on during a whole Lent. The cook had

a good morning's work. While she was getting dinner ready, Arsenia

got up and spent the early part of the day at her toilet. At noon

came two of the players, Signor Rosimiro and Signor Ricardo.

Afterwards, two actresses, Constance and Celinaura; then entered

Florimonde, attended by a man who had all the appearance of a most

spruce cavalier. He had his hair dressed in the most elegant manner,

his hat set off with a fashionable plume, very tight breeches, and a

shirt with a laced frill. His gloves and his handkerchief were in

the hilt of his sword, and he wore his cloak with a grace altogether

peculiar to himself.

With a prepossessing physiognomy, and a good person, there was

something extraordinary in the first blush of him. This gentleman,

said I to myself, must be an original. I was not mistaken; his

singularities were striking. On his entrance, he ran, with open

arms, and embraced the company, male and female, one after another.

His grimaces were more extravagant than any I had yet seen in this

region of foppery. My prediction was not falsified by his discourse.

He dwelt with fondness on every syllable he uttered, and pronounced

his words in an emphatic tone, with gestures and glances artfully

adapted to the subject. I had the curiosity to ask Laura who this

strange figure might be. I forgive you, said she, this instance of

an inquisitive disposition. It is impossible to see and to hear

Signor Carlos Alonso de la Ventoleria for the first time, without

having such a natural longing. I will paint him to the life. In the

first place, he was originally a player. He left the stage through

caprice, and has since repented in sober sadness of the step. Did

you notice his dark hair? Every thread of it is penciled, as well as

his eyebrows and his whiskers. He was born in the reign of Saturn's

father, in the age before the golden; but as there were no parish

registers at that time, he avails himself of the primitive barbarism,

and dates at least twenty centimes below the true epoch. Moreover,

his self-sufficiency keeps pace with his antiquity. He passed the

olympiads of his youth in the grossest ignorance; but taking a fancy

to become learned about the Christian era, he engaged a private

tutor, who taught him to spell in Greek and Latin. Nay, more, he

knows by heart an infinite number of good stories, which he has given

so often as genuine, that he actually begins to believe them himself.

They are eternally pressed into the service, and it may truly be said

that his wit shines at the expense of his memory. He is thought to

be a great actor. I am willing to believe it implicitly, but I must

own he is not to my taste. He declaims here sometimes; and I have

observed, among other defects, an affectation in his delivery, with a

tremulousness of voice bordering on the antiquated and ridiculous.

Such was the portrait, drawn by my abigail of this honorary spouter;

and never was mortal of a more stately carriage. He prided himself,

too, on being an agreeable companion. He never was at a loss for a

commodity of trite remarks, which he delivered with an air of

authority. On the other hand, the Thespian fraternity were not much

addicted to silence. They began canvassing their absent colleagues

in a manner little consistent with charity, it must be owned; but

this is a failing pardonable in players as well as in authors. The

fire grew brisk and the satire personal. You have not heard, ladies,

said Rosimiro, a new stroke of our dear brother Cesarino. This very

morning he bought silk stockings, ribbons, and laces, and sent them

to rehearsal by a little page, as a present from a countess. What a

knavish trick! said Signor de la Ventoleria, with a smile made up of

fatuity and conceit. In my time there was more honesty: we never

thought of descending to such impositions. To be sure, women of

fashion were tender of our inventive faculties, nor did they leave

such purchases to be made out of our own pockets; it was their whim.

By the honor of our house, said Ricardo, in the same strain, that

whim of theirs is lasting, and if it were allowable to kiss and tell

... But one must be secret on these occasions; above all when persons

of a certain rank are concerned.

Gentlemen, interrupted Florimonde, a truce, if you please, with your

conquests and successes, they are known over the whole earth.

Apropos of Ismene. It is said that the nobleman who has fooled away

so much money upon her, has at length recovered his senses. Yes

indeed, exclaimed Constance; and I can tell you besides that she has

lost, by the same stroke, a snug little hero of the counting-house,

whose ruin would otherwise have been signed and sealed. I have the

thing from the first hand. Her Mercury made an unfortunate mistake,

for he carried a tender invitation to each, and delivered them wrong.

These were great losses, my darling, quoth Florimonde. O! as for

that of the lord, replied Constance, it is a very trifling matter.

The man of blood had almost run through his estate, but the little

fellow with the pen behind his ear was but just coming into play. He

had never been fleeced before, it is a pity he should have escaped so

easily.

Such was the tenor of the conversation before dinner, and it was not

much mended in its morality at table. As I should never have done

with the recital of all their ribaldry and nonsense, the reader will

excuse the omission, and pass on to the entrance of a poor devil,

yclept an author, who called just before the cloth was taken away.

Our little footboy came, and said to my mistress in an audible voice,

Madam, a man in a dirty shirt, splashed up to his middle, with very

much the look of a poet, saving your presence, wants to speak to you.

Let him walk up, answered Arsenia. Keep your seats, gentlemen, it is

only an author. To be sure so it was, one whose tragedy had been

accepted, and he was bringing my mistress her part. His name was

Pedro de Moya. On coming into the room he made five or six low bows

to the company, who neither rose nor took the least notice of him.

Arsenia just returned his superabundant civilities with a slight

inclination of the head. He came forward with tremor and

embarrassment. He dropped his gloves and let his hat fall. He

ventured to pick them up again, then advanced towards my mistress,

and presenting to her a paper with more ceremony than a defendant an

affidavit to the judge of the court: Madam, said he, have the

goodness to receive under your protection the part I take the liberty

of offering you. She stretched out her hand for it with cold and

contemptuous indifference; nor did she condescend even to notice the

compliment by a look.

But our author was not disheartened. Seizing this opportunity to

distribute the cast, he gave one character to Rosimiro and another to

Florimonde, who treated him just as genteelly as Arsenia had done.

On the contrary, the low comedian, a very pleasant fellow, as those

gentlemen for the most part affect to be, insulted him with the most

cutting sarcasms. Pedro de Moya was not made of stone. Yet he dared

not take up the aggressor, lest his piece should suffer for it. He

withdrew without saying a word, but stung to the quick, as it seemed

to me, by his reception. He could not fail, in the transports of his

anger, mentally to apostrophize the players as they deserved: and the

players, when he was gone, began to talk of authors in return with

infinite deference and kindness. It should seem, said Florimonde, as

if Signor de Moya did not go away very well pleased.

Well! madam, cried Rosimiro, and why should you trouble yourself

about that? Are we to study the feelings of authors? If we were to

admit them upon equal terms, it would only be the way to spoil them.

I know that contemptible squad; I know them of old: they would soon

forget their distance. There is no dealing with them but as slaves;

and as for tiring their patience, never fear that. Though they may

take themselves off in a pet sometimes, the itch of writing brings

them back again; and they are raised to the third heaven, if we will

but condescend to support their pieces. You are right, said Arsenia;

we never lose an author till we have made his fortune. When that is

done, as soon as we have provided for the ungrateful devils, they get

to be in good case, and then they run restive. Luckily, the manager

does not break his heart after them, and one is just as good as

another to the public.

These liberal and sagacious remarks met with their full share of

approbation. It was carried unanimously that authors, though treated

rather too scurvily behind the scenes, were on the whole the obliged

persons. These fretters of an hour upon the stage ranked the

inhabitant of Parnassus below themselves; and malice could not

degrade him lower.

_CHAPTER XII._

_GIL BLAS ACQUIRES A RELISH FOR THE THEATRE, AND TAKES A FULL SWING

OF ITS PLEASURES, BUT SOON BECOMES DISGUSTED._

The party sat at the table till it was time to go to the theatre. I

went after them, and saw the play again that evening. I took such

delight in it, that I was for attending every day. I never missed,

and by degrees got accustomed to the actors. Such is the force of

habit. I was particularly delighted with those who were most

artificial and unnatural; nor was I singular in my taste.

The beauties of composition affected me much on the same principle as

the excellence of representation. There were some pieces with which

I was enraptured. I liked, among others, those which brought all the

cardinals or the twelve peers of France upon the stage. I got hold

of striking passages in these incomparable performances. I recollect

that in two days I learned by heart a whole play, called _The Queen

of Flowers_. The Rose, who was the queen, had the Violet for her

maid of honor, and the Jessamine for her prime minister. I could

conceive nothing more elegant or refined: such productions seemed to

be the triumph of our Spanish wit and invention.

I was not content to store my memory and discipline my mind with the

choicest selections from these dramatic masterpieces: but I was bent

on polishing my taste to the highest perfection. To secure this

grand object, I listened with greedy ears to every word which fell

from the lips of the players. If they commended a piece, I was

ravished by it: but suppose they pronounced it bad? why then I

maintained that it was infernal stuff. I conceived that they must

determine the merits of a play, as a jeweller the water of a diamond.

And yet the tragedy by Pedro de Moya was eminently successful, though

they had predicted its entire miscarriage. This, however, was no

disparagement of their critical skill in my estimation; and I had

rather believe the audience to be divested of common sense, than

doubt the infallibility of the company. But they assured me on all

hands, that their judgments were usually confirmed by the rule of

contraries. It seemed to be a maxim with them, to set their faces

point-blank against the taste of the public; and as a proof of this,

there were a thousand cases in point of unexpected successes and

failures. All these testimonies were scarcely sufficient to

undeceive me.

I shall never forget what happened one day at the first

representation of a new comedy. The performers had pronounced it

uninteresting and tedious; they had even prophesied that it would not

be heard to the end. Under this impression, they got through the

first act, which was loudly applauded. This was very astonishing!

They played the second act; the audience liked it still better than

the first. The actors were confounded. What the devil, said

Rosimiro, this comedy succeeds! At last they went on in the third

act, which rose as a third act ought to rise. I am quite thrown upon

my back, said Ricardo; we thought this piece would not be relished;

and all the world are mad after it. Gentlemen, said one of the

players archly, it is because we happened accidentally to overlook

all the wit.

From this time I held my opinion no longer of the players as

competent judges, and began to appreciate their merit more truly than

they had estimated that of the authors. All the lampoons which were

current about them were fully justified. The actors and actresses

ran riot on the applause of the town, and stood so high in their own

conceit, as to think that they conferred a favor by appearing on the

boards. I was shocked at their public misconduct; but unfortunately

reconciled myself too easily to their private manners, and plunged

into debauchery. How could I do otherwise? Every word they uttered

was poison in the ears of youth, and every scene that was presented,

an alluring picture of corruption. Had I been a stranger to what

passed with Casilda, with Constance, and with the other actresses,

Arsenia's house alone would have been sufficient for my ruin.

Besides the old noblemen of whom I have spoken, there came thither

young debauchees of fashion, who forestalled their inheritances by

the disinterested mediation of money-lenders: and sometimes we had

officers under government, who were so far from receiving fees, as at

their public boards, that they paid most exorbitant ones for the

privilege of mixing with such worshipful society.

Florimonde, who lived at next door, dined and supped with Arsenia

every day. Their long intimacy surprised every one. Coquettes were

not thought usually to maintain so good an understanding with each

other. It was concluded that they would quarrel, sooner or later,

about some paramour; but such reasoners could not see into the hearts

of these exemplary friends. They were united in the bonds of

indissoluble love. Instead of harboring jealousy, like other women,

they had everything in common. They had rather divide the plunder of

mankind, than childishly fall out, and contend for trumpery, as

hearts and affections.

Laura, after the example of these two illustrious partners, turned

the fresh season of youth to the best advantage. She had told me

that I should see strange doings. And yet I did not take up the

jealous part. I had promised to adopt the principles of the company

on that score. For some days I kept my thoughts to myself. I only

just took the liberty of asking her the names of the men whom she

favored with her private ear. She always told me that they were

uncles or cousins. From what a prolific family was she sprung! King

Priam had no luck in propagation, compared with her ancestors. Nor

did this precious abigail confine herself to her uncles and cousins:

she went now and then to lay a trap for unwary aliens, and personate

the widow of quality under the auspices of the discreet old dowager

above mentioned. In short, Laura, to hit off her character exactly,

was just as young, just as pretty, and just as loose as her mistress,

who had no other advantage over her than that of figuring in a more

public capacity.

I was borne down by the torrent for three weeks, and ran the career

of dissipation in my turn. But I must at the same time say for

myself, that in the midst of pleasure I frequently felt the still

small voice of conscience, arising from the impression of a serious

education, which mixed gall in the Circean cup. Riot could not

altogether get the better of remorse: on the contrary, the pangs of

the last grew keener with the more shameful indulgence of the first;

and, by a happy effect of my temperament, the disorders of a

theatrical life began to make me shudder. Ah! wretch, said I to

myself, is it thus that you make good the hopes of your family? Is

it not enough to have thwarted their pious intentions, by not

following your destined course of life as an instructor of youth?

Need your condition of a servant hinder you from living decently and

soberly? Are such monsters of iniquity fit companions for you?

Envy, hatred, and avarice are predominant here; intemperance and

idleness have purchased the fee-simple there; the pride of some is

aggravated into the most barefaced impudence, and modesty is turned

out of doors, by the common consent of all. The business is settled:

I will not live any longer with the seven deadly sins.

BOOK THE FOURTH.

_CHAPTER I._

_GIL BLAS, NOT BEING ABLE TO RECONCILE HIMSELF TO THE MORALS OF THE

ACTRESSES, QUITS ARSENIA, AND GETS INTO A MORE REPUTABLE SERVICE._

A surviving spark of honor and of religion, in the midst of so

general depravity, made me resolve not only to leave Arsenia, but

even to abjure all commerce with Laura, whom yet I could not cease to

love, though I was well aware of her daily inconstancy. Happy the

man who can thus profit by those appeals, which occasionally

interrupt the headlong course of his pleasures! One fine morning, I

made up my bundle, and, without reckoning with Arsenia, who indeed

owed me next to nothing, without taking leave of my dear Laura, I

burst from that mansion, which smelt of brimstone and fire reserved

for the wicked. I had no sooner taken so virtuous a step, than

providence interfered in my behalf. I met the steward of my late

master, Don Matthias, and greeted him; he knew me again at once, and

stopped to enquire where I lived. I answered that I had just left my

place; that after staying near a month with Arsenia, whose manners

did not at all suit me, I was come away by a sudden impulse of

virtue, to save my innocence. The steward, just as if he had been

himself of a religious cast, commended my scruples, and offered me a

place much to my advantage, since I was so chaste and honest a youth.

He kept his word, and introduced me, on that very day, into the

family of Don Vincent de Gusman, with whose agent he was acquainted.

I could not have got into a better service; nor did I repent in the

sequel of having accepted the situation. Don Vincent was a very rich

old nobleman, who had lived many years unincumbered with lawsuits or

with a wife. The physicians had removed the last plague out of the

way, in their attempts to rid her of a cough, which might have lasted

a great while longer, if the remedies had not been more fatal than

the disease. Far from thinking of the holy state a second time, he

gave himself up entirely to the education of his only daughter

Aurora, who was then entering her twenty-sixth year, and might pass

for an accomplished person. With beauty above the common, she had an

excellent and highly-cultivated understanding. Her father was a poor

creature as to intellect, but he possessed the happy talent of

looking well after his affairs. One fault he had, of a kind

excusable in old men: he was an incessant talker, especially about

war and fighting. If that string was unfortunately touched in his

presence, in a moment he blew his heroic trumpet, and his hearers

might think themselves lucky if they compounded for a gazette

extraordinary of two sieges and three battles. As he had spent two

thirds of his life in the service, his memory was an inexhaustible

depot of various facts; but the patience of the listeners did not

always keep pace with the perseverance of the relater. The stories,

sufficiently prolix themselves, were still further spun out by

stuttering, so that the manner was still less happy than the matter.

In all other respects, I never met with a nobleman of a more amiable

character: his temper was even; he was neither obstinate nor

capricious; the general alternative of men in the higher ranks of

life. Though a good economist, he lived like a gentleman. His

establishment was composed of several men servants, and three women

in waiting on Aurora. I soon discovered that the steward of Don

Matthias had procured me a good post, and my only anxiety was to

establish myself firmly in it. I took all possible pains to feel the

ground under my feet, and to study the characters of the whole

household: then regulating my conduct by my discoveries, I was not

long in ingratiating myself with my master and all the servants.

I had been with Don Vincent above a month, when it struck me that his

daughter was very particular in her notice of me above all the

servants in the family. Whenever her eyes happened accidently to

meet mine, they seemed to be suffused with a certain partial

complacency, which did not enter into her silent communications with

the vulgar. Had it not been for my haunts among the coxcombs of the

theatrical tribe and their hangers-on, it would never have entered

into my head that Aurora should throw away a thought on me: but my

brain had been a little turned among those gentry, from whose

libertine suspicions of ladies of the noblest birth are not always

held sacred. If, said I, those chronicles of the age are to be

believed, fancy and high blood lead women of quality a dance, in

which they sometimes join hands with unequal partners: how do I know

but my young mistress may caper to a tune of my piping? But no; it

cannot be so, neither. This is not one of your Messalinas, who,

derogating from the loftiness of ancestry, unworthily let down their

regards to the dust, and sully their pure honor without a blush: but

rather one of those virtuously apprehensive, yet tender-hearted

girls, who encircle their softness within the insurmountable pale of

delicacy; yet think it no tampering with chastity, to inspire and

cherish a sentimental flame, interesting to the heart without being

dangerous to the morals.

Such were my ideas of my mistress, without knowing exactly whether

they were right or wrong. And yet, when we met, she was continually

caught with a smile of satisfaction on her countenance. Without

passing for a fop, a man might give in to such flattering

appearances; and a philosophical apathy was not to be expected from

me. I conceived Aurora to have been deeply smitten with my

irresistible attractions, and looked on myself henceforth in the

light of a favored attendant, whose servitude was to be sweetened by

the balmy infusion of love. To appear in some measure less unworthy

of the blessings, which propitious fortune had kept in store for me,

I began to take better care of my person than I had done heretofore.

I laid out my slender stock of money in linen, pomatums, and

essences. The first thing in the morning was to prank up and perfume

myself, so as not to be in an undress in case of being sent for into

the presence of my mistress. With these attentions to personal

elegance and other dexterous strokes in the art of pleasing, I

flattered myself that the moment of my bliss was not very distant.

Among Aurora's women there was one who went by the name of Ortiz.

This was an old dowager, who had been a fixture in Don Vincent's

family for more than twenty years. She had been about his daughter

from her childhood, and still held the office of duenna; but she no

longer performed the invidious part of the duty. On the contrary,

instead of blazoning, as formerly, Aurora's little indiscretions, her

skill was now employed in throwing them into shade. One evening,

Dame Ortiz, having watched her opportunity of speaking to me without

observation, said, in a low voice, that if I was close and

trustworthy, I had only to be in the garden at midnight, when a scene

would be laid open in which I should not be sorry to be an actor. I

answered the duenna, pressing her hand significantly, that I would

not fail, and we parted in a hurry for fear of surprise. How the

hours lagged from this moment till supper time, though, we supped

very early. Then again, from supper to my master's bed time! It

should seem as if the march of the whole family was timed to a largo

movement. By way of helping forward the fidgets, when Don Vincent

withdrew to his chamber, the army was put on the war establishment,

and we were obliged to fight the campaigns in Portugal over again,

though my ears had not recovered from the din of the last cannonade.

But a favor from which I had hitherto made my escape, was reserved

for this eventful evening. He repeated the army list from beginning

to end, with copious digressions on the exploits of those officers

who had distinguished themselves in his time. O, my poor tympanum!

It was almost cracked before we got to the end. Time, however, will

wear out even an old man's story, and he went to bed. I immediately

went to my own little chamber, whence there was a way into the garden

by a private staircase. I depended on my purchase of perfumery for

overcoming the effluvia of the day's drudgery, and put on a clean

shirt highly scented. When every invention had been pressed into the

service to render my person worthy of its destiny, and cherish the

fondness of my mistress, I went to the appointment.

Ortiz was not there. I concluded that, tired of waiting for me, she

had gone back to her chamber, and that the happy moments of

philandering was over. I laid all the blame on Don Vincent; but just

as I was singing Te Deum backwards for his campaigns, I heard the

clock strike ten. To be sure it must be wrong! It could not be less

than one o'clock. Yet I was so egregiously out in my reckoning, that

full a quarter of an hour afterwards, I counted ten upon my fingers

by the clock at next door. Vastly well, thought I to myself, I have

only two complete hours to ventilate my passion here _al fresco_. At

least they shall not complain of me for want of punctuality. What

shall I do with myself till twelve? Suppose we take a turn about

this garden and settle our cues in the delicious drama just going to

be brought on the stage; it is my first appearance in so principal a

character. I am not yet sufficiently well read in the crotchets of

your quality dames. I know how to tickle a girl in a stuff gown, or

an actress: You swagger up to them with an easy, impudent assurance,

and pop the question without making any bones of it. But one must

take a female of condition on a very different tack. It seems to me,

that in this case the happy swain must be well bred, attentive,

tender, respectful, without degenerating into bashfulness. Instead

of taking his happiness by storm, he must plant his amorous desires

in ambuscade, and wait till the garrison is asleep, and the outworks

defenceless.

Thus it was that I argued, and such were the preconcerted plans of my

campaign with Aurora. After a few tedious minutes, according to my

calculation, I was to experience the ecstasy of finding myself at the

feet of that lovely creature, and pouring forth a torrent of

impassioned nonsense. I scraped together in my memory all the

clap-traps in our stock-plays, which were most successful with the

audience, and might best set off my pretensions to spirit and

gallantry. I trusted to my own adroitness for the application, and

hoped, after the example of some players in the list of my

acquaintance, bringing only a stock of memory into the trade, to deal

upon credit for my wit. While my imagination was engrossed by these

thoughts, which kept my impatience at bay much more successfully than

the commentaries of my modern Cæsar, I heard the clock strike eleven.

This was some encouragement, and I fell back to my meditations,

sometimes sauntering carelessly about, and sometimes throwing myself

at my length on the turf, in a bower at the bottom of the garden. At

length it struck twelve, the long-expected hour, big with my high

destiny. Some seconds after, Ortiz, as punctual as myself, though

less impatient, made her appearance. Signor Gil Blas, said she

accosting me, how long have you been here? Two hours, answered I.

Indeed! Truly, replied she, laughing, you are very exact; there is a

pleasure in making nocturnal assignations with you. Yet you may

assure yourself, continued she more gravely, that you cannot pay too

dear for such good fortune as that of which I am the messenger. My

mistress wants to have some private talk with you. I shall not

anticipate what may be the subject: that is a secret which you must

learn from no lips but her own. Follow me; I will show you into her

chamber. With these words the duenna took me by the hand, and led me

mysteriously into her lady's apartment through a little door, of

which she had the key.

_CHAPTER II._

_AURORA'S RECEPTION OF GIL BLAS. THEIR CONVERSATION._

I found Aurora in an undress. I saluted her in the most respectful

manner, and threw as much elegance into my attitude as I had to

throw. She received me with the most winning affability, made me sit

down by her against all my remonstrances, and told her ambassadors to

go into another room. After this opening, which seemed highly

encouraging to my cause, she entered upon the business. Gil Blas,

said she, you must have perceived how favorably I have regarded and

distinguished you from all the rest of my father's servants; and,

though my looks had not betrayed my partial dispositions towards you,

my proceeding of this night would leave you no room to doubt them.

I did not give her time to say a word more. It struck me that, as a

man of feeling, I ought to spare her trembling diffidence the cruel

necessity of explaining her sentiments in more direct terms. I rose

from my chair in a transport, and, throwing myself at Aurora's feet,

like a tragedy hero of the Grecian stage, when he supplicates the

heroine "by her knees," exclaimed in a declamatory tone, Ah! madam,

could it be possible that Gil Blas, hitherto the whirligig of

fortune, and football of embattled nature, should have called down

upon his head the exquisite felicity of inspiring sentiments.... Do

not speak so loud, interrupted my mistress with a laugh of mingled

apprehension and ridicule, you will wake my women who sleep in the

adjoining chamber. Get up, take your seat, and hear me out without

putting in a word. Yes, Gil Blas, pursued she resuming her gravity,

you have my best wishes; and to show you how deep you are in my good

graces, I will confide to you a secret on which depends the repose of

my life. I am in love with a young gentleman, possessing every charm

of person and face, and noble by birth. His name is Don Lewis

Pacheco. I have seen him occasionally in the public walks and at the

theatre, but I have never conversed with him. I do not even know

what his private character may be, or what bad qualities he may have.

It is on this subject that I wish to be informed. I stand in need of

a person to enquire diligently into his morals, and give me a true

and particular account. I make choice of you. Surely I run no risk

in entrusting you with this commission. I hope that you will acquit

yourself with dexterity and prudence, and that I shall never repent

of giving you my confidence.

My mistress concluded thus, and waited for my answer to her proposal.

I had been disconcerted in the first instance at so disagreeable a

mistake; but I soon recovered my scattered senses, and surmounting

the confusion which rashness always occasions when it is unlucky, I

exposed to sale such a cargo of zeal for the lady's interests, I

devoted myself with so martyr-like an enthusiasm to her service, that

if she did not absolutely forget my silly vanity in the thought of

having pleased her, at least she had reason to believe that I knew

how to make amends for a piece of folly. I asked only two days to

bring her a satisfactory account of Don Lewis. After which Dame

Ortiz, answering the bell, showed me the way back into the garden,

and said, on taking leave, Good night, Gil Blas. I need not caution

you to be in time at the next appointment. I have sufficient

experience of your punctuality on these occasions.

I returned to my chamber, not without some little mortification at

finding my voluptuous anticipations all divested of even their ideal

sweetness. I was nevertheless sufficiently in my senses to reflect

soberly that it was more in my element to be the trusty scout of my

mistress than her lover, I even thought that this adventure might

lead to something further; that the middle men in the trade of love

usually pocket a tolerable per centage; and went to bed with the

resolution of doing whatever Aurora required of me. For this purpose

I went abroad the next morning, The residence of so distinguished a

personage as Don Lewis was not difficult to find out. I made my

enquiries about him in the neighborhood, but the people who came in

my way could not satisfy my curiosity to the full, so that it was

necessary to resume my search diligently on the following day. I was

in better luck. I met a lad of my acquaintance by chance in the

street; we stopped for a little gossip. There passed by in the very

nick one of his friends, who came up and told him that he was just

turned away from the family of Don Joseph Pacheco, Don Lewis's

father, about a paltry remnant of wine, which he had been accused of

drinking. I would not lose so fair an occasion of learning all I

wanted to know, and plied my questions so successfully as to go home

with much self-complacency at my punctual performance of my

engagements with my mistress. It was on the coming night that I was

to see her again at the same hour, and in the same manner as the

first time. I was not in such a confounded hurry this evening. Far

from writhing with impatience under the prolixity of my old

commander, I led him on to the charge. I waited for midnight with

the greatest indifference in the world, and it was not till all the

clocks within ear-shot had struck that I crept down into the garden,

without any nonsense of pomatum and perfumery. That foppery was

completely cured.

At the place of meeting I found the very faithful duenna, who

sneeringly reproached me with a defalcation in my zeal. I made her

no answer, but suffered myself to be conducted into Aurora's chamber.

She asked me, as soon as I made my appearance, whether I had gained

any intelligence of Don Lewis. Yes, madam, said I, and you shall

have the sum total in two words, I must first tell you, that he will

soon set out for Salamanca, to finish his studies. The young

gentleman is brimful of honor and probity. As for the valor, he

cannot be deficient there, since he is a man of birth and a

Castilian. Besides this, he has an infinite deal of wit, and is very

agreeable in his manners; but there is one thing which can scarcely

be to your liking. He is pretty much in the fashion of our young

nobility here at court--exemplarily catholic in his devotions to the

fair. Have you not heard that at his age he has already been

tenant-at-will to two actresses? What is it you tell me? replied

Aurora. What shocking conduct! But do you know for certain, Gil

Blas, that he leads so dissolute a life? O! there is no doubt of it,

madam, rejoined I. A servant, turned off this morning, told me so,

and servants are very plain dealers when the failings of their

masters are the topic. Besides, he keeps company with Don Alexo

Segiar, Don Antonio Centellés, and Don Fernando de Gamboa; that

single circumstance proves his libertinism with all the force of

demonstration. It is enough, Gil Blas, said my mistress with a sigh;

on your report I am determined to struggle with my unworthy passion.

Though it has already struck deep root in my heart, I do not despair

of tearing it forcibly from its bed. Go, added she, putting into my

hands a small purse, none of the lightest, take this for your pains.

Beware of betraying my secret. Consider it as entrusted to your

silence.

I assured my mistress that she might be perfectly easy on that score,

for I was the Harpocrates of confidential servants. After this

compliment to myself, I withdrew with no small eagerness to

investigate the contents of the purse. There were twenty pistoles.

It struck me all at once that Aurora would surely have given me more

had I been the bearer of pleasant tidings, since she paid so

handsomely for a blank in the lottery. I was sorry not to have

adopted the policy of the pleaders in the courts, who sometimes paint

the cheek of truth when her natural complexion is inclined to be

cadaverous. It was a pity to have stifled an amour in the birth

which might in its growth have been so profitable. Yet I had the

comfort of finding myself reimbursed the expense so unseasonably

incurred in perfumery and washes.

_CHAPTER III._

_A GREAT CHANGE AT DON VINCENT'S. AURORA'S STRANGE RESOLUTION._

It happened soon after this adventure that Signor Don Vincent fell

sick. Independent of his very advanced age, the symptoms of his

disorder appeared in so formidable a shape that a fatal termination

was but too probable. From the beginning of his illness he was

attended by two of the most eminent physicians in Madrid. One was

Doctor Andros, and the other Doctor Oquetos. They considered the

case with due solemnity; and both agreed, after a strict

investigation, that the humors were in a state of mutiny, but this

was the only thing about which they did agree. The proper practice,

said Andros, is to purge the humors, though raw, with all possible

expedition, while they are in a violent agitation of flux and reflux,

for fear of their fixing upon some noble part. Oquetos maintained,

on the contrary, that we must wait till the humors were ripened

before it would be safe to go upon purgatives. But your method,

replied the first speaker, is directly in the teeth of the rules laid

down by the prince of medicine. Hippocrates recommends purging in

the most burning fever from the very first attack, and says in plain

terms that no time is to be lost in purging when the humors are in

οργασμος, that is to say, in a state of fermentation. Ay!

there is your mistake, replied Oquetos. Hippocrates by the word

οργασμος does not mean the fermentation, he means rather the

concoction of the humors.

Thereupon our doctors got heated. One quotes the Greek text, and

cites all the authors who have explained it in his sense; the other,

trusting to a Latin translation, takes up the controversy in a still

more positive tone. Which of the two to believe? Don Vincent was

not the man to decide that question. In the meantime, finding

himself obliged to choose, he gave his confidence to the party who

had despatched the greatest number of patients--I mean the elder of

the two. Andros, the younger, immediately withdrew, not without

flinging out a few satirical taunts at his senior on the [Greek:

orgasmos]. Here then was Oquetos triumphant. As he was a professor

of the Sangrado school, he began by bleeding copiously, waiting till

the humors were ripened before he went upon purgatives. But death,

fearing, no doubt, lest this reserve of purgatives should turn the

fortunes of the day, got the start of the concoction, and secured his

victory over my master by a coup-de-main. Such was the final close

of Signor Don Vincent, who lost his life because his physician did

not know Greek.

Aurora, having buried her father with a pomp suited to the dignity of

his birth, administered to his effects. Having the whole arrangement

of everything in her own breast, she discharged some of the servants

with rewards proportioned to their services, and soon retired to her

castle on the Tagus, between Sacedon and Buendia. I was among the

number of those whom she kept, and who made part of her country

establishment. I had even the good fortune to become a principal

agent in the plot. In spite of my faithful report on the subject of

Don Lewis, she still harbored a partiality for that bewitching young

fellow; or rather, for want of spirit to combat her passion in the

first instance, she surrendered at discretion. There was no longer

any need of taking precautions to speak with me in private. Gil

Blas, said she, with a sigh, I can never forget Don Lewis. Let me

make what effort I will to banish him from my thoughts, he is present

to them without intermission, not as you have described him, plunged

in every variety of licentious riot, but just what my fancy would

paint him,--tender, loving, constant. She betrayed considerable

emotion in uttering these words, and could not help shedding tears.

My fountains were very near playing from mere sympathy. There was no

better way of paying my court than by appearing sensibly touched at

her distress. My friend, continued she, after having wiped her

loving eyes, your nature is evidently cast in a benevolent mould; and

I am so well satisfied with your zeal that it shall not go

unrewarded. Your assistance, my dear Gil Blas, is more necessary to

me than ever. You must be made acquainted with a plan which

engrosses all my thoughts, though it will appear strangely eccentric.

You are to know that I mean to set out for Salamanca as soon as

possible. There, my design is to assume the disguise of a

fashionable young fellow, and to make acquaintance with Pacheco under

the name of Don Felix. I shall endeavor to gain his confidence and

friendship, and lead the conversation incidentally to the subject of

Aurora de Guzman, for whose cousin I shall pass. He may perhaps

express a wish to see her, and there is the point on which I expect

the interest to turn. We will have two apartments in Salamanca. In

one I shall be Don Felix, in the other, Aurora; and I flatter myself

that by presenting my person before Don Lewis, sometimes under the

semblance of a man, sometimes in all the natural and artificial

attractions of my own sex, I may bring him by little and little to

the proposed end of my stratagem. I am perfectly aware that my

project is extravagant in the highest degree, but my passion drives

me headlong; and the innocence of my intentions renders me insensible

to all compunctious feelings of virgin apprehension respecting so

hazardous a step.

I was exactly in the same mind with Aurora respecting the

extravagance of her scheme. Yet, unreasonable as it might seem to

reflecting persons like myself, there was no occasion for me to play

the schoolmaster. On the contrary, I began to practice all the arts

of a thorough-bred special pleader, and undertook to magnify this

hair-brained pursuit into a piece of incomparable wit and spirit,

without the least tincture of imprudence. This was highly gratifying

to my mistress. Lovers like to have their rampant fancies tickled.

We no longer considered this rash enterprise in any other light than

as a play, of which the characters were to be properly cast, and the

business dramatically arranged. The actors were chosen out of our

own domestic establishment, and the parts distributed without secret

jealousy or open rupture, but then we were not players by profession.

It was determined that Dame Ortiz should personate Aurora's aunt,

under the name of Donna Kimena de Guzman, with a valet and

waiting-maid by way of attendance; and that Aurora, with the swashing

outside of a gay spark, was to take me for her valet-de-chambre, with

one of her women disguised as a page, to be more immediately about

her person. The drama thus filled up, we returned to Madrid, where

we understood Don Lewis still to be, though it was not likely to be

long till his departure for Salamanca. We got up with all possible

haste the dresses and decorations of our wild comedy. When they were

in complete order, my mistress had them packed up careftdly, that

they might come out in all their gloss and newness on the rising of

the curtain. Then, leaving the care of her family to her steward,

she began her journey in a coach, drawn by four mules, and travelled

towards the kingdom of Leon with those of her household who had some

part to play in the piece.