Gil Blas Alain-René Lesage (novel books to read TXT) 📖

moderated your sense of pleasure, and softened down your taste to the simple beauties of nature.”

It was no difficult matter to operate a change in my inclinations. “My friend,” said I, “you carry it decidedly against the advocate of St. Dominic. We will go back to Lirias as soon as I am well enough to travel.” This happened shortly; for as the fever subsided, I soon felt myself sufficiently strong to put my design in execution. We went first to Madrid. The sight of that city gave me far other sensations than heretofore. As I knew that almost its whole population held in horror the memory of a minister of whom I cherished the most affectionate remembrance, I could not feel at my ease within its precincts. My stay was therefore limited to five or six days, while Scipio was making the necessary arrangements for our rustication. In the meantime, I waited on Caporis, and received my legacy in ready money. I likewise made my arrangements with the receivers for the regular remittance of my pensions, and settled all my affairs in due order.

The evening before our departure, I asked the son of Cosclina whether he had received his farewell from Don Henry. “Yes,” answered he; “we took leave of each other this morning with mutual civility: he went so far as to express his regret that I should quit him; but however well satisfied he might be with me, I am by no means so with him. Mutual content is like a river, which must have its banks on either side. Besides, Don Henry makes but a pitiful figure at court now; he has fallen into utter contempt; people point at him with their finger in the streets, and call him a Genoese bastard. Judge, then, for yourself, whether it is consistent with my character to keep up the connection.”

We left Madrid one morning at sunrise, and went for Cuenca. The following was the order of our equipment: we two in a chaise and pair, three mules, laden with baggage and money, led by two grooms and two stout footmen, well armed, in the rear; the grooms wore sabres, and the postilion had a pair of pistols in his holsters. As we were seven men in all, and six of us determined fellows, I took the road gayly, without trembling for my legacy. In the villages through which we passed our mules chimed their bells merrily, and the peasants ran to their doors to see us pass, supposing it to be at least the parade of some nobleman going to take possession of some viceroyalty.

XIII

The return of Gil Blas to his seat⁠—His joy at finding his goddaughter Seraphina marriageable⁠—And his own second venture in the lottery of love.

We were a fortnight on our journey to Lirias, having no occasion to make rapid stages. The sight of my own domain brought melancholy thoughts into my mind, with the image of my lost Antonia; but better topics of reflection came to my aid, with a full purpose to look at things on the brighter side, and the lapse of two-and-twenty years, which had gradually impaired the force of tender regret.

As soon as I entered the castle, Beatrice and her daughter greeted me most cordially, while the family scene was interesting in the extreme. When their mutual transports were over, I looked earnestly at my goddaughter, saying, “Can this be the Seraphina whom I left in her cradle? How tall and pretty! We must make a good match for her.

“What! my dear godfather,” cried my little girl, with an enchanting blush, “you have but just seen me, and do you want to get rid of me at once?”

“No, my lovely child,” replied I, “we hope not to lose you by marriage, but to find a husband for you in the neighborhood.”

“There is one ready to your hands,” said Beatrice. “Seraphina made a conquest one day at mass. Her suitor has declared his passion, and asked my consent. I told him that his acceptance depended on her father and her godfather; and here you are to determine for yourselves.”

“What is the character of this village lordling?” said Scipio. “Is he not, like his fellows, the little tyrant of the soil, and insolent to those who have no pedigree to boast?”

“The furthest from it in the world,” answered Beatrice; “the young man is gentle in his temper and polished in his manners; handsome withal, and somewhat under thirty.”

“You paint him in flattering colors,” said I to Beatrice; “what is his name?”

“Don Juan de Jutella,” replied Scipio’s wife: “it is not long since he came to his inheritance: he lives on his own estate, about a mile off, with a younger sister, of whom he takes care.”

“I once knew something of his family,” observed I; “it is one of the best in Valencia.”

“I care less for lineage,” cried Scipio, “than for the qualities of the heart and mind; this Don Juan will exactly suit us, if he is a good sort of man.”

“He is belied else,” said Seraphina, with a blushing interest in our conversation; “the inhabitants of Lirias, who know him well, say all the good of him you can conceive.” I smiled at this; and her father, not less quick-sighted, saw plainly that her heart had a share in the testimony of her tongue.

The gentleman soon heard of our arrival, and paid his respects to us within two days. His address was pleasing and manly, so as to prepossess us in his favor. He affected merely to welcome us home as a neighbor. Our reception was such as not to discourage the repetition of his visit; but not a word of Seraphina! When he was gone, Beatrice asked us how we liked him. We could have no objection to make, and gave it as our opinion that Seraphina could not dispose of herself better.

The next day, Scipio and I returned the visit. We took a guide, and luckily; for