THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
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 THE ADVENTURES OF GIL EL AS 
 OF SANTILLA2s T A.
 
 THE ADVENTURES 
 
 RENDERED INTO ENGLISH 
 
 BY HENRI VAN LAUN 
 
 ? 
 
 WITH AN 
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE, LIFE OF LESAGE, AND NOTES 
 
 VOLUME FIRST 
 
 EDINBURGH: WILLIAM PATERSON 
 
 MDCCCLXXXVI
 
 College 
 Library 
 
 7 
 
 , 
 
 TO 
 
 GEORGE AUGUSTUS SALA, ESQ., 
 
 IN AFFECTIONATE REMEMBRANCE.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PACK 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE . . . . ... V 
 
 LIFE OP LE8AQE . . . . . , . . xlix 
 
 THE AUTHOR'S DECLARATION ...... Iviii 
 
 GIL BLAS TO THE READER . lix 
 
 BOOK L 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE BIRTH AND EDUCATION OF OIL BLAS .... 3 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GIL BLAS' ALARMS ON HIS WAY TO PEGNAFLOR : WHAT HE DID 
 WHEN HE GOT THERE, AND WITH WHAT KIND OF MAN HE 
 SUPPED ......... 6 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TEMPTATION OF THE MULETEER ON THE ROAD ; ITS CON- 
 SEQUENCES ; AND HOW GIL BLAS FELL INTO CHARYBDIS 
 BY TRYING TO AVOID SCYLLA . . . . . 17 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OF THE SUBTERRANEAN DWELLING AND WHAT GIL 
 
 BLAS SAW THERE 22
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 OF THE ARRIVAL OF SEVERAL OTHER ROBBERS IN THE CAVE, 
 AND OF THE PLEASANT CONVERSATION WHICH THEY ALL 
 HAD TOGETHER ........ 26 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE ATTEMPT WHICH GIL BLAS MADE TO ESCAPE, AND ITS 
 
 RESULT ......... 38 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHAT GIL BLAS DID WHEN HE COULD DO NOTHING BETTER . 42 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 GIL BLAS ACCOMPANIES THE ROBBERS J HIS EXPLOIT ON THE 
 
 HIGH-ROAD ........ 46 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SERIOUS INCIDENT WHICH FOLLOWED THIS ADVENTURE . 51 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HOW THE ROBBERS BEHAVED TO THE LADY. THE GRAND 
 
 DESIGN WHICH GIL BLAS CONCEIVED, AND ITS RESULT . 54 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF DONNA MENCIA DE MOSQUERA . . 63 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE UNPLEASANT MANNER IN WHICH GIL BLAS AND THE LADY 
 
 WERE INTERRUPTED . . 74
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 HOW GIL BLAS AT LENGTH GOT OUT OF PRISON, AND WHERE HE 
 
 WENT ......... 80 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE RECEPTION WHICH DONNA MENCIA GAVE GIL BLAS AT 
 
 BURGOS ......... 85 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS DRESSED HIMSELF, OF THE FRESH PRESENT 
 WHICH HE RKCEIVED FROM THE LADY, AND THE STYLE IN 
 WHICH HE LEFT BURGOS . . . . . . 91 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 WHICH SHOWS THAT WE MUST NOT RELY TOO MUCH ON 
 
 PROSPERITY 97 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WHAT GIL BLAS DID AFTER THE ADVENTURE OF THE FURNISHED 
 
 LODGINGS . 106 
 
 BOOK II. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 FABRICIO INTRODUCES GIL BLAS TO THE LICENTIATE SEDILLO. 
 HOW THEY FOUND THAT CANON. A DESCRIPTION OF HIS 
 HOUSEKEEPER . . . . . . . .121 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HOW THE CANON WAS TREATED WHEN HE FELL ILL ; WHAT 
 CAME OF IT ; AND WHAT HE LEFT IN HIS WILL TO GIL 
 BLAS 130
 
 CONTEXTS. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 GIL BLAS ENTERS THE SERVICE OP DOCTOR SANGRADO, AND 
 
 BECOMES A CELEBRATED PHYSICIAN . . . .139 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 GIL BLAS CONTINUES TO PRACTICE MEDICINE WITH AS MUCH 
 SUCCESS AS ABILITY. THE ADVENTURE OP THE RECOVERY 
 OP THE KING ........ 148 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CONTINUATION OP THE ADVENTURE OP THE RECOVERY OP THE 
 RING. GIL BLAS BRINGS TO A CLOSE HIS MEDICAL CAREER 
 AND HIS SOJOURN IN VALLADOLID . . . . 162 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BY WHAT ROAb GIL BLAS LEFT VALLADOLID, AND WHAT SORT 
 
 OP MAN JOINED HIM. BY THE WAY . . . .172 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY ..... 17G 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS AND HIS COMPANION MET A MAN WHO WAS 
 SOAKING CRUSTS OP BREAD IN A SPRING ; AND THE 
 CONVERSATION THEY HAD WITH HIM . . . . 210 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE CONDITION IN WHICH DIEGO FOUND HIS FAMILY; AND 
 HOW GIL BLAS AND HE SEPARATED, AFTER GREAT 
 REJOIflN<;s 210
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PA<;E 
 THE ARRIVAL OF GIL BLAS IN MADRID, AND HIS FIRST PLACE 
 
 IN THAT CITY ........ 227 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS TO HIS ASTONISHMENT MET CAPTAIN ROLANDO 
 IN MADRID, AND THE CURIOUS THINGS THIS ROBBER 
 RELATED TO HIM 239 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GIL BLAS IS DISMISSED BY DON BERNARD DE CASTIL BLAZO, 
 
 AND ENTERS INTO THE SERVICE OF A BEAU . . . 248 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH THE SERVANTS OF 
 THE BEAUX. THEY IMPART TO HIM THE ADMIRABLE 
 SECRET OF EASILY ACQUIRING THE REPUTATION OF A WIT ', 
 AND THE SINGULAR OATH WHICH THEY MAKE HIM TAKE 2G1 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 GIL BLAS SETS UP FOR A GALLANT, AND MAKES THE ACQUAINT- 
 ANCE OF A FINE LADY 271 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE CONVERSATION OF CERTAIN NOBLEMEN ABOUT THE ACTORS 
 
 OF THE PRINCE'S COMPANY ..... 283 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF DON POMPEYO DE CASTRO . 290
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 AN ACCIDENT WHICH COMPELLED GIL BLAS TO SEEK ANOTHER 
 
 SITUATION 301 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHOM GIL BLAS SERVED AFTER THE DEATH OF DON MATHIAS 
 
 DE SILVA ......... 309 
 
 ' CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHICH IS NO LONGER THAN THE LAST . . . . .314 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HOW THE ACTORS LIVED TOGETHER, AND IN WHAT MANNER 
 
 THEY TREATED AUTHORS . . . . . .320 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 GIL BLAS ACQUIRES A TASTE FOR THE STAGE. HE GIVES 
 HIMSELF UP TO THE PLEASURES OF A THEATRICAL LIFE, 
 BUT SOON BECOMES DISGUSTED WITH IT 327
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 Designed and Etched by Ad. Lalauze. 
 
 I. PORTRAIT OF LESAGE .... To face Title. 
 
 II. GIL BLAS ARRESTED BY THE ROBBERS . . 20 
 
 III. LEONARDA COMFORTING THE LADY ... 60 
 
 IV. VISIT OF THE COUSIN OF DONNA MENCIA . 98 
 V. THE ARREST OF CAMILLA 158 
 
 VI. GIL BLAS AND THE BARBER MEETING WITH THE 
 
 ACTOR 210 
 
 VII. GIL BLAS INTRODUCED TO ARSENIA 314
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 
 
 LESAGE'S masterpiece, Gil Bias of Santillana, is the 
 most widely known of all European works of fiction 
 with the single exception of Don Quixote. It is a 
 book to be studied as well as enjoyed. Though the 
 world through which we follow Gil Bias may often 
 remind us of the old comedy-world of intrigue and 
 moral topsy-turviness the world of flippant valets 
 and roguish ladies-maids, of pliant duennas and arch 
 lovers none can read the story without finding in it 
 one of the deepest criticisms of life ever penned. Of 
 the vivid character painting, the penetrating observa- 
 tion, the lavish inventiveness, the vivacity of the 
 narrative, no word need here be said. One remark, 
 however, may perhaps be made in regard to the book's 
 popularity in this country. A living poet and critic 
 has observed that no third French author has ever 
 found such acceptance and sympathy among English- 
 men as Rabelais and Moliere, in the writings of both 
 of whom an "English note," a "northern flavour," is, 
 he points out, plainly recognisable. Surely this " north- 
 ern flavour" is equally perceptible in Lesage's work. 
 French humour seems in general to tend either to 
 harden into the grim and sardonic, or to effervesce in 
 sparkling levity. But Lesage's humour has body as 
 well as "brightness, breadth and geniality, as well as 
 shrewdness and point. He thus displays qualities 
 which we are inclined to think peculiarly characteristic 
 of English humourists a fact to which the popularity 
 
 b
 
 vi ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 of his work in this country may be in a measure attri- 
 buted. His work has certainly found as wide an ac- 
 ceptance among us as either Moliere's or Eabelais' ; Gil 
 Bias and Laura, Fabricio and Don Raphael are familiar 
 to many who have only heard vaguely of Panurge or 
 Alceste, of Friar John or Monsieur Jourdain. 
 
 Lesage possesses the art of describing, in a fresh, 
 pure, and simple style, that which is not pure, and of 
 touching the evils of his time lightly, but always on 
 the weak spot. Gil Bias tells his own adventures, and 
 relates his illusions, his struggles, his failures and suc- 
 cesses, with unimpaired cheerfulness and good-humoured 
 philosophy. He dilates and reflects on all he sees, and 
 exercises his wit as well on his own history as on the 
 actions of the persons amongst whom he lives. His 
 narrative is simple and drawn from the life ; and yet 
 there is hardly a feature of the picture which does not 
 aim at satirising the foibles of mankind. Gil Bias 
 spares nothing and nobody, and even his own short- 
 comings are exposed with sparkling drollery and venge- 
 ful frankness, though he gives himself credit and to 
 others as well for the upwellings of a better nature. 
 He is a true type of men kindly disposed and not 
 evil-intentioned, but withal weak in the flesh and 
 unable always to resist temptation, even whilst he 
 knows that he will repent of it afterwards. 
 
 Lesage, in his one-act farce, Le Temple de Memoir e, 
 represented at the Fair St Laurent in 1725, and after- 
 wards at the theatre of the Palais Royal, ridiculed the 
 exaggerated admiration for Voltaire then only known 
 by the tragedies of CEdipe, Artemire, and Mariamne, 
 and through his poem of La Ligue, a feeble and first 
 sketch of the Henriade. A short delineation of this 
 farce, which is now but seldom read, will show in what
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. vii 
 
 way Voltaire was made fun of. Lesage's farce, inter- 
 spersed with songs, opens with the appearance of Folly 
 and Pierrot. The first bewails the misfortune that so 
 many men are anxious to flirt with her, but that none 
 seems to wish to marry her ; whereupon her confidant 
 advises her to adopt the name of Glory, and to pro- 
 mise a perennial name in history to him who will 
 make her his wife, for "poets are not the only persons 
 who love to be mdche-lauriers and amateurs defumee." 
 Fame approves of this advice ; Folly thereupon shakes 
 her bauble, and, as if by magic, the Temple of Memory 
 arises on the top of a steep hill. Various suitors for 
 her hand now come upon the stage. First, a conqueror, 
 whose only delight is fighting, bullets, pistols, and 
 knives, and who declares it as his opinion that " any 
 one at the head of a goodly number of cavalry, in- 
 fantry, and artillery has a right to another man's pro- 
 perty." Then a rich miller makes her a proposal. 
 Next an artist asks for her hand, dressed as a Harle- 
 quin, who professes to be a good fellow, promises to be 
 very uxorial, and shows Folly how to borrow different 
 colours from his variegated coat. Folly, disguised as 
 Glory, recommends him to marry a rich woman, and 
 not herself, for then he will be sure to die on a dung- 
 hill. But the artist replies that he will be happy to 
 live in her company on such a malodorous spot, where- 
 upon Folly, carried away by enthusiasm, exclaims, 
 Vivent les Gueux! an exclamation which the great 
 French song-writer, Be'ranger, utilised, about ninety 
 years later, as the last line of the burden of his song, 
 Les Gueux. The poet, M. Tout-Uni, or Mr Quite- 
 Smooth, now appears, and is anxious to obtain the 
 hand of Glory, but is rebuked for his presumption by 
 M. Prone-Vers, Extoller of Verses by whom it is said
 
 viii ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 Voltaire's friend Thie'riot was meant who sues her in 
 the name of that " Phoenix of poets," his illustrissime 
 friend, the celebrissime author of an elegantissime poem, 
 " far superior to all poems past, present, and future, 
 and the praises of which he will never cease to sing." 
 Folly replies that she knows by these hyperbolic epi- 
 thets what kind of Homer is meant. Meanwhile, 
 three other poets arrive as fresh suitors ; and whilst 
 one of them picks up a book from the ground, puns 
 on the name of Voltaire, and says, Je prends mon vol 
 terre d terre, she appears under her own true colours, 
 argues that no difference exists between herself and 
 Glory, and expresses her willingness to marry them all. 
 She had already said of Voltaire's poem, La Liyue 
 
 Dans ce poeme si vante", 
 
 L'art se trouve un peu maltraite". 
 
 Vous arrangez votre matiere 
 
 Sens dessus dessous, 
 
 Sens devant derriere ; 
 
 Et les bons morceaux y sout tous 
 
 Sens devant derriere, 
 
 Sens dessus dessous l 
 
 and now sang in the fifteenth and last scene of the 
 Temple de Memoire 
 
 Un sujet traite par Corneille 
 N'avait qu'un prix tres-incertain ; 
 Mais il devient une merveille, 
 En nous passant de main en main ! 
 Ha ! vraiment voire ! 
 Ziste, zeste et lonla, 
 En grand trio te voila, 
 Dans le Temple de Memoire. 
 
 This couplet refers to Voltaire's tragedy, (Edipes, 
 written when he was only eighteen years old, per- 
 formed in 1718 forty-five times in succession, and 
 
 1 These words are not to be found in the sixth volume of the Tkedtre 
 de la Foire, Amsterdam, Zacharie Chatelain, 1731, in which Le Temple 
 de Mtmoire is published.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. 
 
 published the following year with some letters to u 
 friend, in which the CEdipus of Sophocles, a tragedy 
 of the same name by Corneille, and his own, are 
 analysed. Lesage renewed his attack on the poet 
 ten years later. In the last volume of Gil Bias, 
 which appeared in 1735, there is a portrait of Don 
 Gabriel Triaquero, a fashionable playwright (bk. x. 
 ch. 5), whom everybody runs to see, for no better 
 reason than that he is fashionable, and which, it was 
 generally believed, was intended for Voltaire. When, 
 in 1752, five years after Lesage's death, the Age of 
 Louis XIV. was published, the then celebrated Vol- 
 taire saw his way to pay off a literary grudge, and 
 could not resist the temptation. He says in this 
 work : " Gil Bias is still read because it is true to 
 nature ; but it is entirely taken from the Spanish 
 romance called La Vidad de lo Escudiero Dom Marcos 
 d'Obrego" l This criticism was soon followed by others. 
 
 1 Ticknor, in his History of Spanish Literature, vol. iii., per. 2, ch. 
 34, observes : " Marcos de Obregon has been occasionally a good deal dis- 
 cussed, both by those who have read it and those who have not, from 
 the use Lesage has been supposed to have made of it in the composition 
 of Gil Bias. . . . That Lesage had seen the Marcos de Obregon there 
 can be no doubt, and more that he made some use of it in the compo- 
 sition of Gil Bias. This is apparent at once by the story which con- 
 stitutes its preface, and which is taken from a similar story in the 
 Pr61ogo to the same Spanish romance ; and it is no less plain frequently 
 afterwards, in the body of the work, where the trick played on the 
 vanity of Gil Bias, as he is going to Salamanca (Liv. i. c. 2), is sub- 
 stantially the same with that played on Marcos (Relacion i. Desc. 9). 
 where the stories of Camilla (Gil Bias, Liv. i. c. 16 ; Marcos, Rel. iii. 
 Desc. 8) and of Mergellina (Gil Bias, Liv. ii. c. 7 ; Marcos, Rel. i. 
 Desc. 3), with many other matters of less consequence, correspond in 
 a manner not to be mistaken. But this was the way with Lesage, 
 who has used Estevanillo Gonsalez, Guevara, Roxas, Antonio de Men- 
 doza, and others, with no more ceremony. He seemed, too, to care 
 very little about concealment, for one of the personages in his Gil Bias 
 is called Marcos de Obregon. But the idea that the Gil Bias was taken 
 entirely from the Marcos de Obregon of Espinel, or was very seriously 
 indebted to that work, is ... absurd."
 
 x ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 Marmontel, a great friend of Voltaire, is only half- 
 hearted in his notice of Gil Bias, and writes of it as 
 follows : 
 
 " Satirical romance, such as I conceive it, would demand at one 
 time the pen of Lucian, of La Bruyere, or of Hamilton, at another 
 time the pen of Juvenal, not to say the brush of Moliere. Lesage's 
 pen would suffice, with a deeper study of manners, and with a 
 more familiar and intimate knowledge of a certain rank of society, 
 which the author of Gil Bias had not sufficiently observed, or 
 which he only saw from a distance." 
 
 It was not until the commencement of the present 
 century that Gil Bias began to secure that high repu- 
 tation as a work of art which is now generally ac- 
 corded to it. One of the first literary critics who 
 ranked it amongst the best specimens of French 
 romance was La Harpe. He says : 
 
 " Gil Bias is a masterpiece ; it is one of the few novels which 
 are always read again with pleasure ; it is a moral and lively pic- 
 ture of human life ; every rank appears in it, to receive or to give 
 a lesson. Here instruction is never without charms. The ntile 
 dulci should be the motto of this excellent book, which is flavoured 
 throughout with pleasantry of the right sort. Many passages have 
 become proverbial, as for instance the sermons of the Archbishop 
 of Granada. The interrogatory of the servants of Samuel Simon 
 is worthy of Moliere and is a cutting satire of the Inquisition ! In 
 other parts of the book we find pictures of a reception of a first 
 secretary, of the impertinence of actors, of the vanity of upstarts, 
 of the folly of poets, of the luxurious living of canons, of the in- 
 terior of noblemen's houses, of the character of the great, of the 
 manners of their servants ! Gil Bias is a school for the world. 
 People say that the author scarcely depicts any other men but 
 rogues. What does it matter if the pictures can be recognised ] 
 Besides the author exercises his profession, for novels and comedy 
 are a kind of satire. The excess of subordinate details is also cast 
 in his teeth ; but these details are all real, and none of them is 
 unimportant. He did not fall into that gratuitous profusion of 
 minute circumstances which is nowadays put for the truth and 
 which is of no significance. We know the characters of Gil Bias ; 
 we have lived with them ; we continually meet them. Why 1 
 Because in his portraiture of them there is not a single stroke 
 without its design and its effect. Lesage had much wit, but he uses 
 such skill in concealing it, he is so fond of hiding himself behind
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xi 
 
 his characters, he is so little concerned about himself, that one 
 must have good eyes to perceive the author in the work, and to 
 appreciate both at the same time." 
 
 In 1822 the French Academy offered a prize for 
 the best essay on the merits of Lesage, and three of 
 these written for this competition those of M. Patin, 
 M. Malitourne, and M. Saint-Marc Girardin have 
 been printed. From the first of these essays I quote 
 another able criticism on Gil Bias. M. Patin writes : 
 
 " I cannot say whether Lesage himself was deceived by his art ; 
 but is there one of his readers who has not at some time or other 
 believed real the life-like pictures he draws in Gil Bias? His 
 characters were known to us before he showed them to us, and 
 since then we have often met them in the world. We might be 
 tempted to say to him what a comic poet said to an ancient critic : 
 ' life, and Menander, which of you imitated the other 1 ' Each 
 of the actors who play a part in this vast comedy has to represent 
 to us a particular social class, but the hero of the piece may be 
 regarded as the representative of all humanity. He is not much 
 like the heroes of romance, who are for the most part chosen from 
 outside the common herd, and who are distinguished from it by 
 their feelings and their adventures. It is from the crowd, and as 
 it were at random, that Lesage has taken his Gil Bias. He is ever 
 attempting to confound him with the crowd ; he gathers together 
 in this one person the most general characteristics, I was going to 
 say almost the most vulgar characteristics, of humanity out of 
 which he composes an ideal of weakness, inconsistency, and selfish- 
 ness, to which everyone might conceive that he has contributed 
 some feature. Born to be good, but easily drawn to be bad, 
 whether Gil Bias gives way in spite of himself to the vicious tend- 
 encies of nature, or because he imitates the shortcomings which he 
 is the first to condemn in others ; aiming in his actions only at his 
 own advantage, and thus mixing up his interested calculations with 
 the best emotions ; profiting by experience acquired at his own 
 cost, in order to deceive in his turn those who have deceived him ; 
 abandoning himself without too much scruple to retaliations of this 
 description, and readily quitting the ranks of the dupes for those 
 of the rogues ; yet capable of repentance and self-examination; pre- 
 serving to the last his inclination for uprightness, being firmly 
 resolved to become again an honest man on the first favourable 
 opportunity ; such, in brief, are the feelings displayed by Gil Bias 
 in the various situations wherein he finds himself, and which are 
 no more romantic than is his character."
 
 xii ADVENTURES OP GIL BLAS. 
 
 A modern French litterateur 1 has well remarked : 
 
 " Gil Bias . . . reveals the aptitude of the French mind for 
 psychological analysis; that impatience which renders it unfit for 
 slow and multiplied observations, the ardour to hasten to the goal 
 without devoting any time to linger on the way. Gil Bias is a 
 true novel of morals and manners ; moral observation there takes a 
 form which English analysis has never known. The different 
 chapters of Gil Bias are, so to speak, not different parts of the 
 same work ; each of these chapters is complete in itself and forms 
 a distinct whole. They are, as it were, the dramatised paragraphs 
 of a popular La Bruyere. Lesage takes an isolated observation, 
 gives it a suitable name, expresses it quickly by a characteristic 
 word, and continues his tale." 
 
 The great English romance writer, Sir Walter Scott, 
 says of Gil Bias, 2 
 
 " Few have ever read this charming book without remembering, 
 as one of the most delightful occupations of their life, the time 
 which they first employed in the perusal ; and there are few who do 
 not occasionally turn back to its pages with all the vivacity which 
 attends the recollection of early love. If there is anything like 
 truth in Gray's opinion, that to lie upon a couch and read new 
 novels was no bad idea of Paradise, how would that beatitude be 
 enhanced could human genius afford us another Gil Bias. . . . 
 The principal character in whose name and with whose commen- 
 taries the story is told, is a conception which has never yet been 
 equalled in fictitious composition, yet which seems so very real 
 that we cannot divest ourselves of the opinion that we listen to 
 the narrative of one who has really gone through the scenes of 
 which he speaks to us. ... Lesage, though, like Cervantes, he 
 considers the human figures which he paints as his principal object, 
 fails not to relieve them by exquisite morsels of landscape, slightly 
 touched, indeed, but with the highest keeping and the most marked 
 effect. In the History of Gil Bias is also exhibited that art of 
 fixing the attention of the reader and creating, as it were, a reality 
 even in fiction itself, not only by a strict attention to costume and 
 locality, but by a minuteness, and at the same time a vivacity of 
 narrative, comprehending many trifling circumstances which might 
 be thought to have escaped every one's memory, excepting that of 
 an actual eye-witness." 
 
 1 Emile Moutegut, La Nouvelle Litterature Jrancaise, Revue des deu.v 
 Mondes, August 15, 1859. 
 
 2 Walter Scott's Prose Works. Biographical Notice of Alain Rene le 
 Sage, vol. iii., 1834.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xiii 
 
 One of the latest and ablest of modern critics, Mr 
 George Saintsbury, in speaking of Lesage's master- 
 piece, says also : 
 
 " Kow-a-days, perhaps, when the naturalist school, in its scorn 
 of the namby-pamby, rushes into the opposite extreme and will 
 have nothing but vice and ugliness, such a book as Gil Bias is 
 infinitely more instructive, as well as more refreshing to read, than 
 all the rose-pink pictures of impossible virtues and all the half-told 
 tales of life with the dark side of it kept out of sight that literature 
 can muster. . . . Here is a book as free from cant or from taint of 
 the Mrtsie de I'enseignement as any one can desire, and which yet 
 leaves no bad taste in the mouth, meddles with no abnormal crimes, 
 and suggests as a total reflexion not merely that all's well that ends 
 well, but that in most cases with fair luck all does end fairly well. 
 . . . Within his circle he (Lesage) hardly yields to the master 
 himself. Indeed, Gil Bias may hold his head in any company, 
 even in the company of Shakspeare's children. . . . There is 
 another point of importance in which Lesage has a resemblance to 
 Shakespeare. He has not merely in some not small measure the 
 quality of universality, but he has, and this in very great measure, 
 the quality of detachment. He seems to look at his characters 
 with the same inscrutable impartiality as that with which their 
 creator contemplates lago and Goneril, Macbeth and Claudius. . . . 
 With those who have considered novel-writing seriously, he (Lesage) 
 will always rank as one of the princes of character-drawing in its 
 largest and most human sense, while with those who busy them- 
 selves with the history of French literature he will always hold the 
 rank of the best writer of the first quarter of the eighteenth century." 
 
 The very trouble Lesage took to render his novel 
 perfect, the pains he bestowed to become intimately 
 acquainted with the habits and customs of the 
 Spaniards of the times he describes, served as a reason 
 for attacking him and his book, and for accusing him 
 of impudent plagiarism. Father Juan d'Tsla, a well- 
 known Spanish author, stigmatised Lesage as having 
 stolen Gil Bias from a manuscript which an unknown 
 Andalusian advocate had given to the French littera- 
 teur whilst in Spain. The padre had his own Spanish 
 translation of the French novel printed and published 
 in Madrid in 1787, omitting some parts and altering
 
 xiv ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 others, adding to it a long and not successful continua- 
 tion, and stating on the title page that Gil Bias was 
 " now restored to its country and native language by 
 a Spaniard who does not choose to have his nation 
 trifled with." But nobody believed in the Spanish 
 advocate and in the manuscript given to Lesage in 
 Spain, for he had never been there. In 1818 Count 
 Franyois de Neufchateau read a dissertation before the 
 French Academy, in which he tried to show that 
 Lesage was the author of Gil Bias, and this disserta- 
 tion he enlarged, improved, and published in 1820, as 
 a preface to an edition of this novel. 1 The same 
 year, a learned Spanish exile, Don Juan Antonio 
 Llorente, who was then living in Paris, and who had 
 just published a History of the Inquisition in Spain, 
 presented to the French Academy a Memoir of Critical 
 Observations, in which he attempted to establish that 
 Gil Bias had not been written by Lesage, but by a 
 Spaniard. This Memoir was forwarded to a com- 
 mittee, composed of MM. de Neufchateau, Raynouard, 
 and Lemontey ; but no report seems ever to have 
 been made. Eighteen months after the presentation 
 of Llorente 's Memoir, the first of these gentlemen read 
 to the Academy an Examen du nouveau systeme sur 
 I'auteur de Gil Bias, ou reponse aux Observations 
 critiques de M. Llorente, which was published the 
 same year. This was shortly afterwards replied to by 
 
 1 This dissertation was really written by Victor Hugo, then a very 
 young man. This is partly hinted at by the words Marius uses in the 
 MiseroMes : " She (Cosette) would not fail to esteem and value me if 
 she knew that I am the real author of the dissertation on Marcos 
 Obregon de la Bonda, which M. Francois de Neufchateau appropriated, 
 and used as a preface to his edition of Gil Ulas;" and is absolutely con- 
 firmed in a chapter of Victor Hugo raconte par un temoin de sa vie, a 
 work said to be written by Madame Hugo.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xv 
 
 M. Llorente, who amplified and sent forth, in the form 
 of a book, his Observations critiques sur le Roman de 
 Gil Bias de Santillane, in which he maintains that 
 this novel was the work of the Spanish historian de 
 Solis, chiefly because no one but this gentleman could 
 have planned a similar fiction at the time Gil Bias is 
 supposed to have been written. Llorente's book is 
 divided into fourteen chapters, of which the first and 
 twelfth contain the pretended history of the manuscript, 
 whilst the other ten attempt to prove its existence. 
 The second chapter is called A Chronology of the Life 
 of Gil Bias, and gives the days and the months when 
 certain events of the novel are supposed to have 
 happened. According to this chapter, Gil Bias, 
 born in 1588, was about thirty- two or thirty- three 
 years old when Philip III. died, and was fifty-eight 
 or fifty-nine when he married for the second time in 
 1646. 
 
 In the North American Review for October 1827 
 appeared an article Who wrote Gil Bias ? of which 
 the author, the late Mr A. H. Everett, inclioes to the 
 belief that de Solis, and not Lesage, was the author of 
 Gil Bias. He bases his opinion chiefly on Llorente's 
 Observations, and states frankly that he had not seen 
 the Examen of the Count de Neufchateau, in defence 
 of that novel, but had derived the latter's reasons from 
 the work of Llorente. Mr Everett's arguments in 
 favour of a Spanish origin of Gil Bias are : 
 
 1. The minute acquaintance of the author with the 
 political, geographical, and statistical situation of 
 Spain, and with the manners of its inhabitants. 
 
 2. The considerable number of errors, more or less 
 obvious, principally in the manner of writing the 
 names of places and persons, and most naturally
 
 xvi ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 accounted for by considering them as the errors of a 
 person transcribing names with which he was not per- 
 fectly familiar. 
 
 3. The mixture of Spanish idioms, and even Spanish 
 words and phrases, to be found in Gil Bias. 
 
 4. The illustrating, by an example in French, les 
 intermedes font beaute dans une comedie, the verbal 
 niceties of the style of the Spanish poet, Gongora. 
 
 5. The probability of Lesage having taken Gil Bias 
 from the same source as The Bachelor of Salamanca, 
 which came out in 1738 as an avowed translation 
 from an unpublished Spanish manuscript. 
 
 These same arguments, amplified and worked out, 
 as well as many fresh ones, have been used in an 
 article also called Who wrote Gil Bias? which 
 appeared in the June number of Blackwood's Magazine 
 for 1844, and in which are ably maintained the views 
 of those who persist in believing that Gil Bias is of 
 Spanish origin. Following chiefly Llorente, the author 
 of this article contends that Gil Bias is translated from 
 a manuscript written in Spanish by Don Antonio de 
 Solis y Kibadeneira, author of Historia de la Con- 
 quista de Mejico. The reasons given for this asser- 
 tion are : 1, that this novel abounds in facts and 
 allusions which none but a Spaniard could know ; and, 
 2, that it abounds in errors which no Spaniard could 
 make. 
 
 It is further averred that Lesage obtained the 
 manuscript from the library of his friend and patron, 
 the Abbe de Lyonne, third son of Hugo, Marquis de 
 Lyonne, a lover of Spanish literature, who was sent on 
 a secret mission to Spain in 1656 (1658), and who, 
 whilst there, lived in great intimacy with Louis de 
 Haro, Duke of Montoro. As an additional argument, it
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xvii 
 
 is mentioned that the Bachelor of Salamanca, published 
 in 1738, which the author himself admitted to be a 
 translation from a Spanish manuscript, and of which 
 he never produced the original, bears a great similarity 
 to Gil Bias, and contains part of that manuscript re- 
 lating to America, and not found in the last mentioned 
 work of Lesage. Nineteen points of resemblance are 
 brought forward to prove this. It is also argued that 
 the frequent allusions in Gil Bias to some of the most 
 remarkable characters of the court of Louis XIV. only 
 demonstrate " that the extremes of society are very 
 uniform . . . and the abuses of government . . . the 
 same, or nearly so, in every country." 
 
 The facts and allusions which none but a Spaniard 
 could know are as follows : 
 
 1. The custom of travelling on mules, the coin 
 ducats, the begging with a rosary as well as the ex- 
 torting money in the manner which Gil Bias delineates, 
 and the subterranean caves described by Captain 
 Eolando. 
 
 2. The words dire son rosaire, rezar su rosario, as 
 foreign to the habits of a vieux militaire ; travelling 
 the whole day without meeting anyone ; the escorting 
 of a coach, and the drawing of that vehicle by mules. 
 
 3. The treatment of prisoners in Spain. 
 
 4. The exact description of the class of women 
 known in Spain by the name Beata. 
 
 5. The dinner hour at twelve during the reigns of 
 Philip III. and Philip IV. 
 
 6. The description of the Spanish innkeepers, so 
 different from the French, as well as the intimate 
 knowledge displayed by Gil Bias of the houses of 
 noblemen at Madrid (bk. ii. ch. 7, and bk. vii. ch. 13). 
 
 7. The acquaintance with Spanish habits and
 
 xviii ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 customs, as Mergelina putting on her mantle to go to 
 mass (bk. ii. ch. 7) ; Gil Bias joining the muleteer (bk. 
 iii. ch. 1) ; Kolando informing Gil Bias that his 
 comrades were three days in prison before being put 
 to death (bk. iii. ch. 2) ; the allusion to the Anda- 
 lusian way of managing a cloak (bk. iii. ch. 5) ; and 
 to the Cdballeros en Plaza, or amateur gentlemen 
 bull-fighters (bk. iv. ch. 7) ; the dress of the inquisitor 
 and his servants ; the inkstand called Tintero de Escri- 
 bano, which the Spanish scriveners always carry about 
 with them, as well as the whole scene between Am- 
 brosia de Lamela and Simon (bk. vi. ch. 1); the custom 
 of carrying wine in leathern bags (bk. ii. ch. 6); the 
 appointment of Ignatio to the archdeaconry of 
 Granada, by virtue of a particular bull (bk. x. ch. 12); 
 and the allusion which the Count Duke of Olivarez 
 makes to Don Alphonso de Leyva about the objection 
 of the Aragonese to be governed by any other but the 
 king himself, or by a person of the royal blood (bk. xi. 
 ch. 12). 
 
 8. The use in Gil Bias of " Don" prefixed in Spanish 
 to the Christian and never to the surname, as Don 
 Juan, whilst its synonym " Dom" is in France pre- 
 fixed to the surname, as Dom Calmet ; " dame " as a 
 translation of senora, and the latter word itself; as 
 well as the employment of many other Spanish expres- 
 sions and idioms, such as senor escudero, senor cabal- 
 lero, famosa comedia, hidalgo, contador mayor, oidor, 
 escribano, hospital de nines, olla podrida, marmalada 
 de berengaria, picaro, &c. 
 
 9. The knowledge that during the reign of Philip 
 IV. the actors lodged in the provinces in the buildings 
 in which dramatic performances were represented. 
 
 1 0. The idiomatic Spanish verses which Don Gaston
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xix 
 
 de Cogollos sings in the Tower of Segovia (bk. ix. 
 ch. 5). 
 
 11. The words which Lesage has evidently trans- 
 lated from the Spanish, such as seigneur, dame, 
 cavalier, as well as many expressions of Spanish 
 origin, such as a Dieu ne plaise, Us sont tons plus 
 durs que des Juifs, graces au del, patriarche des 
 Indes, gar con de famille, benefice simple, gar con de 
 bien et d'honneur, fameux directeur, labour eur, dis- 
 ciple, viceroi, Juif comme Pilate, dormir la sieste, 
 rendre de tres-Jiumbles graces, &c. 
 
 12. The local knowledge of Spanish towns, as shown 
 by Gil Bias, such as the mentioning of a church at 
 Toledo called de los Reyes, the speaking of the Prado 
 of Madrid as the pre de Saint-Jerome, the quoting 
 the Rue des Infantes and the Maison des Repenties 
 in the same town ; and the statement that Lucretia, 
 the repentant mistress of Philip IV., is going into the 
 nunnery of la Incarnacion, reserved expressly for 
 nuns connected in some way with the royal family of 
 Spain. To this should be added the alluding to no 
 less than seventy provinces and large towns in Spain, 
 and to one hundred and three Spanish villages and 
 towns of inferior importance, many of them unknown 
 out of that country. 
 
 13. The citing of the names of thirteen dukes and 
 eight counts, of which four only are fictitious, whilst 
 the title of Admirante de Castilia, also quoted, did 
 not exist when Gil Bias was published ; the naming 
 of about sixty persons celebrated in their day among 
 the inhabitants of the Peninsula, belonging to dis- 
 tinguished families, and the employment of twenty- 
 nine names, really Spanish, but applied to imaginary 
 characters, as well as forty-five names " intended to
 
 xx ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 explain the character of those to whom they are given, 
 like Mrs Slipslop and Parson Trulliber in English, re- 
 tained by Lesage, notwithstanding the loss of their 
 original signification." 
 
 The errors which no Spaniard would make are : 
 
 1. The orthographical mistakes which abound in 
 Gil Bias, and which prove that Lesage transcribed his 
 novel from a manuscript, such as Corcuelo instead of 
 Corzuelo, Manjuelo for Majuelo, Londona for Lon- 
 dono, carochas for corozas, cantador for contador, 
 Segiar for Seguiar, Moyadas for Miajadas, Priego 
 for Pliego. 
 
 2. Lesage's ignorance of Spanish etiquette in sup- 
 posing Senor and Senoria to be equivalent, the latter 
 title being only given to people of high station and 
 illustrious rank. 
 
 3. Lesage's interpolation of the anecdote about the 
 rector of the University of Salamanca being found in 
 the streets intoxicated ; which does not tally with 
 Spanish manners. 
 
 4. The many errors in the spelling of Spanish places, 
 which go far to prove that Lesage did not copy these 
 names from printed books. 
 
 5. The historical errors to be found in Gil Bias, 
 and of which only one, which occurs in the story of 
 Don Pompeyo de Castro (bk. iii. ch. 7), is confessed 
 by Lesage, " though the original Spanish author may 
 have fallen into some of them." 
 
 6. The errors of Lesage himself, such as Donna 
 Mencia's first husband dying in the service of the 
 King of Portugal, five or six years after the beginning 
 of the seventeenth century ; Le Mariage de Ven- 
 geance (bk. iv. ch. 4), which did not take place, as 
 described, in the time of Philip II., but three hundred
 
 INTRODUCTOKY NOTICE. xxi 
 
 years before, during the Sicilian Vespers, in 1283 ; Gil 
 Bias, after his release from the Tower of Segovia, tell- 
 ing his patron, Alphonso de Leyva, that four months 
 before he had held an important office under the 
 Spanish crown (bk. ix. ch. 10), while he states to 
 Philip IV. that he was six months in prison at Segovia 
 (bk. xi. ch. 2) ; and, above all, the error of Scipio (bk. 
 xi. ch. 1) returning to his master in 1621, and inform- 
 ing him that Philip III. had died, that the Cardinal 
 Duke of Lerma had lost his office, and that the Count 
 of Olivarez was appointed prime minister, whilst in 
 reality the Duke of Lerma had been dismissed three 
 years before the death of the King, and was succeeded 
 by his son, the Duke of Uzeda. Hence it is inferred 
 that Lesage, in transcribing from the supposed Spanish 
 manuscript, left out the words " the Duke of Uzeda, 
 son of," for that nobleman was really turned out of 
 office at the death of Philip III. 
 
 Moreover, the reasons given why Lesage claims to 
 be the author of Gil Bias, but merely the translator of 
 the Bachelor of Salamanca, are that the manuscript 
 of the Bachelor " had been long in the possession of 
 the Marquis de Lyonne and his son before it became 
 his property; and, although tolerably certain that it 
 had never been diligently perused, the French author 
 could not be sure that it had not attracted superficial 
 notice, and that the name was not known to many 
 people." Then, after expressing " the tenderness to 
 the friend and companion of our boyhood, and grati- 
 tude to him who has enlivened many an hour, and 
 added so much to our stock of intellectual happiness," 
 the article in Blackwood ends by affirming that "the 
 main fact contended for by M. Llorente that is, the 
 Spanish origin of Gil Bias is undeniable ; and [that]
 
 xxii ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 the subordinate and collateral points of his system [are] 
 invested with a high degree of probability." 
 
 Before attempting to answer the objections brought 
 against the French origin of Gil Bias, the opinions of 
 a few literary men who were able and willing to judge 
 that question may prepare the way for my own con- 
 clusions. 
 
 Villemain 1 refutes the accusation that Lesage was 
 indebted for Gil Bias to a Spanish original. The argu- 
 ment is too long to quote entire, and the reader may be 
 content with a short passage from the conclusion : 
 
 "We do not mean entirely to repudiate the debt owing in this 
 matter to Spain, but it is a different kind of indebtedness from what 
 it has been described to be. Our Gil Bias is not stolen, whatever 
 may have been said by Father Isla, and quite recently by the 
 learned Llorente. No mysterious manuscript was found by Lesage 
 and hidden from all the world ; but doubtless he cleverly culled 
 that rational pleasantry, that philosophy, grave yet sweet, sarcastic 
 yet agreeable, which sparkles in Cervantes and in Quevedo, and 
 whereof a few happy touches are always to be met with in the 
 Spanish moralists and story-tellers. To this free and general imita- 
 tion Lesage adds the savour of the best of antiquity : in his style 
 he is the pupil of Terence and of Horace." 
 
 Another champion of Lesage's claim to the author- 
 ship of Gil Bias is Sir Walter Scott, who may cer- 
 tainly be accepted as a judge of a novel's claim to 
 originality. This is what he says : 2 - 
 
 " Lesage's claim to originality in this delightful work (Gil Bias) 
 has been idly, I had almost said ungratefully, contested by those 
 critics, who conceive they detect a plagiarist wherever they see a 
 resemblance in the general subject of a work, to one which has 
 been before treated by an inferior artist. It is a favourite theme of 
 laborious dulness to trace out such coincidences ; because they 
 appear to reduce genius of the higher order to the usual standard 
 of humanity, and, of course, to bring the author nearer a level with 
 his critics. ... It is therefore no disparagement to Lesage, that 
 long before his time there existed in other countries, and particularly 
 in Spain, that species of fiction to which Gil Bias may be in some 
 
 1 Tableau de la literature du XVlIl e Siecle, lecture XI. 
 
 2 Walter Scott's Prose Works, Biographical Notice of Alain Rene h 
 Sage, vol. iii., 1 834.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxiii 
 
 respects said to belong. ... . If Lesage borrowed anything from 
 Spain, excepting some general hints ... it may have been some 
 of the detached novels, which, as in the DiaUe Boiteux, are inter- 
 woven in the history. . . . It is no doubt wonderful, that merely 
 by dint of acquaintance with Spanish literature, Lesage should 
 have become so perfectly intimate, as he is admitted to be on all 
 hands, with the Spanish customs, manners and habits, as to 
 conduct the reader through four volumes without once betraying 
 the secret that the work was not composed by a native of Spain. 
 . . . Lesage's capacity of identifying himself with the child of his 
 imagination, in circumstances which he himself never was placed, 
 though rare in the highest degree, is not altogether singular ; De 
 Foe, in particular, possessed it in a most extraordinary degree. It 
 may be added, that this strict and accurate attention to costume is 
 confined to externals, so far as the principal personage is concerned. 
 Gil Bias, though wearing the Golillo, Capa, and Spada, with the 
 most pure Castilian grace, thinks and acts with all the vivacity of 
 a Frenchman, and displays, in many respects, the peculiar senti- 
 ments of one. . . . The whole concoction of Gil Bias appears to 
 me as original, in that which constitutes the essence of a composi- 
 tion, as it is inexpressibly delightful." 
 
 One of the best Spanish scholars of modern times, 
 the late Mr George Ticknor, says : 
 
 " But there is a ready answer to all such conjectural criticism. 
 Lesage proceeded, as an author in romantic fiction, just as he had 
 done when he wrote for the public theatre ; and the results at which 
 he arrived in both cases are remarkably similar. In the drama he 
 began with translations and imitations from the Spanish, such as 
 his Point of Honor, which is taken from Eoxas, and his Don Cesar 
 Ursino, which is from Calderon ; but afterwards, when he better 
 understood his own talent and had acquired confidence from success, 
 he came out with his Turcaret, a wholly original comedy, which far 
 surpassed all he had before attempted, and showed how much he 
 had been wasting his strength as an imitator. Just so he did in 
 romance-writing. He began by translating the Don Quixotte of 
 Avellaneda, and remodelling and enlarging the Diablo Cojuelo of 
 Guevara. But the Gil Bias, the greatest of all his works in prose 
 fiction, is the result of his confirmed strength ; and, in its charac- 
 teristic merits, is as much his own as the Turcaret. 
 
 " On this point the internal evidence is as decisive as the external. 
 The frequent errors of this remarkable romance in Spanish geography 
 and history show that it could hardly have been the work of a 
 Spaniard, and certainly not of a Spaniard so well informed as Solis ; 
 its private anecdotes of society in the reigns of Louis the Fourteenth 
 and Louis the Fifteenth prove it to have been almost necessarily 
 written by a Frenchman ; while, at the same time, the freedom with
 
 xxiv ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 which, as we go on, we find that everything Spanish is plundered 
 now a tale taken from Marcos de Obregon, now an intrigue or a 
 story from a play of Mendoza, of Roxas, or of Figueroa points 
 directly to Lesage's old habits, and to his practised skill in turning 
 to account everything that he deemed fitted to his purpose. The 
 result is, that he has, by the force of his genius, produced a work of 
 great brilliancy; in which, from his known familiarity with Spanish 
 literature and his unscrupulous use of it, he has preserved the 
 national character with such fidelity, that a Spaniard is almost 
 always unwilling to believe that the Gil Bias, especially now that 
 he has it in the spirited if not uniformly pure Castilian version of 
 Father Isla, could have been written by anybody but one of his 
 own countrymen." " 
 
 Finally, Mr George Saintsbury, already mentioned, 
 concludes : 
 
 " When we dismiss merely hypothetical argument and examine 
 the matter coolly, we find first that there is absolutely no external 
 evidence that Lesage did in any way plagiarise Gil Bias ; secondly, 
 that there is overwhelming internal evidence that, while he made 
 free use of his Spanish predecessors for details, for local colour and 
 so forth, the essential part of the book is fairly his own." 
 
 A late German author and well-known Spanish 
 scholar, Charles Frederic Franceson, published in 
 1857 a pamphlet, written in French, Essai sur la 
 
 1 History of Spanish Literature, 4th Edition, Boston, 1872, Vol. HI., 
 Period III., ch. iv. Mr Ticknor says in note 20 of the same chapter, 
 "I have already noticed how much Lesage took from Marcos de 
 Obregon, besides this the adventures of Don Eafael with the Seigneur 
 de Moyadas in Gil Bias (bk. v. ch. 1), are taken from Los Empenos 
 del Mentir of Mendoza the story of the Mariage de Vengeance (bk. 
 iv. ch. 4), is from the play of Roxas, Casarse por Vengarse the story 
 of Aurora de Guzman (bk. iv. ch. 5 and 6), from Todo es enredos Amor, 
 by Diego de Cordoba y Figueroa. . . . Le Point d'ffonneur is from 
 No hay Amigo para Amiga, which is the first play in the Comedias de 
 Roxas, 1680 ; and Don Ce'sar Ursin is from Peor esta que estaba, in 
 Calderon, Comedias, 1763, Tom. III. . . . But of this free use of 
 Spanish fiction, which Lesage took no pains to conceal, the proof is 
 abundant. ... In his Bachelier de Salamanque Lesage goes one step 
 further. On the title-page of this romance, first printed three years 
 after the last volume of Gil Bias appeared, he says expressly that ' it is 
 translated from a Spanish manuscript,' and yet the story of Dona Cintia 
 de la Carrera, in the fifty-fourth and fifty-fifth chapters, is taken from 
 Moreto's Desden con el Desden, a play as well known as any in Spanish 
 literature ; so bold and careless was he in his literary larcenies."
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxv 
 
 Question de I' Originalite de Gil Bias, in which he 
 defends Lesage against the accusations of Llorente. 
 In this essay he argues that The Bachelor of Sala- 
 manca, being published after Gil Bias, can only" be 
 called a weakened reflex of the earlier written novel ; 
 that there are as many Spanish words and phrases in 
 Lesage's avowed translations, Le Diable Boiteux, 
 Guzman d'Alfarache, and Estevanille Gonsalez, as 
 in Gil Bias ; and that Spanish words have not always 
 an equivalent in French, so that pre is not the same as 
 prado, maire as corregidor, &c. He further observes 
 that even Voltaire, who did not know Spanish well, in 
 the first two chapters of his Histoire de Jenni, &c., of 
 which the action takes place at Barcelona, employs a 
 certain number of allegorical names, indicating the 
 character or profession of the personages to which 
 they belong, such as Donna Boca Vermeja (ruddy 
 mouth), Don Inigo y Mendrozo (coward), and some 
 others. He also states that the assertion that Lesage 
 sometimes writes Juan, Pedro, and similar Spanish 
 names, and sometimes Jean, Pierre in French, is not 
 quite correct. The novelist always employs Spanish 
 names when they are written differently from French 
 ones, and often accompanies them by Don; but when 
 they are identical, or nearly so, in both languages, he 
 writes the French form, as Don Gaston, don Alphonse. 
 don Louis, don Felix. Dom is not the equivalent of 
 the Spanish Don, but is applied in French to certain 
 members of religious orders ; dame and maitre are 
 used by Moliere in L'Avare, as dame Claude, maitre 
 Jacques; seigneur and cavalier are only written to 
 give local colouring to Gil Bias; the four lines which 
 Don Gaston de Cogollos sings are possibly taken from 
 a Spanish author, whilst the misspelling of proper
 
 xxvi ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 names, towns, places, &c., is probably owing to printers' 
 errors or to carelessness. M. Franceson gives also in 
 his pamphlet the translation of all the passages which 
 Les'age has borrowed from Espinel's Marcos de 
 Obregon, and a list of Spanish authors laid under con- 
 tribution by the French novel-writer, as well as the 
 original passages of Firenzuola's Italian translation of 
 Apuleius's Golden Ass, from which Gil Bias' adven- 
 tures in the cave of the robbers have been taken. 
 
 Though it seems ridiculous to treat a novel like an 
 historical work, and to verify every date on whicli 
 certain actions of the hero are supposed to have taken 
 place, The Chronology of the Life of Gil Bias, as given 
 by M. Llorente, is incorrect. Gil Bias left Oviedo when 
 he was seventeen years old (bk. i. ch. 1), and about six 
 months afterwards Donna Mencia de Mosquera relates 
 to him that her husband died seven years ago, when the 
 Portuguese army was at Fez (bk. i. ch. 11), As Don 
 Sebastian, King of Portugal, went in 1578 with an army 
 to Morocco, where he was killed the same year, Donna 
 Mencia must have spoken in 1585 ; therefore Gil Bias 
 was born in 1568, and not in 1588, as Llorente says. 
 Then arises the difficulty of explaining how, some time 
 after Donna Mencia's adventure, and after Portugal 
 had been annexed to Spain in 1580, the master of Gil 
 Bias, Don Bernard de Castil-Blazo, could pass for a 
 spy of the King of Portugal (bk. iii. ch. 1), and how 
 Don Pompeyo de Castro could mention a King of 
 Portugal when no such monarch existed Lesage, in 
 the later editions of Gil Bias, altered this potentate 
 into a King of Poland (bk. iii. ch. 7) and how 
 Captain Rolando could say to Gil Bias (bk. iii. ch. 2) 
 that, when he entered the town of Leon, the people 
 would not have been more eager to see him if he had 
 
 O
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxvii 
 
 been a Portuguese general taken prisoner in war. 
 Moreover, Gil Bias was imprisoned in the tower of 
 Segovia a few months before the dismissal of the Duke 
 of Lerma, which took place in 1618. Our hero was 
 then fifty years old, and married Antonia some time 
 afterwards. When the Count-Duke of Olivarez was 
 exiled in 1643, Gil Bias would be more than seventy : 
 yet nothing daunted, he returns to his estate after the 
 count's death in 1646, calls himself a man " who begins 
 to grow old," marries again, twenty-eight years after 
 his first marriage, a young lady between nineteen 
 and twenty, and begets two children, " of whom he 
 devoutly believes himself to be the father." 
 
 Obviously any literary man, before beginning to 
 write a work like Gil Bias, and before narrating 
 the events of such an adventurous career at a distinct 
 period of history and in a particular country, would 
 consult the different travels and descriptions of the 
 land in which his story takes place would, so to speak, 
 try to assimilate himself with the natives, and, by dint 
 of reading and studying, become, as it were, bone of 
 their bone and flesh of their flesh. 
 
 We may suppose that Lesage, whose intellect was 
 decidedly not below the average, did so, for before the 
 first two volumes of Gil Bias made their appearance 
 in 1715, there had been already published many books 
 of travel in Spain, as well as particular descriptions of 
 the different kingdoms, provinces, and towns of that 
 monarchy, eleven of which were printed in Spanish, 
 three in Latin, eighteen in French, two in English, and 
 one in German, 1 though I do not think our author 
 understood these two last languages. He most likely 
 read and studied these books until he became thoroughly 
 
 1 See Boucher de la Richarderie, Bibliotkeque des Voyages, 1808.
 
 xxviii ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 percolated with Spanish habits and manners, and could 
 impart true Spanish flavour to his style. In order to 
 convince myself that I was not wrong in my surmise, 
 I carefully examined the following works, and often 
 have referred in the notes of the present edition of Gil 
 Bias to some of their passages, though these works are 
 merely a fifth of those given by La Bieharderie. 
 
 1. Inventaire general des plus curieuses recherches 
 des royaumes d'Espagne par Salazar, traduit de 
 I'Espagnol. Paris, 1615. 
 
 2. Relation d'un Voyage dEspagne ou est exacte- 
 rnent descrit I' Estat de la Cour de ce Royaume et de 
 son Gouvernement. Paris, 1664. This work is attri- 
 buted in the Bibliotlieque des Voyages to a certain 
 M. Brisel. 
 
 3. Relation de Madrid. Cologne, 1665. 
 
 4. Voyage d' Espagne (fait en 1655) contenant, 
 entre plusieurs particularities de ce royaume, trois 
 discours politiques sur les affaires du protecteur 
 d 'Angleterre, de la reine de Suede et du due de 
 Lorraine, avec une Relation de I' etat et gouvernement 
 de cette monarchic, et une Relation particuliere de 
 Madrid. Cologne, P. Marteau, 1666. M. de la 
 Kicharderie mentions only the Paris edition of 1720, 
 under the title of Voyage d Espagne Historique et 
 Politique. The Voyage was written in French by a 
 Dutch diplomatist, F. Aarsens van Sommelsdyck, who 
 was drowned in crossing from England to Holland ; 
 the Relation de Madrid, by Saint Maurice, appears to 
 be the same as the one mentioned in No. 3, but con- 
 tains an additional chapter on the Revenues of the 
 Spanish King. 
 
 5. Relation du Voyage en Espagne. La Haye, 
 Van Bulderen, 1693. This book Fas written bv the
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxix 
 
 Countess d'Aulnoy, and the third edition was printed at 
 the Hague; the first edition appeared in Paris in 1690. 
 
 6. Journal du Voyage d' Espagne^ contenant une 
 description fort exacte de ses Royaumes et de ses 
 principales miles, avec I' Estat de Gouvernement, et 
 plusieurs Traittes curieux touchant les Regences, les 
 Assemblies des Estats, I' Ordre de la Noblesse, la 
 Dignite de Grand d' Espagne, les Commanderies, les 
 Benefices et les Conseils. Paris, 1669. At the end 
 of it is printed the Relation, mentioned in No. 2. 
 These two works are by Mr Bertault, who, in 1659, 
 accompanied the Marshal de Gramont, sent to Spain 
 to ask for the hand of the Infanta Maria Theresa for 
 the youthful Louis XIV. At the end of this Journal 
 is the Relation de Madrid, mentioned in No. 4, as 
 well as the chapter on the Eevenues of the King of 
 Spain. The Journal contains also a translation of a 
 Spanish manuscript-narrative of the sitting of the 
 States at Madrid in 1584. 
 
 Besides these works I have also consulted the Me- 
 moir es de la Cour d' Espagne : Paris, 1690, written 
 by the Countess d'Aulnoy ; the Memoir es Curieux 
 envoy ez de Madrid, etc., at the end of which is printed 
 Sur les Proverbes et autres facons de parler qui sont 
 particulieres a I' Espagne, and a Dissertation sur le 
 Genie des Espagnols pour les Lettres, etc. : Paris, 
 1670 ; De Vayrac, Etat present de I' Espagne, 4 vols., 
 1718 ; Voyages faits en divers temps en Espagne, en 
 Portugal, en Allemagne, en France et ailleurs par 
 Monsieur M * * * ': Amsterdam, 1699; and several 
 other works, mentioned in Johann George Meusel's 
 Bibliotheca Historica, vol. vi., part i., Leipzig, 1793, 
 such as : Juan Alvarez de Colmenar, Delices d Espagne 
 et de Portugal: Amsterdam, 1707; L. Coulon, le
 
 xxx ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 fidele Conducteur pour le Voyage dEspagne mon- 
 trant exactement les raretez et choses Remarqudbles 
 qui si trouvent en chaques Villes, et les distances d' 
 icelles, avec tin denombrement des distances qui s'y 
 sont donnees : Paris, 1654 ; P. Du Val, geographer in 
 ordinary to the King, La description et T Alphabet 
 d'Espagne et de Portugal: Paris 1669 ; and five his- 
 tories of Madrid, all written in Spanish, and published 
 between the years 1623 and 1658. 
 
 (a) Lesage acquired his knowledge of the habits 
 and customs of Spain (see Nos. 1-7, pages xvii.-xx.) 
 in some of the books mentioned. The travelling 
 by mules and the filthy state of the beds is spoken 
 of in the Journal, &c.: Le samedi quatrieme d'octo- 
 bre, ayant change de mules, je partis de Pampe- 
 lone, ayant achete des draps d cause de la nial- 
 proprete des lits. 1 The same work speaks of the 
 subterranean caves in Castile, where it is said "the 
 Spaniards retired during the time of the Moors,"- 
 though Lesage places the cave of Eolando in the 
 Asturias, -- and of the bull-fights "at Erija, five 
 leagues from Fuentes . . . where there were four 
 noblemen (Caballeros en Plazci), who fought all dressed 
 in black, and with feathers in their hats." The Coun- 
 tess d'Aulnoy 2 describes also at full length a bull-fight 
 which took place at Madrid in 1679, where six noble 
 knights were engaged, and she mentions another fight 
 in her Memoires? In her Relation* she employs 
 the phrase reciter le rosaire, and says that all the 
 Spanish ladies had one attache d leur ceinture. This 
 book gives also many examples of the tricks of inn- 
 keepers in Spain. The leathern bag of wine is spoken 
 
 1 Journal du Voyaye d'Lspagne, &c. Paris, 1669. 
 
 2 Relation du Voyage en Espagne. Paris, 1690. Lettre X. 
 
 3 Memoires ae la Cour d? Espagne. Paris, 1690. 
 
 4 Lettre V11L
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxxi 
 
 of by her : l " The wine is put in prepared goat-skins, 
 and it always smells of pitch or burning." Another 
 book of travels 2 says that " they (the Spaniards) have 
 no other casks but goat-skins, which they call Bollegos, 
 and which are so pitched that when I drink I seem to 
 swallow the awl (le Saint Crespin) of a shoemaker." 
 The Countess, in speaking of the condemned to death, 
 states : 3 Les lois du royaume de Valence . . . ac- 
 cordent quelques jours aux criminels apres qu'ils out 
 ete juges. Lesage says that this law existed also in 
 Leon. The particular bull allowing the Spanish kings 
 to appoint archbishops is spoken of by Lenglet du 
 Fresnoy, 4 who says : Le Roi seul, en vertu d' Indults 
 du Saint Siege, nomme aux eveches en Espagne. 
 What indults are is to be found in Eichelet's Diction- 
 ary, 1719 : II y a deux sortes dindults, actifs et 
 passifs. Les indults actifs donnent le pouvoir de 
 nommer et presenter des benefices et de les conferer. 
 Les papes accordent ces indults aux Princes, aux 
 Cardinaux, aux Arclieveques, Evdques et autres Pre- 
 lats. M. Llorente also pretends that the use of cho- 
 colate was unknown in France at the time Lesage 
 wrote Gil Bias ; but Brillat-Savarin, in his Physio- 
 loyie du Gout, 5 says : " During the beginning of the 
 Regency (1715-1723), chocolate was in more general 
 use than coffee ; because it was then taken as an 
 agreeable nourishment, whilst coffee was only looked 
 upon as a curious and extravagant drink." 
 
 (6) The words and passages in Gil Bias, evidently 
 translated from the Spanish (see No. 8, page xviii.), and 
 which are said not to be French, were partly used, as 
 
 1 Lettre IK. 
 
 2 Relation de Madrid. Cologne, 1665. 
 " Memoires de la Cour de Espagne. 
 
 4 M&hode pour e'tudier la Oe'ographie. Vol. VI. 1716. 
 6 Meditation VI. Section 2, 10.
 
 xxxii ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 M. Franceson has already stated, to give a local colour- 
 ing to the original, and are, as such, found in some of 
 the books of travels which have been mentioned. The 
 Countess d'Aulnoy 1 uses Senor cordonnier, hidalgos, 
 senor escudero, oidor, VHdpital de los Nines, lei 
 famosa comedia. Van Sommelsdyck, 2 says also, Entre 
 eux Us se traitent de Senores Cavalleros. 2 Lesage 
 appears not always to have lodged the actors in the 
 posadas de los representantes (see No. 9, page xviii.), 
 for Laura relates to Gil 'Bias that Phenicia lived " with 
 the whole troop in a large hotel garni " (bk. vii. ch. 7). 
 
 (c) The dinner-hour was twelve o'clock in Paris as 
 well as in Madrid (see No. 5, page xvii.). Boileau, in 
 his third Satire, written in 1665, the very year of 
 Philip IV. 's death, says that, " coming from Mass, P. 
 hastens to a dinner to which he was invited, just as 
 the clock struck twelve." 
 
 (d) Llorente accuses Lesage of not knowing his own 
 language (see No. 11, page xix.), or, in other words, of 
 introducing Spanish expressions into French. 3 This 
 accusation is totally wrong. Nearly all of the words 
 or phrases quoted as not French are to be found in 
 Eichelet's Dictionary, of which the third edition, which 
 I have consulted, was published in 1719. There we 
 
 1 Relation du Voyage en Espagne. 
 
 2 Voyage 6? Espagne fait en 1655, &c. Cologne, 1666. 
 
 3 Llorente, who published his Observations in French, as well as in 
 Spanish, was himself not a good writer of the first language. He ends 
 the preface to his book as follows : " La nation franqaise a tant degloires 
 litte'raires qu'elle n'a pas besoin de celle d'avoir donne Vorigine au roman 
 de Gil Bias ; die ne perd rien parce que Le Saae ne serait pas le cre'ateur 
 de cet ouvragej il sera toujours regarde' comme un bon compositeur qui sut 
 tres-bien choisir les mate'riaux espagnols pour sa composition, en sorte que 
 Le Sage, pendant sa vie,fut lien autorise'd dire et la France Fest aujourd' 
 hui comme M. le Comte (de Neufchateau) I'e'crit : Furto Icelamur in ipso." 
 (We are proud of the robbery itself), which is a sentence of San- 
 teuil, and put by Lesage into the mouth of the literary compiler, the 
 illustrious Don Ignacio (bk. x. ch. 12).
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxxiii 
 
 see cavalier described as gentilhomme qui porte I'epee ; 
 seigneur, sometimes used en riant, as Seigneurs Chev- 
 aliers Catalans; a Dieu ne plaise; graces a Dieu, 
 though not an del; but, says the French lexico- 
 grapher, cette expression est basse ; rendre graces, 
 rendre des actions de graces, though not rendre de 
 tres-humbles graces; femme de bien et d'honneur. 
 Richelet has also famille, viceroi, benefice simple ; he 
 defines laboureur as celui qui cultive la terre avec la 
 charue (sic), and gives as an example un riche 
 laboureur, which expression Lesage likewise uses 
 (Gil Bias, bk. v. ch. 1), and which evidently cannot 
 mean " a rich day-labourer," as Llorente thinks it does. 
 Disciple, spelled diciple, is defined as ecolier ; 
 fameux, which, according to Llorente, no Frenchman 
 would use in the sense of celebre, was, according to 
 Richelet, precisely employed with that meaning in 
 Lesage's time. Llorente says about the word directeur: 
 " Only a Spaniard, or at least some one who has lived 
 a long time in Spain, can know the difference between a 
 monk who is only seen in the confessional, and a very 
 reverend father, of the 'Cordon Alto/ of the 'Haut 
 Cordon,' who is called spiritual director of consciences, 
 and whom the devotees treat to pigeons, partridges, 
 and other little dainty dishes." In Richelet's Diction- 
 ary directeur is defined as the " ordinary confessor of 
 a person," and the two following lines are quoted from 
 Boileau's tenth Satire : " But of all mortals, thanks 
 to the pious souls, none is so well cared for as a 
 directeur de femmes" The Countess d'Aulnoy says in 
 her Relation du Voyage en Espagne i 1 " M. Mellini, 
 the Apostolic Nuncio, consecrated the patriarche des 
 Indes on Trinity, and the king was present." 
 
 1 Lettre X.
 
 xxxiv ADVENTU11ES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 (e) The local knowledge of Spanish towns displayed 
 by Lesage (see No. 12, page xix.) might easily have 
 been acquired ; for in d'Aulnoy's Relation, in the 
 thirteenth letter, the Countess says : " We went to 
 hear mass in the Church de Los Keys at Toledo." 1 
 The Maison des Repenties, to which Sirena is sent 
 (Gil Bias, bk. ix. ch. 7), may have been anywhere ; 
 the Countess d'Aulnoy speaks of one in her Relation. 
 In this book she four times also mentions the existence 
 of a convent, Las Descalzas Reales, called by Lesage, 
 Monastere de I' Incarnation, where the widows and 
 mistresses of the Kings of Spain used to retire. 
 In her third letter she says : " Philip IV. preferred 
 Maria Calderona to a young lady of noble birth who 
 was in attendance on the Queen, and who was so hurt 
 by the fickleness of the King, whom she really loved, 
 and by whom she had a son, that she withdrew to Las 
 Descalzas Reales, where she became a nun. . . . The 
 King sent word to La Calderona that she had to go in 
 a nunnery, as it is the custom when the King quits his 
 mistress." In the ninth letter the Countess writes : 
 " This order of the Carmelites is held here in great 
 veneration. Even Queens, when they become widows, 
 are obliged to spend with them the rest of their lives. 
 Don Juan himself an illegitimate son of Philip IV. 
 has an illegitimate daughter who is a Carmelite nun. 
 She is wonderfully beautiful, and it is said that she did 
 not wish to take the veil ; but it was her destiny, and 
 so it is the fate of many others of her rank, who are 
 scarcely more satisfied about it than she was. These 
 nuns are called Descalzas Reales, which means ' royal 
 ladies.' This rule applies even to the King's mistresses, 
 whether they are unmarried or widows. When he 
 
 1 Llorente says the knowledge of the Church de los Reyes at Toledo 
 est une des preuves irre'cusalles de Vexistence d'un manuscrit espagnol.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxxv 
 
 ceases to love them, they must become nuns." The 
 Countess repeats this in her fifteenth and last letter, 
 and also in her Memoires. The knowledge that there 
 was such a convent, says the author of the article in 
 Blackwood, is " a still stronger argument in favour of 
 the existence of a Spanish manuscript." Calling 
 the Prado of Madrid by its right name, and quoting 
 the Rue des Infantes, is not singular, considering that 
 there were several guide-books of Madrid, printed 
 before Gil Bias was published. 1 The mention of so 
 many provinces, large and small towns, and villages 
 of Spain, is not marvellous, as many geographical 
 hand-books of Spain, written in Latin, 2 as well as 
 Colmenar's Delices, d'Espayne et de Portugal, 1707, 
 translated into French, had been published before 
 Gil Bias saw the light. A large number of these 
 names are also given in the books of travels in 
 Spain, already mentioned. The titles of the dukes, 
 counts, and celebrated persons to be found in Gil 
 Bias, may be discovered in d'Aulnoy's Voyage, in her 
 Memoires de la Cour d'Espagne, in Salazar's In- 
 rentaire? and in many other works. 4 I find in the 
 Inventaire alone, the names of the nobles, their resi- 
 dences and incomes, with a list of archbishops and 
 bishops, viscounts, generals, admirals, priors, com- 
 
 1 In the Bibliotheque des Voyages is quoted : Theatro de las grandezas 
 de la Villa de Madrid, etc. As already stated, Meusel gives the titles 
 of four other histories of that town. 
 
 2 Echofius' Deliciae Hispaniae, 1604 ; and Deliciae apodemicae, Ens. 
 1609, both describing Spain, and both starting from Toledo. 
 
 3 Salazar, Inventaire general des plus curieuses recherches des royaumes 
 d'Espagne, traduit de TEspagnol, Paris, 1615. 
 
 4 Carillo, Origcn de la dignidad de Grande de Castillo, Madrid, 
 1657 ; Salazar de Mendoza, Origen de las dignidades seglares de Castillo 
 y Leon : Madrid, 1657 ; Imhof s Historia Italics et Hispaniae Genealo- 
 gica, 1702; and Recherchesge'ne'alogiquessurlesgrande^lrsd'Espagne, 1707.
 
 xxx vi ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 manderies ; and also of the councils and councillors, 
 presidents, auditors, secretaries, and other officers, 
 with an account of the manner in which they were 
 appointed, and a statement of their different incomes. 
 In this little book are likewise given lists of the 
 officers of the king's household, their salaries and pen- 
 sions ; and at the end of it a table showing the dis- 
 tances between various towns and villages. In the 
 Countess's Memoires there is a list of the archbishops, 
 bishops, and different grandees of Spain ; she also 
 relates the history of the Admirante of Castile, a 
 title abolished when Lesage wrote, but not when the 
 Countess penned her book. To say that forty-five 
 Spanish names, such as those of Mrs Slipslop and 
 Parson Trulliber (see No. 13, page xix.), were not 
 likely to be invented by any but a Spaniard, seems to 
 me to be forgetting that Lesage was an accomplished 
 Spanish scholar ; but, even if he were " only acquainted 
 with the lighter part of Spanish literature," he might 
 easily have compounded these names. 
 
 The orthographical mistakes (see No. 1, page xx.) are, 
 as Mr Franceson has already observed, chiefly printer's 
 errors or faults of carelessness ; many words, such as 
 Contador, Miajadas, Majuelo, and Pliego, being 
 rightly spelt in the early, but incorrectly in the later 
 editions of Gil Bias. The supposed error of Lesage 
 in imagining seigneur, Senor, and seigneurie, Senoria 
 to be equivalent, and on which so much stress has 
 been laid by M. Llorente, as proving that the 
 French author must have plagiarised from a Spanish 
 manuscript, without understanding what he did 
 (see No. 2, page xx.), is no error at all. 1 Lesage 
 
 1 Llorente says distinctly about the use of the word seigneurie : Lesage 
 n'entendait pas meme ce qu'il copiait.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxxvii 
 
 uses the word seigneurie in Gil Bias twelve 
 times : 
 
 1. When speaking of the actresses who treat 
 great lords familiarly, and who, far from addressing 
 them as Excellences, ne leur donnaient pas meme de 
 la seigneurie (bk. iii. ch. 10). 
 
 2. Don Rodrigo de Calderon calls Gil Bias, 
 Seigneur de Santillane, " he," says Gil Bias, " who 
 had never yet addressed me in any other way but as 
 vous, sans jamais se servir du terme de seigneurie." 
 (bk. viii. ch. 5). 
 
 3. Don Roger de Rada, when relating his adven- 
 tures, says to Gil Bias, de peur d'ennuyer votre seig- 
 neurie (bk. viii. ch. 8). 
 
 4. Fabricio addresses Gil Bias as seigneur de San- 
 tillane, and then as "seigneur, I am delighted with 
 the prosperity of your seigneurie;" upon which Gil 
 Bias replies, " Oh ! que diable ! treve de seigneur et de 
 seigneurie!" (bk. viii. ch. 9). 
 
 5. As love messenger of the Prince of Spain, Gil 
 Bias is addressed by the Senora Mencia as votre 
 seigneurie (bk. viii. ch. 10). 
 
 6. Gil Bias says of himself, " Gabriel Salero thought 
 that he had found in ma seigneurie the best match, 
 in Spain for his daughter" (bk. ix. ch. 1). 
 
 7. Gil Bias addresses Senor Manuel Ordonez : " My 
 friend Fabricio would have done much better to remain 
 with your seigneurie than to cultivate poetry " (bk. x. 
 ch. 2). 
 
 8. In stopping at the house of Don Alphonso de 
 Leyva at Valencia, Gil Bias relates: "I found in my 
 room a good bed, on which my seigneurie having laid 
 down, fell asleep " (bk. x. ch. 5). 
 
 9. Joseph Navarro says to Gil Bias : " My master 
 
 d
 
 xxxviii ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 lias promised to speak for you to the Count of Olivarez 
 sur le bien que je lui ai dit de votre seigneurie " (bk. 
 xi. ch. 3). 
 
 10. Scipio addresses Gil Bias : " You see that for- 
 tune has great designs on votre seigneurie" (bk. xi. 
 ch. 6). 
 
 11. The dancing-master, Martin Ligero, says to Gil 
 Bias : " I have been told that it is votre seigneurie 
 who selects the masters for my lord Don Henry " (bk. 
 xii. ch. 5). 
 
 12. Scipio declares to Gil Bias: "I like better 
 a good office with votre seigneurie than to be again 
 exposed to the perils of the sea " (bk. xii. ch. 6). 
 
 In none of these cases can seigneurie mean senoria, 
 a title only given to Spanish grandees. In the first 
 two examples Lesage uses the word rightly, as it was 
 then employed in French for "the title given by the 
 estate." In the last ten examples he seems to apply 
 this expression en riant, or for the sake of civility. 1 
 
 (/) The anecdote about the rector of the University 
 of Salamanca (see No. 3, page xx) is certainly not in 
 accordance with Spanish manners ; but this only 
 shows that, however careful an author may be, the 
 difficulties of letting the^ scenes of a novel take place 
 
 1 Richelet, in his dictionary, defines seiyneurie as une terre seigneuriale, 
 and quotes from Moliere's L'Ecole des Femmes (Act I. sc. 1) Chrysalde's 
 lines to Arnolphe, who had adopted the name of Monsieur de la 
 Souche : 
 
 Que diable vous a fait aussi vous aviser 
 A quarante et deux ans de vous debaptiser, 
 Et d'un vieux tronc pourri de votre metairie 
 Vous faire dans le monde un nom de seigneurie. 
 
 Richelet says also "seigneurie is used en riant, and has the same meaning 
 as signoria among the Italians when they speak to a person civilly ; " 
 and then he quotes from Moliere's Spanarelle ou le Cocu Imaginairc : 
 " Tres hvmble serviteur a votre seigneurie."
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xxxix 
 
 on foreign ground, must some time or other induce him 
 to commit an error. 1 
 
 (g) The accusation of the many topographical errors 
 to be found in Gil Bias (see No. 4, page xx.), of which 
 the enumeration is borrowed from Llorente, and which 
 errors are partly reproduced by Blachvood, has been 
 accepted by all Lesage's defenders as well founded. 
 But, if they had consulted two maps of Spain a large 
 one, Carte nouvelle du royaume dEspagne, dediee d 
 Sa Majeste Catholique Philippe V., Paris, 1705 ; and 
 a smaller one, L'Espagne divisee en tons ses royaumes, 
 principautes, &c., d I' usage de Monseigneur le due de 
 Bourgogne, Amsterdam, 1710 they would have found 
 that Lesage was nearly always right. Notwithstand- 
 ing all that has been said to the contrary, Betancos, 
 Eodillas, Grajal (bk. i. ch. 11), Moyados, 2 Valpuesta 
 (bk. ii. ch. 9), Luceno 3 (bk. iii. ch. 2), Villardesa and 
 Almodabar (bk. iv. ch. 11) spelled on the large 
 map Villardssaz and Almodovar, on the small map 
 Villardesaz and Almodavar CastilBlazo 4 (bk. v. ch. 1), 
 
 1 It is astonishing to find in the fifteenth chapter of the Voyage 
 d'Espagne, by Aarsens van Sommelsdyck, " La veuve chez laqudle nous 
 i-tions loge's e'tait ivre, sur quoije diraiqu'en Allemagneje n' aipasvu tant 
 de femmes qui se soulassent que fen ai rencontre' au deqa des Pyrenees" 
 The Countess d'Aulnoy says, however, in the eighth letter of the Rela- 
 tion, lls (the Spaniards) sont dune retenue surprenante sur le vin. . . . 
 L'on ne saurait leur faire un plus sensible outrage que de les accuser d 1 
 etre ivres. 
 
 2 Moyados, a village in the province of Valladolid, in the former 
 kingdom of Old Castille, must not be mistaken for Moyadas, a town in 
 the present province of Badajoz, in Estremadura (Gil Bias, bk. v. ch. 
 1), and which Llorente says ought to be Miajadas. The small map 
 gives Moyadas ; the large one Mihajada. 
 
 8 Llorente says in his Observations, " 11 n'y a eu en Espagne aucun 
 village du nom de Luceno." 
 
 4 Llorente writes : " Le traducteur Ida s'estpermis d'omettre les mots 
 ( Castil-Dlazo), parce qu'il savait bien qu'il n'y avait point de pays de ce 
 nom en Espagne." M. Llorente does not mean by pays, country, but 
 village.
 
 xl ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 Llirias (bk. ix. ch. 10), Melilla, Toralva (bk. v. ch. 1), 
 Ponte de Duero (bk. ii. ch. 8), are all in their right 
 places and well spelt, whilst Almeriri (bk. v. ch. 1), 
 which ought to have been Almoharin according to 
 M. Llorente, is printed so on the small map, but 
 figures on the large one as Lmorin, with the usual 
 sign of a town before it, which makes it look like 
 Almorin. All these names were not altered in later 
 editions, but are to be found in the edition of Gil 
 Bias, published in three volumes, Paris, 1721, and 
 also in the first one in four volumes, Paris, 1735, 
 except that Carrillo another of Lesage's supposed 
 misspellings discovered by M. Llorente was correctly 
 printed in the edition of 1721, but with only one 
 r in that published fourteen years later. Lesage's 
 Orbisa (bk. x. ch. 10) ought to be Cobisa. Penafiel 
 is mentioned as lying on the road from Segovia to 
 Valladolid (bk. x. ch. 1) ; "this ought to be Portillo," 
 says Llorente, " because Valladolid is twelve leagues 
 from Penafiel, and therefore it is impossible to arrive 
 there in one day." Portillo is certainly on the road 
 between Valladolid and Segovia, but it seems not im- 
 possible to go twelve leagues when one has, like Gil 
 Bias, une chaise tiree par deux bonnes mules. But 
 M. Llorente is difficult to please. When Gil Bias 
 leaves Oviedo, after his father's death, and continues 
 his journey (bk. x. ch. 8), d petites journees, our 
 Spanish critic observes that a carriage drawn by two 
 mules ought not to go at so slow a pace. The blunder 
 of placing Alcala de Henarez on the road from Madrid 
 to Segovia seems to be the French author's own. The 
 author of the article in Blackwood asks, " If Lesage 
 had invented the story, and clothed it with names of 
 Spanish cities and villages, taken from printed books,
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xh 
 
 can any one suppose that he would have fallen into 
 all these errors ? " It has been proved that they are 
 not errors of Lesage, but of M. Llorente ; though, in 
 justice to this gentleman, it ought to be stated that 
 several of the towns mentioned by the French author 
 are not found on modern maps. 
 
 (h) In a novel, even a so-called historical one, errors 
 are generally found ; how much more are these, then, 
 to be expected in a tale like Gil Bias ? Lesage at- 
 tempted to correct one of these errors which occurs 
 in the history related by Don Pompeyo de Castro, by 
 transferring the scene from Portugal to Poland, " but 
 how comes it to pass," asks the author of the article 
 in Blackwood, " that Lesage, who singles out with 
 such painful anxiety the error to which we have 
 adverted, suffers others of equal importance to pass 
 altogether unnoticed?" (See No. 5, page xx.) This 
 assertion is not quite correct, for the following notice 
 prefaced the edition of Gil Bias of 1735 : 
 
 " In the third volume an epoch is mentioned (the time of the 
 flight of Laura with Zendono to Portugal) which does not agree 
 with the history of Don Pompeyo de Castro, to be found in the 
 tirst volume (bk. iii. ch. 7). It appears that Philip the Second had 
 not yet conquered Portugal, 1 and we see here suddenly this king- 
 dom under the sway of Philip the Third, 2 without Gil Bias being 
 much the older for it. This is a chronological error which the 
 author has perceived too late, but which he promises to correct 
 later, as well as many others, if ever a new edition of his works 
 should appear." 
 
 He corrected this fault there and then, and left the 
 others to be altered afterwards. But in 1735 Lesage 
 was sixty-seven years old, and increasing infirmities 
 and other literary labours probably prevented him from 
 
 1 The Duke of Alba conquered Portugal in 1580. (Original note of 
 Lesage.) 
 
 2 Philip III. began to reign in 1598, and died in 1621. (Original note 
 of Lesage.)
 
 xlii ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 accomplishing what he intended. To argue from this 
 as is done in Slackwood's Magazine that Lesage 
 left "to posterity a lasting and unequivocal proof of 
 his plagiarism ... by dwelling on one anachronism as 
 an error which he intended to correct, in a work swarm- 
 ing in every part with others equally flagrant, of which 
 he takes no notice," is, to say the least of it, a general 
 accusation, which requires further substantiation than 
 the remark that these mistakes were those " into which 
 the original author had fallen, and which, as his object 
 was not to give an exact relation of facts, he probably 
 disregarded altogether." However, what is excusable 
 in a Spaniard must equally be so in a Frenchman. 
 
 (i) In extenuation of the errors of Lesage himself 
 (see No. 6, page xx.) may be brought forward the remark 
 about these being mistakes " which the original author 
 . . . probably disregarded altogether." There was a 
 lapse of fourteen years between the publication of the 
 third and fourth volumes of Gil JBlas, and therefore 
 Lesage may well have forgotten that the hero of his 
 novel, after having left the tower of Segovia, says to 
 Don Alphonso de Leyva, in the third volume, that 
 " four months ago he occupied an important post at 
 Court" (bk. ix. ch. 10); and may have allowed Gil 
 Bias to tell the King in the first book of the fourth 
 volume, that " he had been six months in prison " (bk. 
 xi. ch. 2). That Lesage was very negligent in writing 
 his fourth volume, is also proved by the supposed age 
 of the hero of his novel, as compared with his birth 
 and adventures, described in the first three volumes. 
 The error of mentioning the dismissal of the Duke of 
 Lerma, when Philip III. died, instead of saying, " the 
 Duke of Uzeda, son of the Duke of Lerma," can only 
 be accounted for by carelessness, for Lesage speaks
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xliii 
 
 rightly of the exile of the Duke of Uzeda in another 
 part of Gil Bias (bk. xi. ch. 5). It seems to have 
 been a fancy of our author to call Valcancel Valcazar ; 
 for the whole history of Don Henri de Guzman was 
 published in many books well known at the time 
 Lesage wrote. 
 
 (j) M. Franceson has already stated that The 
 Bachelor of Salamanca, published after Gil Bias, 
 is a weakened reproduction of this last novel. Mr 
 Ticknor, one of the best Spanish scholars of modern 
 times, says, in his History of Spanish Literature, that 
 two chapters of The Bachelor are taken from Moreto's 
 play, Desden con el Desden, whilst Sainte-Beuve main- 
 tains that several chapters are borrowed from Ths. Gage, 
 the English American, His Travail by Sea and by 
 Land ; or a New Survey of the West Indies, contain- 
 ing a Journall of three thousand and three hundred 
 miles within the main land of America, &c. Lon- 
 don, 1648, which was translated into French by Le 
 Sieur de Beaulieu, H. O'Neil (i.e., A. Baillet), Paris, 
 1677. It becomes, therefore, difficult to see how The 
 Bachelor can have formed part of an original Spanish 
 manuscript long in the possession of the Marquis de 
 Lyonne and his son, as a great deal of the French 
 work appears to have been borrowed from printed 
 books, one of them not even translated into Spanish. 1 
 Llorente and Blackwood both mention that two-thirds 
 of Gil Bias are taken from well-known Spanish works. 
 If, therefore, Lesage copied Gil Bias from a manu- 
 script of de Solis, that manuscript was chiefly com- 
 
 1 In justice to M. Llorente it ought to be stated that he says in his 
 Observation, ch. i. : " On pourrait bien soutenir que Lesage est Vauteur 
 original d'une yrande, partie du Bachelier, beaiicoup plus qu'il ne le fut 
 du Gil Bias."
 
 xliv ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 posed of plagiarisms, and the Spanish author must 
 have been more stupid than men ordinarily are to steal 
 from books so well known in Spain and to his con- 
 temporaries. There is not the shadow of a proof that 
 Lesage pilfered his world-famed novel from a manu- 
 script. The readers of this Introductory Notice will 
 have seen how our author became possessed of his inti- 
 mate knowledge of Spain, and may also have perceived 
 that his French was not quite so bad as M. Llorente 
 wishes to prove it, and that his errors were neither 
 so manifold, nor so clearly the faults of a copyist, as 
 his literary enemies have maintained. 
 
 Gil Bias has already several times been translated 
 into English, a very difficult task on account of the 
 idiomatic style of the original. I have no intention to 
 cavil at anything that my predecessors have done, but 
 once and for all state that I have never scrupled to 
 adopt any expression, turn of thought, or even page, 
 from any version, whenever I found I could not 
 improve upon it. 
 
 The oldest of these translations is anonymous, and 
 is called The History and Adventures of Gil Bias of 
 Santillane. The first three volumes were published by 
 J. & R. Tonson, London, 1737; the fourth in 1742 
 by J. Nourse, at the Lamb without Temple Bar, and 
 T. Cogan, at the Middle-Temple Gate in Fleet Street. 
 It was reprinted by Mesrs Willison & Darling, Edin- 
 burgh, 1771. 
 
 The next translation of Gil Bias is said to have 
 been done by Smollett, and was published in 1755. 
 
 Another translation of Gil Bias was, according to 
 Lowndes' Bibliographica Britanniea, made by P. 
 Proctor, and published in 1774 ; but I have not been 
 able to get a look at this work.
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xlv 
 
 The next, The Adventures of Gil Bias of Santillana, 
 newly translated from the French of A. R. Le Sage, 
 by Martin Smart, embellished with one hundred 
 copper-plates, was published by R. Phillips, 1807, and 
 began with a Preface of which we take the following 
 extracts : 
 
 " There have been two translations ; the earliest (which is anony- 
 mous, and has its fourth edition dated 1737), and that which passes 
 under the name of Smollett. The style of the Author is an exquisite 
 model of its kind ; pure, concise, and at the same time easy in a 
 high degree, yet in reality bearing marks of much attentive correc- 
 tion : but his translators have contrived so strangely to disfigure it, 
 that it is very doubtful whether any similar example of equal mis- 
 representation could be found : scarcely was ever Homer burlesqued, 
 or Virgil travestied, more broadly. The first of these performances 
 is a ludicrous instance, how contemptible a book may be made to 
 appear by translation. Every page of it abounds with perverse 
 violations of grammar, and the most gross vulgarities. . . . From 
 Smollett's version it is unnecessary to select illustrations, as that is 
 at present in general use : it may be sufficient to mention, that his 
 very first page of the Adventures contains a coarse expression, and 
 a gratuitous allusion approaching to indecency. A perusal of his 
 volumes with a view to this point cannot fail to convince the least 
 critical reader of the lowness of diction that runs through the whole. 
 . . . Besides its general tenor, there are striking and exclusive 
 features in the style of Gil Bias ; not less so, though of a 'very 
 different kind, than in that of Sterne among ourselves. The Author 
 continually writes in insinuations and inuendoes; leaving something, 
 often much, to be inferred or discovered by the reader : and, in 
 particular, avails himself admirably of this practice to cover his 
 severest satire, or pass delicately over ideas the least susceptible of 
 strong or undisguised enunciation. These inuendoes, however, both 
 the former translators take pleasure in solving ; to save their readers 
 trouble, or sometimes from want of dexterity for adopting them 
 with equal happiness. ... I beg leave to say a few words concern- 
 ing the execution of the present translation. It formed part of the 
 plan on which it was undertaken to suppress or soften as much as 
 possible everything objectionable in point of expression or senti- 
 ment ; and this has accordingly been done to as great an extent as 
 the particular passages seemed to allow." 
 
 The last original translation was made by Benjamin 
 Heath Malkin, Esqre., M.A., F.S.A., and was published 
 in four volumes by Messrs Longman, Hurst, Rees &
 
 xlvi ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 Orme, in 1809 ; the excellent plates, designed by 
 Smirke, generally accompany this edition, which is 
 preceded by the following Advertisement : 
 
 " On the occasion of producing a splendid English edition of. Gil 
 Bias, the publishers would gladly have adopted the translation pub- 
 lished under the name of Smollett. The defects of that version are 
 acknowledged ; and it is now understood to be indebted to that 
 popular writer only for his name. Under these circumstances, it 
 has been the aim of the present translator to produce a more easy 
 and spirited transcript of the original ; with what ability and 
 success must be left to the reader to determine." 
 
 "All these translations have been often reprinted; the one of 
 Smollett appears to have been most generally in demand." 
 
 Generally the proper names used in this translation of 
 Gil Bias have been printed in their Spanish form, for 
 though Lesage wrote his novel in French, and sketched 
 not seldom characters well known in Paris during his 
 lifetime, he has given it on the whole a strong Ausonian 
 colouring. Wherever Lesage has made an error I have 
 endeavoured to correct it, if possible, and have drawn 
 the reader's attention to it by a footnote. I have also 
 attempted to elucidate any difficulties by notes, culled 
 from different works, generally of or before the period 
 Lesage wrote ; whilst others are borrowed from the 
 former translations, or from original editions. 
 
 Gil Bias has been translated, I believe, into nearly 
 all European languages. It has, besides, been freely 
 imitated. There are two German works with the title 
 Gil Bias, one written by M. Hertzberg, the other by 
 the Baron von Knigge ; an English Gil Bias was 
 written by Ths. Holcroft ; a Russian Gil Bias and its 
 sequel, by Bulgarine ; a French work called The Three 
 Gil Bias, and its continuation Fioretta, by La Mar- 
 teliere ; and another in the same language, The Gil 
 Bias of the Revolution, by Picard. In 1754 was also 
 printed at Amsterdam The Life of Don Alphonso
 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE. xlvii 
 
 Bias de Lirias, son of Gil Bias of Santillane, whicli 
 was republished, in Paris, in 1802, under the title of 
 Sequel to Gil Bias, or Memoirs of Don AlpJionso, <&c. 
 The fourth chapter of the fourth book of Gil Bias 
 has, oddly enough, been put into English verse under 
 the title of Henry and Blanche, or the Revengeful 
 Marriage, London, 1745, with a motto from Virgil 
 
 "... Quis talia fando, 
 
 Myrmidonum, Dolopumve, aut duri miles Ulissei, 
 Temperet a lacrymis 1 ?" 
 
 The illustrations in these volumes have been drawn 
 and etched specially for this edition by M. Ad. 
 Lalauze, of Paris. 
 
 Nearly all known editions of Lesage have been 
 consulted by me whilst engaged upon this translation ; 
 but in any cases of doubt I always referred to the 
 original editions of 1721 and 1735. 
 
 HENRI VAN LATIN.
 
 LIFE OF LESAGE. 
 
 ALAIN RENE" LESAGE was born on the 8th of May, 
 1668, at Sarzeau, near Vannes in Brittany. He was 
 educated at the College of Vannes, and on his father's 
 death, in 1682, became heir to a small fortune, which 
 was, however, squandered by an uncle who had been 
 chosen to act as his guardian. At the age of twenty- 
 two he betook himself to Paris, where he entered col- 
 lege as a law student, and afterwards passed as an advo- 
 cate, but failed to gain success at the bar. In 16.94 he 
 married Marie-Elizabeth Huyafd, the daughter of a 
 tradesman ; the issue of this union, which is said to 
 have been a happy one, being three sons and a daughter. 
 Soon after settling in Paris, Lesage appears to have 
 gained entrance to the best literary society, and to 
 have acquired the friendship of the Abbe* de Lyorine, 
 to whom he was doubly indebted firstly, for a pension 
 of 600 livres, and, secondly, for the happy suggestion 
 that he should devote himself to the study of the 
 drama and prose fiction of Spain. By the advice of 
 his friend Danchet, Lesage's first work was a trans- 
 lation of the letters of the Greek sophist Aristsenetus, 
 issued in 1695. In 1700 he published Le TraUre 
 Puni, a French version of a drama by Don Francisco 
 de Rojas, and Dom Felix de Mendoce, translated from 
 Lope de Vega ; in 1702 his comedy Le Point d'Hon- 
 neur likewise a translation from the Spanish was 
 unsuccessfully produced at the Theatre Francais ;
 
 I LIFE OF LESAGE. 
 
 whilst the French version of the Neiv Adventures of 
 Don Quixotte from the Spanish of Avellaneda, found 
 also no favour among the public. In 1707 he had a 
 curious experience as a play-wright ; the comedy Don 
 Cesar d'Ursin, which he had translated from Calderon, 
 being hissed at the Franais by an audience which on 
 the same day vociferously applauded his original farce, 
 Crispin rival de son maitre ; whereas, on the two 
 pieces being performed before the court, the farce 
 was condemned and the comedy graciously received. 
 "Time," says Sir Walter Scott, "has confirmed the 
 judgment of the Parisians, and annulled that of Ver- 
 sailles." Crispin is still sometimes acted, and the two 
 rascally servants who, for a time, have hoodwinked 
 the father of the heroine, and whose hand Crispin in- 
 tends to obtain, under the disguise of his master, still 
 delight the spectators. Its intrigue is bright and well 
 kept up, though improbable, and the dialogue is 
 witty and smart. The servant Crispin was first intro- 
 duced on the French stage by the poor paralysed lite- 
 rary man, Paul Scarron, the first husband of Madame 
 de Maintenon, the wife of Louis XIV. 
 
 The same year, Lesage gave the world his first 
 masterpiece, Le Diable Boiteux. The title and design 
 of this work were taken from the Diablo Cojuelo of 
 Luis Velez de Guevara. So much Lesage himself freely 
 admits in the serio-sarcastic dedication to the Spanish 
 author, prefixed to the edition of 1726. The honour 
 of the success which the book has obtained, he observes, 
 has been shared between himself and Guevara. At 
 Paris, it is true, he has only received credit as a copyist, 
 but he adds, with a characteristic touch of causticity 
 on the other hand, the copy has been translated 
 into Spanish at Madrid, and has been accepted in that
 
 LIFE OF LESAGE. li 
 
 city as an original work. Besides being indebted 
 to Guevara, Lesage, in writing Le Diable Boiteux, 
 borrowed from a book by Francisca Santos, entitled 
 Dia y Noche de Madrid. But the spirit which in- 
 spires his work is original. The French critic who 
 averred that the story embodied a complete course of 
 practical morality may have allowed his enthusiasm to 
 obscure his judgment. But certainly the mingled wit 
 and wisdom of the book, the happy union in its pages 
 of grotesque fancy with stinging satire, would have 
 long ensured its author against being included with 
 the unread, though Gil Bias had never been written. 
 
 Le Diable Boiteux won immediate popularity ; 
 the eagerness with which it was sought after being 
 attested by the story of the two young noblemen who, 
 chancing to meet at a bookseller's where there was 
 only a single copy of the work unsold, at once drew 
 their swords and fought for its possession, until the 
 one wounded the other and walked off with the 
 coveted volume. 
 
 In 1708 the Theatre Francais accepted a one act 
 comedy of Lesage, La Tontine, which was not played 
 until twenty-four years later ; but in 1709 his strongest 
 drama Turcaret was brought out there. In this comedy, 
 Lesage, instead of aiming, like the Spanish playwrights 
 whom he had studied so carefully, at an ingenious 
 entanglement of plot and counterplot to the neglect of 
 character, follows in the footsteps of Moliere. Un- 
 fortunately, the piece is too deeply marked by the 
 bitterness of spirit to which its author seems to have 
 yielded at the time of its composition. In Titrcaret 
 the indignation of the satirist has made Lesage 
 untrue both to nature and to dramatic art, the chie 
 character, a financier who squanders on a worthless
 
 lii LIFE OF LESAGE. 
 
 mistress the wealth he has amassed by dishonesty, 
 being an almost impossible incarnation of baseness. 
 It is said that certain financiers, having vainly offered 
 Lesage 100,000 livres to suppress the piece, con- 
 trived by their influence at court to prevent the 
 comedy from being performed at the Francois. At 
 the instance of the Dauphin, however, the prohibition 
 was eventually removed, and the play seems on the 
 whole to have been favourably received by the 
 Parisians. 
 
 In connection with Turcaret a story is told, which 
 illustrates Lesage s independence of spirit. Before 
 the comedy had been put on the stage, its author was 
 requested by the Duchess of Bouillon to read it to 
 herself and a party of friends at her Hotel. On the 
 appointed day Lesage was unavoidably detained, and 
 the Duchess, in answer to his apologies, haughtily 
 remarked that he had made the company lose an hour. 
 " Madam," he replied, " if I have made the company 
 lose an hour, I shall now allow it to gain two." And 
 with these words he left the Hotel, which he could 
 never again be persuaded to enter. 
 
 Between 1700 and 1736 Lesage wrote nearly a 
 hundred dramatic pieces, of which many have never 
 been printed, and in some of which he collaborated 
 with Piron, Autreau, Fromaget, Fuselier, and others. 
 These efforts were mainly of a farcical and trivial 
 character, and have long since fallen into oblivion. 
 Among them were The Temple of Memory (see the 
 Introductory Notice), Harlequin King of Serendib, 
 The Girdle of Venus, TJie Pilgrims of Mecca, Tele- 
 machus, The Regiment of Fools, The Two Brothers, 
 The Dangerous Rivals, Harlequin Deucalion, The 
 Princess of Carizme, The Quarrel of the Theatres,
 
 LIFE OF LESAGE. liii 
 
 and Harlequin Doctor in Barbary. They were prin- 
 cipally written for the Foire theatre, and were in some 
 cases highly successful. 
 
 This theatre was composed of the pieces acted at 
 various fairs, and above all of those played at the 
 Foire Saint-Laurent, held in Paris between the fau- 
 bourgs Saint-Denis and Saint-Martin, and of those 
 brought out at the Foire Saint-Germain, in the fau- 
 bourg of that name, on the other bank of the Seine. 
 Both fairs lasted for about two months during the 
 first half of the eighteenth century ; the first began in 
 August, and the second in February. Though a 
 theatrical piece had already been performed at one of 
 these fairs in 1678, it was not until about twenty 
 years^later that some of the farces of the Italian comedy 
 and others were acted there by provincial actors in regu- 
 lar booths provided with boxes, pit, and gallery. The 
 success of these strollers frightened the actors of Comedie 
 Franfaise, and at their request these wandering per- 
 formers were forbidden to act spoken pieces at fairs. 
 They then tried to obtain permission from the Aca- 
 demie royale de Musique to bring out some plays in 
 which singing and dancing predominated, which were 
 called Operas Comiques, and of which Lesage may be 
 considered the inventor. Sometimes parodies were 
 represented of plays acted at the Comedie Franpaise, 
 or of operas performed at the Academie royale de 
 Musique, whilst now and then the actors at the fairs 
 had even to produce pieces called par ecriteaux, in 
 which the personages on the stage only gesticulated, 
 and, when they had certain things to say, took out of 
 their pockets some boards on which was printed in 
 large type what they wished to express. But soon the 
 actors improved on this, and couplets in rhyme were
 
 liv LIFE OF LESAGE. 
 
 shown, set to well-known airs which the orchestra 
 played, and which were sung by the audience, led oil 
 by paid professionals scattered among them. The 
 chief characters of these trifling pieces were Harlequin, 
 Gille, Pierrot, The Doctor, Scaramouch, Columbine, 
 and many others. 
 
 Lesage's fame rests, however, chiefly on his novel Gil 
 Bias, of which the first and second volumes appeared in 
 1715, and established their author's claim to rank with 
 the foremost writers of his country. The third volume 
 of the great novel was published in 1724, and the fourth 
 and last in 1735, when Lesage was sixty- seven years of 
 age. For the high estimation in which it is held by 
 eminent literary men, I beg to refer my readers to my 
 Introductory Notice. The other works written by our 
 author are a translation of Boijardo's Orlando Ina- 
 morato, the Histoire d'Estevanille Gonsalez, the 
 least attractive of all his books ; the Baclielier de 
 Salamanque, which is said to have been part of the 
 manuscript from which Lesage is falsely accused to 
 have borrowed his Gil Bias; les Aventures de 
 Robert Chevalier dit de Beauchesne, capitaine de 
 flibustiers, which, like Defoe's Memoirs of a Cavalier, 
 is traditionally based on actual memoirs ; a volume of 
 dialogue entitled Une Journee des Parques ; La 
 Valise Trouvee, a series of satirical letters ; Les 
 Aventures de Guzman d'Alfarache, an example of 
 the picaresque novel, partly original, partly translated 
 from the Spanish of Mateo Aleman ; and a collection 
 of anecdotes, Melange amusant de saillies d'esprit, 
 &c., his last book, published in 1743. 
 
 There is hardly anything known of the way in 
 which Lesage spent his time whilst engaged in gaining 
 a livelihood with his pen, but he seems to have had
 
 LIFE OF LESAGE. Iv 
 
 little facility in verse-making, and not to have been 
 always witty, for Piron in his parody of the opera 
 Philomele calls him M. Sans-Rime, and in his Arle- 
 quin-Pigmalion makes Polichinelle .ask : "Why should 
 a fool not sometimes say some good things as now and 
 then the wise man (Lesage) says some bad ones ? " In 
 the first-mentioned parody we also catch a glimpse of 
 Lesage's amusements, for when Sans-Rime is asked 
 whence he comes, he replies : " From the coffee-house, 
 where for six sols I pass the day as usual, play chess, 
 read the news, make fun of authors, and speak well of 
 myself." ' 
 
 He dwelt almost constantly in Paris, and the 
 Rev. Joseph Spence, who visited him, 2 describes his 
 house, " which is in the faubourg St Jacques ; and so, 
 open to the country air : the gardens laid out in the 
 prettiest manner that ever I saw, for a town garden. 
 It was as pretty as it was small ; and when he was in 
 the study part of it he was quite retired from the noise 
 of the street, or any interruptions from his own family. 
 The garden was only of the breadth of the house, from 
 which you stept out into a raised square parterre, 
 planted with a variety of the choicest flowers. From 
 this you went down, by a flight of steps on each side, 
 into a berceau, which led to two rooms or summer- 
 houses quite at the end of the garden. These were 
 joined by an open portico, the roof of which was 
 supported with columns ; so that he could walk from 
 the one to the other all under cover, in the intervals 
 of writing. The berceaux were covered with vines and 
 honeysuckles, and the space between them was grove 
 
 1 J. Desnoiresterres, La Come'die Satiriqw au dix-huitieme Slide, P.iris, 
 1885, ch. i. 
 
 2 Spence's Anecdotes, 1820.
 
 Ivi LIFE OF LESAGE. 
 
 work. It was in this right hand room as you 
 go down that he wrote Gil Bias" Mr Spence paid 
 Lesage a visit in summer time, but might have told 
 another tale if he had called on him during the winter 
 season. Our Englishman seems also to have had some 
 conversation with the French author, for he repeats that 
 Lesage, when " speaking of his Gil Bias and Diable 
 Boiteux" called these books his enfants perdus, stated 
 that they had " made my (his) Hidalgo a Lord in the 
 English translation of Gil Bias, and a burgomaster in 
 the Dutch," and that he further observed : " I verily 
 believe that people are much alike in all countries; 
 one cannot paint anyone without painting a thousand." 
 Spence also notices that when " somebody had been 
 describing the perpetual complaints of the people in 
 England, in spite of all their privileges and enjoyments, 
 Lesage should have said : ' Surely the people of Eng- 
 land are the most unhappy people on the face of the 
 earth, with liberty, property, and three meals a 
 day ;'" and that he also heard our author say, at a 
 time he was not rolling in riches : "I thank God, 1 
 don't wish for any one thing I could not pray for 
 aloud ! " 
 
 Lesage, who had been deaf since he was forty 
 years old, but yet attended the rehearsals of all his 
 pieces, had long ago found out that the life of an 
 author was not that of a Sybarite, but had to be 
 passed in laborious and sedentary occupations, amidst 
 many mental anxieties, generally rewarded by a not 
 over-abundant pay, seasoned by occasional attacks of 
 envy and malice. As he was no flatterer of the great, 
 did not attach himself to any party or influential 
 nobleman, dared to have ^opinions of his own, and was 
 not to be bribed, he had to work hard for his daily
 
 LIFE OF LESAGE. Ivii 
 
 bread, and gained a mere pittance. Finally lie was 
 obliged, by increasing age and infirmities, and by the 
 grief caused by the death of his eldest son, de Mont- 
 me'nil, an actor, 1 from whom he had long been estranged, 
 but to whom he had become reconciled, and with 
 whom he even seemed to have lived for some time, to 
 go in 1743 with his wife and daughter and reside at 
 Boulogne-sur-Mer with his second son, an abbe, a 
 canon of the cathedral, and secretary to the bishop of 
 that town, Mons. Henriau. This canon was a well- 
 known bon vivant, had a good voice, and used often to 
 sing some of the couplets which his father had written 
 for the Theatre de la Foire. The light-hearted and 
 epicurean abbe Voisenon, then grand vicar of the 
 diocese, used to meet our author, and says of him 
 that "he was the first person he ever met who 
 suffered from deafness and did not lose his good temper ; 
 nay, that now and then he even seemed to take a 
 pleasure in his infirmity. He could only hear with a 
 speaking trumpet, and called it his benefactor; for 
 'if I go anywhere,' Lesage is reputed to have said, 
 ' and meet some people I don't know, I use my trum- 
 pet, but if I discover they are nincompoops, I pop it 
 again into my pocket and defy them to annoy me.'" 
 The Count de Tresan, a military officer of high repute, 
 
 1 Spence says in his Anecdotes : " Moutmenil ia the best actor in 
 France, for plain, easy, genteel comedy ; when he was upon the stage 
 he did and said everything so naturally, that he seemed the very person 
 that he represented ; and one almost forgot that he was upon a stage. 
 Although so excellent an actor, the abbe (Colvil) said that he did not get 
 above a hundred Louis d'or a year by his profession." This same atibe 
 told Spence that " Monsieur Lesage lives in a pretty genteel manner, 
 though he has little more now to live on than what his son Montmcnil 
 gets by the stage. He is the best of sons, and they live together in the 
 greatest harmony."
 
 Iviii LIFE OF LESAGE. 
 
 and a dabbler in the fields of literature, who lived for 
 some time at Boulogne, and used to visit our author, 
 then about seventy-seven, says that " the old man 
 was in a state of half torpor till mid -day, but he then 
 revived, and was fairly in possession of his faculties 
 till sundown." At last, however, he did not even 
 revive at that time, and died on the 17th of November 
 1747, in the eightieth year of his age, leaving behind 
 him a wife who shortly afterwards followed him, and 
 besides his son, the clergyman, another son, who under 
 the name of de Pittenec acted in the provinces and in 
 Germany, as well as an only daughter, Marie-Elizabeth, 
 who survived the whole family, and is said to have 
 died in great distress in the hospital of Boulogne.
 
 THE AUTHORS DECLARATION. 
 
 As there are some people who cannot read without 
 seeing personal portraits in the vicious or ridiculous 
 characters which they meet with in works of this kind, 
 I declare to these evil-minded readers that they will 
 err if they do so in the case of this book. I declare 
 publicly that my purpose is only to represent human 
 life such as it really is ; God forbid that I should 
 purpose to delineate any man in particular. Let 
 no reader, therefore, assume to himself that to which 
 others may lay an equal claim, lest, as Phcedrus ob- 
 serves, he should unluckily expose his own character : 
 Stulte nudabit animi conscientiam. 
 
 There are certain physicians in Castile as well as 
 in France, whose practice it is to take rather too much 
 blood from their patients. The same vices and the 
 same eccentricities are to be seen everywhere. I con- 
 fess that I have not always exactly adhered to the man- 
 ners of the Spaniards ; and those who are acquainted 
 with the disorderly lives of the actresses in Madrid, 
 may reproach me with having described their irregu- 
 larities too indulgently ; but I thought it necessary to 
 soften them slightly, that they might be the more con- 
 formable to the manners of our own country.
 
 GIL BLAS TO THE READER. 
 
 GENTLE READER, before you read the history of my 
 life, listen to a story I am going to tell you : 
 
 Two students went together from Pennafiel to Sala- 
 manca. Being tired and thirsty they sat down by a 
 spring they met with on the road. While they were 
 resting there, after having quenched their thirst, they 
 accidentally perceived on a stone that was level with 
 the ground, some letters already partly worn away by 
 time, and by the feet of the flocks that came to water 
 at the fountain. They threw some water on the stone 
 to clean it, and then read these words in Castilian : 
 Aqui estd encerrada el alma del licenciado Pedro 
 Garcia* .- 1 " Here lies shut up the soul of the licentiate 
 Peter Garcias." 
 
 The younger of the two students, who was pert 
 and thoughtless, no sooner read this inscription than 
 he burst into a loud laugh. " Can anything be more 
 ridiculous ? " said he. " Here lies shut up the soul. 
 ... A soul shut up ! ... I should like to have 
 
 1 According to Mr Everett in the North American Review, the word 
 encerrada ought to be " enterrada, the inscription being a parody on the 
 common epitaphical formula, Here lies interred the body, etc. The cor- 
 rected reading justifies the mirth of the thoughtless student, who is 
 represented as having been greatly diverted with the idea of une dme 
 enferme'e, a soul imprisoned or shut up. There is nothing in this notion 
 particularly pleasant ; but the contrast of the inscription, Here lies 
 interred the soul of the licentiate, with an ordinary epitaph, might natur- 
 ally be expected to excite the laughter of a shallow-pated youngster, 
 like the one supposed."
 
 Ixii GIL BLAS TO THE READER. 
 
 known the eccentric individual who was the author 
 of such an absurd epitaph ! " Having uttered these 
 words he rose and walked away. His fellow-traveller, 
 who had more sense, said to himself : " There must be 
 some mystery in this affair ; I shall remain here and 
 try to discover it." He allowed his friend to depart, 
 and then, without loss of time, began to dig round 
 the stone with his knife. He succeeded so well that 
 he raised it, and found underneath a leathern purse 
 which he opened, and in which were a hundred 
 ducats, and a card on which was the following 
 sentence in Latin : " Whosoever thou art who hast 
 sense enough to discover the meaning of the inscrip- 
 tion, inherit my money, and make a better use of it 
 than I have done." The student, delighted at his 
 discovery, replaced the stone in its former position, 
 and walked on to Salamanca with the soul of the 
 licentiate. 
 
 Gentle Reader, whosoever you may be, you will 
 certainly resemble one or other of these students. If 
 you peruse my adventures without paying attention 
 to the moral instructions which they contain, you will 
 derive no advantage from this work ; but if you read 
 it carefully, you will find in it, according to the 
 precept of Horace, profit mingled with pleasure.
 
 BOOK I,
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE BIRTH AND EDUCATION OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 MY father, Bias of Santillana, after having borne 
 arms for a long time in the service of the Spanish 
 monarch, retired to his native town. There he 
 married a second-rate citizen's daughter, who 
 was no longer in the bloom of her youth, and I 
 came into the world ten months after their mar- 
 riage. They afterwards went to live in Oviedo, 
 where they were obliged to go into service, my 
 mother becoming a lady's-maid, and my father 
 a gentleman-in-waiting.* As their only fortune 
 was their wages, I should have run the risk of 
 being somewhat badly brought up, if an uncle of 
 mine, a canon, had not lived in the town. 
 His name was Gil Perez. He was my mother's 
 eldest brother, and my god-father. Imagine to 
 yourself a little man. three feet and a half in 
 height, remarkably fat, with his head sunk be- 
 tween his shoulders : such was my uncle. More- 
 over, he was an ecclesiastic who thought only 
 how to live well, that is, how to enjoy good 
 cheer; his prebend's stall, which was not a 
 bad one, supplying him with the means. 
 
 * Formerly Spanish ladies of rank never left the house without 
 being accompanied by some attendant, called escadero, who 
 generally was of a certain age.
 
 4 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 He took me into his house in my infancy, 
 and charged himself with my education. I 
 seemed to him so sprightly that he resolved 
 to cultivate my mind. He bought me a 
 primer, and undertook himself to teach me to 
 read ; which was no less useful to him than to 
 me, for by teaching me my letters he brushed 
 up again his reading, which he had greatly 
 neglected ; and by dint of application he came 
 to read his breviary straight off a thing he 
 had never done before. He would gladly, also, 
 have taught me the Latin tongue; it would 
 have been so much money in his pocket, but, 
 alas, poor Gil Perez ! he had never in his life 
 understood the rudiments of that language. 
 He was, perhaps (for I do not advance this as 
 a certainty), the most ignorant canon of the 
 Chapter; and, indeed, I have heard say that 
 he did not obtain his canonry by his erudition, 
 but that he owed it entirely to the gratitude 
 of a few kind-hearted nuns whose discreet 
 messenger he had been, and who had sufficient 
 influence to get priest's orders conferred upon 
 him without examination. 
 
 He was obliged therefore to put me under 
 the rod of a master: he sent me to Doctor 
 Godinez, who passed for the cleverest pedant 
 in Oviedo. I profited so much by the instruc- 
 tions I received, that after some five or six 
 years I had gained a smattering of the Greek 
 authors, and a fair knowledge of the Latin
 
 GIL BLAS. 5 
 
 poets. I also applied myself to logic, which 
 taught me to argue freely ; indeed, I grew so 
 fond of discussion that I used to stop the 
 passers by, whether I knew them or not, in 
 order to engage in controversy with them. 
 Sometimes I addressed myself to certain 
 Hibernian strangers * who asked no better ; 
 and you should then have seen us argue! such 
 gestures ! such grimaces ! such contortions ! 
 Our eyes were sparkling with fury, and our 
 mouths foamed ; we might have been taken for 
 madmen rather than for philosophers. 
 
 At the same time, by this means, I acquired 
 in the town a reputation for learning, to the 
 great delight of my uncle, who conceived that 
 I should soon cease to be an expense to him. 
 " Now, Gil Bias," said he to me one day, " the 
 time of your childhood is gone. You are past 
 seventeen, and you have become quite a clever 
 lad. We must think how we can push you 
 on. I am inclined to send you to the Univer- 
 sity of Salamanca : with the intelligence that 
 I can see you possess, you will not fail to 
 obtain a good place. I shall give you a few 
 ducats f for your journey, with my mule, 
 which is worth ten or a dozen pistoles; J you can 
 sell it in Salamanca, and use the money to keep 
 yourself until you have obtained a situation." 
 
 * The original has figures hibernoises, an allusion to the strangers 
 who caine from Ireland to France with James the Second. 
 
 t A Spanish ducat was a gold coin worth about nine shillings. 
 { A pistole was a gold coin of the value of about sixteen shillings.
 
 G THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 He could not have proposed to me anything 
 more agreeable, for I ardently longed to see 
 the world. Nevertheless, I had enough self- 
 restraint to conceal my joy; and when the 
 time had come to part, by appearing to think 
 only of the grief of quitting an uncle to 
 whom I was under so many obligations, I 
 quite softened the good soul, who gave 
 me more money than he would have done 
 could he have seen the bottom of my heart. 
 Before setting out I embraced my father and 
 mother, who did not spare their advice, ex- 
 horting me to pray God for my uncle, to live 
 honestly, not to meddle in things evil, and, 
 above all, never to take what belonged to 
 others. After they had lectured me for a very 
 long while, they made me a present of their 
 blessing the only thing I expected from them. 
 Presently I mounted my mule, and quitted the 
 town. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 GIL BLAS' ALARMS ON HIS WAY TO PEGNAFLOR : 
 WHAT HE DID WHEN HE GOT THERE, AND WITH 
 WHAT KIND OF MAN HE SUPPED. 
 
 BEHOLD me then, having left Oviedo, on the 
 road to Pegnaflor, in the open country, master
 
 GIL BLAS. 7 
 
 of my own actions, of a sorry mule, and of 
 forty good ducats, not reckoning a few reals,* 
 which I had purloined from my much esteemed 
 uncle. The first thing I did was to let my 
 mule go as it liked, and that was very slow. I 
 dropped the rein on its neck, and taking 
 my ducats from my pocket, I began to count 
 them over and over again in my hat. I could 
 not restrain my joy. I had never seen so much 
 money before; and I was never weary of admir- 
 ing and re-handling my coins. I was counting 
 them for perhaps the twentieth time, when, all 
 on a sudden, my mule, raising its head and 
 pricking up its ears, came to a stop in the 
 middle of the high-road. I fancied something 
 frightened it. I looked to see what it might 
 be, and I saw upon the ground a hat, upside 
 down, upon which there was a large beaded 
 rosary, while at the same time I heard a piti- 
 able voice pronounce these words : " Honoured 
 traveller, have pity, I beseech you, on a poor 
 maimed soldier ; cast, if you please, a few pieces 
 of money into this hat. You will be rewarded 
 for it in the other world." I turned my eyes 
 at once to the side from which the voice came; 
 and saw at the foot of a thicket, twenty or thirty 
 paces from me, a sort of soldier, who, on two 
 crossed sticks, supported the end of a blunder- 
 
 * A real of plate was a small Spanish, coin, varying in value 
 according to the time of its coinage, from* 5 to 6^ pence sterling ; 
 the real vellon was worth ahout half that amount.
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 buss which looked to me larger than a pike, 
 and with which he was taking aim at me. At 
 this sight, which made me tremble for the 
 property of the church, I stopped short. I 
 immediately grasped my ducats tight, drew out 
 a few reals, and approaching the hat which 
 lay ready to receive the charity of the 
 terrified faithful, threw them in one after the 
 other, to show the soldier that I was dealing 
 nobly by him. He was satisfied with my 
 generosity, and gave me as many blessings as 
 I gave my mule kicks in its sides, by way of 
 instantly getting away from him. But the 
 plaguy beast paid no heed to my impatience, 
 its old habit of jogging on discreetly beneath 
 my uncle having made it completely forget 
 how to gallop. 
 
 From this occurrence I drew -a by no means 
 favourable omen for my journey. I reflected 
 that I was not yet in Salamanca, and that I 
 might well meet with a worse adventure. My 
 uncle seemed to me very imprudent not to have 
 put me in charge of a muleteer.* That was 
 undoubtedly what he ought to have done ; but 
 he imagined that by giving me his mule my 
 journey would cost less, and he had thought 
 more of that than of the perils I might 
 encounter on my way, Therefore, to remedy 
 his error I resolved, if I had the good fortune 
 
 * At that time there were no public conveyances in Spain, and 
 all travellers had to use mules, under the charge of muleteers.
 
 GIL BLAS. 9 
 
 of arriving at Pegnaflor, to sell my mule there 
 and to go with a muleteer to Astorga, whence 
 I would proceed in the same way to Salamanca. 
 Though I had never been out of Oviedo I was 
 not ignorant of the names of the towns through 
 which I had to pass, having informed myself of 
 them before setting out. 
 
 I arrived safely at Pegnaflor, and I stopped 
 at the door of a tolerably decent looking inn. 
 I had no sooner alighted than the landlord re- 
 ceived me very civilly. He untied my trunk with 
 his own hands, swung it across his shoulders, 
 and ushered me into a room, whilst one of his 
 servants led my mule to the stable. This land- 
 lord, the greatest chatterbox in the Asturias, 
 and as ready to relate his own business with- 
 out being asked, as he was curious to know 
 that of other people, informed me that his 
 name was Andrew Corcuelo ; * that he had 
 served a long time in the king's army as a 
 sergeant, and that fifteen months ago he had 
 quitted the service to marry a girl from 
 Castropol, who, although somewhat swarthy, 
 did not allow his custom to fall off. He told 
 me an infinite number of other things with the 
 hearing of which I could very well have 
 dispensed, after which confidences, thinking 
 himself entitled to have everything out of me, 
 he asked me whence I came, whither I was 
 
 * Corzuelo, not Corcuelo, is the Spanish for a little fallow- 
 deer.
 
 10 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 going, and who 1 was. To which inquiries I 
 was compelled to answer bit by bit, because he 
 accompanied each question with a low bow, 
 beseeching me with such a respectful air to 
 excuse his curiosity, that I could not help 
 satisfying it. This led me into a long con- 
 versation with him, and gave me an oppor- 
 tunity of mentioning my intention of parting 
 with my mule, in order to go forward with 
 a muleteer. He much approved of this, 
 though not very concisely, for he descanted on 
 all the annoying accidents which might befall 
 me on the road, even relating several ominous 
 stories of travellers, till I thought he would 
 never have done. End he did, however, by 
 saying that, if I wished to sell my mule, he 
 knew an honest dealer who would buy it. I 
 gave him to understand that he would oblige 
 me by sending for his acquaintance, of whom he 
 accordingly went in search with great eager- 
 ness. 
 
 He soon returned, accompanied by his friend, 
 whom he introduced to me, and whose honesty 
 he highly praised. We all three went into the 
 yard, where my mule was brought out. They 
 made the animal pass backwards and forwards 
 before the dealer, who examined it from head 
 to foot, and did not fail to say a good deal in 
 its disparagement. I confess that there was 
 not much good to be said of it ; but if it had
 
 GIL BLAS. 11 
 
 been the Pope's mule,* the dealer would have 
 found something to say against it. He declared 
 that it had all the faults a mule could have; and 
 the better to convince me of this he appealed 
 to the landlord, who doubtless had his reasons 
 for agreeing with him. " Well," said the 
 dealer, with an air of indifference, " what do you 
 expect to sell that ugly animal for?" After 
 the praises he had bestowed on it, and the con- 
 firmation of Mr Corcuelo, whom I thought an 
 honest man and a good judge, they might have 
 had my mule for nothing; so I said to the 
 dealer that I would trust to his honesty ; that 
 he had only to value the beast conscientiously, 
 and I would stand to his valuation. Then, 
 with the air of an honourable man, he replied 
 that in speaking of his conscience I was taking 
 him at his weakest. In fact, it was not at his 
 strongest, for instead of valuing the animal at 
 ten or twelve pistoles, as my uncle had done, 
 he was not ashamed to offer three ducats for 
 it, which I received with as much pleasure as 
 if I had got the best of the bargain. 
 
 After having so advantageously disposed of 
 my mule, the landlord took me to a muleteer 
 who was to leave the next day for Astorga. 
 This muleteer told me that he should start 
 before daybreak, and that he would be sure to 
 
 * The Pope's mule appears to have been a privileged animal. 
 Eabelais in Gargantua, bk. i. ch. v., remarks, " I never drink but 
 at my hours, like the Pope's mule."
 
 12 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 come and rouse me. We agreed upon the 
 price both for the hire of a mule and for my 
 food ; and when all was settled between us, I 
 returned to the inn with Corcuelo, who told 
 me on the way the history of this muleteer. 
 He repeated to me all that was said of him in 
 the town. In short he would once more have 
 deafened me with his troublesome gossip, if by 
 good luck a man of a tolerably good appear- 
 ance had not come to interrupt him, ad- 
 dressing him with much civility. I left them 
 together, and went on my way, without the 
 slightest suspicion that I formed the subject 
 of their conversation. 
 
 As soon as I got to the inn, I called for 
 my supper. It was a fast-day. They pre- 
 pared a few eggs for me, and while these 
 were being cooked I entered into conversation 
 with the landlady, whom I had not seen before. 
 She appeared to me rather pretty ; and I found 
 her so lively and attractive that I could have 
 well imagined, even if her husband had not 
 told me so, that this inn would be much fre- 
 quented. When the omelette was ready, I sat 
 down to the table by myself, but I had scarcely 
 eaten a mouthful when the landlord entered, 
 followed by the person who had stopped him 
 in the street. This gentleman wore a long 
 rapier, and seemed about thirty years old. He 
 approached me in a most friendly manner. 
 " Master Student," he said to me, " I have just
 
 GIL BLAS. 13 
 
 learned that you are Senor Gil Bias of Santil- 
 lana, the ornament of Oviedo, and the torch of 
 philosophy. Is it indeed possible that you are 
 that profound scholar, that brilliant wit, whose 
 reputation is so great in this neighbourhood ? 
 You do not know," he continued, addressing 
 the landlord and landlady, " You do not know 
 whom you have got hold of. You have a trea- 
 sure in your house ! You behold in this young 
 gentleman the eighth wonder of the world ! " 
 Then turning towards me, and throwing his 
 arms about my neck: " Excuse my transports," 
 he added, " I cannot restrain the pleasure 
 which your presence causes me." 
 
 I could not answer him at once, because he 
 held me so tight that I was not able to breathe 
 freely. As soon, however, as I got my head 
 free from his embrace, I said to him, " I did not 
 think my name was known at Pegnaflor." 
 "Known?" he resumed in his former strain. 
 " We keep a list of all the celebrated people 
 within twenty leagues of us. You are looked 
 upon here as a prodigy ; and I do not doubt 
 that Spain will one day be as proud of having 
 produced you as Greece was of having given 
 birth to her wise men." These words were fol- 
 lowed by a fresh embrace, which I was obliged 
 to endure, at the risk of undergoing the fate of 
 Antaeus. If I had had any experience, I should 
 not have been the dupe of his exaggerations. 
 I might well have known by his outrageous
 
 14 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 flatteries that he was one of those parasites who 
 are to be found in all towns, and who, as soon 
 as a stranger arrives, introduce themselves to 
 him in order to fill their stomachs at his ex- 
 pense. My youth and my vanity, however, 
 made me judge of the matter quite differently. 
 My admirer seemed to me a perfect gentleman, 
 and I invited him to have supper with me. " Oh, 
 most gladly," he cried ; " I thank my stars too 
 much for having brought me into the company 
 of the illustrious Gil Bias of Santillana, not 
 to enjoy my good fortune as long as I can. I 
 have no great appetite," he continued; "I 
 will sit down simply to keep you company, and 
 I will eat a mouthful for politeness' sake." 
 
 As soon as he had said these words my 
 panegyrist sat down opposite me. They 
 brought him a knife and fork, and he at- 
 tacked the omelette as if he had not eaten 
 anything for three days. From the manner in 
 which he set himself to work, I saw clearly 
 that it would soon be finished. I ordered 
 a second, which was made so quickly that 
 it was served as we were finishing, or rather as 
 he was finishing, the first. Nevertheless he 
 went at it just as swiftly, and contrived, with- 
 out missing a bite, to overwhelm me with 
 praise, which made me thoroughly well pleased 
 with my small self. He drank, too, very fre- 
 quently. At one time it was to my health, 
 and at another to that of my father and
 
 GIL BLAS. 15 
 
 mother, whose happiness in possessing such a 
 son as myself he could not sufficiently enlarge 
 upon. At the same time he kept filling my 
 glass, and urged me to pledge the healths he 
 had proposed. I did not respond badly 
 to the toasts which he drank ; and this, to- 
 gether with his flatteries, insensibly put me into 
 such a good humour that, seeing our second 
 omelette half eaten, I asked the landlord if he 
 had no fish to give us. Master Corcuelo, who 
 to all appearance was in league with the para- 
 site, replied : "I have an excellent trout, but 
 those who eat it must pay well for it ; it is too 
 great a dainty for you." "What do you call 
 too great a dainty?" cried my flatterer in a 
 loud voice. " You do not think what you are 
 saying, my friend ; know that you have nothing 
 too good for Senor Gil Bias of Santillana, who 
 deserves to be treated like a prince." 
 
 I was very glad that he had taken up the 
 landlord's last words, and he only anticipated 
 "me ; I felt offended at them, and said haughtily 
 to Corcuelo: "Bring us your trout, and give 
 yourself no trouble about the consequences ! " 
 The landlord, who wanted nothing better, set 
 about preparing it, and was not long before he 
 brought it up. At the sight of this new dish, 
 the eyes of the parasite sparkled with joy ; his 
 complaisance was as great as ever; that is to 
 say, he attacked the fish as he had attacked 
 the eggs, until at last he was compelled to give
 
 16 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 in, for fear of mischance, being by this time 
 full to the throat. In the end, after having 
 eaten and drunk his fill, he chose to bring the 
 comedy to a close. " Senor Gil Bias," said he, 
 getting up from the table, " I am too well 
 pleased with the good cheer with which you 
 have treated me to leave you without giving 
 you an important piece of advice, which you 
 seem to me to need greatly. Henceforth, be 
 on your guard against praise. Mistrust people 
 whom you do not know. You may meet 
 others who, like me, would make a sport of 
 your credulity, and perhaps push matters still 
 further ; do not be duped by them ; and do not 
 believe yourself, upon their word, the eighth 
 wonder of the world." As he finished these 
 words, he laughed in my face, and went away. 
 I felt this imposition as much as I have 
 since felt the greatest misfortunes that have 
 befallen me. I could not console myself for 
 having been so grossly deceived, or rather for 
 feeling my pride humbled. "What!" I ex- 
 claimed, " the rascal has been making sport of 
 me ! He addressed the landlord just now only 
 to pump him, or rather they were in the plot 
 together. Ah, simple Gil Bias, die of shame for 
 having given such knaves a good chance to be- 
 fool you ! A pretty story they will make out of 
 all this ! It may get as far as Oviedo, and will 
 do you much credit there ! Your parents will 
 doubtless repent of having bestowed so long a
 
 GIL BLAS. 17 
 
 lecture on a fool ; far from exhorting me not to 
 deceive anyone, they ought to have advised me 
 not to allow myself to be deceived." Troubled 
 by these mortifying thoughts, and burning with 
 vexation, I shut myself up in my room, and 
 went to bed ; but I could not sleep, and I had 
 not yet closed my eyes when the muleteer came 
 to tell me that he was only waiting for me to 
 be off. I got up at once, and as I was dressing 
 Corcuelo came in with a bill, in which the 
 trout was not forgotten. Not only was I 
 obliged to pay what it pleased him, but I had 
 the further vexation of perceiving, when I 
 handed him my money, that the villain had 
 not forgotten my adventure of the preceding 
 night. After paying smartly for a supper 
 which I had so ill digested, I betook myself 
 to the muleteer with my trunk, heartily wish- 
 ing that the parasite, the landlord, and the 
 inn were one and all at the devil. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE TEMPTATION OF THE MULETEER ON THE ROAD ; 
 ITS CONSEQUENCES ; AND HOW GIL BLAS FELL 
 INTO CHARYBDIS BY TRYING TO AVOID SCYLLA. 
 
 I WAS not the only one who travelled with the 
 muleteer : there were two young gentlemen of 
 Pegnaflor ; a little chorister from Mondognedo,
 
 18 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 who was strolling about the country; and a 
 young tradesman of -Astorga, who was return- 
 ing home from Yerco, with his newly married 
 wife. We very soon made each other's 
 acquaintance; and each had presently told 
 whence he came and whither he was going. 
 The newly-married lady, although young, was 
 so tawny and possessed so few attractions, 
 that I did not much care to look at her. 
 Nevertheless her youth and her plumpness 
 took the fancy of the muleteer, who resolved 
 to try and gain her favour. He spent the day 
 thinking over this pretty plot, but he delayed 
 the execution of it until Cacabelos, the last 
 place where we were to sleep. He made us 
 alight at the first inn we came to. The house 
 was more in the country than in the town, and 
 he knew the landlord to be a discreet and 
 accommodating man. He took care to have 
 us ushered into a remote apartment, where he 
 left us to take our supper in peace; but at the 
 end of the meal, in comes our muleteer 
 with a furious air. " 'S' death ! " cried he, " I 
 have been robbed. I had a hundred pistoles 
 in a leather bag ; and I will have them back 
 again. I am going to the borough magis- 
 trate,* who does not understand a joke of this 
 sort, and you will all be put to the rack, until 
 you confess the crime and restore the money." 
 
 * In Spanish boroughs there was only an Alcade, a kind of 
 inferior magistrate. In the large towns there were Corregidors.
 
 GIL BLAS. 19 
 
 Having said these words with a very natural 
 air, he went out ; and we remained behind in 
 the greatest consternation. 
 
 It did not occur to us that this could be a 
 trick, for we did not know each other well 
 enough to be able to answer for each other's 
 honesty. To say the truth, I suspected the 
 little chorister of having done the business, 
 and he probably suspected me. Besides, we 
 were all greenhorns, and did not know the 
 formalities usual in such cases. We honestly 
 believed that to begin with we should all be 
 put to the torture. Therefore, yielding to our 
 terror, we left the room quickly enough. Some 
 gained the street, others the garden each one 
 sought safety in flight ; and the young trades- 
 man of Astorga, as much disturbed as the rest 
 of us at the thought of the rack, made off, 
 like another .ZErieas, without troubling himself 
 about his wife. Then the muleteer, as I after- 
 wards learned, delighted to see his stratagem 
 succeed according to his expectations, went to 
 boast of his clever trick to the tradesman's 
 wife, and to try and profit by the opportunity. 
 But this Jjucretia of the Asturias, to whom the 
 sorry appearance of her tempter lent additional 
 force, made a vigorous resistance, and shrieked 
 aloud. The patrol, who happened at that 
 moment to be passing the inn, which they 
 knew merited a little looking after, entered 
 and demanded the cause of these cries. The
 
 20 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 landlord who was singing in his kitchen, and 
 pretended he had heard nothing, was obliged 
 to lead the officer and his men to the room of 
 the person who was crying out. They came in 
 the nick of time, for the Asturian lady was 
 quite exhausted. The officer, a coarse, ill- 
 mannered fellow, no sooner saw what was the 
 matter than he gave the amorous muleteer five 
 or six blows with the butt end of his halberd, 
 addressing him in terms no less offensive to 
 modesty than the action which called them 
 forth. Nor was this all : he seized the offender 
 and took him before the magistrate, with his 
 female accuser, who, in spite of the disorder she 
 was in, insisted on going herself -to obtain 
 justice. The judge heard what she had to 
 say, and having attentively looked at her, de- 
 cided that the accused was unworthy of pardon. 
 He had him stripped at once, and scourged in 
 his presence ; then he ordered that on the 
 morrow, if the husband of the Asturian lady 
 had not returned, two of the guard, at the 
 expense of the delinquent, should escort the 
 complainant to the town of Astorga. 
 
 For my part, possibly more terrified than all the 
 rest, I reached the open country ; I scampered I 
 know not through how many fields and heaths, 
 and leaping all the ditches I found on my way, 
 came at last hard by a forest. I was about to 
 enter it, and to hide myself in the thickest 
 coppice, when two men on horseback suddenly
 
 GIL BLAS. 21 
 
 appeared before me. They cried out, " Who 
 goes there?" and as my surprise prevented me 
 from answering immediately, they came up to 
 me, and each clapping a pistol to my breast, 
 ordered me to tell them who I was, whence I 
 came, what business I had in that forest, and 
 above all, to conceal nothing from them. To 
 this style of interrogation, which seemed to me 
 quite as efficacious as the rack with which the 
 muleteer had threatened us, I replied that I 
 was a young man from Oviedo, going to 
 Salamanca : I even related to them the fright 
 which had just been given us, and confessed 
 that the fear of being put to torture had 
 induced me to run away. They burst out 
 laughing at these words, which bore witness to 
 my simplicity ; and one of them said to me : 
 " Take courage, my friend; come with us and 
 fear nothing; we will see you safe." With 
 these words, he made me get up behind him, 
 and we plunged into the forest. 
 
 I did not know what to think of this 
 adventure, yet I anticipated no evil from 
 it. If these people, I argued to myself, had 
 been thieves, they would have robbed me, 
 and perhaps murdered ine. They must be 
 honest gentlemen of this neighbourhood, who, 
 seeing me terrified, have taken pity on me, 
 and are carrying me away with them out of 
 charity. I was not long left in doubt. After 
 taking several turnings and windings in pro-
 
 22 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 found silence, we came to the foot of a hill, 
 where we dismounted. " This is where we 
 live," s;ud one of the horsemen. In vain I 
 looked on every side ; I saw neither house 
 nor hut, nor the least appearance of a dwelling. 
 The two men, in the meantime, raised a large 
 wooden trap-door, covered with brushwood, 
 which concealed the entrance to a long sloping 
 subterranean passage, into which the horses 
 went of their own accord, like animals ac- 
 customed to it. The horsemen made me 
 enter with them. Then they lowered the 
 trap-door with ropes fastened to it for the 
 purpose and thus was the worthy nephew of 
 my uncle Perez caught like a rat in a trap. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DESCRIPTION OP THE SUBTERRANEAN DWELLING 
 AND WHAT GIL BLAS SAW THERE. 
 
 I KNEW then with what sort of people I was, 
 and you may judge readily enough that while 
 this knowledge dispelled my former fear, a 
 greater and more reasonable terror took posses- 
 sion of my mind. I thought I was going to 
 lose my life and my ducats as well. I re- 
 garded myself as a victim being led to the 
 altar, and walked, already more dead than 
 alive, between my two conductors, who, per- 
 ceiving me tremble, vainly exhorted me to
 
 GIL BLAS. 23 
 
 fear nothing. When we had advanced about 
 two hundred paces, turning and descending all 
 the way, we entered a stable lighted by two 
 large iron lamps hanging from the roof. There 
 was plenty of straw, and several casks full of 
 barley. Twenty horses might easily have 
 stood there ; but there were then only the two 
 which had just arrived. An old negro, who, 
 nevertheless, looked strong enough, began to 
 tie them up to the rack. 
 
 We left the stable; and, by the dismal 
 glimmer of a few other lamps which seemed to 
 light up these places only to reveal their 
 horror, we came to a kitchen, in which an old 
 woman was broiling some meat on a gridiron, 
 and preparing supper. The kitchen was fur- 
 nished with the requisite utensils, and close 
 by might be seen a larder provided with all 
 sorts of provisions. The cook (I must draw 
 her portrait) was a person on the wrong side 
 of sixty. She had had fiery red hair in her 
 youth ; for time had not so whitened her locks 
 that they did not still retain some tinge of 
 their primitive colour. She had an olive com- 
 plexion, and her chin was pointed and pro- 
 minent. Her lips were much fallen in ; a large 
 hooked nose came down over her mouth, arid 
 her eyes seemed to be of a very fine purple-red. 
 
 " Here, dame Leonarda," said one of the 
 horsemen, presenting me to this lovely angel of 
 darkness, " here is a young man we have
 
 24 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 brought you." Then he turned to me, and 
 observing that 1 was pale and weak, he said : 
 "Friend, dismiss your fear; no harm is in- 
 tended you. We wanted a servant to assist 
 our cook; we came across you, and it is a 
 lucky thing for you. You will occupy the post 
 of a lad who was foolish enough to die a 
 fortnight ago. He was a young man of a very 
 delicate constitution. You seem stronger than 
 he was : you will not die so soon. It is true 
 you will never see the sun again; but, as a 
 compensation, you shall have good cheer and 
 a rousing fire. You'll pass your days with 
 Leonarda, who is a very kind creature, and 
 you shall have all your little comforts. I mean 
 to let you see," he continued, "that you are 
 not with beggars." At the same time he took 
 a torch, and bade me follow him. 
 
 He took me into a cellar, where I saw a 
 countless number of bottles and earthenware 
 jars, well-stoppered, which he told me were 
 full of excellent wine. Then he made me pass 
 through several apartments. In some there 
 were pieces of linen, in others woollen and 
 silken stuffs, and in one chamber I perceived 
 gold and silver, not to mention much plate, 
 with different armorial bearings. After this I 
 followed him into a great hall which was 
 lighted by three brass lustres, and which com- 
 municated with the other apartments. Here he 
 put fresh questions to me. He asked me my
 
 GIL BLAS. 25 
 
 name, and why I had left Oviedo ; and when I 
 had satisfied his curiosity, he said : " Well, 
 Gil Bias, as you left your own part of the 
 country only to seek a good place, you must 
 have been born with a silver spoon in your 
 mouth * to fall into our hands. As I have 
 already told you, you will live here in plenty, 
 and roll in gold and silver. Besides, you 
 will be safe. This cave is so constructed 
 that the officers of the Holy Brotherhood f 
 might come to this forest a hundred times 
 without discovering it. The entrance is known 
 only to me and my comrades. Perhaps you 
 may ask me how we could make it without 
 the people of the neighbourhood perceiving us ; 
 but understand, friend, that it is not our work, 
 and that it was made long ago. After the Moors 
 had become masters of Grenada, Aragon, and 
 nearly all Spain, the Christians who refused to 
 submit to the yoke of the infidels took to flight, 
 and concealed themselves in this country, in 
 Biscay, and in the Asturias, whither the brave 
 Don Pelayo J had retired. Fugitives and dis- 
 
 * The original has il faut que tu sow nd coiffd, " you must have 
 been born with a caul." 
 
 t The Santa Hermandad is a kind of brotherhood, the members 
 of which are bound to track out all criminals who have escaped 
 from justice, and deliver them into its hands. The Holy Herman- 
 dad must not be confounded with the Holy Office, that being the 
 Inquisition. 
 
 J After the defeat of the Christians by the Moors at Guadalese 
 in 711, Pelayo, son of a duke of Cantabria, gathered under his 
 command numbers of those who had fled to the mountains of the
 
 26 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 persed in small bands, they lived on the moun- 
 tains and in the woods. Some dwelt in caves, 
 and others made subterranean dwellings, of 
 which this is one. Having afterwards succeeded 
 in driving their enemies from Spain, they re- 
 turned to the towns. From that time forth their 
 hiding places have served to shelter people of 
 our profession. It is true the Holy Brotherhood 
 have discovered and destroved some of these 
 
 tt 
 
 retreats, but there are still others remaining; 
 and, thank Heaven, I have lived here in safety 
 for nearly fifteen years. My name is Captain 
 Rolando ; I am head of the band, and the 
 man you saw with me is one of my comrades." 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 OF THE ARRIVAL OF SEVERAL OTHER ROBBERS IN 
 THE CAVE, AND OF THE PLEASANT CONVERSA- 
 TION WHICH THEY ALL HAD TOGETHER. 
 
 As Captain Rolando ended his story, six new 
 comers appeared in the hall the lieutenant 
 and five of the band, who returned laden with 
 
 r ' 
 
 booty. They brought two hampers filled with 
 sugar, cinnamon, pepper, figs, almonds, and 
 
 Asturias, and, after defeating the Moslems in several battles, laid 
 the foundations of a Gothic kingdom, of which Leon was the 
 capital. He died in 737.
 
 GIL BLAS. 27 
 
 raisins. The lieutenant told the captain that 
 he had just taken these hampers from a grocer 
 of Benavento, whose mule he had likewise 
 seized. As soon as he had given an account 
 of his expedition, the plunder of the grocer 
 was taken to the store. Then there was no 
 talk save of enjoyment. A large table was set 
 up in the hall, and I was sent back to the 
 kitchen, where dame Leonarda told me what 
 I had to do. I yielded to necessity, since my 
 evil fate would have it so ; and, concealing my 
 grief, I prepared to wait upon these worthy 
 gentlemen. 
 
 I began with the sideboard, which I decked 
 with silver cups, and several earthenware 
 jars filled with the good wine which Rolando 
 had extolled to me. Next I brought in two 
 ragouts, which were no sooner served than all 
 the company sat down. They began to eat 
 with a good appetite, and I, standing behind 
 them, was ready to pour out their wine. I 
 acquitted myself so well, though I had never 
 waited before, that I was fortunate enough to 
 receive their compliments. The captain in 
 a few words related my history, which vastly 
 amused them. Then he spoke of me in a 
 highly complimentary manner ; but by this 
 time I had had enough of flattery, and I 
 could listen to it without danger. Thereupon 
 they all praised me, declaring that I seemed 
 born to be their cup-bearer, and was worth a
 
 28 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 hundred of my predecessor. And as, since his 
 death, dame Leonarda had had the honour of 
 offering these infernal gods their nectar, they 
 degraded her, and installed me in that glorious 
 office. Thus a new Ganymede, I succeeded 
 that venerable Hebe. 
 
 A large joint of roast-meat, served up shortly 
 after the ragouts, satisfied the hunger of the 
 robbers, who, drinking as steadily as they ate, 
 were soon in boisterous good humour. They 
 all began talking at once : one began a story, 
 another cracked a joke, a third shouted, a fourth 
 sang ; while no one listened to his neighbour. 
 At last Rolando, wearied of a scene to which 
 he vainly contributed a good deal on his own 
 behalf, broke in with so loud a voice that he 
 silenced the company. "Gentlemen," he said 
 in the tone of a master, " listen to what I have 
 to propose to you. Instead of deafening each 
 other by talking all together, would it not be 
 better to entertain ourselves like rational 
 beings ? A thought just strikes me : since we 
 have been together we never had the curiosity 
 to ask from what families we spring, and by 
 what chain of events we came to adopt our 
 profession. This seems to me, however, worth 
 knowing. Let us then exchange confidences, 
 and amuse ourselves." The lieutenant and the 
 rest, as if they had something very entertain- 
 ing to relate, seemed very delighted, agreed
 
 GIL BLAS. 29 
 
 to the captain's proposal, and the latter began 
 as follows : 
 
 " Gentlemen, you must know that I am the 
 only son of a rich citizen of Madrid. The day 
 of my birth was celebrated in my family by 
 endless rejoicings. My father, who was already 
 of a certain age, was extremely delighted to 
 have an heir, and my mother undertook to 
 suckle me herself. My maternal grandfather, 
 who was still alive at that time, was a harmless 
 old man, only thinking of telling his beads and 
 relating his warlike exploits ; for he had borne 
 arms a long time, and often boasted of having 
 stood fire. 1 gradually became the idol of these 
 three persons, arid was forever in their arms. 
 That study might not hurt my health in my 
 early years, they suffered me to pass my days in 
 the most childish amusements. ' Children,' said 
 my father, 'must not seriously apply themselves 
 until time has somewhat matured their under- 
 standing.' Awaiting this maturity, I learned 
 neither to read nor to write ; but for all that I 
 did not waste my time. My father taught me 
 a thousand games. I knew cards thoroughly, 
 I could handle the dice, and my grandfather 
 told me extraordinary stories about the military 
 expeditions in which he had been concerned. 
 Every day he sang me the same songs, and 
 when, after having repeated ten or a dozen 
 lines for three months, I succeeded in saying 
 them without a mistake, my parents marvelled
 
 30 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 at my memory. They seemed to be no less 
 pleased with my intelligence when, taking ad- 
 vantage of the liberty I had of saying whatever 
 I chose, I interrupted their conversation by 
 talking at random. ' Ah, what a pretty little 
 dear!' my father would cry, looking at me with 
 inexpressible delight, while my mother would 
 instantly overwhelm me with caresses, and my 
 grandfather weep for joy. I also played the most 
 unbecoming tricks before them with impunity. 
 They overlooked everything ; they adored me. 
 In the meantime, I was entering on my twelfth 
 year, and I had not yet had a master. They 
 provided me with one ; but at the same time he 
 had precise orders to teach me without employ- 
 ing any corporal punishment ; they only per- 
 mitted him to threaten me occasionally, in 
 order to inspire me with a little fear. This 
 permission did me but little good, for I either 
 laughed at my master's threats, or else, with 
 tears in my eyes, went and complained to my 
 mother or to my grandfather, and made them 
 believe that he had treated me very badly. 
 The poor devil vainly denied the accusation ; 
 he was set down as a tyrant, and I was always 
 believed before he was. One day I happened 
 to scratch myself, and began to cry as though 
 I had been flayed; my mother ran up, and 
 packed off the master there and then, though 
 he protested, and called Heaven to witness that 
 he had not even touched me.
 
 GIL BLAS. 31 
 
 " In this way I got rid of all ray teachers, 
 until one came to my mind. He was a 
 bachelor of Alcala. Oh, he was an excellent 
 master for a youth of good family! He was 
 fond of women, gambling, and wine ; I could 
 not be in better hands. He set himself first to 
 gain my affection by kindness ; he succeeded, 
 and thus made himself liked by my parents, 
 who resigned me to his care. They had no 
 cause to repent of it. He soon made me perfect 
 in the knowledge of the world, and, by taking 
 me with him to all the places he liked, he 
 inspired me with such a taste for them, that I 
 became proficient in everything except in 
 Latin. As soon as he saw that I had no 
 longer need of his instructions, he went and 
 offered them elsewhere. 
 
 " If during my childhood I had lived at 
 home just as I liked, it was much worse when 
 I became master of my actions. It was in 
 my family that I first displayed my impertin- 
 ence. I continually ridiculed my father and 
 mother, who only laughed at my sallies, and 
 the more flippant I became, the better were my 
 parents pleased with me. Meantime I got 
 into all sorts of scrapes with young men of 
 my own disposition ; and as our parents did 
 not give us enough money to continue such a 
 pleasant life, each one stole what he could lay 
 his hands on at home, and that being still in- 
 sufficient, we began to rob at night, which was
 
 32 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 no small advance. Unfortunately the Corre- 
 gidor* heard of our doings. He was going 
 to have us arrested, but we were warned 
 of his villainous designs. We took to flight, 
 and began to operate on the highway. From 
 that time forth, gentlemen, I have followed this 
 calling in which it has pleased Heaven I should 
 grow old, in spite of the dangers to which it is 
 exposed." 
 
 The captain ended here, and the lieutenant, 
 of course, spoke after him. " Gentlemen," 
 he said, "an education quite different from 
 that of Senor Kolando, has, in my case, 
 led to the same result. My father was a 
 butcher of Toledo; he justly passed for the 
 roughest man in his district, and my mother 
 had a temper not a whit more gentle. They 
 whipped me in my infancy as though they were 
 vying with each other; every day I had a 
 thousand lashes from them. The slightest 
 fault was followed by the severest punish- 
 ments. It was in vain I begged for mercy with 
 tears in my eyes, and protested that I was 
 sorry for what I had done; they forgave 
 nothing ; and generally they beat me with- 
 out a cause. When my father flogged me, 
 my mother, as though he had not exerted him- 
 self sufficiently, came to his assistance, instead 
 of interceding for me. This treatment inspired 
 
 * Corregidor, literally a corrector, was the chief magistrate in a 
 large Spanish city. See page 18.
 
 GIL BLAS. 33 
 
 me with such a distaste for my home that I 
 quitted it before I had reached iny fourteenth 
 year. I took the road to Aragon, and begged 
 my way to Saragossa. I ingratiated myself 
 with some vagrants, who led a tolerably 
 pleasant life. They taught me to counterfeit 
 blindness, to appear maimed, to put artificial 
 ulcers on my legs, and the like. In the morn- 
 ing, like actors preparing to play a comedy, 
 we arranged the characters we should assume. 
 Each hastened to his post ; and in the even- 
 ing we came together again, and enjoyed 
 ourselves all night at the expense of those 
 who had taken pity on us during the day. 
 Nevertheless, I grew tired of these wretches, 
 and wishing to move with more gentleman- 
 like people, I entered into partnership with 
 some sharpers. They taught me several clever 
 tricks ; but we soon had to leave Saragossa, 
 through a disagreement with a magistrate who 
 had hitherto protected us.* Every one followed 
 his own devices. For my part, being minded 
 to take a bold course, I joined a company of 
 brave fellows who levied blackmail on travel- 
 lers ; and I liked their mode of life so well that 
 I have never wished to seek another from that 
 time forward. Thus, gentlemen, I am deeply 
 
 * The Countess d'Aulnoy's Relation du Voyage en Espagne says, 
 
 "The judges have not enough salary to live upon, which is the 
 
 cause that lawsuits are dragged on for a very long time, and that 
 
 bribery and corruption are much greater in Spain than in France." 
 
 I. c
 
 34 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 indebted to my parents for having treated me 
 so badly; for if they had brought me up a 
 little more gently, I should doubtless at this 
 moment have been a miserable butcher instead 
 of having the honour to be your lieutenant." 
 
 " Gentlemen," said next a young robber, 
 who was seated between the captain and the 
 lieutenant, " to speak without boasting, the 
 stories which we have heard are neither so 
 complicated nor so curious as mine ; I am sure 
 you will agree with me. I owe my existence 
 to a countrywoman who lived in the environs 
 of Seville. Three weeks after she had brought 
 me into the world, my mother, who was young, 
 comely, and had plenty of milk, received the 
 offer of a nurse-child. It was the child of a man 
 of noble rank, an only son, just born in Seville. 
 My mother gladly accepted the proposal, and 
 went to fetch the child. It was entrusted to 
 her care ; and she had no sooner brought it to 
 the village, when, fancying some resemblance 
 between it and myself, she conceived the idea 
 of making me pass for the nobleman's child, in 
 the hope that I might one day be grateful for 
 that good turn. My father, who was no more 
 scrupulous than peasants are in general, ap- 
 proved of the deceit ; so, after our swaddling- 
 clothes had been exchanged, the son of Don 
 Eodrigo de Herrera was sent under my name 
 to another nurse, and my mother suckled me 
 under his.
 
 GIL BLAS. 35 
 
 " In spite of all that can be said for instinct 
 and the power of blood, the parents of the 
 little nobleman were easily taken in by the 
 change. They had not the least suspicion of 
 the trick that had been played them, and up 
 to the age of seven I was continually in their 
 arms. As it was their intention to make me a 
 perfect gentleman, they gave me all kinds of 
 masters; but the cleverest sometimes have pupils 
 who do them little honour: I had little in- 
 clination for the lessons I had to learn, and still 
 less taste for the sciences they wished to teach 
 me. I greatly preferred to gamble with the 
 servants, with whom I used to consort at all 
 hours in the kitchens or in the stables. 
 Gambling, however, was not long my ruling 
 passion. I was not seventeen when I got 
 drunk every day. I set my cap, also, at all 
 the women in the house, attaching myself 
 especially to a kitchen-maid, who seemed to 
 me to be worth my best attention. She was a 
 fat, chubby wench, whose liveliness and plump- 
 ness pleased me greatly. I made love to her 
 with so little caution, that Don Rodrigo him- 
 self took notice of it. He sharply took me to 
 task, reproached me with the baseness of my 
 inclinations, and for fear the sight of the 
 beloved object might render his remonstrances 
 useless, he turned my princess out of doors. 
 
 " This step displeased me, and I determined to 
 be avenged. I stole the jewels of Don Rodrigo's
 
 36 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 wife, and the plunder was pretty considerable. 
 Then, going off to my Helen, who had taken 
 refuge with a laundress of her acquaintance, I 
 carried her off openly, so that no one might 
 fail to know it. I went still further : I took 
 her to her own country, and married her form- 
 ally, as much to spite the Herreras as to set 
 so fine an example to youths of good family. 
 Three months after this grand marriage, I 
 learned that Don Rodrigo was dead. This in- 
 telligence was not lost upon me : I betook my- 
 self instantly to Seville, to claim his property ; 
 but I found a change of circumstances. My 
 mother was no more, and she had been indis- 
 creet enough to confess all on her death-bed, 
 in the presence of the vicar of the village and 
 other trustworthy witnesses. The son of Don 
 Rodrigo was already occupying my place, or 
 rather his own, and he had just been recog- 
 nised, with all the more pleasure, because they 
 were dissatisfied with me; so that, having 
 nothing to expect from that quarter, and 
 having lost my taste for my stout wife, I 
 joined some gentlemen of the road, with whom 
 I began my expeditions." 
 
 The young robber having ended his story, 
 another related that he was the son of a shop- 
 keeper of Burgos ; that in his youth, urged by 
 an inconsiderate devotion, he had turned monk, 
 joined a very austere order, and had apostatised 
 a few years later. In short, the eight robbers 
 spoke each in their turn ; and when I had
 
 GIL BLAS. 37 
 
 heard them all, I was not surprised to see them 
 in each other's company. Then they changed 
 their conversation. They brought forward 
 various plans for the approaching campaign; 
 and after having settled their plan of operations, 
 they rose from the table and went to bed. They 
 lighted their candles, and retired to their rooms. 
 I followed Captain Rolando into his, where, as 
 I was helping him to undress, he said to me 
 gaily : " Well, Gil Bias, you see how we are 
 living. We are always enjoying ourselves; 
 neither hate nor envy intrudes amongst us ; we 
 never have the slightest disagreement ; we are 
 more united than monks. You will lead a 
 very agreeable life here, my lad, for I do not 
 think you are fool enough to grieve about living 
 with robbers. Why ! Is there any other species 
 of men in the world ? No, my friend, all men 
 like to take what belongs to others; it is a 
 general sentiment; the only difference lies in 
 the manner of practising it. Conquerors, for in- 
 stance, take the territories of their neighbours. 
 People of quality borrow and never repay. 
 Bankers, treasurers, stockbrokers, clerks, and 
 tradesmen of all kinds, great and small, are not 
 over scrupulous. As for men of law, I need not 
 speak of them ; everyone knows what they can 
 do. Yet we must confess that they are more 
 humane than we ; for we often deprive innocent 
 people of their lives, and they sometimes save 
 the lives of the guilty."
 
 38 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE ATTEMPT WHICH GIL BLAS MADE TO ESCAPE, 
 AND ITS RESULT. 
 
 AFTER the robber-captain had made this apology 
 for his profession, he went to bed, and I re- 
 turned to the hall, where I cleared the table, 
 and put everything in order. Then I went 
 into the kitchen, where Domingo (such was 
 the name of the old negro) and dame Leonarda 
 were at supper, and waiting for me. Though 
 I had no appetite, I sat down with them. I 
 could not eat, and as I seemed as downcast as 
 I had cause to be, this well-matched pair 
 set to work to console me ; which they did in 
 a way more calculated to drive me to despair 
 than to assuage my grief. " Why do you 
 take on so, child?" said the old woman, 
 " you ought rather to rejoice at being here. 
 You are young, and you seem simple; you 
 would soon have been ruined in the world. You 
 would certainly have met with libertines who 
 would have drawn you into all kinds of excesses, 
 whilst here your innocence is in a safe haven." 
 " Dame Leonarda is right," said the old negro, 
 gravely, "and consider, moreover, that there 
 are nothing but troubles in the world. Thank 
 Heaven, my friend, for having delivered you all
 
 GIL BLAS. 39 
 
 at once from the perils, the difficulties, and the 
 miseries of life." 
 
 I bore this talk quietly, because it would 
 have availed me nothing to get angry. Indeed, 
 I am sure that if I had put myself in a rage I 
 should have made them laugh at my expense. 
 At length, Domingo, after having eaten and 
 drunk freely, retired to the stable. Leonarda 
 presently took a lamp, and led me to a vault 
 which served as a cemetery for the robbers who 
 died a natural death, and in which I saw a 
 pallet looking more like a grave than a bed. 
 " Here is your room, my chick," said she, 
 gently stroking my chin with her hand; "the 
 lad whose place you have the happiness of 
 occupying slept there as long as he was amongst 
 us, and there he lies now he is dead. He went 
 off in the flower of his age ; do not be so silly 
 as to follow his example." Whilst saying these 
 words, she gave me the lamp and returned to 
 her kitchen. I set the lamp on the ground 
 and threw myself on the pallet, not so much to 
 rest as to give myself up to reflection. " 
 Heaven ! " I exclaimed, " was there ever fate so 
 frightful as mine ? I am to bid farewell to the 
 light of day; and as if it were not enough 
 to be buried alive at the age of eighteen, I 
 must also serve robbers, spend my days 
 with highwaymen and my nights with the 
 dead ! " These thoughts, which seemed to me 
 very dismal, as in fact they were, caused me to
 
 40 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 weep bitterly. I cursed a hundred times my 
 uncle's plan of sending me to Salamanca, I 
 repented of having been in terror of the law 
 at Cacabelos, I wished I had submitted to 
 torture; but, considering that I was exhausting 
 myself with complaints to no purpose, I began 
 to think of some means by which I could 
 escape, and I said to myself: "Is it really 
 impossible to get out of this ? The robbers are 
 slumbering, the cook and the negro will soon 
 be the same : whilst they are all snoring can 
 I not, with this lamp, discover the passage 
 through which I came down into this infernal 
 abode? True, I do not think I am strong 
 enough to lift the trap -door at the en- 
 trance. However, I'll try ; I will have nothing 
 to reproach myself with. My despair will 
 lend me strength, and who knows but I may 
 succeed ? " 
 
 Thus I formed this great resolution. I got up 
 as soon as I judged that Leonarda and Domingo 
 were at rest. I took the lamp and stole out 
 of the vault, recommending myself to all the 
 saints in Heaven. It was not without difficulty 
 that I threaded my way through the windings 
 of this new labyrinth. Nevertheless, I got to 
 the door of the stable, and at length perceived 
 the passage I was looking for. I walked on, I 
 advanced towards the trap-door, with mingled 
 joy and fear ; but, alas ! half-way up the 
 passage I came across a cursed iron grating,
 
 GIL BLAS. 41 
 
 close shut, with bars so close together that I 
 could hardly get my hand through. I was 
 quite confounded at the sight of this fresh 
 obstacle, which I had not perceived on entering, 
 because the grating was then open. Still I did 
 not fail to feel the bars. Then I took a peep at 
 the lock, and even tried to force it ; when all on 
 a sudden I felt across my shoulders five or six 
 blows from a heavy lash, vigorously laid on. 
 I cried out so lustily that the cavern rang with 
 the sound; and looking immediately behind 
 me, I saw the old negro in his shirt, holding a 
 dark lantern in one hand, and the instrument of 
 my punishment in the other. " Ah, ah !" said 
 he, " you little rascal ; you want to escape ! 
 Oh, do not think you can catch me napping ; 
 I heard you well enough. You thought you 
 would find the grating open, did you not? 
 Take it for granted, my friend, that you will 
 henceforth always find it shut. When we 
 keep any one here in spite of himself, he 
 must be much cleverer than you are to escape 
 
 us." 
 
 Meanwhile, two or three robbers woke with 
 a start at the howl I had set up, and not 
 knowing but that the Holy Brotherhood might 
 be falling upon them, they arose and called 
 loudly on their comrades. In an instant all 
 were on their feet. They seized their swords 
 and carbines, and rushed almost without any 
 clothes on to the spot where I and Domingo
 
 42 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 were. But as soon as they learned the cause 
 of the noise they had heard, their anxiety 
 changed into bursts of laughter. " How now, 
 Gil Bias," said the apostate monk, " you have 
 been with us only six hours, and you wish to 
 take leave of us already? You must have a 
 great aversion to retirement. Ah, what would 
 you do if you were a Carthusian friar ? Go to 
 bed. You shall get off this time with the stripes 
 that Domingo has given you ; but if you ever 
 try to escape again, by Saint Bartholomew, we 
 will flay you alive." With these words he de- 
 parted ; and the other robbers also went to 
 their rooms, laughing heartily at the attempt 
 I had made to give them the slip. The old 
 negro, well pleased with his adventure, returned 
 to his stable; and I went back to my cemetery, 
 where I spent the remainder of the night weep- 
 ing and wailing. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 WHAT GIL BLAS DID WHEN HE COULD DO 
 NOTHING BETTER. 
 
 FOR the first few days I thought I should 
 succumb to the grief which consumed me, I 
 simply dragged on a lingering existence; but at 
 last my good genius inspired me with the idea
 
 GIL BLAS. 43 
 
 of dissimulating. I pretended to be less sad ; 
 I began to laugh and sing, though I bad no 
 mind to it ; in a word, I concealed my feelings 
 so well that Leonarda and Domingo were de- 
 ceived. They thought the bird had become 
 accustomed to its cage. The robbers imagined 
 the same thing. I assumed a lively manner in 
 pouring out their drink, and joined in their 
 conversation when I had an opportunity of 
 slipping in a joke. My freedom, far from dis- 
 pleasing, amused them. " Friend Gil Bias," 
 said the captain to me one night when I was 
 playing the jester, " you are right in banishing 
 melancholy ; I am delighted with your disposi- 
 tion arid intelligence. One does not know men 
 all at once ; I had no idea you were so witty 
 and so cheerful." 
 
 The others also praised me highly, and 
 exhorted me to persist in the generous feeling 
 I displayed towards them. In short, they 
 seemed so well pleased with me that, profiting 
 by so good an opportunity, I said, "Gentlemen, 
 permit me to tell you the innermost feelings of 
 my mind. Since I have been living here I feel 
 myself a different man from what I was before. 
 You have cured me of the prejudices of my 
 education ; I have gradually acquired your ideas; 
 I have a taste for your profession ; and have a 
 very great desire of being honoured by becoming 
 one of your companions, and of sharing with 
 you the perils of your expeditions." The whole
 
 44 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 company applauded this speech. They praised 
 my good intentions; then it was unanimously 
 resolved that I should have to wait on them for 
 some time longer, to see if I persisted in my 
 vocation ; that afterwards they would carry me 
 with them in their excursions ; * that finally 
 they would give me the honourable position I 
 asked, which, they said, they could not refuse 
 to a young fellow who seemed so well minded 
 as myself. 
 
 I was therefore obliged to continue my dis- 
 simulation, and to pursue my occupation of 
 cup-bearer. I was greatly mortified, for I 
 aspired to become a robber only to have the 
 freedom of going out like the rest of them, in 
 the hope that during an expedition I should 
 some day have a chance of escaping. This 
 hope alone kept me alive. The delay, how- 
 ever, appeared to me long, and I tried more 
 than once to elude the vigilance of Domingo ; 
 but there was no chance : he was too much 
 on his guard : I would have defied a hundred 
 men like Orpheus to charm this Cerberus. It 
 is true, moreover, that, from fear of exciting 
 suspicion, I did not do all that I might have 
 done to deceive him. He watched me, and I 
 was obliged to act with much circumspection 
 to avoid betraying myself. I looked forward, 
 
 * The original has on me ferait faire mes caravanes, they would 
 let me make my caravans. Caravanes was the name given to the 
 maritime expeditions which the Knights of Malta had to undertake 
 before becoming dignitaries of their order.
 
 GIL BLAS. 45 
 
 therefore, to the day the robbers had fixed for 
 receiving me into their band, with as much 
 impatience as if I had been about to enter a 
 company of farmers of the revenue.* 
 
 Heaven be praised ! six months later the 
 time came. One night Captain Rolando said to 
 his men : " Gentlemen, we must keep our word 
 with Gil Bias. I have no bad opinion of that 
 young fellow ; he seems to me made to walk 
 in our steps; I think we shall make something 
 of him. I am of opinion that to-morrow we 
 ought to take him with us to gather laurels 
 on the high-road. Let us make it our business 
 to train him to glory." The robbers were all 
 of the same mind with their captain ; and, in 
 order to let me see that they already regarded 
 me as one of them, from that moment they 
 dispensed with my attendance on them. They 
 reinstated dame Leonarda in the office which 
 they had transferred from her to me. They 
 made me change my dress, which consisted 
 simply of a short, thread-bare cassock, and 
 dressed me up in the spoils of a gentleman 
 recently robbed. After that I made ready for 
 my first campaign. 
 
 * In French traitants, a name given, up to the end of the 
 eighteenth century, to all persons connected with the collecting of 
 the taxes or with the lending of money to the State. They were 
 called traitants because they had made a treaty, traiU, with the 
 Government regarding the conditions upon which they were to 
 collect the taxes.
 
 46 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 GIL BLAS ACCOMPANIES THE ROBBERS ; HIS 
 EXPLOIT ON THE HIGH-ROAD. 
 
 IT was towards the close of a September night 
 that I quitted the underground cavern with the 
 robbers. Like them, I was armed with a car- 
 bine, a pair of pistols, a sword, and a bayonet, 
 and I was mounted on a pretty good horse, 
 which had been taken from the same gentle- 
 man whose clothes I wore. I had been living 
 in the dark so long that day-break dazzled 
 me ; but little by little my eyes became accus- 
 tomed to the light. 
 
 We passed by Pontferrada, and placed our- 
 selves in ambush in a small wood skirting 
 the high-road to Leon, where, without being 
 seen, we could see all who passed by. There 
 we were waiting until fortune should give us a 
 good chance, when we perceived a Dominican 
 friar, mounted, contrary to the custom of these 
 good fathers, on a sorry mule. " Heaven be 
 praised!" cried the captain, laughing; "here 
 is a capital beginning for Gil Bias. He must 
 go and bid this monk stand and deliver; let 
 us see how he will set about it." All the robbers 
 decided this was the very thing that would 
 suit me, and they exhorted me to acquit
 
 GIL BLAS. 47 
 
 myself handsomely. " Gentlemen," said I, 
 "you shall be satisfied. I will go and strip 
 that priest as bare as my hand, and bring you 
 his mule." " Nay, nay," said Kolando; "the 
 beast is not worth the trouble : only bring us his 
 reverence's purse ; that is all we ask of you." 
 " I go then," I replied, " under the eyes of my 
 masters, to make my first attempt; I hope 
 they will honour me with their commendations." 
 Thereupon I sallied from the wood, and ad- 
 vanced towards the monk, praying Heaven to 
 pardon the action I was about to perform; 
 for I had not been long enough with these 
 highwaymen to behave thus without reluctance. 
 I would gladly have made my escape at that 
 moment ; but most of the robbers were better 
 mounted than I. If they had seen me take to 
 flight they would have been at my heels, and 
 would soon have caught me again ; or perhaps 
 they would have discharged their carbines at 
 me, and I should have fared ill. I therefore 
 dared not attempt such a ticklish business. I 
 came up with the priest, and demanded his 
 purse, pointing my pistol at him. He stopped 
 short to look at me, and without seeming- 
 much afraid. "My child," said he, "you are 
 very young ; you are taking early to a villain- 
 ous trade." " Father," 1 replied, "villainous as 
 it is, I wish I had begun it sooner." " What ! 
 my son," replied the good monk, who did not 
 understand the real meaning of my words,
 
 48 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 "what are you saying? What blindness! 
 Give me leave to place before your eyes the 
 unhappy condition . . . ." " Come, come 
 father!" I. hastily interrupted him, "a truce 
 to your morality, I beseech you : I do not take 
 to the high-road to listen to sermons. These 
 are now out of the question ; you must give me 
 hard cash. I want money." " Money ! " said 
 he, with an air of astonishment ; " you judge 
 amiss of the charity of Spaniards if you think 
 people of my stamp need money to travel in 
 Spain. Let me undeceive you. We receive a 
 hearty welcome wherever we go ; and we are 
 lodged and boarded by people who only require 
 our prayers in return. In short, we carry no 
 money about us on the road. We trust to 
 Providence." " No, no," I rejoined, " you do 
 not trust to that ; you always have some pistoles 
 about you to make more sure of Providence. 
 Come, father," added I, " let us make an end 
 of this ; my comrades, who are in yonder wood, 
 are getting impatient. Throw your purse on 
 the ground without more ado, or I shall cer- 
 tainly kill you." 
 
 At these words, which I uttered with a 
 menacing look, the monk seemed to be afraid 
 for his life. " Wait," said he, " I will satisfy 
 you then, since I must. I can easily see that 
 with men like you, figures of speech are of no 
 avail." As he said this he drew from under his 
 gown a large purse of chamois leather, and
 
 GIL BLAS. 49 
 
 threw it on the ground. Then I told him he 
 might continue his journey, and he did not 
 give me the trouble of repeating it. He stuck 
 his heels into his mule, which, belying the 
 opinion I had of it, for I thought it no 
 better than my uncle's, all of a sudden set off 
 at a pretty good pace. As soon as the monk 
 was at a distance I dismounted. I picked up 
 the purse, which seemed to me a heavy one. I 
 mounted again and quickly regained the wood, 
 where the robbers were eagerly waiting to con- 
 gratulate me, just as though the victory I had 
 gained had cost me dear. They hardly gave 
 me time to get off my horse, so anxious were 
 they to embrace me. " Courage, Gil Bias," 
 said Rolando, " you have done wonders ! I 
 have kept my eyes on you during your perform- 
 ance, and observed your countenance ; I predict 
 that in time you will become an excellent high- 
 wayman, or I do not know anything about 
 it." The lieutenant and the rest applauded 
 this prophecy, and assured me that I should 
 not fail to fulfil it. I thanked them for the 
 high opinion they had formed of me, and 
 promised to do my very best to retain it. 
 
 After they had praised me more than I 
 deserved, they took it into their heads to 
 examine the booty I had brought in. " Let 
 us see," they said, " how this monk's purse is 
 lined." " It ought to be well filled," said one, 
 " for these good fathers do not move about
 
 50 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 like pilgrims." The captain untied the purse, 
 opened it, and drew out two or three handfuls 
 of little copper medals, with an Agnus Dei or 
 two, and a few scapularies.* At the sight 
 of such a novel prize all the robbers burst 
 out laughing. "Upon my soul," cried the 
 lieutenant, " we are much obliged to Gil Bias : 
 he has broken ground with a theft very season- 
 able to our company." This joke led to others. 
 These miscreants, and especially the apostate 
 monk, began to make very merry over the 
 business. 
 
 They uttered a thousand sallies which I 
 cannot repeat, and which plainly denoted the 
 profligacy of their morals. I was the only one 
 who did not laugh. It is true I did not feel 
 inclined to laugh because they amused them- 
 selves at my expense. Everyone cracked his 
 joke, and the captain said: "Upon my word 
 Gil Bias, 1 advise you, as a friend, to have 
 nothing more to say to monks, for they are too 
 clever and knowing for you." 
 
 * An Agnus Dei is a cake of wax or dough, on which is stamped a 
 lamb supporting the banner of the cross, and which is supposed to 
 be a talisman against accidents or temptations. A scapulary is a 
 part of the habit of certain religious orders in the Roman Catholic 
 Church, consisting of two bands of woollen stuif worn over the 
 gown, of which the one crosses the back or shoulders, and the other 
 the stomach. Sometimes a piece of these bands was even called a 
 scapulary.
 
 GIL BLAS. 51 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE SERIOUS INCIDENT WHICH FOLLOWED THIS 
 
 ADVENTURE. 
 
 * 
 
 WE remained in the wood for the greater part 
 of the day without perceiving any traveller 
 who might make amends for the monk. At 
 last we were coming out in order to return to 
 our cavern, thinking that this ludicrous event, 
 which still formed the subject of our conversa- 
 tion, was to be the end of our exploits, when 
 we perceived afar off a carriage drawn by four 
 mules. It came up to us at full trot, and was 
 attended by three men on horseback, who 
 seemed to be well armed and prepared to 
 encounter us, if we were bold enough to assail 
 them. Rolando made the troop halt, and 
 hold a counsel ; and the result was that we 
 were to attack. He at once drew us up as 
 he thought fit, and we advanced towards the 
 carriage in order of battle. In spite of the 
 applause I had received in the wood, I trembled 
 violently, and presently a cold sweat broke out 
 all over my body, which augured no good. To 
 add to my happiness I was in the van of the 
 line, between the captain and the lieutenant, who 
 had placed me there to accustom me to stand 
 fire, without loss of time. Rolando, observing 
 how much nature suffered within me, cast a
 
 52 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 side look upon me, and said in a resolute voice: 
 " Hark ye ! Gil Bias, mind you do your duty ; 
 I warn you that if you turn tail, I shall blow 
 vour brains out." I was too much convinced 
 
 / 
 
 that he would do as he said, to neglect the 
 warning ; so I thought only of commending 
 my soul to God, since I had no less to fear 
 from one side than from the other. 
 
 Meanwhile the carriage and the horsemen 
 drew near. They suspected what sort of men 
 we were ; and guessing our intention from our 
 appearance, stopped within musket-shot. They 
 had carbines and pistols as well as ourselves, 
 and whilst they prepared to face us, there came 
 out of the carriage a gentleman of handsome 
 appearance, richly dressed. He got upon a 
 spare horse, which one of the attendants held 
 by the bridle, and put himself at the head of 
 his party, though he had only a sword and a 
 pair of pistols. They were four against nine, 
 for the coachman remained on his seat, yet 
 they advanced towards us with a boldness 
 which redoubled my terror. Nevertheless I 
 did not fail, though I trembled in every limb, 
 to hold myself in readiness to shoot ; but, to 
 tell the truth, I shut my eyes, and turned my 
 head aside as I pulled the trigger; so that, 
 from the way I did fire, I do not think I need 
 have that shot upon my conscience. 
 
 I will not give the details of this action, for 
 though I was present I saw nothing of it ; and
 
 GIL BLAS. 53 
 
 my fear, whilst it disturbed my imagination, 
 concealed from me the horror of the very sight 
 which terrified me. All I know is, that after a 
 great noise of firing, I heard my comrades 
 shout "Victory! victory!' 1 At this exclama- 
 tion, the terror which had seized upon me 
 passed away, and I beheld the four horsemen 
 stretched lifeless on the field of battle. On our 
 side we had but one man killed ; it was the 
 apostate monk, who on this occasion had only 
 what he deserved for his apostasy, and for his 
 vile jests about the scapularies. One of our 
 men had a ball in the right knee-cap, whilst 
 the lieutenant was also wounded, but very 
 slightly, the bullet having only grazed his skin. 
 Senor Kolando ran at once to the door of 
 the carriage. Within there was a lady from 
 four to five-and-twenty, who struck him as 
 very lovely, in spite of her sad condition. 
 She had swooned during the conflict, and 
 had not yet recovered. Whilst he was 
 looking at her, the rest of us took care of 
 the plunder. We began by securing the dead 
 men's horses, for these animals, terrified by 
 the noise of the firing, had got some distance 
 away after having lost their masters. As 
 for the mules they had not stirred, though 
 during the conflict the coachman had jumped 
 off his seat and escaped. We dismounted to 
 unharness them, and loaded them with several 
 trunks which we found strapped before and
 
 54 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 behind the carriage. This done, by the 
 captain's orders we took the lady, who had 
 not yet recovered her senses, and placed her 
 on horseback before one of the strongest and 
 best mounted of the company ; then, leaving 
 the carriage and the dead men, whom we had 
 stripped, on the highway, we carried off the 
 lady, the mules, and the horses. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 HOW THE ROBBERS BEHAVED TO THE LADY. THE 
 GRAND DESIGN WHICH GIL BLAS CONCEIVED, 
 AND ITS RESULT. 
 
 ABOVE one hour after dark we reached the 
 cavern. We first led the horses to the stable, 
 where we were obliged to tie them up to the 
 manger ourselves, and to attend to them, 
 because the old negro had been in bed for 
 three days with a violent attack of gout, 
 whilst rheumatism had settled in all his 
 limbs. He had only his tongue at liberty, and 
 he expressed his impatience by horrible blas- 
 phemies. We left the wretch to swear and 
 blaspheme, and went into the kitchen, where 
 our attention was engrossed by the lady, who 
 seemed to be sinking into the arms of death. 
 We spared no means of restoring her to con-
 
 GIL BLAS. 55 
 
 sciousness, and at last we had the happiness of 
 succeeding. But when she had regained her 
 senses, and saw that she was in the hands of a 
 number of strange men, she realised the extent 
 of her misfortune and trembled. All the horror, 
 grief and despair combined can express was de- 
 picted in her eyes, which she raised to Heaven 
 as though to complain of the indignities which 
 menaced her, and then, suddenly giving way 
 before these terrible apprehensions, she fainted 
 again, her eyes closed, and the robbers thought 
 that death was about to snatch their prey from 
 them. Thereupon the captain, thinking it 
 better to leave her to herself than to torment 
 her with any more of their assistance, had her 
 carried to Leonarda's bed, where she was left 
 alone to let nature take her course. 
 
 We went into the hall, where one of the 
 robbers who had been a surgeon attended to 
 the wounds of the lieutenant and of the other 
 brigand, and rubbed them with some ointment. 
 After this, we were anxious to see what the 
 trunks contained. Some were full of lace and 
 linen, others of clothes, but the last we opened 
 contained several bags of pistoles, which greatly 
 rejoiced the gentlemen concerned. After this 
 examination the cook set out the sideboard, 
 laid the cloth, and served up supper. We con- 
 versed at first about the great victory we had 
 gained. Whereupon Rolando, addressing me, 
 said : " Confess, Gil Bias, confess, my lad, that
 
 56 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 you were terribly afraid." I candidly admitted 
 the fact, but promised to fight like a paladin 
 after having been through two or three cam- 
 paigns. Thereupon all the company took my 
 part, saying that excuses ought to be made 
 for me, for the action had been very hot, and 
 that I had not behaved badly for a young fellow 
 who had never been accustomed to the smell 
 of gunpowder. 
 
 The conversation then turned upon the 
 mules and horses which we had just brought 
 to the cavern. It was decided that on the 
 morrow, before day-break, we should all go 
 and sell them at Mansilla, where probably a 
 report of our expedition would not yet have 
 arrived. This resolution being taken we 
 finished our supper, and then returned to the 
 kitchen to see the lady, whom we still found 
 in the same condition. We thought that she 
 would not live through the night. Neverthe- 
 less, though there seemed hardly any signs of 
 life in her, some of the robbers did not fail to 
 cast an evil eye upon her. and to betray their 
 lustful desires, which they would have satisfied, 
 had not Rolando prevented it by telling them 
 they at least should wait until the lady had 
 recovered from the overwhelming grief which 
 deprived her of every feeling. Their respect 
 for the captain restrained them ; nothing else 
 could have saved the lady ; death itself would 
 probably not have protected her honour.
 
 GIL BLAS. 57 
 
 Once more we left the unfortunate lady 
 in the same condition in which we found her. 
 Rolando simply commanded Leonarda to look 
 after her, and each retired to his own room. 
 For my part, when I was in bed, instead of 
 going to sleep I thought only of the lady's 
 misfortune. I made ho doubt she was a lady 
 of rank, and considered her fate all the more 
 deplorable. I could not picture without shud- 
 dering the horrors which awaited her, and 
 I was as much moved by this as if united 
 to her by the ties of blood or friendship. At 
 last, after having sufficiently bewailed her 
 destiny, I began to consider some means of 
 preserving her honour from the danger by 
 which it was threatened, and, at the same 
 time, of getting myself out of the cavern. I 
 recollected that the old negro could not move, 
 and that, since his illness, the cook had the 
 key of the grating. This thought stimulated 
 my imagination, and made me conceive a plan 
 over which I pondered well. Next I began to 
 put it into practice in the following manner. 
 
 I pretended to have pains in the stomach, 
 and began to complain and to groan ; and then, 
 raising my voice, I uttered loud cries. The 
 robbers awoke, were soon by my side, and 
 asked me what made me cry out so. I replied 
 that I had horrible pains in the stomach, and 
 the better to persuade them of the fact I began 
 to grind my teeth, to make all manner of fright-
 
 58 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ful grimaces and contortions, and to throw 
 myself about in a strange fashion. Then I 
 suddenly grew quiet, as though my pains had 
 given me a respite*; a moment afterwards I 
 again jumped about on my pallet and threw 
 about my arms. In a word, I played my part 
 so well that the robbers, cunning as they were, 
 allowed themselves to be deceived, and really 
 thought that I was suffering violent pangs. 
 But I acted so well that they annoyed me in a 
 provoking way ; for as soon as my charitable 
 comrades believed that I was suffering, they 
 one and all set to work to give me ease. One 
 brought me a bottle of brandy and made me 
 swallow half of it ; another, in spite of myself, 
 gave me an injection of oil of sweet almonds ; 
 another went and warmed a napkin, and clapped 
 it burning hot upon my stomach. 'Twas in 
 vain I cried for mercy, they set down my cries 
 to the pains in the stomach, and continued to 
 make me suffer veritable torments, by wishing 
 to rid me of those I had not. At last, unable to 
 resist any longer, I was obliged to tell them that 
 I felt no more pain, and begged them to spare 
 me. They ceased to torment me with their 
 remedies, and I took care not to complain any 
 more, for fear of again experiencing their aid. 
 
 This scene lasted nearly three hours; after 
 which the robbers, considering that daylight 
 was not far off, prepared to depart for Man- 
 silla. I then played a new trick ; I wanted
 
 GIL BLAS. 59 
 
 to get up, to make them think I was anxious 
 to accompany them, but they would not allow 
 it. " No, no, Gil Bias," said Rolando, " stay 
 here, my boy; your pains might come on again; 
 you shall come with us another time, but 
 to-day you are not fit to go with us ; rest all 
 day; you need quiet." I thought I had better 
 not insist too much for fear they should yield 
 to my entreaties ; but I looked quite annoyed 
 at being unable to make one of the party ; 
 and I did this in so natural a manner that 
 they all left the cavern without the least sus- 
 picion of my design. After their departure, 
 which I endeavoured to hasten by my prayers, 
 I said to myself: "Now, Gil Bias, now is 
 the time to be resolved. Arm yourself with 
 courage to complete what you have so 
 happily begun. The affair seems to be easy. 
 Domingo is not in a state to oppose your 
 undertaking, and Leonarda cannot prevent you 
 from carrying it out. Seize this opportunity 
 of escaping; probably you will never find a 
 more favourable one." These reflections in- 
 spired me with confidence. I got up, took 
 my sword and my pistols, and went first of all 
 to the kitchen ; but before entering, as I heard 
 Leonarda speaking, I stopped to listen. She 
 was talking to the unknown lady, who had 
 regained consciousness, and who, as she thought 
 of all her misfortunes, was then weeping and 
 in despair. " Weep, my child," said the old
 
 60 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 woman, " give way to your tears, and do not 
 spare sighs, it will comfort you. The sudden 
 shock was too much for you, but there is no 
 danger more, for you are crying. Your grief 
 will abate by degrees, and you will grow accus- 
 tomed to the society of our gentlemen, who are 
 men of honour. You will be better treated 
 than a princess; they will be excessively polite 
 to you, and every day show you some marks of 
 affection. Many a woman would like to be in 
 your place." 
 
 I did not give Leonarda time to say any- 
 thing more. I went in, and putting a pistol to 
 her breast, commanded her, in a threatening 
 manner, to give me the key of the grating. 
 She was astounded by my act; and, though 
 well-advanced in years, she felt sufficiently 
 attached to life not to venture on a refusal. 
 When I had the key in my hands, I addressed 
 the distressed lady. "Madam," I said, "Heaven 
 has sent you a deliverer ; arise and follow 
 me ; I will conduct you wherever you please." 
 The lady was not deaf to my proposal, and my 
 words impressed her so much, that, summoning 
 all her remaining strength, she rose, threw her- 
 self at my feet, and beseeched me to save her 
 honour. I raised her, and assured her that she 
 might rely on me. Then I took a rope which 
 I found in the kitchen, and with her assistance, 
 bound Leonarda to the legs of a large table, 
 declaring that I would kill her if she uttered 
 the slightest cry. The kind-hearted Leonarda,
 
 GIL BLAS. 61 
 
 persuaded that I would not fail to do so if she 
 dared to resist me, thought fit to let me do 
 whatever I liked. I lighted a candle, and 
 went with the unknown to the room where 
 the gold and silver coins were. I put in my 
 pockets as many pistoles and double pistoles as 
 they could hold ; and, to encourage the lady to 
 take away some too, I told her that she was only 
 taking back her own, which "she then did with- 
 out scruple. When we had supplied ourselves 
 well, we went towards the stable, which I 
 entered alone, with my pistols cocked. I 
 made sure that the old negro, in spite of his 
 gout and rheumatism, would riot quietly let 
 me saddle and bridle my horse, and I was fully 
 determined to give him a radical cure for all 
 his ills if he should take it into his head to be 
 troublesome. But, fortunately, he was at that 
 time so overcome by the pains he had suffered, 
 and by those which he suffered still, that I took 
 my horse out of the stable without his even 
 seeming to notice it. The lady awaited me at 
 the door ; and we were not long in thread- 
 ing the passage which led out of the cavern. 
 Arrived at the grating, we opened it, and 
 came at last to the trap-door. We had great 
 difficulty in raising it ; or, rather, to effect our 
 purpose, we needed the additional force lent 
 us by our desire to escape. 
 
 The day was just dawning when we emerged 
 from that abyss. Our first object was to get as
 
 62 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 tar from it its possible. I leaped into the 
 saddle, the lady got up behind me, and 
 taking, at a gallop, the first road which 
 offered itself, we were soon out of the forest. 
 We came upon a plain intersected by several 
 roads, one of which we took at random. I 
 was half dead with fear lest it should lead to 
 Mansilla, where we might meet Rolando and 
 his comrades. This might easily have hap- 
 pened, but, fortunately, my fear was groundless. 
 We reached the town of Astorga about two 
 o'clock in the afternoon. I saw that the 
 people watched us very closely, as though they 
 had never seen a lady riding behind a gentle- 
 man. We dismounted at the first inn we 
 came to, and I immediately ordered a partridge 
 and a young rabbit to be put to the spit. 
 Whilst they were carrying out my directions, 
 and preparing our dinner, I led the lady to a 
 room, where we began to converse, which we 
 could not do on the road, because we had 
 ridden so fast. She told me how grateful she 
 was for the service I had just rendered her, 
 and declared that, after so generous an act, 
 she could not believe I was one of the srano- 
 
 o o 
 
 of brigands from whom I had rescued her. 
 I told her my story, to confirm her in the 
 good opinion she had formed of me, and so 
 induced her to confide in me, and to tell me 
 of her misfortunes, which she recounted in 
 the words of the chapter following.
 
 GIL BLAS. 63 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 THE HISTORY OF DONNA MEXCIA DE MOSQUERA. 
 
 I WAS born at Valladolid, and my name is 
 Donna Mencia de Mosquera. Don Martin, my 
 father, after having spent almost the whole of 
 his patrimony in active service, was slain in 
 Portugal, at the head of his regiment. He 
 left me so little property that I was not a very 
 eligible match, though an only daughter. Yet 
 I had no lack of admirers, in spite of the 
 mediocrity of my fortune. Several of the 
 noblest cavaliers in Spain sought me in mar- 
 riage, but my favourite was Don Alvaro de 
 Mello. He was indeed handsomer than his 
 rivals ; but more solid qualities determined me 
 in his favour. He had intelligence, discretion, 
 valour, and probity ; and was, besides, a leader 
 of society. If he gave an entertainment, it 
 could not be done in better taste; and if he 
 appeared in the lists, his vigour and skill were 
 always admired. I therefore preferred him to 
 all others, and I married him. 
 
 A few days after our wedding he met in 
 a secluded spot, Don Andrea de Baesa,* who 
 had been one of his rivals. They quarrelled 
 with each other, and drew their swords. It 
 
 * This should he " Baeza," according to M. Llorente.
 
 64 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 cost Don Andrea his life. As he was nephew 
 to the Corregidor of Valladolid, a violent man 
 and a mortal enemy to the house of Mello, 
 Don Alvaro thought he could not soon enough 
 leave the town. He returned home speedily, 
 and, while they were saddling his horse, he 
 told me what had just taken place. " My dear 
 Mencia," he said, " we must separate. You 
 know the Corregidor. Let us not deceive our- 
 selves ; he will pursue me with the utmost 
 rancour. You know what his influence is ; I 
 shall not be safe within the kingdom." He 
 was so overwhelmed with his grief, and still 
 more by the sorrow he saw I felt, that he could 
 say no more. I made him take some gold 
 and precious stones ; then lie clasped me in 
 his arms, and for a quarter of an hour we 
 did nothing but mingle our sighs and tears. 
 At length they told him his horse was at the 
 door. He tore himself away, and left me in 
 a condition not to be described. How happy 
 should I have been if excess of grief had 
 killed me then ! A few hours after Don 
 Alvaro had gone, the corregidor heard of his 
 flight. He made all the alguazils* of Valla- 
 dolid pursue him, and spared no pains to get 
 him into his power. My husband, however, 
 disappointed his vengeance, and was able to 
 t 
 
 * An alguazil is an officer \vho executes the orders of the 
 corregidor. A species of large spider is termed in Spain dlguaail 
 de moscas, the alguazil of the flies.
 
 GIL BLAS. 65 
 
 escape to safe quarters ; so that the judge was 
 compelled to confine his revenge to the satis- 
 faction of taking the property of a man whose 
 blood he would like to have shed. For this 
 end he exerted his influence, and that not in 
 vain, for the entire fortune of Don Alvaro was 
 confiscated. 
 
 I remained in most distressing circum- 
 stances, and had hardly the means of subsist- 
 ence. I began to lead a retired life, with but 
 one female servant. I passed my days in be- 
 moaning, not poverty, which I could bear with 
 patience, but the absence of a beloved hus- 
 band, from whom I received no tidings. 
 
 Yet he had promised me, during our sad 
 moments of parting, to take care and keep me 
 informed of his condition, into whatever part 
 of the world his evil star might lead him. 
 Nevertheless, seven years passed away without 
 my hearing anything of him. The uncertainty 
 in which I was concerning his fate afflicted me 
 most deeply. At last I heard that, whilst 
 fighting for the King of Portugal, in the 
 kingdom of Fez, he had lost his life in battle. 
 A man recently returned from Africa brought 
 me this information, assuring me that he had 
 been well acquainted with Don Alvaro de 
 Mello, that he had served in the Portuguese 
 army with him, and that he had seen him fall in 
 action. He added other circumstances which 
 finally convinced me that my husband was no
 
 66 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 more. This news only served to increase my 
 grief, and to make me resolve never to marry 
 again. At that time Don Ambrosio Mesio 
 Carrillo,* Marquis de la Guardia, came to Valla- 
 dolid. He was one of these elderly noblemen 
 who, by the gallantry and politeness of their 
 manners, make people forget their age, and 
 still contrive to please the fair sex. One 
 day he happened to hear the story of Don 
 Alvaro, and, from the picture which was drawn 
 of me, he conceived a desire to see me. To 
 satisfy his curiosity, he gained over one of my 
 relatives, who, in concert with him, invited me 
 to her house. The marquis was one of the 
 party. He saw me, and 1 pleased him, in 
 spite of the impression which grief had left on 
 my countenance. But why do I say in spite of 
 it ? Perhaps he was touched simply by my sad 
 and languishing air, which prepossessed him 
 in favour of my fidelity? My melancholy may 
 have given rise to his love. For he told me 
 more than once that he regarded me as a 
 miracle of constancy, and even that he envied 
 the fate of my husband, however lamentable it 
 might be in other respects. In a word, he was 
 struck by my appearance, and had no need to 
 see me a second time to resolve upon offering 
 me his hand. 
 
 He employed the intervention of my kinswoman 
 to induce me to give my consent. She paid me 
 
 * See INTRODUCTION.
 
 GIL BLAS. 67 
 
 a visit and pointed out that my husband having 
 ended his days in Fez, as we had been informed, 
 it was not reasonable to bury my charms any 
 longer ; that I had sufficiently bewailed a man 
 with whom I had only been united for a few 
 days ; that I ought to profit by the oppor- 
 tunity which offered itself; and that I should 
 be the happiest woman in the world. She 
 then extolled the noble descent of the old 
 marquis, his large estates, and his unblemished 
 character; but it was in vain that she ex- 
 patiated upon all the advantages he possessed ; 
 she could not persuade me. I did not doubt 
 that Don Alvaro was dead, nor did the 
 fear of seeing him return suddenly when I 
 least expected it, restrain me. The slight in- 
 clination, or rather the repugnance with which 
 I regarded a second marriage, after the sad 
 issue of the first, was the only obstacle which 
 my relative had to remove. But she was not 
 disheartened ; on the contrary, her zeal for Don 
 Ambrosio redoubled, and she enlisted all my 
 family to forward the interests of the old lord. 
 My relatives urged me to accept so advan- 
 tageous an offer ; I was every moment beset, 
 importuned, tormented. It is true that my 
 wretchedness, which increased day by day, 
 contributed not a little to overcome my resist- 
 ance; nothing less than the terrible need I 
 was in contributed to decide me. 
 
 I could not hold out any longer, I yielded
 
 68 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to their urgent entreaties, and was wedded to 
 the Marquis cle la Guardia, who on the day after 
 our nuptials carried me to a very fine castle of 
 his near Burgos, between Grajal and Rodillas. 
 He conceived a violent love for me ; the 
 desire of pleasing me was visible in all his 
 actions ; he studied to anticipate my slightest 
 wishes. Never had a husband such an affec- 
 tionate regard for his wife, and never did a 
 lover shew more complaisance to his mistress. 
 I admired a man of so amiable a character ; 
 and I was partly consoled for the loss of Don 
 Alvaro by the happiness I conferred on a noble- 
 man like the marquis. I might have loved him 
 passionately in spite of the disparity of our ages 
 if I could have loved anyone after Don Alvaro. 
 But a constant heart can never have a second 
 passion. The remembrance of my first hus- 
 band rendered vain all the kind efforts of 
 the second to please me. I could repay his 
 tenderness only with pure feelings of gratitude. 
 I was in this condition of mind when, 
 breathing the fresh air at my window one day, 
 I perceived a man who seemed to be a peasant 
 in the garden looking attentively at me. I 
 thought he was the gardener's assistant, and 
 took little notice of him, but next day going 
 again to the window I saw him in the same spot, 
 and he seemed still bent on looking at me. 
 Struck with this circumstance, I looked at him 
 in my turn, and after gazing at him for some
 
 GIL BLAS. 69 
 
 time, I thought I could recognise the features of 
 the unhappy Don Alvaro. This resemblance 
 excited in me an emotion not to be conceived, 
 and I uttered a piercing scream. I was then 
 fortunately alone with Inez, who of all my 
 attendants enjoyed the greatest share of my 
 confidence. I told her of the surmise which 
 agitated my mind. She only laughed at it, 
 and fancied that a slight resemblance had 
 deceived my eyes. " Take courage, madam," 
 said she, " don't imagine that yon have seen 
 your first husband. Is it likely that he would 
 be here in the guise of a peasant ? Is it even 
 credible that he is still alive ? To set your mind 
 at rest I will go down into the garden," added 
 she, " and talk to this rustic; I shall find out 
 who he is, and return in a moment to let you 
 know." Inez accordingly went into the garden, 
 but soon returned to my room, greatly moved. 
 " Madam," she said, " your suspicion is but too 
 well founded. It is Don Alvaro himself whom 
 you have seen ; he made himself known at 
 once, and begs you to grant him a private 
 interview." 
 
 As I could receive Don Alvaro that very 
 moment, the marquis being at Burgos, I 
 ordered my maid to bring him to my room 
 by a private staircase. You may judge how 
 agitated I was. I could not endure the 
 sight of a man who had a right to over- 
 whelm me with reproaches ; and swooned as
 
 70 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 soon as he came into my presence. Inez 
 and he quickly flew to my assistance ; and 
 when I had recovered my senses, Don Alvaro 
 said, "Madam, I beg you to compose your- 
 self. Do not let my presence give you pain ; 
 I have no intention of causing you the 
 slightest anxiety. I do not come as an en- 
 raged husband to call you to an account for 
 your plighted troth, or to upbraid you with the 
 second engagement you have entered into ; I 
 am well aware that it was owing to the im- 
 portunity of your family ; I have been informed 
 of all their persecutions on that account. Be- 
 sides it was rumoured in Valladolid that I was 
 dead, and you had the more reason to believe 
 it as no letter from me gave you any assurance 
 to the contrary. I also know how you have 
 lived since our cruel separation, arid that 
 necessity, rather than love, threw you into the 
 marquis's arms." " Ah, sir," I interrupted 
 him, weeping, " why will you make excuses for 
 your wife ? She is guilty since you are alive. 
 Why am I not still in the wretched condition 
 I was in before I married Don Ambrosio ! O 
 fatal marriage ! Alas ! I should at least, in my 
 misery, have had the consolation of seeing you 
 again without blushing." 
 
 " My dear Mencia," replied Don Alvaro, in 
 a manner which betrayed how much he was 
 moved by my tears, "I do not complain of 
 you; and far from reproaching you with the
 
 GIL BLAS. 71 
 
 brilliant position in which I find you, I swear 
 that I thank Heaven for it. Since the sad day 
 of my departure from Valladolid, fate has 
 always been against me. My life has been 
 but a series of misfortunes ; and to crown my 
 woes, I had no means of communicating with 
 you. Too certain of your love, I w T as ever 
 picturing to myself the position to which my 
 fatal affection had reduced you. I fancied 
 Donna Mencia in tears; and this was the 
 greatest of my sorrows. Sometimes, I must 
 confess it, I reproached myself, as it were- a 
 crime, with the happiness of having pleased 
 you. I wished that you had felt an inclination 
 for one of my rivals, since the preference with 
 which you had honoured me was costing 
 you so dear. Yet after seven years of 
 suffering, more in love with you than ever, 
 I determined to see you once again. I could 
 not resist this desire ; and the expiration of a 
 long slavery having furnished me with the 
 power of indulging in it, I went to Valladolid 
 in this disguise, at the risk of being discovered. 
 There I learned all. Then I came to this 
 castle, and I found means of introducing my- 
 self to the gardener, who has engaged me as a 
 labourer. This is what I have done to obtain 
 a private interview with you. But do not 
 imagine that by my stay here I mean to 
 disturb the happiness you enjoy; I love you 
 more than myself; I shall not disturb your
 
 72 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 peace, and, after this interview, I shall go and 
 end, far from you, a life which has been so sad, 
 and which I offer up on your shrine." 
 
 " No, Don Alvaro, no ! " I exclaimed at these 
 words, " Heaven has not brought you here for 
 nothing, and I will not suffer you to leave me 
 a second time; I will go away with you ; 
 death alone shall part us henceforth." " Take 
 my advice," he replied, " remain with Don 
 Ambrosio. Do not link yourself with my mis- 
 fortunes, let me bear their whole weight." 
 He said many other things of the same kind; 
 but the more he seemed willing to sacrifice 
 himself to my happiness, the less I felt disposed 
 to consent to it. When he saw that I was 
 firmly resolved to follow him, he suddenly 
 changed his tone ; and assuming a more cheer- 
 ful air, he said : " Madam, is it possible that 
 you are of this mind? Ah, since you still love 
 me well enough to prefer my poverty to your 
 present prosperity, let us go hence and dwell at 
 Betancos, at the further end of Galicia.* I 
 have there a safe retreat. Though my misfor- 
 tunes have deprived me of my wealth, they 
 have not made me lose all my friends. I have 
 still some faithful ones, and they have provided 
 me with the means of carrying you off. With 
 their assistance I have had a carriage made at 
 Zamora ; I have bought mules and horses, and 
 
 For Betancos, as well as for Grayal and Eodillas, mentioned 
 before, see INTRODUCTION.
 
 GIL BLAS. 73 
 
 am accompanied by three determined Galicians. 
 They are armed with carbines and pistols, and 
 they await my orders at the village of Rodillas. 
 Let us avail ourselves of the absence of Don 
 Ambrosio," he continued. " I will send the 
 carriage to the castle gate, and we shall set out 
 instantly." I consented. Don Alvaro hast- 
 ened to Rodillas, and shortly returned with his 
 three attendants to carry me off from amidst 
 my waiting-women, who, not knowing what 
 to think of this abduction, took to their heels 
 in terror. Inez alone was in the secret; but 
 she refused to link her lot with mine, as she was 
 in love with a valet of Don Ambrosio's, which 
 shows that the attachment of the most faithful 
 servants is not proof against love. 
 
 I accordingly entered the carriage with Don 
 Alvaro, taking nothing with me but my clothes, 
 and a few jewels which I had before my second 
 marriage, for I would take nothing of what 
 the marquis had given me when I became 
 his wife. We travelled in the direction of 
 Galicia, uncertain whether we should be for- 
 tunate enough to get there. We were afraid 
 that Don Ambrosio on his return would pursue 
 us with a large number of men, and overtake 
 us. However, we travelled for two days without 
 seeing any horsemen on our track ; and we 
 were hoping that the third day would pass in 
 a similar manner, and were conversing very 
 quietly. Don Alvaro was relating to me the
 
 74 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 sad occurrence which had given rise to the 
 report of his death, and how, after having been 
 five years a slave, he recovered his liberty, 
 when yesterday we met on the road to Leon 
 the robbers in whose company you were. It 
 was he whom they killed with all his attend- 
 ants, and it is he for whom flow the tears which 
 you see me shedding at this moment." 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE UNPLEASANT MANNER IN WHICH GIL BLAS 
 AND THE LADY WERE INTERRUPTED. 
 
 DONNA MENCIA burst into tears as she ended 
 this narrative. Far from trying to console her 
 by speeches in the style of Seneca, I allowed 
 her to give free vent to her grief; I even wept 
 myself, so natural is it for one to become 
 interested for the unfortunate, and especially 
 for a lovely woman in distress ! I was about to 
 ask her what plan she thought of adopting 
 in her present circumstances, and it may be 
 she was going to consult me on that point, 
 when our conversation was interrupted by a 
 great noise in the inn, which in spite of our- 
 selves attracted our attention. This noise was 
 caused by the arrival of the corregidor, attended 
 by two alguazils and several guards. They
 
 GIL BLAS. 75 
 
 entered the room where we were. A young- 
 gentleman, who accompanied them, approached 
 me first, and began to examine my dress. He 
 did not need to look long. " By Saint lago," 
 he cried, " this is my doublet ! It is the very 
 thing, and as easy to recognise as my horse. 
 You can arrest this spark on my testimony ; I 
 am not afraid of the risk of having to give him 
 honourable satisfaction. I am certain he is 
 one of the gang who have an undiscovered 
 retreat in this district." 
 
 At this speech, from which I learned that my 
 accuser was the gentleman who had been robbed, 
 and whose spoils I unfortunately wore, I was 
 astounded, confused, dismayed. The cor- 
 regidor, whose office inclined him to draw a 
 bad inference from my embarrassment rather 
 than to explain it favourably, concluded that 
 the accusation was not ill-founded ; and pre- 
 suming that the lady might be an accomplice, 
 he ordered us to be thrown into prison and 
 kept separate. This magistrate was not one of 
 these who inspire terror by their looks ; he 
 appeared gentle and amiable. Heaven knows 
 if he was any the better for that ! As soon 
 as I was in prison he came with his two 
 ferrets, that is to say, his alguazils. They 
 entered with a cheerful air, and apparently had 
 a presentiment that they were about to do a 
 good stroke of business. They did not forget 
 their excellent custom, and began by rifling my
 
 76 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 pockets. What a godsend for these gentlemen ! 
 They had probably never had such a good 
 haul. At every handful of pistoles which they 
 drew out, I saw their eyes sparkle with joy. 
 The corregidor, especially, seemed beside him- 
 self. " My lad," he said, with a most gentle 
 voice, "we are doing our duty; but fear 
 nothing, if you are not guilty no harm will 
 come to you." Meanwhile, they very quietly 
 emptied my pockets, and took even what the 
 robbers had respected I mean my uncle's forty 
 ducats. They stuck at nothing ! Their 
 greedy and indefatigable hands searched me 
 all over from head to foot ; they whisked me 
 round and round, and stripped me to see if I 
 had not some money between my shirt and my 
 skin. I believe they gladly would have opened 
 my stomach to see if there was none inside. 
 After they had thus dexterously discharged 
 their duty, the corregidor put some questions to 
 rne. I frankly related to him all that had hap- 
 pened. He ordered my deposition to be taken 
 in writing ; and then he went away with his 
 men and my coins, leaving me without a rag 
 on the straw. 
 
 " Such is life ! " I exclaimed, when I found 
 myself alone, and in this condition, " full 
 of strange adventures arid disappointments. 
 Ever since I left Oviedo I have met with 
 nothing but misfortunes : I am barely out of 
 one peril before I Ml into another. When I
 
 GIL BLAS. 77 
 
 reached this town I was far from thinking that 
 I should so soon make acquaintance with the 
 corregidor." Indulging in these useless re- 
 flections I again put on the cursed doublet, 
 and the remainder of the suit which had brought 
 me into trouble : then, exhorting myself to take 
 courage, I said : " Come, Gil Bias, display thy 
 fortitude ; think that after this time you may 
 be in better luck. Does it become you to 
 despair in an ordinary prison after having had 
 such a severe trial of patience in an under- 
 ground cavern? But, alas!" I continued 
 sadly, " I am deceiving myself. How can I 
 get out of this ? The means have just been 
 taken from me ; for a prisoner without money 
 is a bird whose wings have been clipped." 
 
 Instead of the partridge and young rabbit 
 which I had ordered to be put to the spit, 
 they brought me a little brown bread with a 
 pitcher of water, and left me to fret at leisure 
 in my dungeon. I remained there a whole 
 fortnight without seeing anyone but the gaoler, 
 who took care to come every morning and renew 
 my provisions for the day. Whenever he made 
 his appearance I attempted to speak to him, and 
 tried to get into conversation in order to drive 
 away dulness a little ; but the fellow answered 
 nothing to all I said. It was impossible to 
 extract a word from him ; indeed, he gene- 
 rally came in and went out without looking at 
 me. On the sixteenth day the corregidor
 
 
 78 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 appeared and said: " At last, my friend, your 
 troubles are ended ; you may give yourself 
 up to joy; I am come to bring you good 
 news. I have ordered the lady who was with 
 you to be taken to Burgos; I examined her 
 before her departure, and her answers have 
 exculpated you. You shall be set at liberty 
 to-day, provided the muleteer with whom, as 
 you say, you came from Pegnaflor to Cacabelos, 
 confirms your deposition. He is now in 
 Astorga ; I have sent for him, and am expect- 
 ing him. If he confirms the story of the rack, 
 I shall immediately set you free." 
 
 These words delighted me. Thenceforth, I 
 thought myself out of the scrape. I thanked 
 the judge for the excellent and speedy justice 
 he meant to render me, and had not quite 
 finished my compliment when the muleteer 
 and two of the guard made their appearance. 
 I knew him at once ; but the scoundrel of a 
 muleteer, who had doubtless sold my port- 
 manteau with all its contents, and fearing that 
 he should be obliged to restore the money he 
 had received for it, if he confessed that he re- 
 cognised me, impudently declared that he did 
 not know who I was, and had never seen me 
 before in his life. "Oh, you villain ! " I 
 cried, "rather confess that you have sold my 
 clothes, and bear witness to the truth. Look 
 at me well ; I am one of the young men 
 whom you threatened with the rack in the
 
 GIL BLAS. 79 
 
 borough of Cacabelos, and whom you frightened 
 so greatly." The muleteer coolly replied that 
 I was talking of something whereof he had no 
 knowledge whatever ; and as he maintained to 
 the last that I was unknown to him, my re- 
 storation to liberty was deferred. " My lad," 
 said the corregidor, "you see the muleteer does 
 not agree with what you have said ; so I can- 
 not restore you to liberty, however much I wish 
 to do so." I was obliged anew to arm myself 
 with patience, to make up my mind still to 
 fast on bread and water, and to see no one but 
 the silent gaoler. The thought that I could 
 not extricate myself from the clutches of the law, 
 although I was guiltless of the slightest crime, 
 plunged me into despair. I regretted leaving 
 the underground cavern. " After all," said I, 
 " I was less disagreeably situated than in this 
 dungeon : I had plenty to eat .and to drink 
 with the robbers, I cracked jokes with them, 
 and lived in the sweet hope of making my 
 escape. But now, in spite of my innocence, 
 I may perhaps consider myself happy if I leave 
 my dungeon in order to go to the galleys."
 
 80 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS AT LENGTH GOT OUT OF PRISON, 
 AND WHERE HE WENT. 
 
 WHILE 1 passed my days in entertaining my- 
 self with my reflections, my adventures, as I 
 had related them in my deposition, were 
 bruited all about the town. Several persons 
 wished to see me out of curiosity. They came 
 one after another peeping in at a little window 
 which admitted light into my prison, and when 
 they had looked at me for some time they 
 went away. I was surprised at this novelty. 
 Since I had been a prisoner I had not seen 
 a single person at that window, which looked 
 on a court where gloom and silence reigned. 
 This gave me to understand that there was 
 some talk about me in town; but I did not 
 know whether to draw thence a favourable or 
 an unfavourable omen. 
 
 One of my first visitors was the little 
 chorister of Mondognedo, who had dreaded 
 the rack as well as myself, and had taken to 
 flight. I knew him again, and he did not 
 pretend to have forgotten me. We nodded 
 to each other ; and then we had a long conver- 
 sation. I was obliged again to go through my 
 adventures, which had a double effect on 
 the minds of my audiences, for I made them
 
 GIL BLAS. 81 
 
 laugh, and I attracted their pity. The choris- 
 ter, on his part, told me what had happened in 
 the inn at Cacabelos between the muleteer and 
 the newly-married woman, after we had taken 
 to our heels in a panic ; in a word, he told me 
 all that I have already related. Then, on tak- 
 ing leave of me, he promised that, without loss 
 of time, he would exert himself for my release. 
 All the people who, like him, had come there 
 out of curiosity, assured me that my mis- 
 fortune excited their compassion ; and they 
 even promised that they would assist the young 
 chorister, and do their utmost to procure my 
 liberty. 
 
 In fact, they kept their word. They spoke 
 in my favour to the corregidor, who, no longer 
 doubting my innocence, especially after he 
 had heard the chorister's story, came to my 
 prison three weeks later. " Gil Bias," he 
 said, " I might still keep you here, if I were 
 a more severe judge; but I do not wish to 
 protract matters : begone, you are free, you 
 may depart whenever you please. But tell 
 me," he continued; "if you were taken to 
 the forest, could you not discover where the 
 cavern is?" "No, sir," I replied; "as I only 
 entered it by night, and left it before day- 
 light, it would be impossible to recognise the 
 spot." Then the magistrate retired, saying 
 that he would order the prison doors to be 
 opened for me. Accordingly, a moment later
 
 82 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the gaoler came to my dungeon with one of 
 his turnkeys, carrying a bundle of clothes. 
 They both gravely, and without saying a single 
 word, took off my doublet and trousers, which 
 were of fine and almost new cloth ; then, 
 having put an old smock frock on me, they 
 shoved me out by the shoulders. 
 
 The confusion I was in at being so ill-clad 
 moderated the joy prisoners usually feel on 
 regaining their liberty. I was tempted to 
 leave the town that very hour, to avoid being- 
 seen by the people, whose looks I could scarcely 
 endure. But my gratitude got the better of 
 my shame ; I went to thank the little chorister, 
 to whom I owed so much. He could not help 
 laughing when he saw me. " What a figure 
 you are ! " he cried ; "I did not recognise you 
 at first in that dress ; justice, it seems, has 
 made sport of you in every way." " I do not 
 complain of the laws," I replied, " they are very 
 just; I only wish that all their officers were 
 honest men ; they might at least have left me 
 my clothes ; I think I have paid handsomely for 
 them." "I agree with you," he said; "but 
 they will tell you that there are certain for- 
 malities which must be observed. Do you 
 fancy, for instance, that your horse has been 
 restored to its rightful owner ? Not a bit of 
 it ; it is at this moment in the stable of the 
 magistrate's clerk, where it has been impounded 
 as a proof of the theft. I don't believe the
 
 GIL BLAS. 83 
 
 poor gentleman will ever get so much as the 
 crupper. But let us change the subject," he 
 continued. " What is your plan ? What do 
 you intend to do now?" "I want," said I, 
 " to start for Burgos. I shall go and look for 
 the lady whom I rescued : she will give me a 
 few pistoles, and then I shall buy a new cas- 
 sock, and go to Salamanca, where I shall try 
 to turn my Latin to some advantage. The 
 only thing that troubles me is how to get to 
 Burgos. I must live on the road ; you know 
 one meets with but poor cheer when travelling 
 without money." " I understand you," he 
 replied, " but take my purse. Of a truth it 
 is rather thinly lined; but you know a chorister 
 is not a bishop." At the same time he took 
 it out of his pocket, and put it in my hands 
 with so good a grace that I could not help 
 accepting it, such as it was. I thanked him, 
 as if he had given me all the gold in the world, 
 and made him a thousand promises, which 
 never came to anything. After this I left him, 
 and departed from the town without calling on 
 any of the other persons who had assisted me 
 in regaining my liberty. I satisfied myself with 
 blessing them a thousand times in my heart. 
 
 The little chorister was right not to boast of 
 his purse. I found very few coins in it, and 
 such coins ! only small change. Fortunately, 
 I had been accustomed for these two months 
 to very frugal fare, and I had still a few reals
 
 84 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 left when I reached the borough of Ponte <le 
 Mula, not far from Burgos. There I halted, 
 to inquire after Donna Mencia. I went into 
 an inn, the hostess of which was a small 
 woman, very withered, sharp, and haggard 
 looking. I saw at once, from the disdainful 
 glance she cast at me, that my smock frock 
 was scarcely to her taste ; but this I freely 
 pardoned her. I sat down, ate some bread 
 and cheese, and drank a few glasses of an 
 execrable wine with which they served me. 
 During this meal, which was in keeping with 
 my dress, I tried to enter into conversation 
 with the landlady, who gave me to understand, 
 by her scornful gestures, that she despised my 
 talk. I begged her to tell me if she knew the 
 Marquis de la Guardia, if his castle was far out 
 of town, and, especially, if she knew what 
 had become of his lady, the marchioness. 
 " You ask plenty questions," she replied, with 
 a disdainful look. Nevertheless, she told me, 
 though with a very bad grace, that the castle 
 of Don Ambrosio was only a short league 
 from Ponte de Mula. 
 
 After I had done eating and drinking, as it 
 was night, I mentioned that I should like to 
 go to bed, and asked for a room. "A room 
 for you ! " cried the landlady, darting at me a 
 look full of scorn ; "I have no room for people 
 who make their supper of a bit of cheese. All 
 my beds are engaged. I expect gentlemen of
 
 GIL BLAS. 85 
 
 importance, who are to sleep here to-night. 
 All I can do for you is to put you in my barn : 
 I fancy it will not be the first time you have 
 slept on straw." She spoke the truth without 
 knowing it. I did not answer her speech, and 
 wisely determined to slink to my straw-bed, 
 on which I soon fell asleep, like a man long 
 used to fatigue. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE RECEPTION WHICH DONNA MENCIA GAVE 
 GIL BLAS AT BURGOS. 
 
 I WAS not long in getting up the next morn- 
 ing. I went to settle with the landlady, who 
 was already astir, and who seemed a little less 
 lofty, and in a better humour than she had 
 been the evening before ; which I attributed to 
 the presence of three honest soldiers of the 
 Holy Brotherhood, who were conversing with 
 her in a very familiar manner. They had slept 
 in the inn ; and it was doubtless for these 
 gentlemen of importance that all the beds had 
 been retained. 
 
 1 inquired in the borough my way to the castle 
 whither I wished to go. By chance I addressed 
 myself to a man of the same character as my 
 landlord at Pegnaflor. He was not content
 
 86 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 with answering my question, but informed me 
 that Don Ambrosio had been dead three weeks, 
 and that the marchioness, his wife, had retired 
 to a convent at Burgos, which he named. 
 I walked on at once to that town instead 
 of pursuing my way to the castle, as I had 
 intended, and hastened straight to the nunnery 
 where Donna Mencia was living. I besought 
 the portress to tell this lady that a young man 
 just discharged from the prison of Astorga 
 wished to speak to her. The portress went 
 immediately and did my message as I asked 
 her ; she returned a moment after and led me 
 into a parlour, where I had not been long 
 before the widow of Don Ambrosio appeared 
 behind a grating in deep mourning. 
 
 "You are welcome," said the lady graciously. 
 "Four days ago I wrote to a person at Astorga, 
 and asked him to find you out and to tell you 
 that I urgently entreated you to come to me 
 as soon as you were released from prison. I 
 did not doubt of your soon being discharged : 
 what I had told the corregidor in your exculpa- 
 tion was sufficient for that. I received an 
 answer that you had recovered your liberty, 
 but that no one knew what had become of you. 
 I was afraid that I should never see you again, 
 and be deprived of the pleasure of testifying to 
 you my gratitude, which would have greatly 
 mortified me. Console yourself," she added, 
 observing the shame I felt in presenting myself
 
 GIL BLAS. 87 
 
 before her in such a wretched garb ; "let 
 your present condition give you no uneasi- 
 ness. After the important service you have 
 rendered me, I should be the most ungrateful 
 of my sex if I did nothing for you. I mean 
 to extricate you from your miserable situation ; 
 it is my duty, and the means are in my power. 
 I have sufficient wealth to be able to acquit 
 myself of my debt to you without putting 
 myself to inconvenience. 
 
 "You know," she continued, "all that befell 
 me up to the day when we were both thrown 
 into prison. I will now tell you what has 
 happened since then. When the corregidor of 
 Astorga ordered me to be taken to Burgos, 
 after hearing from my lips a faithful version 
 of my adventures, I betook myself to the 
 castle of Ambrosio. My return thither caused 
 extreme surprise ; but I was told I came too 
 late; that the marquis, thunderstruck by my 
 flight, had fallen ill, and that the doctors 
 despaired of his recovery. This was a fresh 
 reason for me to complain of the harshness of 
 my fate. However, I made them tell him that 
 I had arrived. Then I entered his room, and 
 ran to cast myself on my knees by his bed- 
 side, my face covered with tears, and my heart 
 oppressed by the deepest grief." " What 
 brings you here?" said he, as soon as he 
 saw me. " Have you come to contemplate 
 your work? Was it not enough to take
 
 88 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 my life? Will you not be satisfied without 
 being an eye-witness to my death?" "My 
 lord," I replied, "Inez must have told you 
 that I fled with my first husband ; and but for 
 the sad accident which has deprived me of 
 him, you would never have seen me again." 
 Then I told him that Don Alvaro had been 
 slain by robbers, and that they had carried me 
 oif to an underground cavern. I related all 
 the further details of my story; and when I 
 had finished, Don Ambrosio held out his hand 
 to me. "Enough," said he tenderly, "I will 
 make no more complaints. Alas ! have I any 
 right to reproach you ? You recover a dear 
 husband ; you abandon me to follow him ; 
 can I blame such conduct ? No, madam, I 
 should be wrong to do so. Therefore, I gave 
 orders not to pursue you, although my death 
 was the result of the misfortune of losing you. 
 I respected the sacred rights of him who 
 carried you off, and even the attachment you 
 felt for him. In short, I do you justice, 
 and by your return hither you regain all 
 my affection. Yes, my dear Mencia, your 
 presence overwhelms me with joy ; but, alas ! 
 I shall not long enjoy it. I feel my end 
 approaching. Hardly are you restored to me 
 than I must bid you an eternal farewell." 
 At these touching words my tears flowed 
 more copiously ; I felt and showed deep afflic- 
 tion. The death of Don Alvaro, whom I
 
 GIL BLAS. 89 
 
 adored, caused me fewer tears. Don Ambrosio 
 was not wrong in the presentiment of his 
 death, which happened on the next day ; 
 and I remained mistress of a considerable 
 jointure, settled on me when we were married. 
 I do not intend to make an unworthy use of 
 it. Though I am still young the world 
 shall never see me in the arms of a third 
 husband. It seems to me that such conduct 
 is only possible for those of our sex who have 
 no feelings of modesty or delicacy ; moreover, 
 I assure you that I care no more for the 
 world; and that I mean to end my days in 
 this convent, and to become a benefactress 
 to it." 
 
 Such were the words Donna Mencia addressed 
 to me. Then she drew from her dress a purse 
 which she put into my hands, saying: "Here 
 are a hundred ducats which I give you merely 
 to procure clothes. After that, come and see 
 me again ; I do not mean to confine my grati- 
 tude to such a trifle." I returned the lady a 
 thousand thanks, and promised solemnly that 
 I would not depart from Burgos without taking 
 leave of her. Having given this pledge, which 
 I had no mind to break, I went to look for an 
 inn. I entered the first I came to, asked for a 
 room, and to counteract the bad impression 
 which my smock-frock might give the landlord, 
 I told him that, notwithstanding my appear- 
 ance, I was well able to pay for my lodging. At
 
 90 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 these words the landlord, whose name was 
 Majuelo, 1 and a great wag, surveyed me from 
 top to toe, told me with a cold and sarcastic air 
 that he did not need this assurance to be per- 
 suaded that I should spend plenty in his house, 
 that he discovered something noble through 
 my dress, and that in short he did not doubt 
 that I was a gentleman of means. I plainly 
 perceived that the rascal was laughing at me ; 
 and to put an end forthwith to his jokes, I 
 showed him my purse. I even counted out 
 my ducats on a table before him, and saw that 
 my coin disposed him to judge me more 
 favourably. I asked him to send for a tailor. 
 " You had better," said he, " send for a second- 
 hand dealer; he will bring you all sorts of 
 clothes, and you will be dressed in a trice." 
 I approved this suggestion, and resolved to 
 follow it ; but as the day was closing in, I put 
 off the purchase till the morrow, and thought of 
 nothing but making a good supper, to indemnify 
 me for the wretched meals I had had since 
 leaving the cavern. 
 
 1 Majuelo is the Spanish for a little vineyard; a significant name 
 for a landlord ; it also means " a boaster."
 
 GIL BLAS. 91 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS DRESSED HIMSELF, OP THE FRESH 
 PRESENT WHICH HE RECEIVED FROM THE LADY, 
 AND THE STYLE IN WHICH HE LEFT BURGOS. 
 
 THEY brought me a goodly fricassee of sheep's 
 trotters, of which I ate almost the whole. I 
 drank in proportion, and then went to bed. I 
 had a pretty comfortable bed, and trusted that a 
 sound sleep would soon overtake me, and yet I 
 could not close my eyes ; I thought only of the 
 dress I ought to choose. "What am I to do?" 
 said I. " Shall I follow my first plan? Shall 
 I buy a cassock to go to Salamanca, and look 
 out for a tutor's place ? Why dress myself as 
 a licentiate ? Do I desire to devote myself to 
 an ecclesiastical calling ? Do I feel an inward 
 call for it ? No, the very reverse. I want to 
 wear a sword, and try to make my way in the 
 world : " and this is what I decided. 
 
 I resolved to choose a gentleman's dress, per- 
 suaded that in this guise I could not fail to 
 obtain some honourable and lucrative position. 
 In this flattering idea I waited for day with 
 the utmost impatience, and I no sooner perceived 
 the first rays of light than I got up. I made 
 so much noise in the inn that I woke all who 
 were asleep. I called for the waiters, who were 
 still in bed, and who only replied to me by
 
 92 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 loading me with curses. Nevertheless they were 
 obliged to get up, and I gave them no rest 
 until they had fetched a second-hand clothes' 
 dealer, who was followed by two lads each 
 carrying a large bundle of green cloth, and who 
 saluted me in a very civil manner. " Honoured 
 sir," he said, "it is very fortunate for you that 
 you applied to me, rather than to any one else. 
 I do not want to disparage my fellow-dealers ; 
 God forbid I should lower their repute in the 
 slightest! But between ourselves, there is not 
 one of them with a conscience. They are all 
 more extortionate than Jews. I am the only 
 second-hand dealer that has any honesty ; 
 I confine myself to a reasonable profit. I am 
 content with a pound in the penny I should 
 say with a penny in the pound. Thank Heaven ! 
 I carry on my trade on the square." 
 
 The dealer, after this preamble, which I 
 stupidly took as literally true, told the lads to 
 undo their parcels. They showed me suits in 
 various colours, and others made of plain cloth. 
 I rejected these with scorn, because I thought 
 them too quiet, but they made me try on one, 
 which fitted me as well as if I had been measured 
 for it, and which took my fancy, though it was 
 a little the worse for wear. It consisted of 
 a doublet, with slashed sleeves, with breeches 
 and cloak, all in blue velvet embroidered with 
 gold. I liked that, and inquired the price. 
 The dealer, who saw that it pleased me, observed
 
 GIL BLAS. 93 
 
 that I had a refined taste. " By all that is 
 sacred ! ' he cried, " one can see that you 
 know what you are about. I tell you that that 
 suit was made for one of the greatest lords in 
 the kingdom, who did not wear it thrice. 
 Examine the velvet, nothing can be finer ; and 
 as for the embroidery, confess that it could 
 not be better done." " What is the price of 
 it?" I asked. " Sixty ducats," he replied. 
 " I have refused that sum, or else I am a 
 rogue." The alternative was convincing. I 
 offered forty-five; it was worth about half. 
 " Sir," said the dealer, with an air of in- 
 difference, " I never ask too much ; I have only 
 one price. Here," he continued, offering me the 
 suits which I had declined, "take these; I 
 can sell you them cheaper." All this only 
 stimulated the desire I had to buy the one I 
 was bargaining for ; and as I thought he would 
 abate nothing, I counted out the sixty ducats. 
 When he saw me part with them so readily, I 
 fancy that, in spite of his honesty, he was much 
 vexed he had not asked me for more. How- 
 ever, pleased enough to have earned his pound 
 in the penny, he went off with his lads, to whom 
 also I gave something for their trouble. 1 
 
 I had now a very decent cloak, doublet, and 
 
 1 In the tenth chapter of the tenth book of Gil Bias, Lesage lets 
 Scipio relate a story of the roguery of Senor Ybagnez, a second- 
 hand clothes dealer from Segovia, who does not sell a cast-off suit 
 at too high a price, as the dealer mentioned above, but buys far 
 below its value the stage dress of the youthful actor representing 
 the King of Leon.
 
 94 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 breeches, but I had still to provide the rest of 
 the outfit, which occupied me all the morning. 
 I bought some linen, a hat, silk stockings, shoes, 
 and a sword; after which I dressed myself. 
 What pleasure I took in seeing myself so well 
 equipped ! My eyes could not be satiated, so 
 to speak, with my attire. Never did a peacock 
 behold his own plumage with greater satisfac- 
 tion. That very day I paid a second visit to 
 Donna Mencia, who received me again most 
 affably. She thanked me afresh for the service 
 I had rendered her. Thereupon followed high 
 compliments on both sides. Then, wishing me 
 every kind of prosperity, she bade me farewell, 
 and retired, without giving me anything but 
 a ring worth thirty pistoles, which she begged 
 me to keep in remembrance of her. 
 
 I looked very foolish with my ring ! I had 
 reckoned on a more considerable present. Ill 
 satisfied, therefore, with the generosity of the 
 lady, I returned to my inn, in a thoughtful 
 mood; but as I was entering, a man, who had 
 followed me close all the way, came in likewise; 
 and suddenly throwing off the cloak in which 
 he was muffled, discovered a big bag which he 
 carried under his arm. On perceiving the bag, 
 which looked as if it was full of money, I opened 
 my eyes wide, as did also several persons who 
 were present ; and I thought I was listening to 
 the voice of an angel, when the man, laying the 
 bag on the table, said to me : " Seilor Gil Bias,
 
 GIL BLAS. 95 
 
 here is something that my lady the Marchioness 
 has sent you." I made a low bow to the bearer. I 
 overwhelmed him with civilities ; and as soon 
 as he was out of the inn, I darted upon the 
 bag like a hawk on its quarry, and carried it off 
 to my room. I unfastened it without loss of 
 time, and found in it a thousand ducats. I had 
 just counted them, when the landlord, who had 
 heard what the bearer said, came in to know 
 what there was in the bag. The sight of my 
 coins, spread out on the table made a great 
 impression on him. " The deuce! " cried he, 
 " here's a lot of money ! You must know how 
 to manage the ladies well," said he, with a 
 satirical smile. " You have only been four and 
 twenty hours in Burgos, and you have already 
 laid Marchionesses under contribution." 
 
 The speech did not displease me ; I was 
 tempted to leave Majuelo in his mistake ; I felt 
 that it delighted me. I am not astonished that 
 young men like to pass for men of intrigue. 
 But the innocence of my morals got the better 
 of my vanity. I undeceived my landlord. I 
 related to him the history of Donna Mencia, to 
 which he listened very attentively. I then told 
 him the state of my affairs ; and as he seemed to 
 take an interest in me, I besought him to aid 
 me with his advice. He mused a few moments ; 
 then said to me with a serious air : " Senor Gil 
 Bias, I like you ; and as you trust me sufficiently 
 to speak openly with me, I will say without
 
 96 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 flattery what I think you are fit for. You seem 
 designed by nature for the court. I advise you 
 to go there, and attach yourself to some great 
 lord. But try to get in business relations with 
 him, or to join in his pleasures ; otherwise you 
 will waste your time. I know the great : they 
 count for nothing the zeal and attachment of 
 an honest man and only care for those who are 
 necessary to them. You have another string to 
 your bow," he continued. " You are young 
 and good looking, and, even if you had no in- 
 telligence, that is more than is needed to turn 
 the head of a rich widow, or of some pretty 
 woman, who has made an ill-suited marriage. 
 If love ruins men who have wealth, it often 
 maintains those who have none. I advise you, 
 therefore, to go to Madrid ; but you should not 
 appear there without attendants. There, as 
 elsewhere, men judge from appearances, and 
 you will be considered there only in proportion 
 to the figure you make. I shall recommend to 
 you a servant, a faithful domestic, a discreet lad, 
 in a word a man whom I have taught. Buy a 
 couple of mules, one for yourself, the other for 
 him ; and start as soon as possible." 
 
 This advice was too much to my taste not 
 to be followed. The next day I bought two 
 fine mules, and I engaged the servant whom 
 he had recommended. He was a young man 
 of thirty, of a simple and pious aspect. He 
 told me he was a native of Galicia, and that
 
 GIL BLAS. 97 
 
 his name was Ambrose de Lamela. It struck 
 me as singular that, instead of being like other 
 servants, who can never ask for high enough 
 wages, this one did not rnind them at all; he 
 even assured me that he would be satisfied with 
 whatever I might choose to give him. I also 
 bought a pair of boots, with a portmanteau to 
 hold my linen and my ducats. Then I settled 
 with my landlord; and next morning, before 
 dawn, I left Burgos for Madrid. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 WHICH SHOWS THAT WE MUST NOT RELY TOO MUCH 
 ON PROSPERITY. 
 
 WE slept the first night at Duegnas, and on 
 the second day arrived at Valladolid, about 
 four in the afternoon. We alighted at an inn 
 which seemed one of the best in the town. I 
 left the charge of the mules to my servant, and 
 went upstairs to a room, whither I ordered my 
 portmanteau to be carried by a waiter. As I 
 felt slightly tired, I threw myself on my bed 
 without taking off my boots, and gradually fell 
 asleep. It was almost night when I awoke. I 
 called for Ambrose. He was not in the inn, 
 but he soon made his appearance. I asked 
 him where he had been; he replied with a 
 pious air that he had just come from church,
 
 98 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 where he had been to thank Heaven for having 
 preserved us from all perils and dangers be- 
 tween Burgos and Valladolid. I approved of 
 his conduct, then I ordered a fowl to be 
 roasted for my supper. 
 
 Whilst I was giving him this order my land- 
 lord entered with a taper in his hand, and 
 ushered in a lady who seemed rather handsome 
 than young, and was very richly attired. She 
 was leaning on an old squire, and a little black- 
 amoor carried her train. I was not a little sur- 
 prised when this lady, after having made a low 
 curtsey, asked if I were not Seiior Gil Bias of 
 Santillana. I had no sooner answered in the 
 affirmative than she left the arm of her squire, 
 and came and embraced me with an excess of 
 j oy which increased my astonishment. ' ' Heaven 
 be praised," she cried, " for this meeting ! It 
 is you, noble Sir, whom I was looking for." 
 At this preamble T was reminded of the parasite 
 of Pegriaflor, and began to suspect the lady of 
 being a mere adventuress ; but when she con- 
 tinued her speech she gave me a more favour- 
 able opinion of her. " I am," she said, " first 
 cousin to Donna Mencia de Mosquera, who is so 
 much indebted to you. This very morning 
 I received a letter from her. She writes that, 
 having learned that you were going to Madrid, 
 she begged me to entertain you handsomely, if 
 you should pass this way. I have been these 
 two hours running all over the town, and gone
 
 GIL BLAS. 99 
 
 from inn to inn to enquire what strangers 
 were in the house ; and I judged, from the de- 
 scription your landlord gave me of you, that 
 you might be the deliverer of my cousin. Ah ! 
 since I have met you," she continued, " I will 
 show you how grateful I am for the services 
 rendered to my family, and especially to my 
 dear cousin. You must please come at once 
 and stay with me ; you will be more comfort- 
 able in my house than here." I would have 
 excused myself, and represented to the lady 
 that I might inconvenience her : but there was 
 no resisting her importunities. There was a 
 carriage waiting for us at the door of the inn. 
 She herself took care to have my portmanteau 
 put inside, "for," said she, "there are many 
 rogues in Valladolid," which was only too true. 
 Then I got into the carnage with her and her 
 old squire, and thus let myself be carried off 
 bodily from the inn, to the great displeasure 
 of the landlord, who saw himself deprived of 
 the money which he had expected I should 
 spend at his house, with the lady, the groom, 
 and the little blackamoor. 
 
 Our carriage stopped after proceeding some 
 distance. We alighted, entered a pretty large 
 house, and went upstairs into a room, by no 
 means ill-furnished, and illuminated by twenty 
 or thirty wax candles. There were several 
 servants there, .of whom the lady inquired 
 whether Don Raphael had come in. They
 
 100 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 answered no. Then addressing me she said : 
 " Seiior Gil Bias, I am expecting my brother, 
 who is to return to-night from a country seat 
 of ours, about two leagues from here. What 
 a pleasant surprise it will be for him to find in 
 his house a gentleman to whom our whole 
 family is so indebted ! " As she finished 
 speaking we heard a noise, and we were told 
 it was caused by the arrival of Don Eaphael. 
 This gentleman soon appeared. He was a 
 young man of handsome figure, and very good 
 address. " I am delighted that you have 
 returned, brother," said the lady; " you will 
 help me to entertain Seiior Gil Bias of Santil- 
 lana. We cannot be too grateful for what he 
 has done for Donna Mencia, our relative. Here, 
 read this letter she has sent me." Don Raphael 
 opened the note, and read aloud : " My dear 
 Camilla, Seiior Gil Bias of Santillana, who has 
 preserved my honour as well as my life, has 
 just left for the court. He will doubtless pass 
 through Valladolid. I entreat you by the ties 
 of kindred, and still more by the friendship 
 which unites us, to entertain him and keep him 
 some time with you. I flatter myself that you 
 will please me in this, and that my deliverer 
 will receive from you and from my cousin Don 
 Raphael, every kind of civility. Burgos. 
 Your affectionate cousin, DONNA MENCIA." 
 
 " What," cried Don Raphael, after havingread 
 the letter, " it is to this gentleman that my kins-
 
 GIL BLAS. 101 
 
 woman owes her honour and her life ! Ah, 
 Heaven be praised for this happy meeting." 
 So saying he approached me, and pressing me 
 in his arms : " How delighted I am," he con- 
 tinued, "in seeing Senor Gil Bias of Santillana ! 
 My cousin the marchioness had no occasion to 
 recommend us to entertain you ; she had only to 
 tell us that you were passing through Valla- 
 dolid : that would have been enough. My sister 
 Camilla and I know well how to treat a man 
 who has rendered the greatest service in the 
 world to that member of our family whom we 
 love best." I replied as well as I could to these 
 remarks, which were followed by many others 
 of the same kind, and interspersed with a thou- 
 sand compliments. After which, perceiving 
 that I still had on my boots, he ordered his 
 servants to take them off. 
 
 We then went into another room where supper 
 was served. We sat down to table, the gentle- 
 man, the lady, and I. They said a hundred oblig- 
 ing things to me during supper. Not a word 
 escaped me that they did not extol as an ad- 
 mirable witticism ; and it was surprising to see 
 how attentive they were in helping me from 
 every dish. Don Raphael frequently drank 
 to the health of Donna Mencia. I followed his 
 example ; and it seemed to me sometimes that 
 Camilla, who drank with us, darted significant 
 looks at me. I even thought I observed that 
 she watched her opportunities, as though she
 
 102 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 feared her brother would perceive it. No more 
 was needed to persuade me that the lady was 
 smitten, and I flattered myself that I would 
 profit by this discovery, if I should remain 
 in Valladolid. This hope induced me to yield 
 without difficulty to their entreaties that I would 
 pass u few days with them. They thanked me 
 for my acceding to their request; and the 
 pleasure betrayed by Camilla confirmed me in 
 my opinion that I had found favour in her eyes. 
 Don Raphael, seeing me willing to stay with 
 him some time, proposed to take me to his 
 country house. He gave me a glowing descrip- 
 tion of it, and spoke of the pleasures he meant 
 to give me there. " Sometimes," he said, " we 
 shall amuse ourselves with hunting, sometimes 
 with fishing ; and if you like walking we have 
 delightful woods and gardens. Besides, we shall 
 have a good deal of company ; I hope you will 
 not find the time hang heavy on your hands." 
 I accepted the invitation, and it was resolved 
 that we should go to this fine country house the 
 next day. We rose from table as we agreed 
 upon this pleasant plan. Don Raphael appeared 
 in ecstasy : " Seiior Gil Bias," he said, embrac- 
 ing me, "I leave you with my sister. I am 
 going at once to give the necessary orders, and 
 send invitations to all whom I wish to be of the 
 party." At these words he left the room where 
 we were sitting ; and I continued to converse 
 with the lady, who did not contradict by her
 
 GIL BLAS. 103 
 
 speech the soft glances which she had cast 
 on me. She took my hand, and looking at my 
 ring, said : "You have a pretty enough diamond, 
 there, but it is very small. Are you a connoisseur 
 in precious stones?" I replied that I was not. " I 
 am sorry for that," she replied, " for you might 
 have told me what this one is worth." As she 
 spoke she showed my a large ruby on her finger ; 
 and while I was examining it, she said : " One 
 of my uncles, who was governor of the Spanish 
 settlements in the Philippine islands, gave me 
 this ruby. The jewellers of Valladolid value it 
 at three hundred pistoles." " I do not doubt 
 it," said I, " I think it a very fine stone." " As 
 you like it" she rejoined, " I shall make an ex- 
 change with you." Immediately she took off 
 my ring, and put her own on my little finger. 
 After this exchange, which seemed to me a gen- 
 teel way of making a present, Camilla squeezed 
 my hand and looked at me tenderly ; then all 
 on a sudden, breaking off the conversation, she 
 wished me good night and retired in confusion, 
 as if ashamed at the indiscreet disclosure of her 
 feelings. 
 
 Though a very novice in gallantry I felt how 
 flattering this sudden retreat was to me ; and I 
 concluded that I should not pass my time 
 very disagreeably in the countiy. Full of this 
 flattering idea, and of the splendid turn my 
 affairs were taking, I locked the door of the 
 room where I was to sleep, after telling my
 
 10-1 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 servant to come and wake me early in the morn- 
 ing. Instead of going to sleep, I abandoned 
 myself to the pleasant reflections with which 
 my portmanteau, which was upon the table, 
 and my ruby inspired me. " Thank Heaven," 
 said I, " if I have been unfortunate, lam so no 
 longer ! A thousand ducats in the first place, a 
 ring worth three hundred pistoles in the second : 
 I am rich for a long time to come. I see now 
 that Majuelo was not flattering me : 1 shall in- 
 flame the hearts of a thousand ladies in Madrid, 
 since I have so easily pleased Camilla." The 
 favours of this generous lady presented them- 
 selves to my mind with all their charms, and I 
 also tasted in anticipation the pleasures which 
 Don Eaphael was preparing for me in his 
 country seat. At last, amid so many pleasant 
 images, sleep shed her poppies over me, and as 
 soon as I felt myself grow drowsy T undressed 
 and went to bed. 
 
 The next morning, when I awoke I perceived 
 that it was rather late. I was quite surprised 
 not to see my servant make his appearance after 
 the order I had given him. " Ambrose," I 
 said to myself, "my faithful Ambrose, is at 
 church, or else he is very lazy to-day." But I 
 soon lost this opinion of him, and conceived 
 one very much worse ; for having got out of bed. 
 and not seeing my portmanteau, I suspected 
 him of having stolen it in the night. To clear 
 up my suspicions I opened the door of my
 
 GIL BLAS. 105 
 
 room, and called the hypocrite several times. 
 There came at my call an old man, who said, 
 " What do you want, sir? All your people left 
 my house before daybreak." "How! Your 
 house?" I cried. " Am I not here in Don 
 Raphael's house ? " "I do not know that 
 gentleman," replied he ; " you are in fur- 
 nished lodgings, and I am the landlord. Last 
 night, an hour before your arrival, the lady 
 who supped with you came here, and engaged 
 this room for a great lord, travelling incognito, 
 as she said. She even paid me in advance." 
 
 Then I saw all. I knew what I might think 
 of Camilla and Don Raphael ; and it was clear 
 to me that my servant, having a thorough know- 
 ledge of my affairs, had betrayed me to these 
 rogues. Instead of laying the blame of this sad 
 business on myself alone, and considering that it 
 would not have happened if I had not been so 
 indiscreet as to confide in Majuelo without any 
 necessity, I imputed it all to innocent Fortune, 
 and cursed my star a hundred times. The 
 landlord of the furnished lodgings, to whom I 
 related the adventure, which he probably knew 
 as well as I did, seemed affected by my grief. 
 He pitied me, and declared that he was deeply 
 mortified that such a scene had passed in his 
 house; but I fancy, in spite of his protestations, 
 that he had an equal share in this swindle 
 with mine host at Burgos, to whom I have 
 always ascribed the honour of planning it.
 
 106 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 WHAT GIL BLAS DID AFTER THE ADVENTURE OF 
 THE FURNISHED LODGINGS. 
 
 AFTER vainly lamenting my misfortune I 
 reflected that, instead of giving way to my 
 sorrow, I ought rather to nerve myself against 
 my unhappy fate. I summoned my courage, 
 and by way of comfort said to myself, as I was 
 dressing : "I am tolerably lucky that the rascals 
 have not carried off my clothes, and the few 
 ducats I have in my pockets." I gave them 
 credit for being so considerate. They had even 
 been generous enough to leave me my boots, 
 which I sold to the landlord for a third of 
 what they cost me. At last I emerged from the 
 lodgings without needing anyone, thank Heaven, 
 to carry my luggage. The first thing I did was 
 to see if my mules were still at the inn where 
 I had alighted the day before. I was right 
 in thinking that Ambrose had not left them 
 behind, and would to Heaven I had always 
 judged his character as sensibly ! I learned that 
 he had taken care to fetch them the night before. 
 Thus not expecting to see them again, any 
 more than my portmanteau, I strolled about the 
 streets sadly, musing as to what I ought to do. 
 I was tempted to return to Burgos, in order once 
 again to have recourse to Donna Mencia ; but
 
 GIL BLAS. 107 
 
 reflecting that this would be abusing the kind- 
 ness of that lady, and that moreover I should 
 look like a fool, I abandoned the idea. I also 
 made a vow that for the future I would be on my 
 guard against women ; I should at that moment 
 have distrusted even the chaste Susanna. From 
 time to time my eyes fell upon my ring ; and 
 when I thought that it was a present of Camilla, 
 I sighed with vexation. " Alas," I said to 
 myself, " I am no judge of rubies, but I know 
 the value of the people who exchange them. 
 I do not think I need go to a jeweller to be 
 convinced that I am a fool." 
 
 At the same time I could not help wishing to 
 know what my ring was worth, and I went and 
 showed it to a lapidary, who valued it at three 
 ducats. On hearing this estimate, though it did 
 not astonish me, I sent the niece of the gover- 
 nor of the Philippine islands to the deuce, or 
 rather I did but send back to him his own. 
 As I was coming out of the lapidary's shop 
 a young man who was passing stopped to 
 look at me. I did not recollect him at first, 
 though his features were perfectly familiar to 
 me. " Why, Gil Bias," said he, " do you pre- 
 tend not to know me? or have two years so 
 changed the son of barber Nunez that you do 
 not recognise him ? Do you not remember 
 Fabricio, your townsman and school-fellow? 
 We used to dispute so often at Dr Godinez's 
 upon universals and metaphysics."
 
 108 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I remembered him before he had done spea'k- 
 ing, and we embraced each other cordially. 
 " Well, my friend," he continued, "I am de- 
 lighted to meet you. I cannot express the 
 joy I feel. . . . But," he added with an air of 
 surprise, " in what condition do I behold you ? 
 Ods life, you are dressed like a prince ! A fine 
 sword, silk stockings, a velvet doublet and cloak, 
 with silver embroideries.* Plague take it ! that 
 looks devilish like intrigues. I will lay a wager 
 that some liberal old lady has been sharing 
 with you generously." " You are mistaken," 
 said I. " My affairs are not so flourishing as you 
 imagine." " That won't do for me," he replied, 
 " that won't do ; you wish to be discreet. And 
 that fine ruby that I see on your finger, Mr Gil 
 Bias, whence comes that, pray?" " It comes," 
 I answered, "from an arrant jade. Fabricio, my 
 dear Fabricio, far from being the darling of 
 the ladies of Valladolid, I tell you, my friend, 
 that I am their dupe." 
 
 I uttered these last words so sadly that 
 Fabricio clearly saw that I had been victimised. 
 He pressed me to tell him why I thus com- 
 plained of the fair sex. I was easily per- 
 suaded to satisfy his curiosity ; but as I had a 
 long story to tell, and as moreover we did not 
 wish to part from each other in a hurry, we went 
 
 * The blue velvet suit embroidered with gold which Gil Bias 
 bought in the fifteenth chapter has become suddenly changed into 
 a suit with silver embroidery.
 
 GIL BLAS. 109 
 
 into an inn, in order to converse more at our 
 ease. There I related to him, as we were break- 
 fasting, all that had happened to me since I left 
 Oviedo. He thought my adventures very 
 strange ; and after assuring me that he greatly 
 sympathized with me in my vexatious position, 
 said : " We must console ourselves, my dear 
 fellow, in all the misfortunes of this life ; this 
 is the only difference between a strong and 
 courageous mind and a weak one. If a man of 
 mettle is in distress, he waits patiently for 
 more fortunate times. Never, as Cicero says, 
 should one be so depressed as to forget that one 
 is a man. For my own part, I am just of that 
 disposition; my misfortunes never overwhelm 
 me ; I am always above bad fortune. For in- 
 stance, I was in love with a girl of good family 
 in Oviedo ; I was loved by her ; I asked her in 
 marriage from her father, and he refused. 
 Another would have perished of grief. I ad- 
 mire my strength of mind ! I carried the little 
 one off. She was passionate, thoughtless, and 
 a flirt ; pleasure, therefore, continually swayed 
 her, to the neglect of duty. I took her for a tour 
 in Galicia for six months ; then, as I had given 
 her a taste for travelling, she wanted to go to 
 Portugal, but she took another travelling com- 
 panion. Another cause of despair, yet I did not 
 give way under this fresh misfortune; and, wiser 
 than Menelaus, instead of taking the offensive 
 against the Paris who had filched my Helen, I
 
 110 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 held myself indebted to him for taking her off 
 my hands. After that, not wishing to return 
 to the Asturias, in order to avoid any contro- 
 versy with justice, I made for the kingdom of 
 Leon, spending in the successive towns the 
 money which remained after my elopement 
 with the infanta for we had neither of us 
 left Oviedo empty handed, and were not ill 
 supplied. But all I had possessed was soon 
 squandered. I reached Palencia with a soli- 
 tary ducat, out of which I was obliged to buy a 
 pair of shoes. The money that was left did 
 not carry me far. My situation became em- 
 barrassing ; I was already putting myself 
 on a strict diet : it was necessary that I should 
 at once turn to something. I resolved to go 
 into service. I first took a place with a cloth 
 merchant in a large way, whose son was a 
 rake. There I had no need to fast, but at 
 the same time 1 was vastly perplexed. The 
 father ordered me to play the spy on his son ; 
 the son entreated me to help him to deceive 
 his father : I had to choose. I preferred the 
 entreaty to the command, and this preference 
 resulted in my losing my place.* I next went 
 into the service of an old artist, who out of 
 
 * In the eleventh chapter of the tenth book of Gil Bias, Scipio 
 relates how he entered the service of a rich cloth merchant, 
 Balthazar Velasquez, who also wished him to play the spy on 
 his rakish son, but how he preferred to assist the latter in deceiv- 
 ing his father, until the son proposed to aid him in killing the old 
 man.
 
 GIL BLAS. Ill 
 
 friendship wanted to teach me the principles of 
 his art ; but whilst he was shewing me what 
 they were, he let me die of hunger. That 
 disgusted me with painting, and with my 
 dwelling in Palencia. I came to Valladolid, 
 where, by the greatest good fortune, I entered 
 the house of a governor of the hospital ; I am 
 living there still, and am delighted with my 
 post. Senor Manuel Ordonez, my master, is 
 a man of profound piety, a good man, for he 
 always walks with his eyes fixed on the ground, 
 and a big rosary in his hand. They say that 
 from his youth, having no other aim but the 
 good of the poor, he has devoted himself to it 
 with unwearying zeal, and his care has not 
 been without its reward. Everything has 
 prospered with him, and by the blessing of 
 Heaven, whilst he manages the affairs of the 
 poor, he has become rich ! " 
 
 After Fabricio had made this speech 1 said to 
 him, " I am very glad you are satisfied with 
 your lot; but between ourselves, it seems to 
 me you might play a better part in the world 
 than that of a servant : a fellow of your worth 
 might take a higher flight." " You speak 
 without thinking, Gil Bias," he replied. 
 " Know that, for a man of my mood, there 
 is no more agreeable situation than mine. 
 The duties of a servant are troublesome, I 
 admit, to a silly fellow, but for a lad of 
 intelligence they are highly attractive : a
 
 112 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 superior genius who goes into service does not 
 do his duties in a rough way like a simpleton. 
 He enters a house to rule rather than to serve. 
 He begins by studying his master; he accommo- 
 dates himself to his faults, gains his confidence, 
 and then leads him by the nose. Such has 
 been my plan of operation with my hospital 
 governor. I soon read the man : I saw he 
 
 O ' 
 
 wanted to pass for a saint ; I pretended to be 
 his dupe that costs nothing. I did more, I 
 copied him; and acting in his presence the same 
 part which he acts before others, I tricked the 
 trickster, and gradually became his factotum. 
 Some day, I hope under his auspices to have 
 something to do with the affairs of the poor, 
 I too may chance to make a fortune, for I am 
 as fond of their interests as he is." 
 
 " These are fine hopes, my dear Fabricio," I 
 replied, " and I congratulate you. For my 
 part, I come back to my first plan. I shall 
 change my embroidered suit for a cassock, re- 
 pair to Salamanca, and there, enlisting myself 
 under the banners of the University, become 
 a tutor." "A capital idea," cried Fabricio; 
 " a pleasant conceit ! What madness at your 
 age to want to be a pedant. Do you know, 
 you poor fellow, what you are committing 
 yourself to by adopting this decision? As 
 soon as you obtain a tutor's place, the entire 
 household will have their eyes upon you. 
 Your most trivial actions will be scrupulously
 
 GIL BLAS. 113 
 
 watched. You will have constantly to restrain 
 yourself, to wear a hyprocite's face and to seem 
 endowed with all the virtues. You will never 
 have a moment for pleasure. An everlasting 
 censor of your pupil, you will pass your days in 
 teaching him Latin, and in scolding him when 
 he says or does anything against decorum; 
 a task which will give you no small amount 
 of occupation. And after all your trouble and 
 constraint, what will be the fruit of your pains? 
 If the little gentleman is a bad boy, they will 
 say that you have brought him up ill ; and his 
 parents will send you packing without any re- 
 ward, perhaps even without paying you your 
 salary. Do not talk to me of a tutor's place; it is 
 on a par with a cure of souls. But give me a ser- 
 vant's post ; it is a sinecure, and pledges you 
 to nothing. If a master has vices, the superior 
 genius who serves him flatters them, and 
 often, indeed, converts them to his own advan- 
 tage. A servant lives without anxiety in a good 
 household. After having eaten and drunk his 
 fill, he goes to sleep quietly, like a child of 
 well-to-do parents, without troubling himself 
 about the butcher or baker. I should never 
 end, my dear fellow," he continued, "were I to 
 enumerate all the advantages of being a ser- 
 vant. Trust me, Gil Bias ; give up once for 
 all the desire of becoming a tutor, and follow 
 my example." 
 
 " Ay, but, Fabricio," I rejoined, "one does not 
 
 I. H
 
 114 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 meet with hospital governors every day ; and 
 if I were resolved to go into service, I should 
 at all events like to get a good place." 
 
 " Oh, you are right," he said, " and I shall 
 make that my business. I guarantee you a 
 good situation, if it were only to rescue a fine 
 fellow from the university." 
 
 The impending destitution which threatened 
 me, and the confident bearing of Fabricio 
 persuading me even more than his arguments, 
 I resolved to go into service. Then we quitted 
 the inn, and my townsman said to me : "I am 
 going to take you forthwith to a man to whom 
 most servants apply when out of a place. He 
 has scouts who tell him all that goes on in 
 families. He knows where servants are 
 wanted, and keeps a correct register, not only 
 of vacant places, but also of the good and bad 
 qualities of the masters. The man has been a 
 friar in some convent or other. In fact it was 
 he who got me my own place." 
 
 Whilst we were conversing about this singu- 
 lar agency the son of Nunez the barber took 
 me down a blind alley. We entered a small 
 house, where we found a man of about fifty 
 writing at a table. We saluted him, with 
 tolerable respect, too; but whether he was 
 proud by nature, or whether, accustomed only 
 to see lackeys and coachmen, he had got into 
 the habit of receiving his clients without much 
 ceremony, he did not rise from his seat, but
 
 GIL BLAS. 115 
 
 contented himself with giving us a slight nod. 
 However, he looked at me with special atten- 
 tion. I saw clearly that he was surprised at a 
 young man in an embroidered velvet suit 
 wanting to become a servant. He might rather 
 have thought that I was come to ask for one. 
 But he could not long continue in suspense 
 concerning my intention, since Fabricio at once 
 said to him : " Seiior Arias de Londona,* give 
 me leave to present to you my best friend. 
 He is a young man of good family, whom mis- 
 fortune reduces to the necessity of going into 
 service. I beg you will provide him with a 
 good place, and you may rely on his grati- 
 tude." 
 
 "Gentlemen," Arias coolly replied, " this is 
 the way with you all. Before you are placed 
 you make the finest promises in the world ; as 
 soon as you are in a good situation you think 
 no more of them." 
 
 " What?" said Fabricio," " do you complain 
 of me ? Did I not do what was right ? " 
 
 " You might have done better still," rejoined 
 Arias; "your position is as good as a clerk's 
 in a public office, and you paid me as if I had 
 put you with an author." Then I took up the 
 conversation, and said to Mr Arias that, to 
 show him that I was not ungrateful, I should 
 like the acknowledgment to precede the service. 
 
 * Llorente says this senor ought to be called Londono, for there 
 are two villages of this name near the town of Ordona, in Biscay.
 
 116 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 At the same time I took out two ducats arid 
 gave them to him, promising to give him more 
 if he got me a good situation. 
 
 He seemed satisfied with my mode of deal- 
 ing:. "I like men to act so with me," he said. 
 
 o 
 
 " There are some excellent places vacant ; I will 
 give you a list of them, and you can choose the 
 one which pleases you." With these words he 
 put on his spectacles, opened a register which 
 was on the table, turned over a few leaves, and 
 began to read as follows : "Wanted, a footman 
 for Captain Torbellino,* a passionate, coarse, 
 and whimsical man ; he scolds without inter- 
 mission, swears, beats his servants, and usually 
 cripples them." " Let us get on to another," I 
 said, in the midst of this description; "that 
 captain does not suit me." My vivacity made 
 Arias smile, and he thus continued his reading : 
 " Donna Manuela de Sandoval, a superannuated 
 old dowager, peevish and capricious, is now 
 without a footman; she keeps but one, and 
 cannot retain that one for a whole day. For 
 the last ten years there has been but one livery 
 suit in the house, which is worn by all the 
 footmen who enter, whatever their size may 
 be. It may be said that they only try it on, 
 and that it is still quite new, though it has 
 been worn by two thousand. Doctor Alvar 
 Fanez wants a footman. He is a chemist and 
 
 * Torbellino is the Spanish for a whirlwind, as well as for a 
 Inosterous person.
 
 GIL BLAS. 117 
 
 physician. He keeps his servants well, treats 
 them properly, and gives them high wages ; but 
 he tries experiments on them. There are 
 often places vacant in his house." " Ah, I can 
 readily imagine it, " said Fabricio, laughing. 
 "Od's life, you are showing us fine places." 
 "Patience," said Arias de Londona, "we are 
 not yet at the end ; there will be something 
 to please you." Thereupon he continued to 
 read : " Donna Alphonsa de Solis, an aged 
 devotee, who spends two-thirds of the day 
 at church, and insists upon her footman being 
 always along with her, has been without a 
 lackey these three weeks. The licentiate 
 Sedillo,* an old canon of the chapter of this city, 
 packed off his servant yesterday . . . ' "Stop 
 there, Seiior Arias de Londona," cried Fabricio; 
 " we will fix upon that last place. The licen- 
 tiate Sedillo is one of my master's friends, 
 and I am very well acquainted with him. I 
 know he has for his housekeeper an old devotee, 
 Dame Jacinta, who manages all his affairs. 
 It is one of the best houses in Valladolid : they 
 live quietly, and eat and drink very well. Be- 
 sides, the canon is an infirm man, old and gouty, 
 who will soon make his will, so that a legacy 
 may be expected. What a delightful prospect 
 for a servant! Gil Bias," he added, turning to 
 me. " Let us lose no time, my friend, but go 
 
 * This should be Cedillo, according to Llorente.
 
 118 THE ADVENTURES OF GIL BLAS. 
 
 instantly to the licentiate's house ; I shall in- 
 troduce you myself, and give you a character." 
 At these words, for fear of losing such a good 
 chance, we hurriedly took leave of Mr Arias, 
 who assured me that if I should not get this 
 place, I might reckon, in return for my money, 
 on his finding me another as good.
 
 BOOK II.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PABRICIO INTRODUCES GIL BLAS TO THE 
 LICENTIATE SEDILLO. HOW THEY FOUND 
 THAT CANON. A DESCRIPTION OF HIS 
 
 HOUSEKEEPER. 
 
 WE were so afraid of arriving too late at the 
 old licentiate's that we rushed from the alley 
 to his house. We found the door closed, and 
 we knocked. A child of ten, whom the house- 
 keeper passed off as a niece, and scandal could 
 not gainsay the relationship, opened the 
 door, and as we were asking her if we could 
 speak to the canon, Dame Jacinta appeared. 
 She was a lady already arrived at years of dis- 
 cretion, but still handsome : and I especially 
 admired the freshness of her complexion. She 
 wore a long woollen dress of the most ordinary 
 quality, with a broad leather girdle, from which 
 hung on one side a bunch of keys, and on the 
 other a rosary of large beads. As soon as 
 we saw her we bowed with much respect ; she 
 returned the salute very civilly, but modestly 
 and with downcast eyes. 
 
 " I have been told," said my companion, 
 " that the licentiate Sedillo requires an honest
 
 122 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 servant, and I have come to introduce one with 
 whom I hope he will be pleased." The house- 
 keeper raised her eyes at these words, and 
 looked at me steadily, and, unable to reconcile 
 my embroidered suit with Fabricio's speech, 
 asked if it were I who wanted the vacant place. 
 
 " Yes," said Nunez's son, " this is the young 
 man. You are surprised at his appearance, 
 but he has met with misfortunes which oblige 
 him to go into service. He will be consoled 
 for his troubles," he added, in an insinuating 
 voice, "if he is happy enough to become an 
 inmate here, and dwell with the virtuous 
 Jacinta, who deserves to be the housekeeper 
 of the Patriarch of the Indies."* At these 
 words the old devotee ceased to look at me, 
 and cast her eyes on the courteous individual 
 who was speaking to her. Struck with his 
 features, which she thought were not altogether 
 unknown to her, she said, "I have a vague idea 
 of having seen you somewhere; pray, assist 
 my recollection." 
 
 "Virtuous Jacinta," replied Fabricio, " I am 
 proud to have attracted your notice; I have 
 been twice to this house with my master, Seilor 
 Manuel Ordonez, the governor of the hospital." 
 
 " Ah, just so ! ' replied the housekeeper. 
 " I recollect ; I recall you now. Ah, since you 
 belong to Sefior Ordonez, you must be a good 
 
 * The Patriarch of the Indies was the head of all the religious 
 establishments of the Spaniards of South America.
 
 GIL BLAS. 123 
 
 and honourable lad. Your situation speaks in 
 your favour, and this young man could not 
 have a better recommendation. Come in," she 
 continued, " I will get you speech with Seiior 
 Sedillo. I think he will be glad to engage a 
 lad at your recommendation." 
 
 We followed Dame Jacinta. The canon 
 had four apartments on the ground floor, 
 well wainscotted, and all leading into one 
 another. She begged us to wait in the first 
 one for a moment, and left us, passing into 
 the second, where the licentiate was. After 
 remaining there some time alone with him to 
 introduce the matter, she came and told us 
 we might enter. We perceived the gouty old 
 man, immersed in an arm-chair, a pillow under 
 his head, cushions under his arms, and his legs 
 resting on a large cushion stuffed with down. 
 We approached him without stinting our bows ; 
 and Fabricio, being still spokesman, was not 
 merely satisfied with repeating what he had said 
 to the housekeeper, but began to extol my 
 merits, and enlarged especially on the honours I 
 had reaped at Dr Godinez's in philosophical dis- 
 cussions : as though I required to be a great 
 philosopher to become a canon's footman ! 
 However, by the grand eulogy he pronounced 
 on me, he did not fail to throw dust in the 
 licentiate's eyes, who observing besides that I 
 was not displeasing to Dame Jacinta, said to 
 my introducer: "Friend, I take the youth
 
 124 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 whom you have brought to me into my service; 
 I like him well enough, and I opine favourably 
 of his morals, since he is presented by a servant 
 of Sefior Ordoiiez." 
 
 As soon as Fabricio saw that I was engaged, 
 he made a low bow to the canon and another still 
 lower to the housekeeper, and went away well 
 pleased, after telling me in an undertone that 
 we should see each other again, and that I had 
 nothing to do but to stay where I was. When he 
 was gone, the licentiate asked me my name, and 
 why I had left my native place ; and by his 
 questions he drew me on, in the presence of 
 Dame Jacinta, to relate my history. I diverted 
 them both, especially by the narrative of my last 
 adventure. Camilla and Don Raphael amused 
 them so much that it nearly cost the gouty old 
 man his life ; for whilst he was laughing 
 heartily he was seized with such a violent fit of 
 coughing that I thought he was going to die. 
 As he had riot yet made his will, you may fancy 
 how frightened the housekeeper was ! I saw her 
 trembling in despair, rushing to the old man's 
 assistance, and doing all that one is wont to do 
 to relieve a coughing child, rubbing his fore- 
 head and clapping him on the back. However, 
 it was but a false alarm ; the old man ceased to 
 cough, and his housekeeper to torment him. 
 I was going to finish my story, but Dame 
 Jacinta, fearing a second cough, would not 
 let me. She took me from the canon's room
 
 GIL BLAS. 125 
 
 to a wardrobe, where amongst several other suits 
 was that of my predecessor. She bade me take 
 it and put mine in its place, which I was not 
 sorry to do, as I wished to preserve my suit in 
 the hope that it might still be of use to me. 
 Then we both went to get dinner ready. 
 
 I was no novice in the art of cooking. In 
 fact I had served my happy apprenticeship 
 under Dame Leonarda, who might have passed 
 for a good cook. Yet she was not to be com- 
 pared to Dame Jacinta. The latter, I should 
 say, was even better than the cook of the Arch- 
 bishop of Toledo.* She excelled in everything; 
 her soups were exquisite, so skilled was she in 
 selecting and mixing the gravies she put into 
 them ; and her made dishes were seasoned de- 
 lightfully. When dinner was ready we again 
 entered the canon's room, and, whilst I laid 
 the cloth on the table close to his arm-chair, the 
 housekeeper tucked a napkin under theold man's 
 chin, and pinned it behind his back. A moment 
 later I brought in a soup which might have been 
 placed before the most famous gourmand in 
 Madrid, and two entrees which might have stimu- 
 lated the appetite of a viceroy, if Dame Jacinta 
 had not been sparing of the spices, for fear of 
 irritating the licentiate's gout. At the sight 
 of these dainty dishes my old master, whom I 
 thought impotent in all his limbs, showed me 
 
 * As the Archbishopric of Toledo was one of the richest in Spain, 
 Gil Bias thinks that the cook of this prelate ought to be first-rate.
 
 126 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 that he had not entirely lost the use of his 
 arms. He employed them to get rid of his 
 pillow and his cushions, and cheerfully pre- 
 pared himself for eating. Though his hand 
 shook it did not refuse him its aid ; he moved 
 it about pretty freely, yet in such a way as to 
 spill on the cloth and on his napkin half of 
 what he lifted to his mouth. I carried away 
 the soup when he had done with it, and 
 brought in a partridge flanked by two roast 
 quails, which Dame Jacinta carved for him. 
 She took care also to give him from time to 
 time copious draughts of wine, slightly diluted, 
 from a large and deep silver cup, which she 
 held to his mouth as if he had been a fifteen 
 months old child. When he was well gorged, 
 the devotee untied his napkin, put back his 
 pillow and cushions, and left him quietly to enjoy 
 the usual after-dinner nap, whilst we cleared 
 away the things, and went to eat in our turn. 
 
 This is how our canon dined every day; he 
 was, perhaps, the best knife and fork in the 
 chapter. But he supped more lightly, content- 
 ing himself with a chicken or a rabbit, and a few 
 preserves. I fed well in that house, and I lived 
 there a very easy life. There was but one thing 
 to annoy me, and that was that I had to sit up 
 with my master, and spend the night like a sick 
 nurse. In addition to a stricture which made him 
 call for something or other about ten times in an 
 hour, he was very much given to perspire ; and
 
 GIL BLAS. 127 
 
 when that came on his shirt had to be changed. 
 " Gil Bias," he said to me the second night, 
 " you are skilful and active ; I foresee that I 
 shall be well pleased with your attendance. I 
 only recommend you to behave respectfully 
 towards Dame Jacinta, and to do implicitly 
 whatever she tells you, as though I were order- 
 ing you myself. She is a woman who has served 
 me with particular zeal for these fifteen years ; 
 she takes such care of me as I can never be 
 sufficiently grateful for. And so, I confess, she 
 is dearer to me than all my family. To please her 
 I have turned out of doors my nephew, my own 
 sister's son ; and I did right. He had no con- 
 sideration for this poor woman ; and far from 
 doing justice to her sincere attachment to me, 
 the insolent fellow treated her as a hypocrite ; 
 for now-a-days virtue is taken for mere hypo- 
 crisy by young people. Thank Heaven I have 
 got rid of that rascal. I prefer attachment 
 to my person to the ties of blood, and am 
 influenced only by the benefits I receive." 
 "You are right, sir," I said to the licentiate; 
 " gratitude should have more weight with us 
 than the ties of kindred." " Of course," he 
 replied, " and my will shall show that I do not 
 care much for my relatives. My housekeeper 
 will stand well in it, and you shall not be 
 forgotten, if you go on serving me as well as you 
 have begun. The servant whom I turned away 
 yesterday lost a good legacy by his own fault.
 
 128 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 If the wretch had not by his misbehaviour com- 
 pelled me to pack him off. I should have made 
 him rich ; but he was a conceited fellow, who 
 had not sufficent respect for Dame Jacinta, an 
 idle rogue who dreaded the smallest trouble. 
 He did not like to sit up with me, and it fatigued 
 him greatly to pass his nights in relieving me." 
 " Oh the wretch !" I cried, as though inspired 
 by the genius of Fabricio, " he did not deserve 
 to be living with such a good master. A lad 
 who has the happiness to serve you ought to 
 be indefatigable in his zeal; he should consider 
 his duty a pleasure, and think nothing of even 
 going through fire and water for you." 
 
 I perceived that these words greatly plejased 
 the licentiate. He was no less satisfied with my 
 assurance that I should always be thoroughly 
 submissive to Dame Jacinta; so, wishing to 
 have the character of a servant whom fatigue 
 could not overcome, I performed my duty with 
 the best grace possible. I did not complain of 
 being on my feet all night, though I found it 
 very unpleasant ; and without the legacy where- 
 with I fed my hopes, I should soon have been 
 disgusted with my situation, and not have 
 been able to stand it. It is true that I 
 got a few hours rest during the day. The 
 housekeeper, I will do her this justice, was 
 very kind to me, which must be attributed to 
 the pains I took to secure her good graces by a 
 subservient and respectful bearing. If I was
 
 GIL BLAS. 129 
 
 at table with her and her niece, who was called 
 Inesilla, I changed their plates, filled their 
 glasses, and waited on them with a most par- 
 ticular attention. Thus I wormed myself 
 into their friendship. One day when Dame 
 Jacinta had gone to market, finding myself 
 alone with Inesilla I entered into conversation 
 with her. I asked her if her father and mother 
 were still alive. "Oh, no," she answered; 
 "they are dead long, long ago; my good aunt 
 told me so, and I never saw them." I religiously 
 believed the little girl, though her answer waft 
 not categorical ; and I got her to talk so freely 
 that she told me more than I wanted to know. 
 She informed me, or rather I gathered from her 
 artlessness, that her good aunt had a male friend 
 living likewise at an old canon's, whose affairs 
 he managed, and that these happy domestics 
 intended to put together the spoils of their 
 masters in a union, the sweets whereof they 
 had tasted beforehand. I have already said 
 that Dame Jacinta, though somewhat ad- 
 vanced in years, was still fresh looking. It is 
 true that she spared no pains for keeping her- 
 self so: she not only took an enema every 
 morning, but swallowed some first-rate soup 
 during the day and when she went to bed. 
 Moreover, she slept soundly at night, whilst I 
 sat up with my master. But what perhaps 
 contributed more than anything else to preserve 
 her fresh complexion was, as Inesilla told me, 
 that she had an issue on each leg. 
 i. i
 
 130 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HOW THE CANON WAS TREATED WHEN HE FELL 
 ILL ; WHAT CAME OF IT ; AND WHAT HE LEFT 
 IN HIS WILL TO GIL BLAS. 
 
 I SERVED the licentiate Sedillo for three 
 months, without grumbling at the bad nights 
 he made me pass. At the end of this time he 
 fell ill ; fever came on, and this distemper 
 aggravated his gout. For the first time in 
 his life, which had been a long one, he had 
 recourse to physicians. He sent for Doctor 
 Sangrado,* whom all Valladolid regarded as 
 a Hippocrates. Dame Jacinta would have 
 preferred that the canon should have begun 
 by making his will, and even dropped some 
 hints on that subject, but he did not believe 
 himself as yet so near his end, and was 
 obstinate in certain matters. I therefore went 
 for Doctor Sangrado, and brought him to the 
 house. He was a tall man, spare and pale, 
 
 * Sangrado is the Spanish for " bled " ; the person who bleeds is 
 called Sangrador. In the Voyages faits en Espagne . . . d ailleurs, 
 1699, the people who bleed are called Sangreros, and they do 
 nothing else but blood-letting. It has been said that in Sangrado 
 Lesage wanted to depict the celebrated Dutch physician Helvetius, 
 who practised in Paris, and was the father of the well-known philo- 
 sopher. It is more probable that a certain Doctor Hecquet, the 
 dean of the faculty of medicine of Paris, was meant ; for he never 
 drank anything but water, and never ate any meat.
 
 GIL BLAS. 131 
 
 who for forty years at least had kept Clotho* 
 busy with her shears. This learned physician 
 had a grave appearance ; he weighed his words 
 and emphasized his expressions. His argu- 
 ments appeared to be mathematical, and his 
 opinions very original. 
 
 After having examined the symptoms of my 
 master's disease he said to him pompously : 
 " The question is to supply the defect of per- 
 spiration which is obstructed. Others in my 
 place would doubtless prescribe saline draughts, 
 diuretics, diaphoretics, which for the most 
 part comprise sulphur and mercury ; but 
 purgatives and sudorifics are pernicious drugs, 
 invented by quacks. All chemical prepar- 
 ations seem made only to injure. I use 
 simpler and more efficacious means. What 
 is your usual diet ? " he continued. The 
 canon replied : "I generally take soups and 
 rich meats." 
 
 " Soups and rich meats ! " cried the doctor 
 in surprise. " Ah ! truly I am no longer 
 astonished to find you ill. Luxurious living 
 is a poisonous bait ; a snare that sensuality sets 
 for mankind, the more effectually to ruin them. 
 You must renounce pampering your appetite ; 
 the most insipid food is the best for health. 
 As the blood is insipid it requires food which 
 
 * In the original it is said that Sangrado kept the shears of the 
 Parcae occupied. This is a mistake, for only Clotho cut the thread 
 of life, whilst Lachesis and Atropos spun. In Smollett's transla 
 tion this fault had already been corrected.
 
 132 THE ADVENTURES OP 
 
 partakes of its own nature. And do you drink 
 wine?" lie added. "Yes," said the canon, 
 "diluted with water." " Oh, no matter how you 
 dilute it," replied the physician. " What an ir- 
 regularity ! This is a frightful diet ! You ought 
 to have been dead long ago. How old are 
 you ? " "I am entering on my sixty-ninth year," 
 replied the canon. " Just so," said the physi- 
 cian, " a premature old age is always the result 
 of intemperance. If you had only drunk pure 
 water all your life, and had been content with 
 simple food, baked apples for instance, peas or 
 beans, you would now not be tormented by the 
 gout, and all your limbs would have readily dis- 
 charged their functions. Yet I do not despair 
 of setting you on your feet again, if only you 
 will strictly follow my directions." The licen- 
 tiate, epicure as he was, promised to obey the 
 doctor in all things. 
 
 Sangrado then sent me for a surgeon whom 
 he named, and ordered him to take from my 
 master about eighteen ounces of blood, by way of 
 beginning to supply the defect of perspiration. 
 Then he said to the surgeon : " Master Martin 
 Onez, come back in three hours, and do the like 
 again ; and to-morrow you shall make a fresh 
 start. It is a mistake to think that the blood 
 is necessary to preserve life ; you cannot bleed 
 a patient too much. As he is not compelled to 
 perform any considerable movement or exercise, 
 and has nothing to do except not to die, he
 
 GIL BLAS. 133 
 
 needs no more blood to live than a man who is 
 asleep : life in both cases consists only in pul- 
 sation and respiration." The good canon, 
 imagining that so great a doctor could not argue 
 wrongly, allowed himself to be bled without 
 resistance. When the physician had ordered 
 these frequent and copious bleedings, he said 
 that we must also make the canon continually 
 drink warm water, declaring that water drunk 
 abundantly might be considered the true specific 
 against all sorts of distempers. Then he went 
 away, telling Dame Jacinta and me, with an air 
 of confidence, that he would answer for the 
 patient's life if we treated him in the manner he 
 had prescribed. The housekeeper, who pro- 
 bably had a different idea from his own about 
 his method, protested that his orders should be 
 scrupulously observed. In fact, we put on the 
 water to warm immediately; and as the physician 
 had recommended us above all things not to be 
 too sparing of it, we at once made my master 
 drink two or three pints at as many draughts. 
 An hour later we repeated it ; then, returning 
 to the charge, from time to time, we poured a 
 deluge of water into his stomach. The surgeon, 
 on the other hand, seconding our efforts by the 
 quantity of blood which he drew off, we brought 
 the old canon to death's door in less than a 
 couple of days. 
 
 The good priest, being quite exhausted, said 
 to me in a feeble voice as I was going to make
 
 134 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 him swallow another big glass of the specific : 
 " Stop, Gil Bias, give me no more, my friend. I 
 see plainly that I must die, in spite of the virtue 
 of the water ; and though I have hardly a drop 
 of blood left in my body I do not feel myself 
 the better for that: which plainly proves that the 
 cleverest physician in the world cannot prolong 
 our days when their fatal period has arrived. So 
 I must prepare to set out for the other world : go 
 therefore and fetch me a notary, I want to make 
 my will." At these last words, which I was 
 not sorry to hear, I pretended to look very sad, 
 which no legatee fails to do in a similar circum- 
 stance ; and concealing the desire I had to exe- 
 cute the commission which he gave me, I said to 
 him : " Oh, sir, you are not so bad, thank God, 
 but that you may recover." " No, no, my lad," 
 he replied, "it is all over with me; I feel that the 
 gout is rising, and that death is at hand ; make 
 haste to go where I have told you." In fact I saw 
 that he was changing visibly ; and the matter 
 appeared to me so pressing that I made as much 
 haste as possible to obey his order, leaving him 
 to the care of Dame Jacinta, who was more 
 afraid than I that he would die without making 
 his will. I went into the first notary's house 
 which was pointed out to me, and finding him 
 at home, said to him : Sir, the licentiate Sedillo, 
 my master, is nearing his end; he wants to make 
 his will; there is not a moment to lose." The 
 notary was a dapper, little, old man, who was
 
 GIL BLAS. 135 
 
 fond of jesting. He asked me what physician 
 attended the canon. I said it was Doctor 
 Sangrado. On hearing that name he caught up 
 his cloak and hat in a hurry, and cried :* " By 
 Heavens, let us make haste, for that doctor is so 
 expeditious that he does not give his patients 
 time to call members of my fraternity. That 
 man has done me out of many wills." 
 
 Whilst saying these words he made haste to 
 come with me ; and as we were both walking 
 quickly, to arrive before the canon should be at 
 the last gasp, I said to him : " Sir, you are aware 
 that a testator when he is dying often lacks 
 memory ; if perchance my master should forget 
 me, I beg you to remind him of my zeal.' 
 " That I will, my good fellow," replied the 
 notary, " you may depend on that. It is right 
 that a master should reward an attendant who 
 has served him well. I will even urge him 
 to give you something handsome, if he be 
 in the least inclined to recognise your services." 
 The licentiate, when we came into his room, 
 had still all his faculties about him. Dame 
 Jacinta, her face bathed in tears which she had 
 at command, was at his bedside. She had just 
 been playing her part, and preparing the good 
 man to benefit her largely. We left the notary 
 alone with my master, and went out, she and I, 
 
 * That a notary who is going out in a hurry takes his hat and 
 cloak, denotes, according to M. Llorente, " an intimate knowledge 
 of Spanish habits which none but a Spaniard could possess."
 
 136 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 into the ante-chamber, where we met the 
 surgeon, whom the physician had sent to bleed 
 the canon anew and for the last time. We laid 
 hold of him. " Stop, Master Martin," said the 
 housekeeper; "you cannot just now enter the 
 chamber of Seiior Sedillo. He is about to dic- 
 tate his last will to a notary who is with him ; 
 you can bleed him at your leisure when his 
 will is made." 
 
 The pious gentlewoman and I were much 
 afraid that the licentiate should die in the midst 
 of making his will ; but fortunately the deed 
 which caused us this anxiety was executed. 
 We saw the notary leave, who meeting me on 
 his way, said smiling ; " Gil Bias has not been 
 forgotten." At these words I felt the most 
 lively joy imaginable ; and I was so grateful to 
 my master for remembering me that I promised 
 to pray heartily for him after his death. This 
 event happened anon ; for, the surgeon having 
 bled him once more, the poor old man, already 
 too much weakened, expired almost immedi- 
 ately. As he was drawing his last breath the 
 physician appeared, and looked rather foolish 
 in spite of the custom he had of dispatching 
 his patients. Nevertheless, far from setting 
 down the death of the canon to the drench- 
 ings and bleedings, he coolly observed as he 
 took his departure that the patient had not 
 been bled enough, and had not drunk enough 
 warm water. The medical executioner, I
 
 GIL BLAS. 137 
 
 mean the surgeon, also seeing that there was 
 no further need of his services, followed Doctor 
 Sangrado, both remarking that they had said 
 that the licentiate would not recover, the very 
 first day they saw him. And in fact they 
 hardly ever were mistaken when they passed 
 the like judgment. 
 
 As soon as we saw that our patron was dead, 
 Dame Jacinta, Inesilla, and I joined in a chorus 
 of funeral lamentations, which were heard all 
 over the neighbourhood. The housekeeper in 
 particular, who had the greatest reason to 
 rejoice, uttered such plaintive sounds that she 
 seemed to be the person most seriously afflicted. 
 The room instantly filled with people, attracted 
 less by sympathy than by curiosity. The rela- 
 tives of the deceased no sooner heard of his 
 death than they poured into the house, and 
 had seals put on everything. They found the 
 housekeeper in such grief that they thought 
 at first the canon had made no will ; but they 
 soon learned, to their great regret, that there 
 was one, executed with all the necessary for- 
 malities. When it came to be opened, and they 
 saw that the testator had disposed of the 
 best part of his property in favour of Dame 
 Jacinta and the little girl, they pronounced 
 his funeral oration in terms not much to the 
 honour of his memory. They objurgated the 
 legatee, and also dragged in my name. It 
 must be confessed that I deserved it well.
 
 138 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 The licentiate Heaven rest his soul ! in order 
 to make me remember him all my life, ex- 
 pressed himself in these terms in one clause of 
 his will : ' : Likewise, whereas Gil Bias is a 
 youth who has already some knowledge of 
 literature, to render him a thorough scholar, I 
 bequeath to him my library, all my books and 
 manuscripts, without any exception." 
 
 I did not know where this said library could 
 be ; I had not observed one in the house. I 
 only knew that there were a few papers, with 
 five or six volumes, on two little deal shelves in 
 my master's study : and that was my legacy. 
 Moreover, the books could not do me much 
 good. The title of one was The Complete 
 Cook ; another treated of indigestion and how 
 to cure it ; and the rest were the four parts of 
 a breviary, half eaten by the worms, As for the 
 manuscripts, the most curious consisted of all 
 the documents of a lawsuit in which the canon 
 was formerly engaged, for his prebend. After 
 examining my legacy with more attention than 
 it deserved, I gave it up to the relatives who 
 had so greatly grudged it to me. I even made 
 over to them the livery I wore, and resumed my 
 own dress, claiming my wages for my only re- 
 ward. Then I went to look for another place. As 
 for Dame Jacinta, besides the sums which had 
 been left to her, she had in addition some valuable 
 articles, which she had appropriated with the 
 aid of her friend during the licentiate's illness.
 
 GIL BLAS. 139 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GIL BLAS ENTERS THE SERVICE OF DOCTOR SAN- 
 GRADO, AND BECOMES A CELEBRATED PHYSICIAN. 
 
 I RESOLVED to go and see Sefior Arias de 
 Londona, and to select from his register a 
 new situation; but just as I was entering the alley 
 where he lived I met Doctor Sangrado, whom I 
 had not seen since the day of my master's death. 
 I took the liberty of touching my hat to him. 
 He recollected me at once, though I had changed 
 my dress; and with a show of pleasure in 
 seeing me, said: " Ah, there you are, my lad; 
 I was just thinking of you. I want some clever 
 fellow to enter my service, and I thought you 
 would just suit, if you know how to read and 
 write." " Sir," I replied, " in that respect I am 
 your man, for I can do both." " In that case," 
 he replied, "you are the very lad I want. . 
 Come to my house, which you will find very 
 comfortable ; I will treat you out of the com- 
 mon. I shall give you no wages, but you will 
 want nothing ; I shall take care to use you 
 well, and teach you the great art of curing all 
 diseases. In a word, you will be rather my 
 pupil than my servant." 
 
 I accepted the doctor's proposal, in the hope 
 that, under such a learned master, I might 
 become illustrious in medicine. He took me
 
 HO THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 home with him at once, to instal me in the 
 occupation he destined me for ; which occupa- 
 tion consisted in writing down the names and 
 residences of the patients who sent for him 
 whilst he was out. He had a register at his 
 place for this purpose, wherein an old female 
 servant, who was his only attendant, used to 
 enter the addresses; but not only was she 
 unable to spell, but she wrote so badly that, 
 as a rule, her writing could not be deciphered. 
 The doctor gave me the charge of this book, 
 which might justly be called a register of 
 deaths, as almost all the people died whose 
 names I took down. I inserted, so to speak, the 
 names of those who wished to go to the other 
 world, just as a clerk in a stage-coach office 
 enters the names of those who engage places. 
 My pen was always in my hand, for there was 
 at that time no more fashionable physician in 
 Valladolid than Doctor Sangrado. He had risen 
 into reputation with the public by his profes- 
 sional verbiage, which he gave out with an 
 imposing air, and by a few lucky cures which 
 had done him more credit than he deserved. 
 
 He had no lack of practice, nor, consequently, 
 of wealth. However, he did not fare the better 
 for that, and the living at his house was very 
 frugal. As a rule we ate only peas, beans, 
 baked apples, or cheese. He explained that 
 this food suited the stomach best, as being most 
 fit for trituration, that is, for easy pounding.
 
 GIL BLAS. 141 
 
 Nevertheless, though he thought them readily 
 digestible, he did not recommend that people 
 should take their fill of them; wherein, of a 
 truth, he was in the right. But if he forbade 
 the maid- servant and myself to eat much, to 
 make up for it he allowed us to drink as much 
 water as we liked. Far from restricting us in 
 this respect he used sometimes to say to us : 
 "Drink, my children; health consists in the 
 suppleness and humectation of the parts. Drink 
 water in abundance ; it is a universal solvent ; 
 water melts all the salts. If the flow of blood 
 is a little sluggish, water accelerates its motion ; 
 if too rapid, water checks its impetuosity." 
 Our doctor was so far consistent that he himself 
 never drank anything but water, though he was 
 advanced in years. He defined old age as a 
 natural consumption, which dries up and wastes 
 us away ; and, in accordance with this defini- 
 tion, he deplored the ignorance of those who 
 call wine old men's milk. He maintained that 
 wine wears them out and destroys them, and 
 pleaded very eloquently that this fatal liquor is 
 for them, as for everyone, a treacherous friend 
 and a deceitful pleasure. 
 
 In spite of these learned arguments, after I 
 had been eight days in the house I suffered from 
 diarrhosa, and began to feel great pain in the 
 stomach, which I was rash enough to set down 
 to the universal solvent, and to the wretched 
 nourishment that I took. I complained of it
 
 142 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to my master, in hopes that he might relent, 
 and allow me a little wine at my meals ; but he 
 was too inimical to this liquor to agree to it. 
 "When you shall have acquired a habit of drink- 
 ing water," he said, " you will acknowledge its 
 excellence ; but if you feel any reluctance for 
 pure water, there are innocent means of sup- 
 porting the stomach against the insipidity of 
 aqueous drinks. Sage, for instance, and ver- 
 onica, will give them a delectable savour ; and 
 if you would make them still more delicious, 
 you have only to add an infusion of carnation, 
 of rosemary, or of the wild poppy." 
 
 It was no use his praising water, and teach- 
 ing me how to brew exquisite beverages ; I 
 drank with so much moderation that perceiving 
 my temperance he said to me : " Ah, Gil Bias, 
 of a truth I do not wonder that you do not 
 enjoy perfect health ; you do not drink enough, 
 my friend. Water taken in small quantities 
 serves only to develope the particles of bile and 
 to give them more activity; whereas they 
 should be drowned in copious dilutions. Do not 
 be afraid, my child, that a superabundance of 
 water will weaken or chill your stomach ; dismiss 
 that panic fear that you seem to be in of frequent 
 drinking. I will guarantee the consequences ; 
 and if you do not think my word good enough, 
 Celsus himself will bear me out. This Latin 
 oracle writes an admirable eulogy of water ; 
 and he goes on to say, in so many words, that
 
 GIL BLAS. 143 
 
 those who make the weakness of their stomach 
 an excuse for drinking wine do a manifest 
 injustice to this organ, and merely seek a cloak 
 for their sensuality." 
 
 As it would have looked bad to appear 
 untractable at the very beginning of my medi- 
 cal career, I pretended to be convinced that he 
 was right ; and I will even confess that I 
 actually believed him. I therefore continued 
 to drink water, on the authority of Celsus ; or 
 rather, I began to drown my bile by drinking 
 this liquid copiously ; and although I felt worse 
 and worse every day, the foregone conclusion 
 was stronger than experience. I had, it will be 
 seen, a natural inclination for the medical pro- 
 fession. Yet I could not always resist the 
 violence of my pains, which grew to such a 
 pitch that at last I resolved to leave Doctor 
 Sangrado. But he gave me a new occupation 
 which made me change my mind. " Hark ye," 
 he said to me one day, " I am not one of those 
 harsh and ungrateful masters who let their 
 servants grow gray in their service before 
 rewarding them. I am pleased with you, I 
 like you ; and without waiting for you to serve 
 me longer I have resolved to make your fortune 
 from to-day. I will forthwith reveal to you the 
 whole of the healing art which I have been 
 professing for so many years. Other physicians 
 make this consist in the knowledge of a thou- 
 sand difficult sciences ; but I, for my part, mean
 
 144 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to shorten this long road, and spare you the 
 pains of studying natural philosophy, pharmacy, 
 botany, and anatomy. Know, my friend, that 
 you have nothing to do but to bleed and make 
 your patients drink warm water :* that is the 
 secret of curing all the diseases in the world. 
 Yes, this simple secret which I reveal to you, 
 and which nature, impenetrable to my brethren, 
 has not been able to conceal from my observa- 
 tion, lies in these two things in blood-letting 
 and frequent draughts of water. I have no- 
 thing more to teach you. You know physic 
 thoroughly ; and profiting by the result of my 
 long experience, you are all at once as 
 learned as I am. You can," he continued, 
 " relieve me forthwith. You can keep our 
 register in the morning, and in the afternoon 
 visit some of my patients. Whilst I look 
 after the nobility and the clergy, you shall 
 go for me to the houses of the middle class 
 when they send for me ; and when you have 
 practised some time I will procure your regular 
 admittance into the faculty. You are now, 
 Gil Bias, proficient before you become a phy- 
 sician, whilst others are physicians a long time, 
 and most of them all their lives, before they 
 become proficient." 
 
 I thanked the doctor for having so quickly 
 enabled me to act as his deputy ; and to show 
 
 * In the Voyages f aits en Espagne . . . d ailleurs, 1699, it is stated 
 that le potarje et la saignte . . . sont les lieux communs des me'decins.
 
 GIL BLAS. 145 
 
 my gratitude for his kindness, I assured him 
 that I would adhere to his views all my life, 
 even if they were contrary to those of Hippo- 
 crates. Nevertheless, this assurance was not 
 quite sincere. I disapproved of his views con- 
 cerning water, and reckoned on drinking wine 
 every day when I went out to visit my patients. 
 For the second time I hung my embroidered 
 suit on the nail, in order to assume one of my 
 master's, and to give myself the appearance of 
 a physician. 1 I then set about practising medi- 
 cine at the expense of those whom it might 
 concern. My first patient was an alguazil 
 who had an attack of pleurisy. I ordered him 
 to be bled unmercifully, and to give him 
 plenty of water. I next went to a pastry-cook 
 who roared aloud on account of the gout. 
 I drew off his blood as freely as the alguazil' s, 
 and ordered him to drink water every instant. 
 I received a dozen reals for my prescriptions, 
 which made me take such a fancy to the 
 profession, that I thought " the more mis- 
 chief, the better sport." As I was leaving the 
 pastry-cook's house I met Fabricio, whom I 
 had not seen since the death of the licentiate 
 Sedillo. He looked at me a long time with 
 surprise ; then he burst out laughing with 
 all his might, holding his sides. It was not 
 without reason. I wore a cloak which trailed 
 
 1 Physicians formerly wore a distinctive dress in France as well 
 as in Spain. 
 
 K
 
 146 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 on the ground, with a doublet and breeches 
 four times longer and wider than need be. I 
 looked, indeed, a grotesque and original figure. 
 I let him laugh as long as he liked, not with- 
 out being tempted to follow his example ; but 
 I refrained, that I might preserve my decorum 
 in the streets, the better to enact the physi- 
 cian, who is not a laughing animal. If my 
 ridiculous appearance excited Fabricio's merri- 
 ment, my serious air increased it; and when 
 he ceased laughing, he exclaimed : " Od's 
 life, Gil Bias, why, you are nicely tricked 
 out ! Who the deuce has disguised you in 
 that fashion ? " " Gently, my friend, gently," 
 I replied ; " respect a new Hippocrates ! Learn 
 that I am the deputy of Dr Sangrado, the 
 most famous physician in Valladolid. I have 
 been living in his house for three weeks. He 
 has fully instructed me in medicine; and as 
 he cannot personally attend to all the 
 patients who send for him, I visit part of 
 them to relieve him. He goes to the houses 
 of the great, and I to those of the commoners." 
 "Capital," said Fabricio; "that is, he gives 
 up the blood of the people to you, and keeps 
 for himself that of the quality. I congratulate 
 you on your division ; it is better to have 
 to do with the people than with persons of 
 fashion. Happy is the lot of a physician of 
 the suburbs ! His faults are less in view, and 
 his assassinations make no noise. Yes, my dear
 
 GIL BLAS. 147 
 
 fellow," he added, " your lot seems to me an 
 enviable one ; arid, to talk like Alexander, 
 if I were not Fabricio, I should wish to be 
 Gil Bias." 
 
 To convince the son of Nunez, the barber, 
 that he was not wrong in extolling my present 
 good fortune, I showed him the reals of the 
 alguazil and the pastry-cook ; and then we 
 adjourned to a tavern to spend some of them. 
 They brought us some tolerable wine, and 
 the desire I had to taste it made me think 
 it better than it was. I drank some deep 
 draughts; and, with due deference to the Latin 
 oracle, the more I poured into my stomach the 
 more I felt that that organ was not displeased 
 at the wrong I did it. Fabricio and I stayed 
 long in this tavern, and made merry at the 
 expense of our masters, as is the custom with 
 servants. Then, seeing that night was ap- 
 proaching, we separated, after promising each 
 other to meet again at the same place, on the 
 next day, in the afternoon.
 
 148 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 GIL BLAS CONTINUES TO PRACTISE MEDICINE WITH 
 AS MUCH SUCCESS AS ABILITY. THE ADVEN- 
 TURE OF THE RECOVERY OF THE RING. 
 
 I WAS scarcely home when Dr Sangrado arrived. 
 I gave him an account of the patients I had seen, 
 and put in his hands eight reals which remained of 
 the twelve I had received for my prescriptions. 
 " Eight reals," he said, counting them; " it is 
 little enough for two visits, but we must take all 
 we can get. And he took them almost all, 
 for he kept six, and gave me the other two, 
 whilst saying : " Here, Gil Bias, here is the 
 beginning of a fortune for you ; moreover, I 
 will make an agreement with you, which 
 will be very useful : I shall allow you a fourth 
 part of what you bring me. You will soon be 
 rich, my friend; for, please God, there will 
 be plenty of sickness- this year." 
 
 I had reason to be satisfied with my share, 
 for, as I intended always to keep a quarter 
 of what I received in the town, and as I got, 
 moreover, a quarter of what remained, this, 
 if there is any truth in arithmetic, made, as my 
 perquisite, nearly half of the sum total. This 
 inspired me with a new ardour for my profession. 
 On the next day, as soon as I had dined, I put 
 on my professional dress, and took the field 
 once more. I visited several patients who were 
 on my list, and treated them all in the same
 
 GIL BLAS. 149 
 
 manner, though they had various disorders. 
 So far, things had gone on smoothly, and no 
 one, thank Heaven, had rebelled against my 
 prescriptions ; but however excellent the prac- 
 tice of a physician may be, he cannot always 
 escape censure or envy. I went to the house 
 of a grocer, whose son suffered from dropsy. 
 I met there a little, swarthy physician, whose 
 name was Dr Cuchillo, 1 and whom a relative 
 of the master of the house had just brought in 
 to see the patient. I made the most profound 
 bows all round, but especially to the gentleman 
 whom I thought they had called in to have a 
 consultation with me about the patient's case. 
 He gravely returned my salute; then, after 
 looking at me some time attentively, he said : 
 " Doctor, I beg pardon for being inquisitive. I 
 thought I knew all the physicians in Vallado- 
 lid, my colleagues ; and yet I confess that your 
 features are unknown to me. You must have 
 been settled but a short time in this town." I 
 replied that I was a young practitioner, and 
 that I was as yet only prescribing under the 
 auspices of Dr Sangrado. " I congratulate 
 you," he replied politely, " on having em- 
 braced the method of so great a man. I do 
 not doubt that you are very skilful, though 
 
 1 Cuchillo is the Spanish for a knife, and means also " to com- 
 mand imperiously." The portrait of Dr Cuchillo is said to be an 
 allusion to a certain Dr Procope-Couteau (1684-1753), a man of 
 small stature, and eccentric habits, who practised in Paris, was a 
 declared opponent of Dr Hecquet, and wrote several plays, as well 
 as various articles in newspapers.
 
 150 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 you seem very young." He said this so natur- 
 ally that I did not know whether he spoke 
 seriously, or whether he was joking at my 
 expense ; and I was thinking of what I ought 
 to reply to him when the grocer, taking the 
 opportunity of addressing us, said: "Gentle- 
 men, I am persuaded that you both are per- 
 fectly competent in medical science ; pray 
 examine my son, and prescribe what you think 
 efficacious to cure him." 
 
 Thereupon the little doctor began to inquire 
 into the state of the patient ; and after having 
 pointed out to me all the symptoms which de- 
 noted the character of the disease, he asked me 
 what I thought the best method of treatment. 
 " I am of opinion," I replied, " that he should 
 be bled every day, and be made to drink warm 
 water copiously." At these words the little 
 doctor said, smiling sarcastically, " And you 
 believe that these remedies will save his 
 life?" "Not a doubt of it," I exclaimed in 
 a resolute tone; "you will see him get 
 better visibly; they must produce that effect, 
 since they are specifics against every kind of 
 disease. Ask Dr Sangrado!" "In that case," 
 he replied, " Celsus is very wrong in declaring 
 that the readiest way to cure a dropsical person 
 is to make him suffer hunger and thirst." " 0, 
 Celsus ! " I rejoined ; " I have not much faith in 
 him ; he makes mistakes like other men ; some- 
 times I am very thankful to have acted against
 
 GIL BLAS. 151 
 
 his opinions, and have found it beneficial." " I 
 recognise by your language," said Cuchillo, "the 
 sure and satisfactory method which Dr San- 
 grado imparts to young practitioners. Blood- 
 letting and drenching constitute his whole art 
 of medicine. I am not surprised that so many 
 worthy people die under his hands." " Do 
 not let us descend to invective," I interrupted, 
 rather abruptly; " really, a gentleman of your 
 profession had better not make such reproaches. 
 Come, come, my learned doctor, without bleed- 
 ing and without drinking warm water, many 
 patients are sent to the other world ; and may- 
 be you have yourself hurried off more than 
 anyone else. If you have anything to say 
 against Dr Sangrado, commit it to paper ; he 
 will reply, and we shall see on whose side the 
 laughers will be." " By Saint lago and Saint 
 Denis," he interrupted in his turn, hotly, "you 
 hardly know Dr Cuchillo. Know that I have 
 tooth and nails, and that I am not at all afraid 
 of Sangrado, who, despite his presumption and 
 vanity, is but a ninny ! " The little doctor put 
 me in a rage. I replied to him sharply ; he re- 
 joined in the same manner, and we soon came 
 to fisticuffs. We had time to give each other a 
 few blows, and to tear out a few handfuls of 
 hair, before the grocer and his relative could 
 separate us. When they had done this they paid 
 me my fee, and retained my antagonist, who 
 apparently seemed to them to be cleverer than I.
 
 152 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 After this adventure, I was near having 
 another. I went to see a fat precenter who 
 had caught a fever. As soon as he heard me 
 talk of warm water, he showed himself so 
 averse to this specific that he began to swear. 
 He called me a great many names, and even 
 threatened to throw me out of the window if 
 I did not make haste to be gone. He had 
 no need to repeat his threat; I went away 
 promptly, and not caring to see more patients 
 that day, betook myself to the tavern where I 
 had made an appointment with Fabricio. He 
 was already there. Being in a mood to tipple, 
 we drank hard, and returned to our masters' in 
 good spirits, that is to say, half seas over. 
 Dr Sangrado did not notice my intoxication, 
 because I related to him with so many gestures 
 the quarrel I had had with the little doctor, that 
 he took my vivacity for an effect of the agita- 
 tion not yet subsided after the combat. More- 
 over, he himself fired up at the story I told 
 him ; and, being incensed against Cuchillo, he 
 said: "You did well, Gil Bias, to defend the 
 credit of our remedies against that little abor- 
 tion of the faculty. So he pretends that we 
 ought not to administer aqueous draughts to 
 dropsical patients ? What an ignorant fellow ! 
 I maintain that we must employ them. Yes, 
 water," he continued, " is a cure for all sorts of 
 dropsies ; and it is just as good for rheumatism 
 and the green sickness. It is also excellent in
 
 GIL BLAS. 153 
 
 those fevers where the patient burns and shivers 
 at the same time, and its effects are miraculous 
 in diseases attributed to cold, serous, phleg- 
 matic, and pituitous humours. This opinion 
 may seem strange to young physicians like 
 Cuchillo, but it can be defended by theory and 
 practice ; and if those men were capable of 
 reasoning logically instead of running me down 
 as they do, they would admire my method, and 
 become my most zealous partisans." 
 
 He was in such a rage that he did not sus- 
 pect me of being intoxicated, for to exasperate 
 him still more against the little doctor, I had 
 embellished my story with several circum- 
 stances of my own invention. However, 
 engrossed as he was by what I had told him, 
 he did not fail to notice that I drank more 
 water than usual this evening. 
 
 In fact the wine had made me very thirsty. 
 The suspicion of any one else but Sangrado 
 w r ould have been awakened by the thirst that 
 consumed me, and the great draughts of 
 water I tossed off; but he, fancying seriously 
 that I was beginning to acquire a taste for 
 watery potions, said to me with a smile: "I 
 can see, Gil Bias, that you no longer have 
 such an aversion for water. Od's life, you 
 drink it like nectar. That does not astonish 
 me, my friend; I knew that you would get 
 used to this liquid." " Sir," I replied, "there 
 is a time for everything; I would give just
 
 154 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 now a hogshead of wine for a pint of water- " 
 This answer delighted the doctor, who did 
 not lose so good an opportunity of extolling 
 the excellence of water. He began a new 
 panegyric upon it, not as a calm orator, but 
 as an enthusiast. "A thousand times," he 
 exclaimed, " a thousand thousand times more 
 estimable and more innocent than the taverns 
 of our days, were those water-establishments of 
 former ages, whither men did not go shamefully 
 to prostitute their wealth and their life in glut- 
 ting themselves with wine, but where they met 
 to amuse themselves, decently and without 
 risk, by drinking warm water ! We cannot 
 too much admire the wise foresight of those 
 ancient worthies of the state, who established 
 places of public resort, where water was given 
 to all comers, and who confined wine to the 
 shops of the apothecaries, permitting its use 
 only by prescription of the physicians. What 
 a stroke of wisdom ! Doubtless," he added, 
 "it is by some happy remains of this ancient 
 frugality, worthy of the golden age, that 
 persons are found to this day who, like you 
 and me, drink nothing but water, and who as 
 a preventive against, or as a cure for all ail- 
 ments, believe in drinking warm water that 
 has never boiled; for I have observed that 
 when water has been boiled it is heavier and 
 sits less easily on the stomach." 
 
 Whilst holding forth thus eloquently, I
 
 GIL BLAS. 155 
 
 more than once thought I should burst out 
 laughing. Yet I maintained my gravity. I 
 did more ; I entered into the doctor's views. 
 I blamed the use of wine, and pitied mankind 
 for having unhappily acquired a taste for 
 so pernicious a beverage. Then, as my thirst 
 was not yet quenched, I filled a large goblet 
 with water, and after taking a deep draught, 
 said to my master. " Come, sir, let us quaff 
 this beneficent liquor! Let us revive in 
 your house the ancient water-taverns which 
 you regret so much ! " He applauded these 
 words, and exhorted me for a whole hour never 
 to drink anything but water. I promised 
 him, in order to accustom myself to this bever- 
 age, to imbibe a large quantity every night; 
 and, the better to keep my promise, I went 
 to bed resolved to go to the tavern every day. 
 
 The annoyance that I had suffered at the 
 grocer's did not deter me from continuing to 
 exercise my profession, and to prescribe, the 
 very next day, blood-letting and warm water. 
 As I was coming away from a poet in a 
 frenzy, I was accosted in the street by an 
 old woman, who asked me if I were a 
 physician. I replied affirmatively. " In that 
 case," she replied, " doctor, I beg you most 
 humbly to come with me. My niece was 
 taken ill yesterday, and I do not know what 
 is the matter with her." I followed the old 
 woman, who conducted me to her house, where
 
 156 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I was shown into a rather neatly furnished room, 
 where a female was in bed. I approached 
 to look at her. Her features struck me from 
 the first; and after having observed her for 
 some moments, I recognised, beyond doubt, 
 the adventuress who had so dexterously acted 
 the part of Camilla. As for her, she did not 
 seem to remember me, either overcome by 
 her sickness, or my physician's gown pre- 
 vented me from being recognised. I took 
 her by the hand to feel her pulse, and per- 
 ceived my ring on her finger. I was vastly 
 moved by the sight of a piece of property 
 that I had a right to seize, and I felt 
 a great desire to attempt to regain it; but 
 considering that these women would set up 
 a cry, and that Don Kaphael or some other 
 defender of the fair sex might rush in at 
 their call, I took good care not to yield to 
 the temptation. I reflected that it was better 
 to dissemble, and consult Fabricio on the 
 subject, and on this course I determined. 
 Meanwhile the old woman pressed me to tell 
 her from what malady her niece was suffering. 
 I was not foolish enough to confess that I had 
 not the slightest notion; on the contrary, 
 affecting the man of skill, and, copying my 
 master, I gravely said that the disorder arose 
 from the patient's want of perspiration; that 
 therefore no time should be lost in bleeding 
 her, because blood letting was the natural
 
 GIL BLAS. 157 
 
 substitute for perspiration; and I also pre- 
 scribed the warm water, that I might do 
 things methodically. 
 
 I shortened my visit as much as posible, and 
 ran to meet the son of Nunez, whom I encoun- 
 tered as he was coming out on an errand 
 for his master. I related to him my new 
 adventure, and asked if he thought I should 
 have Camilla arrested by the officers of jus- 
 tice. " By no means," he replied. " Od's 
 life, you must take care not to do that; you 
 would never get your ring again that way. 
 Those gentry don't like to make restitutions. 
 Call to mind the prison of Astorga ; your horse, 
 your money, your very clothes did they not 
 all remain in their hands ? We must rather 
 set our wits to work to get your diamond back. 
 I undertake to hit on a trick that will manage 
 it. I shall go and ponder it over on my way to 
 the hospital, where I have two words to say to 
 the steward from my master. Wait for me at 
 our tavern, and don't grow impatient ; I shall 
 soon be with you." 
 
 Nevertheless I was for more than three hours 
 at the appointed place before he arrived. I 
 did not recognise him at first. He had not only 
 changed his dress and platted his hair, but 
 a false moustache covered half his face. He 
 wore a big sword, the hilt of which must have 
 been at least three feet in circumference, and 
 walked at the head of five men, who, like him,
 
 158 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 had a determined look, thick moustaches, and 
 long rapiers. "Your servant, Seiior Gil Bias," 
 he said, addressing me ; " you behold in me an 
 alguazil after a new fashion, and in these honest 
 fellows who accompany me, officers of justice 
 of the same stamp. You have only to take us 
 to the woman who has stolen your diamond, 
 and we will make her restore it, I give you my 
 word." On hearing this, I embraced Fabricio, 
 who explained to me the stratagem which he in- 
 tended to use on my behalf ; and I assured him 
 that I vastly approved the plan he had conceived. 
 I also paid my respects to the mock officers of 
 justice. They were three servants and two 
 journeymen barbers of his acquaintance, whom 
 he had engaged to act these parts. I ordered 
 some wine to regale the whole brigade, and we 
 went all together to Camilla's residence about 
 nightfall. We knocked at the door which we 
 found closed. The old woman came and opened 
 it to us ; and taking my companions for blood- 
 hounds of the law, who were not come to the 
 house without cause, she was terribly frightened. 
 "Do not make yourself uneasy, good mother," 
 Fabricio said to her; " we are only come on a 
 little business which will soon be settled, for 
 we are expeditious people." With these words 
 we advanced, and entered the room of the sick 
 female, conducted by the old woman, who 
 walked in front of us, with a wax taper in a 
 silver candlestick. I took the candle, went to
 
 GIL BLAS. 159 
 
 the bedside, and making Camilla take par- 
 ticular notice of my features, I said to her: 
 " Wretch, recognise the too credulous Gil Bias 
 whom you deceived ! Ah, wicked woman, 
 I have found you at length, after seeking 
 you so long! The corregidor has received 
 my information, and he has ordered this algu- 
 azil to arrest you. Come, officer," I said to 
 Fabricio, " do your duty." " No need to tell 
 me to do my duty," he said, raising his voice. 
 " I well recollect that creature; these ten years 
 she has been marked with red letters in my 
 note-book. Get up, my lady," he added; 
 " dress yourself quickly ; I shall be your squire, 
 and take you to the city prison, if you have no 
 objection." 
 
 At these words, Camilla, ill as she was, per- 
 ceiving that two of his followers with big 
 moustaches were preparing to pull her out of 
 bed by main force, sat up of her own accord, 
 clasped her hands in a suppliant manner, and, 
 looking at me with eyes in which terror was 
 depicted, said, " Senor Gil Bias, have mercy on 
 me ; I beseech you by the chaste mother who 
 bore you ; I am more unfortunate than guilty ; 
 you shall be convinced of it if you will hear my 
 story." "No, Miss Camilla," I cried, "no, I 
 will not listen to you. I know too well that 
 you excel in romancing." " Well," she re- 
 plied, " since you will not let me justify myself, 
 I will return your diamond, but do not ruin
 
 160 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 me." At these words she drew the ring from 
 her finger and gave it to me. But I answered 
 that my diamond was not enough, and that I 
 required the restitution of the thousand ducats 
 which had been stolen from me in the furnished 
 lodgings. "0! as for your ducats, Senor, ask me 
 not about them. That scoundrel, Don Raphael, 
 whom I have not seen from that time to this, 
 carried them off the same night." " What, my 
 little darling," said Fabricio, " have you no- 
 thing better to say, to get out of the scrape, than 
 that you had not part of the cake ? You will 
 not get off so cheaply. Your complicity with 
 Don Raphael is enough to oblige you to give 
 an account of your past life. You must have 
 plenty of things on your conscience. You shall 
 go to prison, therefore, if you please, to make 
 a general confession. I shall also take this old 
 gentlewoman along with you," he continued; 
 " I imagine that she knows a great many 
 curious stories which the corregidor will not 
 be sorry to hear." 
 
 At these words the two women did all they 
 could to soften us. They made the room re- 
 sound with cries, complaints, and lamentations. 
 Whilst the old woman, on her knees, sometimes 
 to the alguazil, sometimes to his followers, tried 
 to excite their compassion, Camilla implored 
 me, in the most touching manner possible, to 
 save her from the hands of justice. It was a 
 sight to be seen. At last I pretended to
 
 GIL BLAS. 161 
 
 yield. " Officer," I said to the son of Nunez, 
 " since I have got my diamonl, I can over- 
 look the rest. I hope no further trouble will 
 be given to this poor woman ; I do not desire 
 the death of the sinner." " Tush," he replied, 
 " you are humane. You would not make a 
 good officer of justice. I must fulfil my duty," 
 he continued, " I have been distinctly ordered 
 to arrest these women ; the corregidor means to 
 make an example of them." " Nay, I beg you," 
 1 rejoined, " to have some regard to my request, 
 and to relax a little the discharging of your 
 duty in return for the present these ladies will 
 make you." " Oh, that is another affair," he 
 replied ; " that is what we call an appropriate 
 figure of speech. Come, let us see what they 
 have to give me?" " I have a pearl necklace," 
 said Camilla, " and ear-rings of considerable 
 value." " Yes," he interrupted roughly, " but 
 if they come from the Philippine islands, I will 
 have none of them." " You may take them 
 safely," she replied, "I warrant them real." At 
 the same time she made the old woman bring 
 a small box, from which she took out the 
 necklace and the ear-rings, which she put into 
 the alguazil's hands. Though he was no 
 better judge of precious stones than I, he 
 made no doubt that those in the ear-rings, as 
 well as the pearls, were genuine. " These 
 trinkets," he said, after having looked at them 
 carefully, "seem to me of good quality; and
 
 162 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 if you add to these the silver candlestick that 
 Sefior Gil Bias is holding, I cannot answer 
 further for my fidelity." " I do not think," 
 said I to Camilla, " that you would for a 
 trifle spoil an arrangement so much to your 
 advantage." Whilst uttering these words I 
 took out the candle, which I handed to the 
 old woman, and gave the candlestick to 
 Fabricio, who, being satisfied, probably because 
 he saw nothing more in the room which could 
 be readily carried away, said to the two 
 women : " Farewell, ladies, do not make your- 
 selves uneasy. I shall speak to the corregidor, 
 and represent you as whiter than snow. We 
 know how to turn matters as we please, and 
 we only tell him the truth when nothing 
 induces us to tell a falsehood.' 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 CONTINUATION OF THE ADVENTURE OF THE RECOVERY 
 OF THE RING. GIL BLAS BRINGS TO A CLOSE 
 HIS MEDICAL CAREER AND HIS SOJOURN IN 
 VALLADOLID. 
 
 AFTER having thus carried out the plan of Fab- 
 ricio, we left Camilla's house, congratulating 
 ourselves upon a success which exceeded our 
 expectation, for we had only reckoned on the 
 ring, whilst we took also the other things with-
 
 GIL BLAS. 163 
 
 out any ceremony. Far from feeling a scruple 
 at having plundered courtesans, we thought we 
 had done a meritorious action. " Gentlemen," 
 Fabricio said to us when we were in the street, 
 "after having done such a fine stroke of 
 business shall we separate without exulting 
 over it, glass in hand? I do not think so, 
 and it is my opinion that we should go back 
 to our tavern, and spend the night in making 
 merry. To-morrow we will sell the candle- 
 stick, the necklace, and the ear-rings, and share 
 the money like brothers ; after which each of 
 us will return home, and make the best excuse 
 he can to his master." The idea of the 
 worthy alguazil struck us as very judicious. 
 We all returned to the tavern, some consider- 
 ing that they could easily find an excuse for 
 staying out all night, and others hardly caring 
 whether they were dismissed or not. 
 
 We ordered a good supper, and sat down to 
 table with as much appetite as cheerfulness. 
 The meal was flavoured with a thousand 
 pleasant speeches. Fabricio especially, who 
 knew how to enliven conversation, greatly 
 entertained the company. I know not how 
 many witticisms flavoured with Castilian salt, 
 which is quite as good as the Attic, escaped 
 him; but as we were at the height of our 
 merriment, our pleasure was suddenly dis- 
 turbed by an unforeseen and most disagreeable 
 incident. There entered the room where we
 
 164 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 were at supper a man of pretty good appear- 
 ance, followed by two others of very sinister 
 aspect. After these three more appeared, and 
 we counted no less than a dozen who entered 
 in this manner, three at a time. They were 
 armed with carbines, swords, and bayonets. 
 We saw clearly that they were soldiers of the 
 patrol, and it was not difficult to guess their 
 intention. At first we had some thought of 
 resisting, but they instantly surrounded us. 
 and awed us, not only by their number but 
 also by their fire-arms. " Gentlemen," said 
 the captain with a jesting air, " I am aware 
 how ingeniously you have just recovered a 
 ring from the hands of a certain adventuress. 
 No doubt the joke is excellent, and deserves 
 a public recompense, which indeed you shall 
 not lose. The law, which will afford you a 
 residence in its palace, will not fail to reward 
 such a brilliant stroke of genius." We were 
 one and all disconcerted by this speech. Our 
 countenances changed, and we felt in our 
 turn the same terror with which we had 
 inspired Camilla. Nevertheless Fabricio, 
 though pale and dismayed, endeavoured to 
 justify us. " Seilor," said he, ' ; we meant no 
 ill, and consequently this little escapade ought 
 to be forgiven us." " What the deuce," 
 replied the captain in a rage, " do you call 
 this a little escapade ? Do you not know that 
 it is a hanging mattter ? Besides, no man may
 
 GIL BLAS. 165 
 
 do justice to himself, and you have carried 
 off a candlestick, a necklace, and ear-rings ; 
 and, what is undoubtedly a hanging matter, 
 in order to commit this theft you disguised 
 yourselves as officers of justice. Wretches 
 dressing themselves up as honest men to do 
 evil ! I shall think you are very lucky if you 
 are only condemned to the galleys." l When 
 he had convinced us that the affair was more 
 serious than we had first thought it, we all 
 cast ourselves at his feet, and begged him to 
 pity our youth ; but our prayers were useless. 
 Moreover, what is altogether extraordinary, 
 he rejected the proposal we made to 
 give up to him the necklace, ear-rings, and 
 candlestick ; he even refused my ring, perhaps 
 because I offered it to him before too large a 
 company. In short, he showed himself inexor- 
 able. He ordered my companions to be dis- 
 armed, and took us all together to the town 
 prison. As we went along, one of the guard 
 told me that the old woman who lived with 
 Camilla, having suspected that we were not 
 genuine runners of the law, had followed us to 
 the tavern ; and that, her suspicions being 
 there converted into certainty, she had given 
 information to the patrol, in order to be avenged 
 on us. 
 
 To begin with, they searched us thoroughly. 
 
 1 In the original a faucher le grand pr6, literally " to mow the 
 large meadow," that is, the sea swept by the big oars of the galley 
 slaves.
 
 166 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 They took away the necklace, the ear-rings, and 
 the candlestick. They also took from me my 
 ring with the ruby from the Philippine Islands, 
 which unfortunately I had in my pocket. They 
 did not even leave me the reals which I had 
 that very day received for my prescriptions, 
 which showed that the officers of justice in 
 Valladolid knew how to do their duty quite 
 as well as those of Astorga, and that these 
 gentlemen everywhere had identical manners. 
 Whilst they were easing me of my trinkets 
 and coin, the officer of the patrol who was 
 present related our adventure to the agents 
 of our spoliation. The affair seemed to them 
 so serious that the majority considered us 
 worthy of the penalty of death ; others, less 
 severe, said that we might be let off with two 
 hundred lashes each, and a few years at the 
 galleys. Awaiting the sentence of the cor- 
 regidor, we were shut up in a dungeon, where 
 we slept on straw spread almost as thickly 
 as in a stable littered for horses. We might 
 have remained there a long time, and have 
 been turned out only to proceed to the 
 galleys, if on the next day Seiior Manuel 
 Ordonnez had not heard of our scrape, and 
 resolved to get Fabricio out of prison, which 
 he could not do without delivering us all. He' 
 was a man much thought of in the town. He 
 did not spare his solicitations ; and what with 
 his own influence and that of his friends, he
 
 GIL BLAS. 167 
 
 obtained our liberation at the end of three days. 
 But we did not get out of this place as we 
 went in; the candlestick, the necklace, the 
 ear-rings, my ring and the ruby, all remained 
 behind, which reminds me of Virgil's verses, 
 beginning : Sic vos non vobis. 
 
 As soon as we were at liberty we returned to 
 our masters. Dr Sangrado received me kindly. 
 "My poor Gil Bias," he said to me, "it was 
 only this morning I heard of your misfortune. 
 I was about to make strong solicitations on 
 your behalf. You must console yourself for 
 this accident, my friend, and apply yourself 
 more than ever to medicine." I replied that 
 this was my intention ; and indeed I threw my- 
 self into it thoroughly. I was far from lacking 
 occupation. As my master had foretold, there 
 was plenty of sickness. Small -pox and malig- 
 nant fevers began to rage in the town and the 
 suburbs. All the physicians in Valladolid had 
 plenty of business, and we in particular. No 
 day passed without our seeing each eight or ten 
 patients, which implies much water drunk and 
 blood shed. But I do not know how it hap- 
 pened, they all died ; whether we treated them 
 amiss or whether their diseases were incurable. 
 We rarely made three visits to the same per- 
 son. At the second we either learned that he 
 had just been buried, or we found him at his 
 last gasp. As I was only a young physician 
 who had not had time to become inured to
 
 168 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 murder, I was troubled at these fatal events 
 which might be attributed to me. " Sir," I 
 said to Dr Sangrado one evening, " I call Heaven 
 to witness that I follow your method exactly ; 
 yet all my patients go to the other world. One 
 would think they took a pleasure in dying to 
 discredit our system. I met two to-day being 
 carried to the grave." " My lad," he replied, 
 " I could tell you pretty much the same story. 
 I have not often the satisfaction of curing those 
 who fall into my hands ; and if I were not as 
 confident about my principles as I am, I might 
 believe my remedies unsuited to nearly all the 
 diseases which come under my care." " If you 
 will take a hint, sir," I replied, " we had better 
 change our method. Let us, by way of experi- 
 ment give our patients some chemical prepara- 
 tions; let us try kermes. 1 The worst that 
 can happen will be that it produces the same 
 result as our warm water and bleedings." " I 
 would willingly make the experiment," he 
 replied, "if it were a matter of indifference. 
 But I have published a book in which I 
 extol frequent bleedings and the use of water: 2 
 
 1 Kermcs mineral, an artificial sulphurate of mercury reduced 
 to a fine powder. 
 
 2 Dr Philippe Hecquet (1661-1737), already mentioned (see Bk. 
 II., Ch. ii. page 130, Note 1), published in 1707 a volume in 
 praise of the efficacy of bleeding and taking copious draughts of 
 water in all cases of illness. He, besides, attacked the physicians 
 and surgeons in Le Brigandage de la Mddecine, etc., and in Le 
 Brigandage de la Chimrgie, etc., which saw the light in the years 
 1732 and 1 738, His Brigandage de la Pharmacie appeared in 1 740.
 
 GIL BLAS. 169 
 
 would you have me traduce my own work? " 
 "Oh, you are right," I replied ; " we must not 
 afford your enemies such a triumph over you. 
 They would say that you had discovered your 
 mistake, and would ruin your reputation. 
 Rather perish the people, the nobility, and the 
 clergy ! Let us then continue our own way. 
 After all, our colleagues, in spite of their aver- 
 sion to bleeding, cannot work greater miracles 
 than we; and I believe that their drugs are as 
 efficacious as our specifics." 
 
 We went to work afresh, and in less than 
 six weeks we made as many widows and orphans 
 as the siege of Troy. It seemed as though the 
 plague were in Yalladolid, so many funerals 
 were there. Every day some father came to the 
 house to call us to account for a son we had 
 robbed him of, or some uncle who reproached 
 us with the death of his nephew. As for the 
 nephews and sons whose uncles and fathers we 
 had despatched by our remedies, they did not 
 make their appearance. The husbands, too, 
 were very discreet ; they did not wrangle over 
 the loss of their wives; but the afflicted sufferers 
 whose reproaches we had to endure were oc- 
 casionally quite savage in their grief. They 
 called us blockheads, assassins, and did not 
 measure their terms. I was affected by their 
 epithets ; but my master, who was used to it, 
 listened to them with the utmost indifference. 
 I might have grown as callous to insults as
 
 170 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 he was, if Heaven, doubtless to rid the sick 
 people of Valladolid of one of their scourges, 
 had not brought to pass an incident that gave 
 me a disgust for medicine, which I was prac- 
 tising with so little success. I shall faithfully 
 set forth the details, even if my readers should 
 laugh at me. 
 
 There was in our neighbourhood a tennis- 
 court, 1 where the idlers of the town assembled 
 daily. Among them was one of those pro- 
 fessional bullies who set themselves up for 
 umpires, and decide gambling quarrels. He 
 was a native of Biscay, and called himself 
 Don Rodrigo de Mondragon. He seemed 
 about thirty years old, was of middling 
 height, but lean and wiry, with two little 
 sparkling eyes, rolling in his head, and appear- 
 ing to threaten all on whom they looked. He 
 had a very broad nose, coming down over a red 
 moustache, which curled upwards to his temples. 
 His phraseology was so rough and abrupt that 
 he had only to speak to inspire you with terror. 
 This racket-breaker had become the tyrant of 
 the tennis-court. He decided imperiously the 
 disputes which arose amongst the players ; and 
 no man dared appeal from his decisions unless 
 he was prepared to receive a challenge from 
 him on the next day. Don Rodrigo, such as I 
 have drawn him, and the "Don" which he 
 
 1 In the original tripot, a word now only used for a low gamb- 
 ling house.
 
 GIL BLAS. 171 
 
 prefixed to his name did not prevent him from 
 being low-born, contrived to make a tender 
 impression on the mistress of the tennis-court. 
 She was a woman of about forty, rich, rather 
 pleasant, and in the fifteenth month of her 
 widowhood. I know not how he succeeded 
 in pleasing her; it was certainly not by his 
 beauty. It must have been by that indescrib- 
 able something which cannot be expressed. 
 However that might be, she took a fancy to 
 him, and intended to marry him. But as she 
 was preparing to bring this matter to a con- 
 clusion, she fell ill; and, unfortunately for her. 
 I became her physician. Even if her illness had 
 not been a putrid fever, my prescriptions would 
 have sufficed to make it dangerous. In four 
 days the tennis-court was in mourning. Its 
 mistress went the way of all my patients, and 
 her relatives took possession of her estate. 
 Don Kodrigo, in despair at losing his mistress, 
 or rather the hope of a very advantageous 
 marriage, was not content with cursing and 
 reviling me ; he swore that he would run me 
 through the body, and make an end of me the 
 first time he met me. A good-natured neigh- 
 bour apprised me of this vow, and the know- 
 ledge I had of Mondragon, instead of making 
 me despise the warning, filled me with anxiety 
 and dismay. I dared not go out through fear 
 of meeting that confounded fellow, and I con- 
 tinually fancied that I saw him come raging
 
 172 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 into the house. I could not enjoy one moment's 
 repose. This detached me from the practice of 
 medicine, and I thought of nothing but to get 
 rid of my anxiety. I resumed my embroidered 
 suit, and after having taken leave of my master, 
 who could not persuade me to stay, I left the 
 town at daybreak, not without a fear of being 
 waylaid by Don Kodrigo. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 BY WHAT ROAD GIL BLAS LEFT VALLADOLID, AND 
 WHAT SORT OF MAN JOINED HIM BY THE WAY. 
 
 I WALKED very fast, and looked behind me from 
 time to time, to see if the terrible Biscayan 
 were following me. My imagination was so 
 engrossed by this man, that I took every tree 
 and bush for him. I felt my heart throb each 
 moment with fright. But after having gone 
 above a league, I felt reassured, and went on 
 more gently towards Madrid, whither I proposed 
 to direct my steps. I should have left Valladolid 
 without reluctance, if I had not regretted my 
 separation from Fabricio, my dear Py lades, to 
 whom I could not even bid adieu. I was not 
 sorry to renounce physic. On the contrary I 
 prayed Heaven to forgive me for having prac- 
 tised it. I none the less counted the coin in
 
 GIL BLAS. 173 
 
 my pockets, though it was the wages of my 
 assassinations. I was somewhat like those 
 women who though they have ceased to lead a 
 gay life, nevertheless always carefully retain the 
 wages of sin. I had in reals pretty nearly five 
 ducats : that was all I possessed. I expected 
 with these to reach Madrid, where I did not 
 doubt I should find some good place. More- 
 over, I passionately longed to be in that magni- 
 ficent city, which had been extolled to me as an 
 epitome of all the wonders of the world, 
 
 As I was recalling all that I had heard in its 
 praise, and enjoying its pleasures beforehand, I 
 heard the voice of a man walking behind me, 
 and singing loudly. He had a leathern wallet 
 on his back, a guitar suspended from his neck, 
 and a rather long sword by his side. He 
 walked so briskly that he soon overtook me. 
 He was one of the journeymen barbers with 
 whom I had been in prison for the adventure of 
 the ring. We at once recognised each other, 
 though we each appeared in a different dress, 
 and were much surprised at our meeting on the 
 high road. I expressed my pleasure at having 
 him for a travelling companion, and he seemed 
 on his side extremely glad to see me again. I 
 told him why I was leaving Valladolid; and he, 
 to be equally confidential with me, mentioned 
 to me that he had quarrelled with his master, 
 and that they had wished each other good-bye 
 for ever. " If I had liked to remain longer at
 
 174 THE ADVENTUEES OF 
 
 Valladolid," he added, "I could as easily 
 have found employment in ten shops as in 
 one ; for I venture to say, without vanity, that 
 there is no barber in Spain who knows better 
 than I how to shave with the grain and against 
 the grain, 1 or how to curl a moustache. But I 
 could no longer resist the vehement desire to 
 return to my own country, which I left ten 
 years ago. I want to breathe my native air, 
 and see how my parents are getting on. I 
 shall be with them the day after to-morrow; 
 for the place where they live, Olmedo, is a large 
 village, this side of Segovia." 
 
 I determined to accompany this barber as far 
 as his home, and then to proceed to Segovia in 
 search of an opportunity of reaching Madrid. 
 We began conversing of various matters on our 
 way. The young fellow was good humoured, 
 with a pleasant wit. After an hour's talk he 
 asked me if I were hungry. I told him he 
 should see it at the first inn. "Before we 
 get there," he said, " we had better make a 
 halt; I have some breakfast in my wallet. 
 When I travel I always take care to have 
 provisions ; I do not load myself with a coat, 
 linen, and other useless luggage ; I want 
 nothing superfluous, and put in my wallet only 
 eatables, my razors, and a soap-ball ; and that 
 is all I want." I commended his prudence, and 
 willingly consented to the halt which he sug- 
 
 1 In the original a poil et a contrepoil.
 
 GIL BLAS. 175 
 
 - 
 
 gested. I was hungry, and ready for a good 
 meal, and after what he had said I began to 
 look for it. We turned aside a little from the 
 highway, and sat down on the grass. There 
 my barber friend spread out his victuals, con- 
 sisting of five or six onions, with some scraps of 
 bread and cheese ; but what he brought out as 
 the best of his store was a small leather bottle, 
 full, he told me, of delicate and choice wine. 
 Though the food was not very savoury, our 
 hunger did not permit either of us to be dainty; 
 and we also emptied the bottle which contained 
 about two pints of a kind of wine of which he 
 need not have boasted. After that we rose, 
 and resumed our journey very cheerfully. The 
 barber, who had been told by Fabricio that I 
 had met with some very remarkable adventures, 
 begged to hear them from my own mouth. 
 I thought I could refuse nothing to a man who 
 had regaled me so well, and I gratified his 
 curiosity. Then I asked him, in return for 
 my compliance, also to tell me the history 
 of his life. " Oh, as for my history," he 
 replied, "it is hardly worth hearing; it con- 
 tains but very common occurrences. Never- 
 theless," he added, " as we have nothing better 
 to do, I shall relate it to you, such as it is." 
 Whereupon he told his story pretty nearly in 
 these words.
 
 176 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I 
 
 CHAPTEK VII. 
 
 THE JOURNEYMAN BARBER'S STORY. 
 
 FERDINAND PERES DE LA FUENTA, my grandfather 
 (I am beginning the tale rather early), after 
 having been for fifty years a barber in the village 
 of Olmedo, died, and left four sons. The 
 eldest, named Nicholas, took the shop, and 
 succeeded him in the business. Bertrand, the 
 next, having an inclination for trade, became 
 a mercer; and Thomas, the third, turned 
 schoolmaster. As for the fourth, who was 
 called Pedro, feeling himself born for polite 
 literature, he sold a small piece of land which 
 was his share of his patrimony, and went to 
 Madrid, where he hoped one day to distinguish 
 himself by his erudition and his intelligence. 
 The other three brothers did not separate. They 
 established themselves at Olmedo, and married 
 some farmers' daughters, who brought them not 
 much property, but, to make up for it, plenty of 
 children. They got babies as though in com- 
 petition with each other My mother, the 
 barber's wife, for her share, brought six into the 
 world during the first five years of her marriage, 
 and I was one of them. My father taught me 
 to shave betimes ; and when I was fifteen he 
 put on my shoulders this wallet, fastened a 
 long sword round my waist, and said : "Go,
 
 GIL BLAS. 177 
 
 Diego, now you are in a way to earn your 
 living; go and see the world. You need 
 travel to give you a polish, and to improve 
 you in your art. Off with you, do not come 
 back to Olrnedo until you have made the tour 
 of Spain. Let me hear nothing of you until 
 then ! " At these words he embraced me 
 affectionately, and shoved me out of the house. 
 That was my father's farewell. My mother, 
 whose manners were less rough, seemed more 
 affected by my departure. She shed a few 
 tears, and even by stealth slipped a ducat into 
 my hand. Thus, then, did I leave Olmedo, 
 and took the road to Segovia. 1 had not gone 
 a couple of hundred yards before I stopped to 
 examine my knapsack. I wanted to see what 
 was inside, and to know exactly what I pos- 
 sessed. I found two razors in a case, which 
 looked as if they had shaved ten generations, 
 so worn were they ; a leathern strap to set them 
 on; and a piece of soap. Besides this there was 
 a coarse shirt, quite new, an old pair of shoes of 
 my father's, and, what pleased me more than 
 all the rest, a score of reals wrapped in a linen 
 rag. This was my whole fortune. You may 
 conclude that Master Nicholas the barber was 
 placing a good deal of reliance on my dexterity 
 when he sent me adrift with so slender a pro- 
 vision. Nevertheless, the possession of a ducat 
 and twenty reals did not fail to turn the head of 
 a young fellow who had never had any money.
 
 178 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I thought my funds inexhaustible ; and, trans- 
 ported with joy, I pursued my journey, looking 
 down every moment at the hilt of my sword, 
 of which the blade was knocking against my 
 calf at every step, or getting entangled between 
 my legs. 
 
 In the evening I arrived at the village of 
 Ataquines with a very keen appetite. I put 
 up at the inn, and as if I had been in a 
 position to spend money, I called for my supper 
 with an air of authority. The landlord looked 
 at me for some time, and seeing whom he had 
 to deal with, said civilly, " All right, my 
 worthy master, you shall be satisfied ; we will 
 treat you like a lord." With this assurance he 
 showed me into a little room, where, a quarter 
 of an hour later, he brought me a stew made of 
 torn cat, which I ate as eagerly as if it had been 
 hare or rabbit. This excellent stew was washed 
 down by a wine which, it was told me, was so 
 good that the king could drink no better. I 
 found out, however, that it was sour ; but that 
 did not prevent me from doing it as much 
 honour as I had done to the torn cat. The 
 next thing needed to treat me like a lord 
 was to show me a bed more suited to drive 
 sleep away than to invite it. Imagine a very 
 narrow truckle bed, so short that I could not 
 stretch my legs, small as I was. In place 
 of mattress and feather bed, there was but a 
 simple straw pallet, covered with a doubled-up
 
 GIL BLAS. 179 
 
 sheet, which had served perhaps a hundred 
 travellers since it was last washed. Neverthe- 
 less, in the bed I have described, my stomach 
 full of the stew and the delicious wine which my 
 landlord had given me, I slept soundly, thanks 
 to my youth and a good constitution, and 
 spent the night without indigestion. 
 
 On the following day, when I had breakfasted 
 and paid well for my good cheer, I went without 
 stopping to Segovia. I had hardly got there 
 when I was lucky enough to get employed 
 in a shop for my board and lodging ; but I only 
 stayed there six months. A journeyman barber 
 whose acquaintance I had made, and who 
 wished to go to Madrid, led me astray, and I 
 set out with him for that city. There I had no 
 difficulty in getting a place on the same condi- 
 tions as at Segovia, in one of the most frequented 
 shops. The fact is, it was near the church of 
 the Holy Cross, and through the proximity of 
 the Prince's Theatre, drew much custom. My 
 master, two strapping fellows, and myself, were 
 hardly able to attend to all who came to be 
 shaved ; amongst whom there were men of all 
 conditions, and actors and authors as well. One 
 day two persons of this latter description hap- 
 pened to meet there. They began talking about 
 the poets and poems of the day, and I heard them 
 mention the name of my uncle, which made me 
 pay more attention to what they were saying. 
 " Don Juan de Zabaleta," said one, " is an 
 author on whom, it seems to me, the public
 
 180 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 cannot rely. He is cold, without fancy: his last 
 piece has greatly lowered his reputation." "And, 
 pray, has not Luis Velez de Guevara, 1 " said 
 the other, " published a fine work ! Was ever 
 anything more wretched?" They mentioned 
 a great many more poets, whose names I have 
 forgotten ; I only remember that they spoke 
 very ill of them. As for my uncle they named 
 him with more favour; both agreed that he had 
 some merit. " Yes," said one, " Don Pedro de 
 la Fuenta is an excellent author. His books 
 contain delicate raillery, mingled with learning. 
 They are piquant and full of wit. No wonder 
 he is valued by court and city, and that more 
 than one nobleman gives him a pension." 2 
 " He has enjoyed a pretty large income for 
 many years," said the other. " He boards and 
 lodges at the Duke of Medina Celi, is at no 
 expense, and must be very well off." 
 
 I did not lose a word of what these poets said 
 about my uncle. We had heard in the family 
 that he had made a noise in Madrid by his 
 writings. More than one person passing- 
 through Olmedo had told us so; but as he 
 abstained from letting us hear from, him, and 
 
 1 Zabaleta, who flourished from 1653 to 1667, was the author of 
 Moral Problems and Famous Errors ; his best work is called Feast 
 Days at Madrid, a satirical sketch of the manners of the time. 
 He also wrote many dramas. Guevara, who has been called the 
 Spanish Scarron, died in 1644. 
 
 2 It is said that Lesage meant in his portrait of Pedro de la 
 Fuenta to have a hit at Fontenelle, who was receiving a pension 
 from the Regent.
 
 GIL BLAS. 181 
 
 seemed to have no longer any attachment for 
 us, we on our side felt completely indifferent 
 about him. However, the ties of blood cannot 
 be gainsaid, and as soon as I heard that he 
 was in good circumstances, and knew where 
 he lived, I was tempted to go and call upon 
 him. One thing embarrassed me. The 
 authors had called him Don Pedro. This 
 " Don " gave me some uneasiness, and I feared 
 it might be some other poet, and not my 
 uncle. This apprehension, however, did not 
 restrain me ; I thought he might have become 
 ennobled as well as a wit, and determined to pay 
 him a visit. Accordingly, with my master's 
 permission, I one day dressed myself as well 
 as I could, and marched out of the shop, not 
 a little proud of being the nephew of a man 
 who had acquired such a reputation by his 
 genius. Barbers, of all people in the world, 
 are not the most diffident. I began to have 
 a great opinion of myself; and, walking with 
 a haughty air, I inquired for the palace of the 
 Duke of Medina Celi. I presented myself at 
 the gate, and said that I wished to speak to 
 Seiior Don Pedro de la Fuenta. The porter 
 pointed with his finger to a little staircase at 
 the bottom of the court-yard, and said, " Go 
 up there, and knock at the first door on your 
 right." I did as he told me, and knocked at a 
 door. It was opened by a young man, whom I 
 asked whether Seiior Don Pedro de la Fuenta
 
 182 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 lived there. " Yes," he answered, " but 
 you cannot see him just now." " I should 
 like to speak to him," I said; "I bring him 
 news of his family." " If you brought him 
 news of the Pope, I could not take you into 
 his chamber just now; he is composing, and 
 when he is at work we must take care not to 
 disturb him. He will not be visible till noon : 
 take a turn, and come back about that time." 
 
 I went away, and walked through the town 
 all morning, incessantly thinking what sort 
 of a reception my uncle would give me. 
 " I fancy," said I to myself, " he will be 
 delighted to see me." I judged of his feelings 
 by my own, and prepared , myself for a very 
 touching interview. I returned to his rooms 
 with all haste, at the hour mentioned. " You 
 are just in time," said his servant; " my master 
 is about to go out. Wait here a moment ; I 
 will let him know you are come." With these 
 words he left me in the antechamber. He re- 
 turned almost immediately, and took me to his 
 master, in whose face I at once observed a family 
 likeness. He was the very image of my uncle 
 Thomas, they were so like each other. I bowed 
 with profound respect, and introduced myself 
 as the son of Master Nicholas de la Fuenta, the 
 barber of Olmedo. I also told him that I had 
 been for three weeks exercising my father's call- 
 ing in Madrid as a journeyman, and that I in- 
 tended to make the tour of Spain, to complete
 
 GIL BLAS. 183 
 
 my education. Whilst I spoke I saw that my 
 uncle was buried in thoughts. He apparently 
 hesitated whether he should disown me for his 
 nephew, or get rid of me in a dexterous 
 manner. He chose the latter course. He 
 affected a smiling face, and said : " Well, friend, 
 how are your father and your uncles ? How are 
 they getting on ? " Thereupon I began to in- 
 form him of the rapid increase of our family, gave 
 him the names of all the male and female chil- 
 dren, and included in my list even their god- 
 fathers and godmothers. He did not seem to be 
 deeply interested in these details; but coming to 
 the point he said : " Diego, I greatly approve 
 of your travelling about to perfect yourself in 
 your profession, and I advise you not to stay 
 any longer in Madrid; for it is a pernicious 
 place for youth, and you may be ruined here, my 
 lad. It will be better for you to go to the 
 other towns in the kingdom, where people's 
 morals are not so much corrupted. Go," he 
 continued. " and when you are ready to depart 
 come and see me again; I will give you a 
 pistole to help you to make your tour of 
 Spain." With these words he gently turned 
 me out of the room, and sent me about my 
 business. 
 
 I had not the sense to perceive that he 
 wished only to get rid of me. I went back to 
 the shop and gave my master an account of the 
 visit which I had just made. He fathomed the
 
 184 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 intention of Don Pedro no better than I, and 
 said to me : "I am not of your uncle's opinion ; 
 instead of advising you to travel about, I think 
 he ought rather to urge you to stay in town. 
 He visits so many persons of quality that he 
 might easily get you a situation in some great 
 family and put you in the way of gradually 
 making a large fortune." Struck with this 
 speech, which summoned up so many flattering 
 images, I called two days later on my uncle, 
 and proposed that he should use his influence 
 to get me a situation with one of the court 
 nobles. But the proposal was not to his taste. 
 A vain man, having free access to the great, 
 and dining with them every day, would not 
 have liked to see his nephew at the servant's 
 table whilst he was at the table of the master. 
 Little Diego would have made Sefior Don 
 Pedro blush. Therefore he did not fail to 
 dismiss me, and that in a very rude manner. 
 "So, you little rascal," said he in a rage, " you 
 want to give up your profession. Be off, I 
 abandon you to those persons who give you such 
 pernicious advice. Get out of my room, and 
 never set your foot here again, or I will have 
 you chastised as you deserve." I was absolutely 
 dazed at these words, and still more at the 
 tone assumed by my uncle. I retired with 
 tears in my eyes, much hurt by his harsh 
 behaviour towards me. However, as I have 
 always been quick and proud by nature, I soon
 
 GIL BLAS. 185 
 
 dried my tears, even passed from grief to 
 indignation, and resolved to take no further 
 notice of this unworthy relative, having hitherto 
 got on very well without him. 
 
 I thought of nothing now save the cultivation 
 of my talent, and I applied myself to business. 
 I shaved all day ; and in the evening, by way 
 of recreation, I learned to play the guitar. My 
 master on that instrument was an old gentleman- 
 in-waiting whom I shaved, and who taught me 
 music, which he understood thoroughly. In 
 fact he had formerly been a chorister in a 
 cathedral. His name was Marcos de Obregon. 1 
 He was a discreet man, with as much intelli- 
 gence as experience, and loved me as if I had 
 been his son. He was gen tleman-in- waiting to 
 a physician's wife, who lived about thirty yards 
 from our house. I went to him towards even- 
 ing, as soon as I had clone my work, and sitting 
 on the threshold of the door we used both to pro- 
 duce a concert not displeasing to the neighbours. 
 Not that we had very charming voices, but as 
 we thrummed upon our instruments, we both 
 regularly accompanied it with singing, and 
 that was sufficient to please our audience. In 
 particular we diverted Donna Mergelina, 2 the 
 
 1 This is the name of the hero whose adventures Vicente 
 Espinel (1551-1630) has described in Spanish, and from whom 
 Voltaire thought Lesage had borrowed his Gil Bias. The INTRO- 
 DUCTORY NOTICE tells the obligations of Lesage to the Spanish author. 
 
 2 Llo rente says this lady ought to be called Marcelina ; but in 
 Espinel's Escudero Marcos de Obregon, the name is given as Lesage 
 wrote it.
 
 186 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 physician's wife ; she used to come into the 
 passage to hear us, and sometimes made 
 us begin over again the airs she liked best. 
 Her husband did not prevent her amusing 
 herself in this way. He was a man who, 
 though a Spaniard, and already in years, was 
 by no means jealous; besides, his profession 
 entirely engrossed him, and when he came 
 home in the evening, worn out with his visits, 
 he went to bed early, without troubling himself 
 about the attention his wife paid to our concerts. 
 Perhaps he did not think them capable of pro- 
 ducing any dangerous impressions. Moreover, 
 he did not imagine that he had the slightest 
 ground for apprehension. Mergelina was a 
 young and handsome woman, it is true, but of 
 so fierce a virtue that she could not so much 
 as endure the looks of men. The doctor, 
 therefore, did not begrudge her a pastime 
 which seemed to him innocent and decorous, 
 and allowed us to sing as much as we pleased. 
 One evening, as I came to the physician's 
 door, intending to enjoy myself as usual, I 
 found old Marcos awaiting me. He took 
 me by the hand, and said that he wanted to 
 take a little walk with me, before beginning 
 our concert. At the same time he drew me 
 into a side street, where, seeing that he could 
 talk to me freely, he said with a sad air, 
 " Diego, my lad, I have something particular 
 to tell you. I much fear, my child, that we
 
 GIL BLAS. 187 
 
 shall both of us repent amusing ourselves every 
 evening by singing together at my master's 
 door. I certainly like you very much ; I am 
 glad I have taught you to play the guitar, and 
 to sing; but if I had foreseen the misfortune 
 which threatens us, please God I would have 
 chosen some other spot to give you lessons in." 
 These words frightened me. I begged him to 
 explain himself more clearly, and tell me what 
 we had to fear, for I was not the man to brave 
 peril, and had not yet made the tour of Spain. 
 "I will tell you," he replied, "what it con- 
 cerns you to know, that you may comprehend 
 the danger we are in. When I entered the 
 doctor's service," he continued, " and that is a 
 year ago, he said to me one morning, after 
 having taken me into his wife's presence : 
 ' Marcos, there is your mistress ; this is the lady 
 you are to accompany everywhere.' I admired 
 Donna Mergelina ; I thought her marvellously 
 beautiful, strikingly handsome, and I was par- 
 ticularly charmed by her pleasant bearing. ' Sir, ' 
 I replied to the physician, ' I am too happy to 
 have to serve so charming a lady.' My reply 
 displeased Mergelina, who said bluntly: 'What 
 is the matter with the man? I think he is 
 making too free. I want no compliments ! ' 
 These words, coming from such lovely lips, 
 surprised me very much. I could not reconcile 
 this rustic and unpolished form of speech with 
 the gentle appearance of my mistress. But her
 
 188 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 husband was accustomed to it, and congratu- 
 lated himself on having a wife of such an eccen- 
 tric disposition. ' Marcos,' he said to me, ' my 
 wife is a prodigy of virtue.' Then, seeing that 
 she was putting on her cloak, and preparing to 
 go to mass, he bade me accompany her to church. 
 We were no sooner in the street than we met 
 several gentlemen who were naturally enough 
 struck by Mergelina's appearance, and who paid 
 her a great many compliments as they passed. 
 She replied to them, but you cannot imagine 
 how silly and ridiculous her answers were. They 
 were quite astonished, being unable to imagine 
 that there was a woman in the world who would 
 take it amiss being complimented. 'Madam,' I 
 said at first, ' pay no attention to the speeches 
 addressed to you ; it is better to keep silent 
 than to reply with asperity.' ' No, no,' she 
 answered, ' I will teach these insolent fellows 
 that I am not the sort of woman to let them 
 treat me with disrespect.' Indeed, she uttered 
 so many impolite things that I could not help 
 telling her my mind, at the risk of displeasing 
 her. I told her, of course as delicately as I 
 could, that she was acting unnaturally, and was 
 marring a thousand good qualities by her angry 
 mood; that a woman of gentle and polished man- 
 ners might inspire love without being handsome, 
 whilst a lovely lady would become an object of 
 contempt if she were not gentle and polite. To 
 those arguments I added many others of the like
 
 GIL BLAS. 189 
 
 nature, with the sole desire to mend her man- 
 ners. After having moralised at some length, I 
 was afraid that my frankness would excite my 
 mistress's anger, and call forth some unpleasant 
 reply. But she did not object to my remon- 
 strance. She contented herself with rendering it 
 of no avail; and so she did with the advice I was 
 foolish enough to offer on the following days. 
 
 "I grew weary of pointing out her faults to 
 no purpose, and abandoned her to the fierce- 
 ness of her mood. However, would you be- 
 lieve it, this savage mind, this haughty woman, 
 is entirely changed within the last two months ? 
 She has a kind word for everybody, and her 
 manners are very pleasant. It is no longer the 
 same Mergelina who returned such silly answers 
 to the compliments the men paid to her. She 
 has grown sensitive to praise ; she even likes to 
 be called handsome and to be told that a man 
 cannot behold her with impunity. Flatteries 
 please her; she is at present like any other 
 woman. The change is almost incomprehen- 
 sible ; and what will still more surprise you is 
 that you are the author of such a great miracle. 
 Yes, dear Diego," continued Marcos, " it is you 
 who have thus transformed Donna Mergelina ; 
 you have made a lamb of this tigress; in a word, 
 you have attracted her notice. I have per- 
 ceived it more than once ; and I know nothing 
 about the sex if she is not desperately in love 
 with you. That, my dear child, is the sad
 
 190 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 news I had to communicate the awkward 
 dilemma in which we find ourselves." 
 
 "I do not see," said I to the old man, "so 
 great a reason for sorrow, nor that it is a mis- 
 fortune for me to be loved by a pretty woman." 
 "Ah, Diego," he replied, "you reason like a 
 young man. You see only the bait without 
 perceiving the hook. You look only to the 
 pleasure, whilst I perceive all the unpleasant 
 consequences. Everything comes to light in 
 time ; and if you continue singing at our door, 
 you will stimulate the passion of Mergelina, 
 who, possibly losing all command over herself, 
 will betray her weakness to Dr Oloroso, her 
 husband. This husband, who is now so easy, 
 because he thinks he has no cause to be jealous, 
 will become mad with rage; he will avenge 
 himself on her, and he may perhaps play you 
 and me a very bad trick." " Well/' I replied, 
 " Seiior Marcos, I yield to your reasons, and 
 submit myself to your counsels. Tell me how 
 I ought to act to prevent such a sad misfortune." 
 "We have only to discontinue our concerts," 
 he rejoined. " Cease to show yourself to my 
 mistress. When she sees you no more she 
 will recover her peace of mind. Stay within 
 doors ; I will come to you, and we will play 
 on the guitar without any danger." " With 
 all my heart," said I, " and I promise never to 
 set foot in your house again." And in fact I 
 resolved to sing no more at the door of the
 
 GIL BLAS. 191 
 
 physician's house ; but to keep thenceforth 
 within the shop, since my attractions as a man 
 were so dangerous to look at. 
 
 However, honest Marcos, with all his pru- 
 dence, discovered a few days later that the 
 plan he had conceived to extinguish the flame 
 of Donna Mergelina, produced an exactly op- 
 posite result. That lady, not hearing me sing 
 for two nights together, asked him why we had 
 discontinued our concerts, and why she saw me 
 no more. He replied that I was so busy I had 
 not a moment to give to pleasure. She seemed 
 satisfied with this excuse, and for three days 
 more she bore my absence with fortitude; 
 but at the end of that time my lady lost all 
 patience, and said to her attendant : " You are 
 deceiving me, Marcos ; Diego has not ceased 
 his visits without a cause. There is some 
 mystery which I mean to unravel. Speak, 
 I command you; hide nothing." "Madam," 
 he replied, making use of another subterfuge, 
 "since you wish to know the truth, I will 
 tell you that, after our concerts, he has often 
 found the table cleared at home, and he can- 
 not any longer run the risk of having to go 
 to bed without his supper." "What! without 
 his supper ! " she cried in a tone of annoyance ; 
 " why did you not tell me that before ? To go 
 to bed without supper ! Poor child ! go and 
 see him at once, and let him come again this 
 evening. He shall not return any more with
 
 192 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 an empty stomach. There shall always be a 
 dish of something for him." 
 
 " What do I hear," said her attendant, pre- 
 tending to be surprised at this speech ; " good 
 Heaven, what a change. Is it you, madam, 
 who speak like this? Since when have you 
 been so compassionate and considerate?" 
 " Since you have been living in the house," 
 she replied sharply, " or rather since you con- 
 demned my scornful bearing, and laboured to 
 soften the acrimony of my temper. But alas ! " 
 she added in a melting tone, "I have gone 
 from one extreme to another. Instead of being 
 proud and unfeeling as I was, I have become 
 too gentle and too susceptible; I love your 
 young friend Diego, in spite of all my efforts to 
 the contrary; and his absence, far from weaken- 
 ing my love, seems to give it new strength." 
 "Is it possible," replied the old man, "that a 
 lad who has neither a handsome countenance 
 nor figure can be the object of so violent a 
 passion? I could make allowance for your 
 sentiments if they had been inspired by 
 
 some nobleman of brilliant merit " 
 
 " Ah Marcos," interrupted Mergelina, " I am 
 not like the rest of my sex; or rather, in 
 spite of your long experience, you hardly know 
 women if you believe that merit determines 
 their choice. Judging by myself we become 
 entangled without deliberation. Love is a 
 disorder of the mind which draws us towards 
 an object, and attaches us in spite of ourselves.
 
 GIL BLAS. 193 
 
 It is a malady which attacks us like madness 
 does the brutes. Cease, therefore, to tell me that 
 Diego is not worthy of my tenderness. It is 
 enough that I love him to make me invest him 
 with a thousand good qualities which escape 
 your notice, and which he possibly does riot 
 possess. In vain you tell me that his features 
 and his stature do not deserve the least atten- 
 tion ; to me he seems made to charm, and 
 lovelier than the day. Besides, his voice has 
 a sweetness which thrills me, and in my opinion 
 he plays on the guitar with quite a peculiar 
 grace." "But, Madam," replied Marcos, "do 
 you consider who Diego is ? His mean station. 
 . . . ." " My own is very little better," she 
 interrupted again, " and even if I were a lady 
 of rank, that would make no difference." 
 
 The result of this conversation was that 
 Marcos, concluding he should make no impres- 
 sion on his mistress's mind, ceased to oppose her 
 infatuation, as the skilful pilot yields to the 
 tempest which carries him out to sea instead of 
 to the harbour he intends to reach. He did more : 
 to satisfy his mistress, he came to me, took me 
 aside, and after relating what had passed 
 between him and her, said "You see, Diego, 
 that we cannot but continue our concerts at 
 Mergelina's door. My friend, it is necessary for 
 the lady to see you again, or else she might 
 commit some foolish act which would injure 
 her reputation more than anything." I did
 
 194 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 not affect to be hard-hearted. I replied to 
 Marcos that I would call on him in the 
 evening with my guitar, and that he might take 
 this pleasant news to his mistress. This he did 
 not fail to do ; and it was for the impassioned 
 and enamoured lady a subject of great rejoicing 
 to learn that she should have the pleasure of 
 seeing and hearing me that very night. 
 
 A very unpleasant accident, however, nearly 
 frustrated this expectation. I could not leave 
 my master's before night, and, for my sins, 
 it was very dark. I went groping along the 
 street, and had perhaps gone half the way, 
 when from a window I was crowned with the 
 contents of a vessel, which did not exactly tickle 
 my olfactory nerves. I may safely say that I 
 lost none of it, so well was it directed ! l In 
 this condition I did not know what to do : to 
 return would have been a nice exhibition for 
 my comrades, and would have exposed me to all 
 sorts of coarse jokes. Then, again, to go on to 
 Mergelina in this pretty state also hurt my 
 feelings. Nevertheless, I resolved to make for 
 the physician's house. At the door I found the 
 
 1 This was no extraordinary occurrence in Madrid. In the 
 Voyages faits en divers temps en Espagne . . . et ailleurs, 1699, it 
 is stated : " 11 fait mauvais aller le soir par les rues de Madrid, et 
 comme il n'y a pas de lieux communs, chacun a un grand pot oil il 
 fait toutes ses ordures, qu'on tient dans les greniers, que les valets vont 
 vider le soir en criant ' Agua va,' c'est a dire, gare Veau" Aarsens 
 van Sommelsdyk in the 20th chapter of his Voyage d' Espagne says 
 also : Depuis qu'il est jour jusqu ' d dix heures du soir, il est 
 defendu, sous peine pfauniaire, de rien verser.
 
 GTL BLAS. 195 
 
 old attendant waiting for me. He told me that 
 Dr Oloroso had just gone to bed, and that we 
 might amuse ourselves as we liked. I replied 
 that I must first cleanse my clothes ; and with 
 that I related my mishap. He seemed to feel 
 for me, and led me into the room where his 
 mistress was. As soon as this lady heard what 
 had happened, and saw the state I was in, she 
 condoled with me as though the greatest mis- 
 fortunes had overtaken me ; then, apostro- 
 phising the person who had thus favoured 
 me, she uttered a thousand imprecations. 
 "But, Madam," Marcos said to her, "moderate 
 your rage. Consider that this is the mere 
 result of an accident. You should not resent 
 it so deeply." " Why," she cried warmly, 
 " why should I not resent deeply the wrong 
 done to this little lamb, this dove without gall, 
 who does not even complain of the outrage he 
 has suffered ? Alas! Would that I were a man 
 at this moment, that I might avenge him ! " 
 
 She uttered a vast number of expressions 
 besides, denoting the excess of her love, which 
 she manifested no less by her actions; for whilst 
 Marcos was engaged in rubbing me dry with a 
 towel, she ran to her room, and brought 
 thence a box full of all sorts of perfumes. She 
 burned odoriferous drugs, and perfumed my 
 clothes with them, after which she sprinkled 
 them all over with various essences. The 
 fumigation and aspersion ended, this charitable
 
 196 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 lady went herself into the kitchen, and fetched 
 bread, wine, and some slices of roast mutton, 
 which she had put aside for me. She made me 
 eat, and, taking pleasure in waiting on me, 
 sometimes carved for me, and then filled my 
 glass, in spite of all that Marcos and I could 
 do to prevent her. When I had finished 
 supper, the gentlemen of the orchestra prepared 
 to attune their voices to their guitars. We 
 performed a concert which charmed Mergelina. 
 To be sure we chose those airs the words 
 whereof flattered her love ; and I admit that as 
 I sang I now and then cast a side-long glance 
 at her, so as to add fuel to the flame, for 
 the game was beginning to please me. The 
 concert, though it lasted long, did not tire me. 
 As for the lady, to whom the hours seemed 
 minutes, she would willingly have spent the 
 whole night in listening to us, if Marcos, to 
 whom the minutes seemed hours, had not 
 reminded her that it was late. She gave him 
 the trouble of repeating this at least ten times. 
 But he was irrepressible, and would not let her 
 rest until I was gone, for being sensible and 
 prudent, and seeing that his mistress had 
 abandoned herself to a foolish passion, he 
 feared that we should get into a scrape. His 
 apprehensions were soon justified. The doctor 
 whether he suspected some secret intrigue, 
 or whether the demon of jealousy, which had 
 hitherto not visited him, had a mind to harass
 
 GIL BLAS. 197 
 
 him took it into his head to find fault with our 
 concerts. He did more ; he forbade them in a 
 peremptory manner, and without giving us any 
 reasons for his behaviour, he declared that he 
 would no more permit strangers to come into 
 his house. 
 
 Marcos informed me of this declaration, 
 which had special reference to me, and by 
 which I was greatly mortified. I had con- 
 ceived hopes which I was sorry to forego. 
 Nevertheless, to record everything as a faithful 
 historian. I must confess that I endured my 
 misfortune patiently. It was not so with 
 Mergelina. Her feelings became more violent 
 than ever. " My dear Marcos," she said to her 
 attendant, " from you only do I look for aid. 
 I beseech you, enable me to see Diego secretly." 
 "What are you asking me?" replied the old 
 man, angrily. " I have already been too com- 
 plaisant. I do not mean, to satisfy your mad 
 passion, to assist you in dishonouring my master, 
 in ruining your reputation, and in covering 
 myself with infamy, I who have always been 
 considered a servant of irreproachable conduct ; 
 I would rather leave your house than act so 
 shamefully." " Ah, Marcos," interrupted the 
 lady, terrified by these last words, " you wound 
 me to the heart when you talk of going away. 
 Cruel man, are you going to abandon me after 
 reducing me to the state I am in ? Give me 
 back, then, my former pride, and that fierce
 
 198 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 spirit that you have taken from me ! Why do 
 I not still possess those happy faults ? I might 
 now have been at peace ; but your rash counsels 
 have robbed me of the repose I then enjoyed. 
 You have corrupted my morals by endeavouring 
 to amend them. . . . But," she continued, 
 weeping, "what am I saying, wretch that I am ? 
 Why do I reproach you unjustly ? No, dear old 
 man, you are not the author of my misfortune. 
 It is my evil fate which has brought about so 
 much annoyance. Do not notice, I beseech 
 you, these extravagant speeches I utter in spite 
 of myself. Alas ! my passion drives me mad ! 
 Have compassion on my weakness. You are 
 my only consolation ; and if my life is dear to 
 you, do not refuse me your aid." 
 
 At these words her tears flowed so abun- 
 dantly that she could not continue. She drew 
 out her handkerchief, and, covering her face 
 with it, threw herself into a chair, like a person 
 overcome by her affliction. Old Marcos, who 
 was perhaps the most kind-hearted ladies' squire 
 that ever lived, could not resist so touching a 
 sight. He was deeply moved by it; he even 
 mingled his tears with those of his mistress, and 
 said to her in a softened tone : " Ah ! madam, 
 how bewitching you are ! I cannot bear to see 
 your grief; it has overcome my virtue. I pro- 
 mise you my aid. I no longer wonder that love 
 has power to make you forget your duty, when 
 mere compassion is able to lead me from mine."
 
 GIL BLAS. 190 
 
 And accordingly the attendant, for all his irre- 
 proachable conduct, very obligingly became a 
 slave to the passion of Mergelina. He came 
 one morning and told me all this, and as he 
 was going away, said he was already planning 
 what must be done to procure me a secret 
 interview with the lady. By this he rekindled 
 my hope : but two hours later I heard some very 
 bad news. An apothecary's assistant in our 
 neighbourhood, one of our customers, came in 
 to be shaved. As I was preparing to shave 
 him he said to me, " Senor Diego, what is 
 this about old Marcos de Obregon, your 
 friend ? Do you know that he is going to 
 leave Dr Oloroso?" I replied in the nega- 
 tive. " It is a fact," he said, " he is to go 
 to-day. His master and mine have just been 
 talking it over before me, and their conversation 
 was as follows. ' Seiior Apuntador, ' * said the 
 doctor, ' I have a favour to ask of you. I am 
 not satisfied with the old attendant whom I have 
 in my house, and I should like to place my 
 wife in the charge of a trusty, severe, and vigi- 
 lant duenna.' ' I understand,' said my master. 
 'You need Dame Melancia. 2 She was my wife's 
 companion, and for the last six weeks since I 
 have been a widower, has continued to live 
 with me. Though she is useful in my house, I 
 will give her up to you, on account of the par- 
 
 1 Apuntador is the Spanish for " a marker, a pointer." 
 
 2 Melancia means " honeyed."
 
 200 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 ticular interest I take in your honour. You can 
 rely on her for the safety of your brow : she is 
 the pearl of duennas, a very dragon in guarding 
 the chastity of the sex. During the twelve years 
 she has been with my wife, who, as you know, 
 was young and handsome, I never saw even the 
 shadow of a gallant inside my house. Od's 
 life, it was no place for their pranks! And 
 let me tell you that the deceased lady had at 
 first a strong propensity for coquetry ; but 
 Dame Melancia soon cooled her, and gave 
 her a taste for virtue. In short, such a com- 
 panion is a treasure, and you will never have 
 done thanking me for making you this present.' 
 Thereupon the doctor declared that these 
 words gave him much pleasure, and they 
 agreed that the duenna should come, this 
 very day, and occupy the place of old Marcos." 
 This piece of news, which I believed to be 
 true, as indeed it was, banished the pleasant 
 fancies which I again began to entertain ; and 
 Marcos drove them out of my head effectually 
 after dinner, by confirming the information of 
 the apothecary's assistant. " My dear Diego," 
 said the honest squire to me, " I am delighted 
 that Dr Oloroso has turned me away; by so 
 doing he has spared me much grief. Not only 
 had I undertaken an evil course against my 
 wish, but I should have had to contrive 
 stratagems and subterfuges to enable you to 
 speak in secret with Donna Mergelina. What
 
 GIL BLAS. 201 
 
 a trouble it would have been ! Thank Heaven, 
 I am delivered from such perplexing cares, and 
 from the danger accompanying them ! On 
 your part, my lad, you must console yourself 
 for the loss of a few pleasant moments, which 
 might have been followed by a great many 
 vexations." I appreciated the moralising of 
 Marcos, because I had no longer any hope; 
 and I gave up the game. I must confess that I 
 was not one of those obstinate lovers who bear 
 up against obstacles : but even if I had been 
 so, Dame Melancia would have made me 
 abandon the attempt. The character which 
 had been given me of that duenna seemed to 
 me calculated to reduce all gallants to despair. 
 Yet notwithstanding the colours she had been 
 painted in, I had reason to know, two or three 
 days afterwards, that the physician's wife had 
 lulled this Argus to sleep, or else corrupted her 
 fidelity. As I was going out to shave one of our 
 neighbours, a decent old woman stopped me in 
 the street, and asked if my name was Diego de 
 la Fuenta. I said it was. " That being the 
 case," she replied, " I have some business with 
 you. Be to-night at Donna Mergelina's door, 
 and when you are there, give some signal or 
 other, and you shall be introduced into her 
 house." " Well," said I, "then we must agree 
 upon the signal I am to give. I can^ imitate a 
 cat to perfection; I will mew several times." 
 " That will do," replied the love-messenger, " I
 
 202 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 will take back your reply. Your servant, Seiior 
 Diego ; may Heaven preserve you ! Ah, what 
 a sweet youth you are ! By Saint Agnes, if I 
 were but fifteen, I would not engage you for 
 other people." And with these words the 
 obliging old woman left me. 
 
 You may easily imagine that I was much 
 excited by this message. There was an end 
 to the moralising of Marcos. I awaited the 
 night with impatience ; and when I imagined 
 that Dr Oloroso was asleep, I betook myself to 
 his door. There I began to mew in such a 
 way that I must have been heard a long 
 distance off, and doubtless did honour to the 
 master who had taught me such a fine art. A 
 moment later Mergelina came herself and 
 softly opened the door, which she shut again 
 as soon as I was inside. We went into the 
 room where our last concert had been given, 
 and which was dimly lighted by a little lamp, 
 burning on the chimney. We sat down side 
 by side to converse together, both very much 
 overcome by our emotions, though with this dif- 
 ference, that hers were only inspired by pleasure, 
 while mine were mingled with fear. It was to 
 no purpose that the lady assured me we had 
 nothing to dread from her husband; I felt a 
 shivering which modified my joy. " Madam," 
 I said to her, " how were you able to deceive 
 the vigilance of your duenna ? After what I 
 had heard of Dame Melancia, I would not have
 
 GIL BLAS. 203 
 
 conceived it possible for you to find means 
 of communicating with me, still less of seeing 
 me privately." Donna Mergelina smiled at 
 this remark, and answered : " You will cease 
 to be surprised at the secret interview we 
 hold together to-night when I have told you 
 what has passed between my duenna and my- 
 self. As soon as she entered this house, my 
 husband loaded her with civilities, and said to 
 me, ' Mergelina, I commit you to the care of 
 this discreet lady, who is an abstract of all the 
 virtues, a mirror which you will always have 
 before your eyes to improve you in wisdom. 
 This admirable person has for twelve years been 
 companion to the wife of an apothecary of my 
 acquaintance. She controlled her in a way 
 no one could equal nay, more, the wife be- 
 came little short of a saint under her instruc- 
 tion.' This eulogy, which the severe appearance 
 of Melancia did not belie, cost me many tears, 
 and reduced me to despair. I thought of the 
 lectures which .1 should have to hear from 
 morning to night, and the reprimands I should 
 have to endure every day. In short, I ex- 
 pected to become the most unhappy woman in 
 the world. Caring for nothing in such a cruel 
 predicament, I said with a" resolute air, as 
 soon as I found myself alone with rny duenna : 
 ' You are doubtless preparing to make me 
 suffer a good deal, but I am not very patient, 
 I forewarn you. I shall give you every possible
 
 204 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 annoyance on my side. I admit at once that 
 my heart cherishes a passion which your re- 
 monstrances will not uproot ; so you may take 
 your measures accordingly. Watch me as 
 closely as you please, I assure you that I 
 shall spare nothing to deceive you.' At these 
 words the countenance of the grim duenna, 
 whom I thought would lecture me well as 
 a beginning, brightened up, and she said to 
 me, smiling : ' You charm me, and your 
 frankness encourages mine. I see that we 
 are made for one another. Ah ! lovely Mer- 
 gelina, how little do you know me if you judge 
 me by the character which your husband, the 
 physician, has given me, or by my sour 
 aspect ! Far from being an enemy to pleasure, 
 I minister to the jealousy of husbands, only 
 to serve their pretty wives. I have long 
 possessed the great art of wearing a mask, and 
 I may say that I am doubly happy, since I enjoy 
 at the same time the advantages of vice and a 
 reputation acquired by virtue. Between our- 
 selves, that is nearly the only way in which the 
 world is virtuous.. It costs too much to be 
 genuinely virtuous. We are content in these 
 days with its appearance. Let me direct you,' 
 my companion pursued, 'and we shall hoodwink 
 old Dr Oloroso. On my word he will soon have 
 the same fate as Seftor Apuntador ! There is no 
 reason why the forehead of a doctor should be 
 more respected than that of an apothecary. Poor
 
 GIL BLAS. 205 
 
 Apimtador ! How many tricks his wife and I 
 have played him ! She was a lovely creature, 
 that wife of his ; and so kind hearted ! Heaven 
 rest her soul ! I can assure you that she spent 
 her youth pleasantly. She had no end of lovers 
 whom I introduced into her house, without her 
 husband ever perceiving it. Look upon me, 
 then, more favourably, Madam, and be per- 
 suaded that, whatever talent the old squire who 
 was attending on you may have had, you will 
 lose nothing by the change. I shall, perhaps, 
 be still more useful to you than he was.' 
 
 " I leave you to imagine, Diego," continued 
 Mergelina, " whether I was pleased with my 
 duenna for so frankly unbosoming herself to 
 me. I thought her a person of austere virtue. 
 See how wrongly people judge women ! She 
 won my heart from the first moment by her sin- 
 cerity. I threw my arms around her neck in a 
 transport of joy, which told her beforehand how 
 charmed I was to have her for a companion. I 
 then confided all my feelings to her, and prayed 
 her to arrange for a secret meeting with you as 
 soon as possible. She has not failed to procure 
 it. This very morning she engaged the old 
 woman who spoke to you, and who is a go- 
 between whom she has often employed for the 
 apothecary's wife. But the funniest part of 
 this adventure," she added, laughing, " is that 
 Melancia, on hearing from me that my husband 
 was in the habit of passing the night very
 
 206 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 quietly, has gone to bed by his side, and is at 
 this moment in my place." " So much the 
 worse, madam," I at once said to Mergelina; "I 
 do not think much of that invention. Your 
 husband might easily wake, and discover the 
 trick." "He will not discover it," she replied 
 hastily. " Be not uneasy on that score, and do 
 not allow a groundless fear to poison the pleasure 
 you ought to feel in being in the company of a 
 young lady who is well disposed towards you." 
 The old doctor's wife, perceiving that this 
 speech did not allay my fear, omitted nothing 
 she could think of to reassure me; and she took 
 so many encouraging ways that she succeeded. 
 I thought of nothing more save of profiting by 
 my opportunity; but just as the divine Cupid, 
 with his train of smiles and sports, was about to 
 crown my happiness, we heard a loud knocking 
 at the street door. Instantly Love and his 
 attendants fled, like timid birds frightened by 
 a sudden noise. Mergelina quickly concealed 
 me under a table which stood in the room, 
 blew out the lamp, and, as she had agreed with 
 her companion, in the event of such an accident 
 arising, placed herself at the door of the room 
 where her husband slept. Meanwhile the knock- 
 ing continued with reiterated violence, and 
 resounded through the house. The doctor 
 awoke with a start, and called for Melancia. 
 The duenna leapt from the bed, although the 
 doctor, thinking it was his wife, cried out to her
 
 GIL BLAS. 207 
 
 not to get up; she ran to her mistress, who, 
 perceiving she was at her side, also called for 
 Melancia, and told her to go and see who was 
 knocking. "Madam," answered Melancia, 
 "here I am; pray return to your bed; I shall 
 go and see who it is." Mergelina, having in the 
 meantime undressed herself, got . into bed by 
 the side of the doctor, who had not the least 
 idea that he was being deceived. To be sure 
 this comedy had been played in the dark by 
 two actresses, of whom one was first-rate, and 
 the other had all the disposition to become so. 
 The duenna, wrapt in a dressing-gown, soon 
 afterwards made her appearance, holding a 
 lighted candle in her hand. " Sir," she said 
 to her master, " have the goodness to get up. 
 Our neighbour, Fernandez de Buendia, 1 the 
 bookseller, is in an apoplectic fit : they have 
 sent for you : hasten to his assistance." The 
 doctor dressed as fast as he could and went 
 out. His wife, in her dressing gown, came 
 with the duenna into the room where I 
 was. They dragged me from under the 
 table more dead than alive. " You have 
 nothing to fear, Diego," said Mergelina; 
 " recover yourself." And she told me in a few 
 words what had happened. She then wished 
 to renew with me the conversation which had 
 been interrupted; but her companion set her 
 
 1 This was the real name of one of the principal Madrid book- 
 sellers in the reign of Philip IV.
 
 208 THE ADVENTURES OF- 
 
 face against it. " Madam," she said, " your 
 husband will perhaps find the bookseller dead, 
 and may return immediately. Besides," she 
 added, perceiving me to be paralyzed with 
 fright, "what is to be done with that poor 
 boy ? He is not in a condition to carry on a 
 conversation. It would be far better to send 
 him home, and to defer the debate until to- 
 morrow." Donna Mergelina did not consent 
 to this without regret, so enamoured was she 
 of the present; and I flatter myself she was 
 greatly mortified in not having been able to 
 bestow upon her doctor the new head-gear 
 which she had intended for him. 
 
 As for me, less grieved to have missed the 
 most precious favours of love than glad to be 
 out of danger, I returned to my master's, where 
 I spent the rest of the night reflecting on my 
 adventure. I hesitated for some time whether 
 I should keep the appointment for the following 
 night. I had no better idea of the second ex- 
 pedition than of the first ; but the devil, who 
 is ever besetting us, or rather taking possession 
 of us in such circumstances, whispered to me 
 that I should be a great fool to stop half-way. 
 He pictured to my fancy Mergelina adorned 
 with new charms, and extolled the value of the 
 pleasures which awaited me. I resolved to 
 pursue my end; and promising myself to be 
 firmer the next night, I went back thus 
 well disposed, to the doctor's door, between
 
 GIL BLAS. 209 
 
 eleven and twelve. The sky was very dark ; 
 and not a star was to be seen. I mewed 
 two or three times to give notice that I was 
 in the street ; and as no one came to let me 
 in, I not only began again, but imitated all 
 the various cat-calls a shepherd had taught 
 me in Olmedo. I acquitted myself so well 
 that a neighbour, who was coming home, taking 
 me for one of the animals whose cries I was 
 imitating, picked up a stone lying at his feet, 
 and threw it at me with all his might, saying 
 " curse the cat! " I received the blow on my 
 head, and was so stunned for the moment that 
 I had well nigh fallen. I felt that I was badly 
 hurt. Nothing more was needed to disgust me 
 with gallantry ; and my love oozing out with 
 my blood, I went back home, where I woke 
 everybody, and made them get up. My master 
 examined my wound, and dressed it, consider- 
 ing it a dangerous one. Nevertheless, it had 
 no bad results, and was cured three weeks later. 
 During all that time I heard nothing of Mer- 
 gelina. It is likely enough that Dame Melancia, 
 in order to wean her from me, introduced her 
 to some better acquaintance. But I troubled 
 myself little about that, for I left Madrid to 
 continue my tour of Spain, as soon as I found 
 myself thoroughly recovered.
 
 210 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS AND HIS COMPANION MET A MAN 
 WHO WAS SOAKING CRUSTS OP BREAD IN A 
 SPRING; AND THE CONVERSATION THEY HAD 
 WITH HIM. 
 
 SENOR Diego de la Fuenta related to me several 
 other adventures which had subsequently hap- 
 pened to him ; but they seem to me so little 
 worthy of being told, that I shall pass them by 
 in silence. 1 I was, however, compelled to 
 listen to the narrative, which was decidedly 
 tedious; it lasted as far as Ponte de Duero. 
 We stayed at this town for the remainder of 
 the day. At the inn we ordered cabbage-soup, 
 and a roasted hare, whose species we took the 
 pains of verifying beforehand. At daybreak 
 on the following morning we pursued our 
 journey, after having filled our flask with a 
 pretty good wine, and our wallet with some 
 slices of bread, and half the hare remaining 
 from our supper. 
 
 When we had gone about two leagues we 
 felt appetised, and as we saw about two 
 hundred yards from the highway a group of 
 large trees forming a very pleasant shade, we 
 
 1 This conveys an indirect censure of the Spanish novel, the 
 Life of Marcos d'Olrcc/on, from which Lesage borrowed tlie episode 
 of the barber's amours with Merselina.
 
 '. ; --;:iii'
 
 GIL BLAS. 211 
 
 resolved to break our journey at this spot. 
 There we found a man from seven to eight- 
 and-twenty, moistening some crusts of bread 
 in a spring. By his side on the grass lay a 
 long sword, with a knapsack which he had 
 taken from his shoulders. He seemed to us 
 ill-clad, but well made and good looking. We 
 accosted him with civility ; and he returned our 
 salute in the same fashion. He then offered us 
 his crusts, and asked us with a smile if we would 
 partake of his fare. We said we would, pro- 
 vided he would permit us to add our breakfast 
 to his own, and so make the meal more sub- 
 stantial. He agreed most willingly, and we 
 soon produced our victuals, which were not 
 unacceptable to the stranger. " Why, gentle- 
 men," he cried joyfully, " here is a fine stock 
 of provisions ! I can see that you are provident 
 men. For my part I travel without such fore- 
 thought; I leave a good deal to chance. How- 
 ever, in spite of the condition you find me in, I 
 can say without boasting that I sometimes make 
 a pretty brilliant figure. Would you believe it; 
 they generally treat me as a prince, and I have 
 guards as my attendants ? " "I understand you," 
 said Diego ; " you mean that you are an actor ?" 
 "You have guessed it," replied the other; "I 
 have been an actor these fifteen years at least. 
 I was but a child when I began to perform 
 minor parts." "I must confess," said the barber, 
 shaking his head, "that I can hardly believe
 
 212 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 you. I know what actors are; those gentle- 
 men do not travel on foot, as you are doing, nor 
 dine with Saint Anthony ; l I doubt if you are 
 even a candle-snuffer." "You may think just 
 what you please of me," replied the actor; 
 "but for all that I play leading characters; I 
 act the lover." " If that be the case," said 
 my comrade, "I congratulate you; I am de- 
 lighted that Seiior Gil Bias and I have the 
 honour of breakfasting with a gentleman of so 
 much importance." 
 
 We then began to gnaw our crusts, and the 
 precious remains of the hare, bestowing on 
 the flask such hearty smacks that we very 
 soon emptied it. We were all three so much 
 taken up by what we were doing that we 
 scarcely spoke during our meal ; but after 
 we had eaten we thus renewed the conversa- 
 tion. " I am surprised," said the barber to the 
 comedian, " that you seem to be so badly off. 
 For a stage hero you appear very poor. For- 
 give me if I say frankly what I think." 
 " Frankly ! " cried the actor, " ah, indeed, you 
 hardly know Melchior Zapata. Thank Heaven, 
 I am not at all cross-tempered. You please me 
 by speaking so frankly, for I also like to say 
 all that is in my mind. I candidly admit I 
 am not rich. Look," he continued, showing 
 us his doublet lined with play-bills, " this 
 is the stuff that generally serves me for 
 
 1 To dine with Saint Anthony is to have only bread and water.
 
 GIL BLAS. 213 
 
 lining, and if you care to see my wardrobe I 
 shall satisfy your curiosity." With this he 
 drew from his knapsack a coat covered with 
 old silver-foil lace, a small broad-brimmed hat, 1 
 with a few old feathers, silk stockings full of 
 holes, and red morocco buskins a great deal the 
 worse for wear. " You see," he said to us, "that 
 I am poor enough." " That astonishes me," 
 replied Diego. " So you have neither wife nor 
 daughter?" "I have a young and pretty 
 wife," said Zapata, " and I am none the better 
 for it. Observe the fatality of my lot ! I 
 marry a lovely actress, in the hope that she 
 would not let me die of hunger; and unfor- 
 tunately she is incorruptibly good. Who the 
 deuce would not have been deceived in her as 
 I was? Amongst strolling actresses there is 
 one who is virtuous, and she must fall into my 
 hands ! " " It is verily a piece of bad luck," 
 said the barber. " But why did you not take 
 an actress from the first company in Madrid ? 
 You would have been sure to be right." " I 
 agree with you," replied the actor; "but, 
 plague upon it, a petty strolling actor may 
 not lift his thoughts to those illustrious 
 heroines. That is as much as an actor 
 even of the Prince's Company could do, and 
 
 1 The original has capeline, from the Spanish capellina, a small 
 broad-brimmed hat. Madame d'Aulnoy, in the twelfth letter of her 
 Relation du Voyage d'Espagne, says that workmen wear small hats 
 in Spain, whilst noblemen's hats are very large.
 
 2H THE ADVENTURES OP 
 
 citizens' daughters. Fortunately for them, the 
 town is well stored, and often there are found 
 some who are quite as good as the princesses 
 of the green room." 
 
 "Well! but have you never thought," asked 
 my companion, " of getting into that company? 
 Does it need an infinite amount of merit to get 
 in ? " " What ! " replied Melchior, " are you 
 joking with your infinite merit ? There are a 
 score of actors there. Ask the public what it 
 thinks of them, and you will hear them spoken 
 of in nice terms. More than half of them 
 deserve still to be carrying a knapsack. Yet, 
 for all that, it is not easy to be received 
 amongst them. You must have coin, or 
 powerful friends, to make up for poverty of 
 talent. I ought to know, for I have just been 
 coming out in Madrid, where I was hooted and 
 hissed down like a fiend, though I ought to have 
 been well applauded ; for I roared and ranted 
 in an extravagant manner, and departed from 
 nature more than a hundred times; moreover 
 I even clenched my fist at the heroine of the 
 piece whilst saying my part; in a word, I acted 
 just like the great performers of that town ; and 
 yet this self-same public which thought these 
 ways very nice in them would not endure them 
 in me. Such is the force of prejudice ! So, 
 unable to please by my acting, and having no 
 means of being accepted in spite of the hissers,
 
 GIL BLAS. 215 
 
 I am on my way back to Zamora. There I 
 shall rejoin my wife and my comrades, who are 
 not doing too well. I only wish we may not 
 be obliged to send the hat round, to enable 
 us to get to another town, as we have had to 
 do more than once ! ' 
 
 With these words the stage-prince rose, 
 slung across him his knapsack and his sword, 
 and said to us gravely as he departed : 
 
 "Gentlemen, farewell, 
 And may the gods exhaust their favours on you ! " 
 
 " And may you find your wife in a dif- 
 ferent mood, and well established at Zamora," 
 said Diego, in the same tone. As soon as 
 Seiior Zapata had turned on his heels, he 
 began gesticulating and spouting as he went 
 along. Immediately the barber and I be- 
 gan to hiss, so as to remind him of his 
 debut. Our hisses reached his ears; he thought 
 he was listening to the cat-calls of Madrid, 
 and looked behind him; and seeing that we 
 were amusing ourselves at his expense, he was 
 far from being offended at this buffoonery, but 
 entered into- the joke with a good grace, and 
 went on his way laughing heartily. We, on 
 our side, after we had echoed his mirth as 
 boisterously, got again on the high road and 
 pursued our journey.
 
 216 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 THE CONDITION IN WHICH DIEGO FOUND HIS FAMILY; 
 AND HOW GIL BLAS AND HE SEPARATED, AFTER 
 GREAT REJOICINGS. 
 
 ON that day we slept between Moyados and 
 Valpuesta, 1 at a little village whose name I 
 have forgotten; and on the morrow we 
 reached, about eleven in the morning, the 
 plain of Olmedo. " Senor Gil Bias," said my 
 companion, behold my native place; I can 
 hardly contain myself when I see it, so natural 
 is it to love one's country." " Sefior Diego," I 
 replied, " a man who shows so much love for 
 his native country ought to speak of it a little 
 more favourably, it seems to me, than you have 
 done. Olmedo looks to me like a town, and 
 you told me it was a village; you ought at 
 least to have treated it as a market town." " I 
 beg its pardon," replied the barber ; " but I 
 will tell you that, after seeing Madrid, Toledo, 
 Saragossa, and all the other great towns where 
 I dwelt whilst making the tour of Spain, I 
 regard the small ones as mere villages." As we 
 got further on the plain it seemed to us that 
 there was a crowd gathered near Olmedo ; and 
 when we were near enough to distinguish 
 
 1 These names are rightly spelt by Lesage, though Llorente 
 asserts the contrary.
 
 GIL BLAS. . 217 
 
 objects clearly, we saw something to occupy our 
 attention. 
 
 There were three tents pitched at some dis- 
 tance from each other ; and near them a large 
 number of cooks and scullions preparing a 
 feast. Some were laying the cloth on long 
 tables set up under the tents; others were 
 filling earthenware pitchers with wine. Others, 
 again, were making pots boil, whilst some turned 
 spits on which were roasting all sorts of meats. 
 But what I thought more curious than all the 
 rest was a great stage which had been erected, 
 adorned with painted pasteboard decorations 
 in varied colours and covered with Greek and 
 Latin mottoes. The barber had no sooner seen 
 these inscriptions than he said to me: "All 
 these Greek words savour strongly of my uncle 
 Thomas. I bet he has had a hand in them, 
 for between ourselves he is a man of learning. 
 He knows by heart a whole host of college 
 books. What annoys me is that he is always 
 quoting passages of them in his conversation, 
 which does not please everybody. Besides," 
 he continued, " my uncle has translated Latin 
 poets and Greek authors. He has got all the 
 ancient authors at his ringers' ends, as you may 
 see by his ingenious criticisms. If it had not 
 been for him we might never have known that, 
 in the city of Athens, children cried when they 
 were whipped. We owe this discovery to his 
 profound erudition."
 
 218 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 After my companion and I had looked at the 
 things I have mentioned, we wished to learn 
 the cause of such preparations. We were 
 going to inquire, when, in a man who 
 seemed to be the manager of the festivities, 
 Diego recognised Seiior Thomas de la Fuenta, 
 whom we accosted with great eagerness. The 
 schoolmaster did not at first recognise the young 
 barber, so much was he changed in ten years. 
 However, he did not long fail to remember 
 him, but embraced him cordially, and said to 
 him affectionately : " Well, Diego, my dear 
 nephew, so you have returned to the town 
 where you first saw the light ? You have come 
 back to revisit your household gods, and Heaven 
 restores you safe and sound to your family. O 
 day thrice and four times happy ! albo dies 
 notanda lapillo! We have news in plenty for you, 
 my dear lad," he continued, " your uncle Pedro, 
 the wit, has become a victim to Pluto ; he has 
 been dead these three months. That miser, 
 during his life, was afraid of being in want of 
 the common necessaries : argenti pallebat amore. 
 Though he received large pensions from several 
 noblemen, he did not spend ten pistoles a year 
 on his maintenance, and had only one atten- 
 dant, whom he< starved. That crazy fellow, 
 madder than the Greek Aristippus who ordered 
 all the riches which his slaves carried, to be 
 thrown into the midst of the Libyan desert, be- 
 cause they were an encumbrance on their march,
 
 GIL BLAS. 219 
 
 heaped up all the gold and silver which he 
 could scrape together. And for whom? For 
 those very heirs whom he would not admit 
 to his presence. He died worth thirty thousand 
 ducats, which your father, your uncle Ber- 
 trand, and myself have divided. We are in 
 a position to make our children comfortable. 
 My brother Nicholas has already disposed of 
 your sister Theresa, and just married her to 
 the son of one of our alcades ; Connubio junxit 
 stabili propriamque dicavit. It is this very wed- 
 ding, performed under the happiest auspices, 
 which we have been celebrating for two days 
 with so much display. We have had these 
 tents set up in the plain. The three heirs 
 of Pedro have each a booth and alternately 
 bear the expenses of the day. I wish you had 
 come earlier ; you would have seen the begin- 
 ning of our rejoicings. The day before yesterday, 
 when the marriage took place, your father gave 
 his treat. He provided a sumptuous entertain- 
 ment which was followed by a tilt at the ring. 
 Your uncle, the mercer, regaled us yester- 
 day, and treated us to a pastoral feast. He 
 dressed ten of the best looking lads and maidens 
 as shepherds and shepherdesses, and used up all 
 the ribbons and all the points in his shop to 
 adorn them. This brilliant youthful company 
 performed several dances, and sang a thousand 
 tender and sprightly songs. And yet, though 
 nothing was ever more gallant, it produced no
 
 220 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 great effect. People now-a-days do not care so 
 much for pastorals as they once did. To-day," 
 he continued, " all goes on at my cost, and I 
 am about to give the townsfolk of Olmedo a 
 spectacle of my own devising : Finis coronabit 
 opus. I have had a stage set up, whereon, 
 God willing, shall be represented by my 
 pupils a piece of my own composition : The 
 Amusements of Muley Bugentuf, King of Morocco. 
 It will be thoroughly well acted, because I 
 have pupils who declaim like the actors of 
 Madrid. They are children of decent families 
 of Pegnafiel and Segovia, who are boarding 
 with me. They are capital actors! To be 
 sure, I have trained them ; and their decla- 
 mation will bear the stamp of the master, 
 ut ita dicam. As for the piece, I will not say 
 a word about it, but leave to you the pleasure 
 of surprise. I will merely state that it must 
 produce a deep impression on all who be- 
 hold it. It is one of those tragic subjects 
 which move the soul by the pictures of death 
 which they present to the mind. 1 am of 
 Aristotle's opinion ; we must excite terror. 
 Ah, if I had cultivated the drama, I should 
 have put on the stage none but sanguinary 
 princes, but murderous heroes ; I should have 
 bathed in gore. In my tragedies not only 
 the principal personages, but also the guards 
 should have been killed off; I should have 
 even slaughtered the prompter; in fact I
 
 GIL BLAS. 221 
 
 only care for the terrible : l that is my taste. 
 Plays of this kind draw the masses, support 
 the players in splendour, and enable authors to 
 live at their ease." 
 
 Just as he was finishing his speech, we saw 
 emerging from the village and entering upon 
 the plain a great crowd of persons of both sexes. 
 It was the newly married couple, accompanied 
 by their relatives and friends, and preceded by 
 ten or a dozen musicians, who, playing all to- 
 gether, produced a very noisy din. We went 
 forward to meet them, and Diego made him- 
 self known. The whole assembly immediately 
 shouted for joy, and everyone pressed forward 
 to shake him by the hand. He had enough to 
 do to accept all the overtures of friendship 
 which were made to him. His whole family, 
 and even all who were present, overwhelmed 
 him with embraces, after which his father said 
 to him : " You are welcome, Diego ! you find 
 your parents in rather better circumstances, 
 my lad ; I do not say more at present, I 
 shall explain all by and by." Meanwhile 
 everybody advanced along the plain, went 
 into the tents, and sat down round the tables 
 which had been prepared. I kept close to 
 
 1 A hit at Crebillon whose tragedy Atrte et Thyeste had been 
 acted in 1707, his Rhadamiste et Z&nobie in 1711. Crebillon is 
 said to have stated as the reason of his preference for the terrible, 
 " that Corneille had already taken Heaven for the subject of his 
 plays, Eacine the earth, and that therefore only the infernal 
 regions remained for him."
 
 222 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 my companion, and we dined with the newly- 
 married couple, who seemed to me well 
 matched. The meal was rather long, because 
 the schoolmaster had the vanity of wishing to 
 give three courses, so as to outshine his brothers 
 who had not been so magnificent in their 
 hospitalities. 
 
 After the banquet all the guests showed great 
 impatience to witness the representation of 
 Seiior Thomas's play, not doubting, as they 
 said, that the production of such a fine genius 
 would well deserve to be heard. We drew near 
 the stage, in front of which all the musicians 
 had already taken their seats, so as to play in the 
 intervals. Whilst all, amidst deep silence, were 
 waiting for the rising of the curtain, the actors 
 appeared upon the stage, and the author, with 
 the piece in his hand, sat behind the scenes to 
 prompt. He was right when he told us that 
 the play was tragical ; for, in the first act, the 
 King of Morocco, by way of recreation, slew a 
 hundred Moorish slaves with bow and arrow ; 
 in the second he cut off the heads of thirty 
 Portuguese officers, whom one of his captains 
 had made prisoners of war; and in the third 
 and last, this monarch, tired of his wives, set 
 fire with his own hand to a detached palace in 
 which they were shut up, and reduced it and 
 them to ashes. The Moorish slaves, as well 
 as the Portuguese officers, w r ere wicker-work 
 figures constructed with much skill; and the
 
 GIL BLAS. 223 
 
 palace, which was of cardboard, seemed all in 
 a blaze by fireworks. This conflagration, 
 accompanied by a thousand piercing cries 
 which seemed to proceed from the midst of 
 the flames, brought the piece to a close in a 
 very diverting manner. The whole plain re- 
 sounded with the applause bestowed on so fine 
 a tragedy, which testified to the sound taste of 
 the poet, and showed that he knew well how to 
 choose his subjects. 
 
 I thought there was nothing more to be seen 
 after The Amusements of Muley Bugentuf, but I 
 was mistaken. Kettle-drums and trumpets 
 announced a new spectacle. This was the dis- 
 tribution of prizes ; for Thomas de la Fuenta, 
 to give additional solemnity to the feast, had 
 made all his scholars, day pupils and boarders, 
 compose certain themes ; and to-day he was to 
 give to those who had succeeded best some 
 books bought at Segovia, out of his own pocket. 
 Immediately, therefore, there were brought on 
 to the stage two long school formes, with a 
 case filled with handsomely bound books. 
 Then all the actors returned upon the scene, 
 and gathered round Seiior Thomas, who looked 
 as pompous as the principal of a college. He 
 had in his hand a sheet of paper, whereon were 
 written the names of all those who had carried 
 off prizes. He gave the list to the King of 
 Morocco, who began to read it aloud. Each 
 pupil, answering to his name, went up respect-
 
 224 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 fully to receive a book from the schoolmaster's 
 hands ; after this he was crowned with laurel, 
 and made to sit on one of the two formes to 
 exhibit himself to the gaze of an admiring 
 audience. However, much as the schoolmaster 
 desired to send the spectators away in good 
 humour, he did not succeed ; for, having distri- 
 buted nearly all the prizes to the boarders as is 
 generally the case, the mothers of some of the 
 day-boys fired up and accused him of partiality; 
 so that this entertainment, which had thus far 
 been so glorious for him, had nearly ended in 
 mischief, like the feast of the Lapithge.
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 i.
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE ARRIVAL OP GIL BLAS IN MADRID, AND HIS 
 FIRST PLACE IN THAT CITY. 
 
 I STAYED for some time at the young barber's. 
 Then I joined a shopkeeper of Segovia, who 
 was passing through Olmedo with four mules, 
 which had taken certain goods to Valladolid, 
 and was returning with them unloaded. We 
 became well acquainted on the road, and 
 he took such a fancy to me that he insisted 
 on my lodging with him when we arrived 
 at Segovia. He kept me for two days, 
 and when he saw that I was ready to start 
 with the muleteer for Madrid, he entrusted 
 me with a letter, asking me to deliver it at its 
 address in person, without telling me that it 
 was a letter of recommendation. I did not 
 fail to take it to Seiior Matheo Melendez. He 
 was a woollen-draper, living at the Sun Gate, 
 at the corner of the Trunkmaker's Street. 1 
 He had no sooner opened the letter and read 
 it than he said to me graciously : " Seiior Gil 
 Bias, my correspondent, Pedro Palacio, writes 
 to me so urgently in your favour that I cannot 
 
 1 Llorente says there is no such street, but Everett states that 
 there is one, as well as a Puerto, del Sol.
 
 228 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 but offer you a lodging at my house. More- 
 over, he asks me to find you a good situation. 
 It is a commission which I shall undertake 
 with pleasure, and I am sure it will not be 
 very difficult to settle you comfortably." 
 
 I accepted the offer of Melendez with the 
 more pleasure that my finances were visibly 
 decreasing; but I did not live long at his 
 expense. At the end of a week he told me 
 that he had just recommended me to a gentle- 
 man of his acquaintance who needed a valet de 
 chambre, and that, in all probability, I should 
 not fail in obtaining the situation. And indeed, 
 the gentleman happening to arrive at the 
 same moment, Melendez said to him, whilst 
 introducing me, " Seflor, you see before you 
 the young man I mentioned to you. He 
 is an honest lad and has a good character. 
 I can answer for him as I would for myself." 
 The gentleman looked at me attentively, said 
 that my face pleased him, and that he would 
 take me into his service. " He has but to 
 follow me," he added; "I shall tell him what 
 his duties are." He then wished the shop- 
 keeper good day, and took me into the High- 
 street, just in front of the church of St Philip. 
 We entered a rather handsome house, of which 
 he occupied one wing. We went up five or 
 six steps, and then he took me into a room 
 closed by two strong doors, which he opened, 
 and the first of which had a small window,
 
 GIL BLAS. 229 
 
 with an iron grate to it, in the middle. 
 Through this room we passed into another, 
 where there was a bed, and a few other articles 
 of furniture rather more neat than expensive. 
 
 If my master had looked at me well at the 
 house of Melendez, I examined him in turn with 
 much attention. He was a man on the wrong 
 side of fifty, reserved and grave in appearance. 
 He seemed to me of a gentle disposition, and 
 I did not misjudge him. He asked me several 
 questions concerning my family, and being 
 satisfied with my replies, said: "Gil Bias, I 
 think you are a very sensible young fellow ; 
 I am very glad to have you in my service. 
 On your part you will be satisfied with your 
 place. I shall give you six reals a day for 
 your board and wages, without counting the 
 little perquisites you may make in my establish- 
 ment. Besides, I am not difficult to serve, for 
 I have no regular meals here, but dine in town. 
 In the morning you will only have to brush my 
 clothes, and you will be your own master for the 
 rest of the day. Only take care to get back 
 early in the evening, and to wait for me at the 
 door. This is all I want of you." After thus 
 instructing me in my duties he took six reals 
 out of his pocket and gave me them, by way of 
 beginning to carry out the terms. We then 
 went out together. He closed the doors himself, 
 and took away the keys. "Youngster," he 
 said, " you need not follow me : go where you
 
 230 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 like, walk about in the town ; but when I come 
 back in the evening, let me find you on these 
 stairs." With this injunction he left me to do 
 what I chose with myself. 
 
 " Upon my word, Gil Bias," I soliloquised, 
 " you could not have found a better master. 
 Why, you have come across a man who, for 
 brushing his clothes and putting his room 
 straight in the morning, gives you six reals a 
 day, with the liberty of walking about and 
 pleasing yourself like a school-boy in the 
 holidays ! Od's life, there could not be a better 
 place ! No wonder I wanted so much to come to 
 Madrid ; I certainly had a presentiment of the 
 good luck that awaited me." I spent the day 
 about the streets, amusing myself by looking 
 at all that was new to me, which occupied 
 me for a while. In the evening, after supping 
 at an inn not far from our house, I went in 
 good time to the spot where my master had 
 ordered me to be. He came three quarters of 
 an hour after me, and seemed pleased with 
 my punctuality. " That's all right," said he, 
 " and pleases me. I like servants who attend 
 to their duties." With this he opened the 
 doors of his room, and closed them after us as 
 soon as we had entered. As we were without 
 a light he took a tinder-box and lighted a 
 candle, and then I helped him to undress. 
 As soon as he was in bed I lighted, by 
 his order, a lamp on the mantelpiece, and
 
 GIL BLAS. 231 
 
 took the candle into the outer room, where I 
 had to sleep in a little bed without curtains. 
 He got up next morning between nine and 
 ten ; I brushed his clothes ; he gave me my 
 six reals, and sent me away until the evening. 
 He also went out, not without very carefully 
 locking the doors ; and so we separated for the 
 remainder of the day. 
 
 Such was our manner of living, which I 
 found very pleasant. The most amusing part 
 of it was that I did not know my master's 
 name. Melendez himself did not know it. He 
 was only acquainted with the gentleman from 
 his coming occasionally into the shop, and now 
 and then buying some cloth. Our neighbours 
 were as much at a loss as myself; they all 
 assured me that my master was a perfect 
 stranger to them, though he had been living 
 for two years in the ward. They told me that 
 he visited no one in the neighbourhood ; and 
 some, accustomed to form rash judgments, 
 concluded from this that he was a man no 
 better than he should be. They even went 
 farther ; they suspected him of being a spy of 
 the king of Portugal, and charitably advised 
 me to take my measures accordingly. This 
 intimation troubled me. I imagined that, if 
 this fact should turn out to be true, I ran the 
 risk of seeing the inside of the prisons of 
 Madrid, which I did not believe to be any 
 better than others. My innocence could not
 
 232 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 allay my anxiety. My past misfortunes made 
 me dread the law. I had twice experienced 
 that, if it did not slay the innocent, it at 
 least observed so badly the laws of hospitality 
 towards them that it was always a misfortune 
 to sojourn under its roof. 
 
 In such a delicate conjuncture I consulted 
 Melendez. He was at a loss how to advise me. 
 If he could not bring himself to believe that 
 my master was a spy, still he had no reason to 
 be very positive of the contrary. I resolved to 
 watch my employer, and to leave him if I saw 
 that he was really an enemy of the State ; but 
 it seemed to me that prudence and my comfort- 
 able situation required me first to be perfectly 
 sure of the fact. I therefore began to pry into 
 his actions, and in order to sound him I said 
 to him one evening as I was undressing him : 
 " Sir, I do not know how a man ought to 
 live so as to be safe against slanderous attacks. 
 People are very scurrilous! We, like other 
 men, have neighbours not worth a curse, and 
 who are evil-minded ! You could never guess 
 how they talk of us." " Indeed, Gil Bias," he 
 replied. "Well, what can they say of us, 
 my lad ? " " Ah, truly," I rejoined, " scandal 
 never lacks a subject; virtue herself would 
 supply it with a handle. Our neighbours say 
 that we are dangerous people, and ought to be 
 looked after by the government; in a word, 
 you are taken, hereabouts, for a spy of the
 
 GIL BLAS. 233 
 
 king of Portugal." l As I uttered these words 
 I looked at my master as Alexander eyed his 
 physician, and summoned up all my penetration 
 to read the effect that my remark produced on 
 him. I thought I observed a tremor in my 
 master which too well accorded with the 
 conjectures of the neighbourhood, and he fell 
 into a fit of musing which I did not interpret 
 favourably. He, however, recovered from his 
 emotion, and said to me calmly enough : " Gil 
 Bias, leave our neighbours to discuss us as they 
 please, but let us not make our peace depend 
 on their discussions. We need not trouble 
 about their opinion of us, if we give them no 
 cause for a bad one." 
 
 Thereupon he went to bed, and I did the 
 same, not knowing well what to do. Next day, 
 just as we were on the point of going out in 
 the morning, we heard a loud knocking at 
 the outer door, on the staircase. My master 
 opened the inner door, and looked through the 
 little grating. He saw a well-dressed man, 
 who said to him : " Sir, I am an alguazil, 2 and 
 
 1 There was no king of Portugal at the time when Gil Bias 
 was supposed to speak, for the Duke of Alba had conquered that 
 country for Philip II. of Spain in 1580. 
 
 2 The Countess d'Aulnoy had no great opinion of the Madrid 
 alguazils. In the twelfth letter of her Relation she calls them " the 
 greatest robbers out," and says that, " by giving some money to 
 an alcalde or an alguazil, the most innocent person in the world can 
 be arrested, and thrown into a dungeon to perish there of hunger, 
 without any preliminary lawsuit, order, or decree, and when he
 
 234 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I have come to tell you that the corregidor 
 desires to speak to you." " What does he 
 want with me?" asked my master. " That I 
 do not know, sir," replied thealguazil; "but 
 you have only to go to him, and you will soon 
 be informed." "Present my compliments," said 
 my master, " and tell him I have no business 
 with him." Whilst uttering these words 
 he sharply closed the second door ; then, after 
 walking up and down for some time, as though 
 the alguazil's words had given him plenty of 
 food for thought, he put six reals into my hand, 
 and said : " Gil Bias, you may go out, my lad, 
 and spend the day where you like. I shall 
 not leave here just yet, and do not need you 
 this morning." By this he led me to under- 
 stand that he was afraid of being arrested, 
 and was therefore obliged to remain in his 
 apartments. I left him there, and to dis- 
 cover if I were mistaken in my suspicions, I 
 concealed myself in a place where I could see 
 him if he went out. I should have had the 
 patience to stay there all the morning, if he 
 had not saved me the trouble. But an hour 
 later I saw him walking in the street with an 
 air of confidence which at first puzzled my 
 penetration. And yet, far from being taken 
 in by appearances, I distrusted them; for I 
 was strongly prejudiced against him. I con- 
 comes out of prison he must not even think of bringing to book 
 such an unworthy officer of justice."
 
 GIL BLAS. 235 
 
 sidered that his air of assurance might be 
 affected; I even fancied that he only stayed 
 at home to secure his gold and jewels, and that 
 probably he was about to consult his safety by 
 a speedy flight. I thought I should never see 
 him again, and hesitated in the evening about 
 going to attend at his door, so convinced was I 
 that he would leave the town that very day to 
 escape from impending danger. Nevertheless, 
 I did wait at his door ; and to my surprise my 
 master came back as usual. He went to bed 
 without displaying the least anxiety, and got 
 up the next morning with the same composure. 
 As he was finishing dressing there was a 
 sudden knocking at the door. My master 
 looked through the little grating, recognised 
 the alguazil of the previous day, and asked 
 him what he wanted. " Open the door," the 
 alguazil said, " the corregidor is here." At this 
 alarming name my blood froze in my veins. 
 I was deucedly afraid of those gentry since I 
 had been in their clutches, and could have 
 wished myself at that moment a hundred 
 leagues from Madrid. As for my master, he 
 was less startled than I was, opened the 
 door and received the magistrate respectfully. 
 "You see," the corregidor said, "that I have 
 not come to you with a large following; I 
 want to do business without exposure. In 
 spite of the damaging rumours circulated 
 about you in the town, I think you deserve
 
 236 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 some consideration. Tell me your name, and 
 your business in Madrid. " Seiior," replied 
 my master, " I am a native of New Castille, 
 and my name is Don Bernard de Castil Blazo. 1 
 As for my occupations, I walk about, frequent 
 places of public amusement, and enjoy myself 
 every day with a few nice acquaintances." 
 " Of course," remarked the magistrate, " you 
 have a large income?" "No, sir," my master 
 interrupted, " I have neither annuities, lands, 
 nor houses." " Then what do you live on?" 
 rejoined the corregidor. " On what I will 
 show you," replied Don Bernard. At the same 
 time he lifted up some hangings, opened a 
 door, which I had not previously observed, 
 then another behind this one, and took the 
 magistrate to a closet containing a large chest 
 full of golden coins which he showed him. 
 
 " Senor," he then continued, "you know that 
 Spaniards do not like to work ; yet whatever 
 aversion they may have to taking any trouble, 
 I can safely say I excel them in that respect. 
 I possess a stock of laziness which renders me 
 incapable of any exertion. If I wanted to 
 transform my vices into virtues I might call 
 my laziness philosophic indolence; I might 
 say that it is the labour of a mind weaned from 
 all that worldlings pursue most ardently; but I 
 
 1 This, according to Llorente, ought to be " Castil-Blanco, a 
 village in the Mancha, in New Castille." I have, however, found 
 Castil Blazo on the maps I consulted.
 
 GIL BLAS. 237 
 
 will frankly confess that I am constitutionally 
 lazy, and so lazy that, rather than work for my 
 living, I believe I would prefer to starve. So, 
 to lead a life in accordance with my mood, not 
 to have the trouble of managing my property, 
 and, above all, to get rid of stewards, I have 
 converted all my patrimony, consisting of 
 several considerable estates, into ready money. 
 In this chest are fifty thousand ducats. It 
 is more than enough for the remainder of my 
 life, even if I were to live upwards of a century; 
 for I do not spend a thousand ducats a year, and 
 I am already more than fifty. Hence I do not 
 dread the future, for, thank Heaven, I am not 
 given to any of the three things which usually 
 ruin men. I do not care much for good living, 
 I only play for amusement, and I have given 
 up women. There is no chance of my being 
 reckoned in my old age one of those libidinous 
 dotards to whom light of loves 1 sell their 
 favours at an extravagant price." 
 
 " You are a happy man ! " the corregidor 
 said to him ; " and those people are wrong 
 
 1 The original has coquette. The older French writers some- 
 times employed the word coquette as a stronger term than galante. 
 Moliere applied it thus : In Monsieur de Pourceaugnac (act ii., 
 sc, 4), Sbrigani, in speaking of the character of Julia, Oronte's 
 daughter, says : " The word galante again, seems not enough ; that 
 of consummate coquette appears to me to serve our purpose." 
 Lesage seems to use coquette here with the meaning of Moliere. 
 However, in Le Eoux's Dictionnaire Comique, Satiriqiie, etc., new 
 edition, 1735, it is stated that " une femme ou fille peut etre un 
 pen coquette, sans encourir le blame"
 
 238 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 who suspect you of being a spy: such profession 
 is quite out of character for a man like you. 
 Continue, Don Bernard," he added, "to go 
 on living as you do. Far from wishing to 
 trouble your peaceful life, I declare myself 
 your protector; I ask for your friendship 
 and offer you mine." " Ah ! Senor," exclaimed 
 my master, touched by these obliging words, 
 "I accept the precious offer you have made 
 me with as much joy as respect. In granting 
 me your friendship, you increase my wealth, 
 and crown my happiness." After this con- 
 versation, which the alguazil and I overheard 
 from the closet door, the corregidor took his 
 leave of Don Bernard, who could not suffi- 
 ciently attest his gratitude. For my part, to 
 second my master, and help him to do the 
 honours of his house, I overwhelmed the 
 alguazil with civilities; I made him a thousand 
 low bows, although, from the bottom of my 
 heart, I felt for him the scorn and aversion 
 which every honest man naturally entertains 
 for an alguazil.
 
 GIL BLAS. 239 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS TO HIS ASTONISHMENT MET CAPTAIN 
 ROLANDO IN MADRID, AND THE CURIOUS THINGS 
 THIS ROBBER RELATED TO HIM. 
 
 DON BERNARD DE CASTIL BLAZO, after having 
 seen the corregidor to the street-door, came 
 back quickly to close his strong box, and all 
 the doors which secured it. Then we both 
 went out in a very good temper, he at having 
 acquired a powerful friend, and I at being 
 assured of my six reals a day. The desire of 
 relating this occurrence to Melendez made me 
 turn my steps towards his house, when, as I 
 was about to enter it, whom should I meet but 
 Captain Rolando. My surprise at seeing him 
 was extreme, and I could not help quaking at 
 the sight of him. He recognised me too, 
 accosted me gravely, and still maintaining 
 his air of superiority, bade me follow him. I 
 obeyed, trembling, and said to myself: " Alas, 
 he no doubt means to make me pay him all I 
 owe. Whither is he going to take me? 
 Perhaps he has got an underground cavern 
 in this town! Plague upon it ! if I thought 
 so, I would soon let him see I have no gout 
 in my feet." So I walked behind him, care- 
 fully looking out where he might stop, quite
 
 240 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 resolved to take to my heels if he led me to a 
 place which should seem the least suspicious. 
 
 Kolando soon dispersed my fears. He went 
 into a celebrated tavern, and I followed him. 
 He called for the best wine, and told the land- 
 lord to prepare dinner for us. Whilst it was 
 getting ready we went into a private room, 
 where the Captain, seeing that we were alone, 
 spoke as follows : " Gil Bias, you may well 
 be astonished to see again your old captain, 
 and you will be still more so after you have 
 heard my tale. On the day when I left you 
 in the cave, and went with my men to Mansilla 
 to sell the mules and horses we had taken 
 the evening before, we met the son of the 
 corregidor of Leon, accompanied by four men 
 on horseback, well armed, who were following 
 his carriage. We made two of these men bite 
 the dust, and the other two fled. Then the 
 coachman, fearing for his master, cried out in 
 beseeching tones : ' ! my dear gentlemen, in 
 the name of Heaven, do not kill the only son 
 of the corregidor of Leon ? These words did 
 not soften my men; on the contrary, their fury 
 knew no bounds. ' Gentlemen/ said one of 
 them, 'we must not permit the son of the 
 greatest enemy of our brotherhood to escape. 
 How many men of our profession has his father 
 put to death! Let us avenge them, let us 
 sacrifice this victim to their ashes, which seem 
 at this moment to demand it.' The whole
 
 GIL BLAS. 241 
 
 troop applauded this sentiment, and my lieu- 
 tenant was even making ready to act as high- 
 priest in this sacrifice, when I held his hand. 
 ' Stop,' I said to him, 4 why shed blood with- 
 out necessity? Let us be satisfied with this 
 young man's purse. As he does not resist, it 
 would be barbarous to kill him. Besides, he is 
 not responsible for his father's actions, and 
 his father only does his duty when he condemns 
 us to death, as we do ours in robbing travellers.' 
 Thus I interceded for the son of the corregidor, 
 and my intercession was not in vain. We 
 merely took all the money he had, and carried 
 off with us the horses of the two men 
 whom we had slain. We sold them with those 
 that we were taking to Mansilla. Then we 
 returned to the cave, where we arrived the 
 following morning, a few minutes before 
 dawn. We were not a little surprised to 
 find the trap-door open, and our surprise be- 
 came still greater when we saw Leonarda bound 
 in the kitchen. She told us all in a few words. 
 The remembrance of your colic made us laugh ; 
 we admired the way you had deceived us ; we 
 never thought you capable of playing such a 
 clever trick, and we pardoned you for the sake 
 of the stratagem. As soon as we had unbound 
 the cook, I ordered her to get us some food 
 ready. Meanwhile we went to look after our 
 horses in the stable, where the old negro, who 
 had been left to himself for four-and-twenty
 
 242 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 hours, was at death's door. We tried to succour 
 him? but he had lost consciousness ; and he 
 seemed to us so reduced that, in spite of our 
 endeavours, we left the poor devil between life 
 and death. That did not prevent us sitting 
 down to table ; and after having amply break- 
 fasted we retired to our rooms, where we slept 
 away the remainder of the day. When we woke 
 Leonarda told us that Domingo was no longer 
 alive. We carried him into the vault where 
 you may remember you used to sleep, and there 
 we buried him, as though he had had the 
 honour of being one of our own order. 
 
 " Five or six days afterwards it happened 
 that one morning as we were starting on an 
 expedition we met, just outside the wood, three 
 companies of troops of the Holy Brotherhood, 
 who seemed as though they were waiting to 
 attack us. We only saw one troop at first, and 
 despised them, though they were superior in 
 numbers. We attacked them; but while we 
 were engaged with them the two other 
 troops, who had contrived to remain concealed, 
 suddenly came and fell on us, so that our 
 valour was useless. We were obliged to yield 
 to so many enemies. Our lieutenant and two 
 of our men died on this occasion. The other 
 two and myself 1 were surrounded, and so 
 
 1 The original troop of robbers only consisted of eight men 
 besides Gil Bias (see book i., chaps, iii. and iv.), of whom one was 
 killed in the attack on Don Alvar de Mello. (See book i. chap, ix.)
 
 GIL BLAS. 243 
 
 closely pressed that we were taken prisoners ; 
 and whilst two detachments conducted us to 
 Leon, the third went to destroy our retreat, 
 which had been discovered in the way I will 
 tell you. A peasant of Luceno, passing through 
 the forest on his way home, happened to espy 
 the trap-door of our cave which you had not 
 closed after you, for this happened on the 
 very day when you left with the lady. He 
 suspected that it must be our dwelling, but 
 had not the courage to enter, and satisfied 
 himself with taking, notice of the spot. The 
 better to mark it he slightly notched with his 
 knife the bark from a few of the neighbouring- 
 trees, and so on at intervals, until he was quite 
 out of the wood. Then he betook himself 
 to Leon, in order to impart his discovery to the 
 corregidor, who was the more rejoiced at it as 
 his son had just been robbed by our band. 
 This magistrate collected three companies to 
 arrest us, and the peasant was their guide. 
 
 " My arrival in the town of Leon was a great 
 event for the inhabitants. If I had been a 
 Portuguese general, taken prisoner in war, the 
 people could not have been more eager to 
 see me. 1 ' There he is,' they said, ' there he 
 is; the famous captain, the terror of these 
 parts ! He deserves to be torn limb from limb 
 
 1 At the time when Rolando is supposed to be speaking there 
 was no war between Portugal and Spain ; the two kingdoms were 
 jointly ruled by Philip II.
 
 244 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 with red-hot pincers, and so do his two com- 
 rades.' We were taken before the corregidor, 
 who began to insult me. ' Well, wretch,' said 
 he, 'Heaven, weary with your irregularities, 
 delivers you over to justice ! r " Seiior," I 
 replied, " great as my crimes may have been, at 
 least I have not the death of your only son to 
 reproach myself with ; I saved his life, for 
 which you owe me some gratitude.' ' Ah, 
 villain,' he cried, ' ought fellows of your sort 
 to be treated with generosity ? And even if I 
 were willing to save you, the duties of my 
 office would not allow me to indulge my feel- 
 ings.' After saying these words he ordered 
 us to be cast into a dungeon, where he did 
 not let my companions linger long. They 
 were taken out at the end of three days 
 to play a tragic part in the market place. As 
 for me, I remained a good three weeks in 
 prison. I thought my punishment was being- 
 delayed only to make it more terrible, and 
 expected in the end some novel mode of being 
 put to death, when the corregidor, having 
 ordered me to be brought into his presence, 
 said to me : ' Listen to your sentence ! You 
 are free. But for you, my only son would have 
 been murdered on the highway. As a father 
 I was willing to show my gratitude for this 
 service; but as a magistrate I was not able to 
 acquit you ; I, therefore, wrote to the court on 
 your behalf, solicited your pardon, and have
 
 GIL BLAS. 245 
 
 obtained it. Go, then, wherever you please. 
 But,' he added, * take my advice, and profit by 
 this fortunate occurrence. Keflect seriously 
 on your past life, and give up brigandage for 
 ever.' 
 
 "I was deeply impressed by these words, 
 and I departed for Madrid, resolved to mend 
 my ways, and to settle down quietly in that 
 city. Here I found that my father and mother 
 were dead, and that their property was in 
 the hands of an old relative, who gave me a 
 faithful account of it, as all guardians do. I 
 could only recover three thousand ducats, 
 which was perhaps not a fourth of what I was 
 entitled to. But what could I do ? I should 
 gain nothing by going to law. To avoid being 
 idle, I have purchased an alguazil's place, of 
 which I discharge the duties as though I had 
 never done anything else in my life. My 
 brother officers might have opposed my admis- 
 sion, for the honour of the cloth, had they 
 known my history. Fortunately they were 
 ignorant of it, or pretended to be, which is the 
 same thing ; for in this honourable body, every 
 one has an interest in concealing his perform- 
 ances. Thank Heaven, we have no cause to 
 reproach one another ! The deuce is welcome 
 to the best ! However," my friend, Kolando 
 continued, " I will now disclose to you my 
 inmost thoughts. The profession which I 
 have chosen is hardly to my taste ; it requires
 
 216 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 a man to be too circumspect and too mysterious 
 in his conduct. You can practise nothing in 
 it, except secret and crafty deceptions. ! I 
 regret my former way of life ! I confess the 
 new one is safer; but there is more pleasure 
 in the old, and I like liberty. I have a good 
 mind to get rid of my place, and to set off some 
 fine morning for the mountains at the source 
 of the Tagus. 1 I know thereabout of a retreat, 
 inhabited by a numerous band, many of them 
 Catalonians ; 2 and when I have said that I 
 need say no more. If you will accompany 
 me, we shall go and swell the number of these 
 illustrious men. I shall be second in com- 
 mand ; and, to assure you a good reception, I 
 shall pledge my word that I have seen you 
 fight ten times by my side. I shall extol 
 your valour to the skies and say more good 
 of you than a general says of an officer he 
 wants to get promoted. I shall take care 
 not to mention the trick you played ; that 
 would draw suspicion on you ; I shall hold my 
 
 1 In Colmenar's Lcs Dtlices de I'Espagne, vol. i. p. 32 (see 
 INTRODUCTORY NOTICE), it is stated: "In the south of Spain, 
 below Moncayo, this mountain (the Sierra d'Occa) forms another 
 branch which is called Mount Orospeda. It rises gradually, and 
 takes the name of Sierra Molina, close to which the Tagus takes its 
 rise." 
 
 2 The Catalonians fought for a long time for their liberties, so 
 that their courage had become proverbial. Colmenar, in the third 
 volume of LesDllices de I'Espayne, p. 631, says, " The Catalonians 
 are bold, courageous, active, vigorous, and good soldiers, but rather 
 mutinous."
 
 GIL BLAS. 247 
 
 tongue about that adventure. And now, tell 
 me," lie added, "are you ready to follow me? 
 I wait for your answer." 
 
 " Each to his own liking," I said in my turn 
 to Rolando. " You are born for bold enter- 
 prises, and I for a quiet and tranquil life." 
 "I understand you," he broke in; "the lady 
 whom love induced you to carry off still rules 
 your heart, and no doubt you are living in 
 Madrid the quiet life that you prefer. Confess, 
 Master Gil Bias, that you have furnished a 
 house for her, and that you are living together 
 on the pistoles you carried off from the cave." 
 I assured him that he was mistaken, and to 
 disabuse him offered to tell him the story of 
 this lady, while we were at dinner. This I 
 did, and I also told him all that had happened 
 to me since I left the band. When our meal 
 was finished he brought me back to the subject 
 of the Catalonians. He even admitted that he 
 had resolved to go and join them, and renewed 
 his attempt to persuade me to take the same 
 course. But, seeing that he could not talk me 
 over, he suddenly changed his countenance and 
 his voice, looked at me fiercely, and said in 
 a very serious tone : " Since you have a soul 
 mean enough to prefer your servile condition 
 to the honour of entering a company of brave 
 men, I abandon you to the baseness of your 
 inclinations. But pay heed to the words I am 
 going to say ; let them sink into your memory.
 
 248 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Forget our meeting to-day, and never prate 
 about me to any one ; for if I learn that you 
 bring my name up in your conversation . . . 
 you know me; I need not say more." Having 
 thus expressed himself he called the landlord, 
 paid the reckoning, and we got up from the 
 table to depart. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 GIL BLAS IS DISMISSED BY DON BERNARD DE CASTIL 
 BLAZO, AND ENTERS INTO THE SERVICE OF A 
 BEAU. 
 
 As we were coming out of the tavern, and were 
 taking leave of each other, my master passed 
 down the street. He saw me, and I perceived 
 him look at the captain more than once. I 
 concluded that he was surprised to see me with 
 such a man. It is certain that Rolando's looks 
 were not prepossessing. He was very tall, had 
 a long face, and a hooked nose ; and though 
 he was not bad looking, bore the stamp of 
 rascality. 
 
 I was not mistaken in my conjectures. In 
 the evening I found Don Bernard harping on 
 the captain's appearance, and quite in a mood 
 to believe all the fine things I could have told 
 him, if I had dared to speak. " Gil Bias," he
 
 GI.L BLAS. 249 
 
 said, " who was that tall, ungainly fellow 
 whom I saw you with just now ? " I replied 
 that he was an alguazil, and fancied he would 
 be satisfied with this reply ; but he put many 
 other questions to me and as I seemed 
 embarrassed, because I remembered the threats 
 of Kolando, he suddenly brought the conversa- 
 tion to a close, and went to bed. The next 
 morning, when I had performed my usual duties, 
 he gave me six ducats instead of six reals, and 
 said to me : " There, friend, that is what I give 
 you for serving me up to this day. Go and 
 look out for another place; I cannot keep a 
 servant who has such fine acquaintances." It 
 occurred to me to tell him, for my justification, 
 that I knew this alguazil through having pre- 
 scribed for him in Valladolid, whilst I was 
 practising there as a physician. " Very well," 
 replied my master, " the excuse is ingenious ; 
 you should have told me that last night, and 
 not have been disconcerted." " Sir," I replied, 
 " the fact is I thought it better not to tell you 
 it, from a motive of prudence ; that is what 
 caused my embarrassment." " Verily," he 
 replied, tapping me lightly on the shoulder, 
 " that was very discreet ! I did not think you 
 were so sharp. Go. my lad, I dismiss you ; a 
 young fellow who has dealings with alguazils 
 is not at all to my taste." 
 
 I went immediately to acquaint Melendez 
 with this bad news; and he said, to console
 
 250 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 me, that he would get me into a better place. 
 Indeed, a few days later, he said to me : " Gil 
 Bias, my friend, you little think what good 
 luck is in store for you. You shall have the 
 most comfortable situation in the world. I 
 am going to place you with Don Mathias de 
 Silva. He is a man of the highest rank, one 
 of those young noblemen whom we call beaux. 
 I have the honour to supply him with goods ; 
 he buys his cloth from me on credit, it is 
 true; but we lose nothing with these lords, 
 for they often marry rich heiresses who pay 
 their debts ; and should that fail, a tradesman 
 who understands his business always sells to 
 them at such a high price that he loses 
 nothing if but a fourth of his accounts are paid. 
 The steward of Don Mathias," he continued, 
 "is my intimate friend. Let us go to him. 
 He shall himself present you to his master, 
 and you may rely upon it that, for my sake, 
 he will treat you with much consideration. 
 
 As we walked along to the house of Don 
 Mathias, the tradesman said to rne: "I think 
 it is as well that you should learn what sort of 
 a man the steward is, that you may act ac- 
 cordingly. His name is Gregorio Rodriguez. 
 Between ourselves, he is a man of no birth, 
 who, feeling himself born for business, followed 
 his bent, and has grown rich as steward of two 
 families, which have come to ruin. I warn you 
 he is very vain ; he likes to see the other
 
 GIL BLAS. 251 
 
 servants fawning on him. They must apply 
 to him first if they have the slighest favour to 
 ask of their master; for should they happen 
 to obtain it without his mediation, he always 
 contrives to get the favour recalled, or rendered 
 of no avail. Regulate your conduct by that, 
 Gil Bias. Pay court to Seiior Rodriguez, 
 rather than to your master himself, and do all 
 you can to please him. His friendship will be 
 very useful to you. He will pay your wages 
 punctually, and if you are clever enough 
 to win his confidence, he may give you some 
 little bone to pick. He has so many of them ! 
 Don Mathias is a young nobleman who thinks 
 only of his pleasures, and who will take no 
 trouble whatever about his own affairs. What 
 a house for a steward ! " 
 
 When we arrived at the house we asked to 
 speak to Sefior Rodriguez. We were told that 
 we should find him in his room. There sure 
 enough, he was, and with him a man who 
 seemed to be a peasant, holding a blue canvas 
 bag, full of money. The steward, who seemed 
 to me paler and yellower than a girl tired of 
 her celibacy, came up to Melendez, with open 
 arms. The tradesman, on the other hand, 
 stretched out his own, and they embraced each 
 other with demonstrations of friendship which 
 were as much indebted to art as to nature. 
 After that, I was brought forward. Rodriguez 
 looked at me from top to toe. Then he said
 
 252 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 to me very civilly that I was just the person 
 to suit Don Mathias, and that he would with 
 pleasure undertake to present me to his lordship. 
 Thereupon Melendez gave him to understand 
 how deeply he was interested in me. He 
 begged the steward to grant me his protection, 
 and left me with him, after many compliments. 
 As soon as he was gone, Rodriguez said to 
 me: "I shall take you to my master the 
 moment I have sent this honest countryman 
 away." Then he went up to the peasant, 
 and, taking his bag, said : " Talego, 1 let us see 
 if the five hundred pistoles are all right." He 
 himself counted the coins, found their number 
 correct, gave the farmer a receipt for the sum, 
 sent him away, and put again the money 
 into the bag. Then, addressing me he said : 
 " Now we can go to my master. He generally 
 gets up about noon, it is nearly one o'clock; 
 he must be stirring now." 
 
 In fact, Don Mathias had just risen. He 
 was still in his dressing-gown, reclining in an 
 easy-chair, having one leg stretched over one 
 of the arms, swinging backwards and for- 
 wards, manufacturing his own snuff, 2 and 
 talking to a footman, his valet de chambre for 
 the time being, who stood ready to wait on 
 him. "My lord," the steward said to him, 
 
 1 Talego is the Spanish, for "money-bag." 
 
 2 It was still the fashion when Lesage wrote Gil Bias, for 
 every snuff-taker to prepare in the morning the supply of the day.
 
 GIL BLAS. 253 
 
 " here is a young man whom I take the liberty 
 of presenting to you to fill the place of the 
 one you sent away the clay before yesterday. 
 Melenclez, the draper with whom you deal, 
 recommends him; he assures him to be a 
 meritorious lad, and I believe you will be satis- 
 fied with him." "That is enough," replied the 
 young lord ; " as you have introduced him to 
 me, I will receive him into my service without 
 any further inquiries. I appoint him my valet 
 de chambre, so that business is settled. Rodri- 
 guez," he added, " let us talk of something 
 else. You come opportunely, I was going to 
 send for you. I have bad news for you, my dear 
 Rodriguez ; I had a run of ill luck last night, 
 and, besides, a hundred pistoles I had in my 
 pocket, lost two hundred more on parole. 
 You know how important it is for people 
 of rank to discharge this kind of debt. It is 
 really the only one which honour obliges us to 
 pay punctually. And, indeed, we do not pay 
 the others very punctually. So you must 
 find two hundred pistoles at once, and send them 
 to the Countess dePedrosa." " My lord," said 
 the steward, " that is easier said than done. 
 Where, if you please, am I to get this sum ? 
 I cannot get a farthing from your tenants, 
 however much I threaten them. Meanwhile, 
 I have to keep up your establishment in style, 
 and toil and moil to meet your expenditure. 
 It is true that hitherto, Heaven be praised !
 
 251 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I have managed it ; but at present I do not 
 know which way to turn ; I am at my wits 
 end." " What is the good of all this talk ? " 
 Don Mathias broke in ; " these details only 
 weary me. Don't imagine, Rodriguez, that I 
 am going to change my conduct, and divert 
 myself by looking after my property. A nice 
 pastime that would be for a man of pleasure 
 like myself." " Only wait a little while," 
 replied the steward; "and at the rate things 
 are going on, I can see that you will soon be 
 rid of that trouble for ever." " You bore me," 
 exclaimed the young lord peevishly, " you are 
 killing me. Let me ruin myself without know- 
 ing it. I tell you I must have two hundred 
 pistoles; I must have them." "Then," said 
 Rodriguez, " we must have recourse to that 
 little old man who has already lent you money 
 at such a high rate of interest ? " " Go to the 
 devil, if you like," answered Don Mathias ; " so 
 long as I have the two hundred pistoles, I 
 don't care." 
 
 While he was uttering these words, hastily 
 and in a fretful tone, the steward left the 
 room; and a young nobleman, Don Antonio de 
 Centelles, 1 came in. " What is the matter, 
 my friend?" he asked my master. "You 
 look gloomy ; there is anger in your face. Who 
 can have put you into such a bad humour? 
 I will lay a wager it is that rascal who just 
 
 1 Centelles is the Spanish for " spark," " flash."
 
 GIL BLAS. 255 
 
 left you." " Yes," said Don Mathias, " it is my 
 steward. Whenever he comes to talk to me, 
 I have a bad time of it. He speaks to me 
 about my affairs; tells me I am spending 
 principal and interest. . . . What a fool ! 
 One would fancy he lost by it himself!" 
 " Why, lad," replied Don Antonio, "I am 
 exactly in the same condition. I have a man 
 of business who is no more rational than 
 your steward. When the rogue, in obedience 
 to my repeated commands, brings me some 
 money, you would say it was his own. He 
 always treats me to long arguments. ' Sir,' 
 says he, ' you are on the road to ruin, and 
 there is an execution out against you.' I am 
 obliged to cut him short, to stop his foolish 
 talk." " The mischief is," said Don Mathias, 
 " that we cannot do without those fellows ; 
 they are a necessary evil." " Just so," replied 
 Centelles . . . " But stop," he continued, 
 laughing heartily ; "a happy thought strikes 
 me ! Nothing better could be conceived. We 
 can turn the serious interviews we have with 
 them into a farce, and amuse ourselves with 
 that which now vexes us. Listen : let me try 
 and borrow from your steward all the money 
 you need, and you shall do the same with my 
 man of business ; then they may both' argue 
 as much as they like, we can listen to them 
 calmly. Your steward shall come with your 
 accounts to me ; my man of business shall go
 
 256 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 with mine to you. I shall only hear of your 
 extravagance, you will only see mine. It will 
 be very amusing." 
 
 A thousand jests succeeded this flight of 
 genius, and put the two young noblemen into 
 a good humour. They continued to converse 
 in a very lively fashion, till their talk was 
 interrupted by Gregorio Rodriguez, who came 
 back followed by a little old man, who was 
 almost entirely bald. Don Antonio was for 
 going away, and was saying: "good-bye, Don 
 Mathias, we shall meet again soon. I leave 
 you with these gentlemen. You have doubtless 
 some business of importance together." " Oh, 
 no," replied my master, "you had better stay, 
 you are not in our way. This discreet old 
 gentleman is an honest man who lends me 
 money at five-and-twenty per cent. " Five- 
 and-twenty per cent.," exclaimed Centelles, 
 astonished. "Egad! I congratulate you on 
 being in such good hands ; I am not so kindly 
 dealt with, and have to buy my money at an 
 extravagant price ; I generally borrow at fifty 
 per cent." " What extortion," said the old 
 usurer. " Where do these rogues expect to go 
 to when they die ? I am not at all surprised 
 at the hue and cry raised against people who 
 lend money on interest ! It is the exorbitant 
 profits which a few of them make on money 
 lent, that ruins our honour and reputation. If 
 all my brethren were like me, we should not be
 
 GIL BLAS. 257 
 
 so much reviled, for I never lend except to 
 befriend a fellow-creature. Ah ! if times were 
 now as good as they were formerly, my purse 
 would be at your service without any interest; 
 and, even in spite of the present scarcity, I 
 am almost ashamed of lending at five-and- 
 twenty per cent. But one would think the 
 money had all gone back into the bowels of 
 the earth; you cannot get at it, and its scarcity, 
 in short, compels me to restrain my benevolence. 
 "How much do you need?" he continued, 
 addressing my master. " Two hundred pistoles," 
 answered Don Mathias. "I have four hundred 
 here in a bag," replied the usurer ; " I will let 
 you have half of them." At the same time he 
 drew forth from under his cloak a blue canvas 
 bag, looking to me like the very one which the 
 peasant Talego had just left, with five hundred 
 pistoles, in the hands of Rodriguez. I soon 
 knew what to think about the matter, and I saw 
 clearly that Melencjez had not bragged about 
 the cleverness of his steward without sufficient 
 cause. The old man emptied the bag, displayed 
 the money on the table, and began to count it. 
 This sight roused the cupidity of my master ; 
 he was fascinated by the appearance of the 
 whole sum. " Senor Descomulgado," l said he 
 to the usurer, " I have just made a judicious 
 reflection. What a great fool I am only to 
 borrow to redeem my credit, and to forget that 
 
 l Descomulgado is the Spanish for " perverse, excommunicated." 
 i. K
 
 -'58 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 I have not got a penny ! I should be obliged 
 again to have recourse to you to-morrow. I 
 think I had better pocket the four hundred 
 pistoles to save you the trouble of coming 
 again." " My lord," replied the old man, " I 
 had intended part of this money for a good 
 licentiate, who has a large income which he 
 charitably employs in persuading young girls 
 to retire from the world, and in furnishing 
 their retreats ; but, as you need the whole 
 amount, it is at your service ; all you have 
 to do is to think of the security. . ." " 0, as 
 for security," Rodriguez interrupted, taking a 
 slip of paper from his pocket, "you shall have a 
 good one. Here is an order which Don Mathias 
 merely has to sign. It is a draft for five hundred 
 pistoles on one of his tenants, Talego, a rich 
 farmer of Mondejar." " That is all right," 
 said the usurer, " I am sure I raise no diffi- 
 culties, I accept straight off any reasonable 
 proposal, without circumlocution." Then the 
 steward offered his master a pen, and the latter, 
 without reading the order, wrote his name at 
 the bottom of the draft, whistling as he did so. 
 This business settled, the old man took leave 
 of my master, who ran up to embrace him, 
 saying: " Till our next meeting, master usurer; 
 I am wholly yours. I don't know why you 
 fellows are all thought to be rogues. You 
 seem to me very necessary to the State ; you 
 are the consolation of thousands of young men
 
 GIL BLAS. 259 
 
 of rank, and the resource of all noblemen 
 whose expenditure exceeds their income." 
 " You are right," cried Centelles; " usurers are 
 gentlemen whom we cannot sufficiently respect, 
 and I too must embrace this man in honour 
 of his five-and-twenty per cent." Thereupon 
 he drew near, threw his arms around the old 
 man's neck; and these two beaux began for 
 their amusement to push him backwards and 
 forwards, like two tennis players bandying a 
 ball. After they had tossed him about for 
 some time they suffered him to depart with the 
 steward, who deserved these embraces more 
 than the usurer, and something else into the 
 bargain. 
 
 When Rodriguez and his tool were gone, 
 Don Mathias sent the footman who had been 
 present at the scene as well as myself, with 
 half the pistoles to the Countess de Pedrosa, 
 and secured the other half in a long purse 
 embroidered with gold and silk, which he 
 generally carried in his pocket. Well pleased 
 at being again provided with cash, he said gaily 
 to Don Antonio : " Let us consider, what shall 
 we do with ourselves to-day?" "You speak 
 like a man of sense," replied Centelles; " I am 
 willing. Let us deliberate." Whilst they 
 were pondering what course to pursue that 
 day, two other noblemen came in : Don Alexo 
 Segiar and Don Fernando de Gamboa; both 
 about my master's age, that is, from twenty-
 
 260 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 eight to thirty. These four gentlemen began 
 with such a lively interchange of embraces, 
 that any one would have said they had not met 
 these ten years. After this Don Fernando, a 
 stout and jovial fellow, addressing himself to 
 Don Mathias and Don Antonio, said: "Gentle- 
 men, where do you dine to-day? If you are 
 not engaged, I shall take you to a place where 
 you shall quaff nectar; I supped there last 
 night, and came away between five and six 
 this morning." "I wish to Heaven," exclaimed 
 my master, "that I had spent the night as 
 wisely ! I should not have lost my money." 
 
 " As for me," said Centelles, " I treated my- 
 self to a new amusement last night. I like to 
 change my pleasures, for it is only a variety 
 of diversions which makes life agreeable. A 
 friend took me to one of those gentlemen who 
 collect the taxes, and manage at the same time 
 the State's business, as well as their own. 
 Every thing there was magnificent and in 
 good taste ; and the meal seemed to be pretty 
 well served up; but the people of the house 
 were so ridiculous that my fancy was tickled. 
 This farmer of the revenue, though one of 
 the most plebeian of his class, assumed the 
 airs of a man of rank ; and his wife, though 
 hideously ugly, affected to be a beauty, and 
 said a thousand silly things, flavoured with a 
 Biscayan accent that gave zest to their foolish- 
 ness. Add to this, that there were four or five
 
 GIL BLAS. 261 
 
 children at table, with their tutor, and you may 
 imagine if this family supper party amused 
 
 me." 
 
 "I supped with Arsenia, the actress," said 
 Don Alexo Segiar. " There were six of us 
 to supper : Arsenia, Florimonda, and a little 
 coquette whom she knew, the Marquis de 
 Zenette, Don Juan de Moncada, and your 
 humble servant. We spent the night in 
 drinking and talking in a very free and easy 
 manner. It was very pleasant. To be sure, 
 Arsenia and Florimonda are not endowed with 
 much genius; but they have an experience in 
 wickedness which supplies the place of wit. 
 They are merry, lively, romping creatures : is 
 not that a hundred times better than your 
 women of sense ?" 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HOW GIL BLAS BECAME ACQUAINTED WITH THE 
 SERVANTS OP THE BEAUX. THEY IMPART 
 TO HIM THE ADMIRABLE SECRET OF EASILY 
 ACQUIRING THE REPUTATION OF A WIT; AND 
 THE SINGULAR OATH WHICH THEY MAKE HIM 
 TAKE. 
 
 THESE noblemen went on talking in this strain, 
 until Don Mathias, whom in the meantime I 
 was helping to dress, was ready to go out.
 
 262 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 Then he told me to follow him, and all the 
 beaux went together to the tavern whither Don 
 Fernando de Gamboa had proposed to take 
 them. I walked behind them with three other 
 servants; for each of the gentlemen had his 
 own. I observed with astonishment that these 
 three servants imitated their masters, and gave 
 themselves the same airs. I took off iny hat to 
 them as I was a new comer ; they returned the 
 compliment, and one of them, after looking at 
 me for a few minutes, said : " Brother, I can 
 see by your manner that you have never 
 yet lived with a young nobleman." " Alas, 
 no!" I answered; "I have not been long in 
 Madrid." "I should have thought so," he 
 replied, "you smack of the provinces; you 
 seem timid and awkward ; there is a sort of 
 stiffness in your bearing. But no matter, we 
 shall soon polish you, take my word for it." 
 " I am afraid you flatter me," I said. " No," 
 he replied, "no; there is not such a big fool 
 we cannot lick into shape ; you may rely upon 
 that." 
 
 He had no need to say more to convince me 
 that my comrades were good fellows, and that 
 I could not be in better hands for being turned 
 into a lad of mettle. When we got to the 
 tavern we found a meal ready prepared, which 
 Don Fernando had taken the precaution of 
 ordering in the morning. Our masters sat 
 down, and we stood ready to wait on them.
 
 GIL BLAS. 263 
 
 The conversation was very lively, and I took 
 vast pleasure in listening to it. Their character, 
 their thoughts, their mode of expressing them- 
 selves delighted me. What vivacity ! What 
 play of fancy ! These gentlemen seemed to 
 me a new species! When the dessert was 
 brought on the table we set before them a large 
 supply of bottles of the best Spanish wine, and 
 left the room, to go and dine ourselves in a 
 small parlour where a table had been laid 
 for us. 
 
 I soon saw that the combatants in our 
 lists possessed even more merit than I had at 
 first imagined. They were not content with 
 assuming the manners of their masters, they 
 even affected their language ; and the rascals 
 reproduced it so well that, save for a certain 
 air of breeding, it was the same thing over 
 again. I admired their free and easy carriage; 
 I was still more charmed by their wit ; but I 
 despaired of ever becoming as agreeable as 
 they. Don Fernando's servant, because his 
 master was treating ours, did the honours of 
 the meal ; and as he was determined that 
 nothing should be wanting, he called the land- 
 lord, and said to him, " Master tapster, give 
 us ten bottles of your best wine ; and you 
 can add them to my master's bill as you 
 usually do." " With pleasure," replied the 
 landlord ; " but, Master Gaspard, you know 
 that Don Fernando already owes me for a good
 
 264 THE ADVENTURES OP 
 
 many entertainments. If through your inter- 
 vention I could get some little cash. . ." "0," 
 interrupted the valet, " don't trouble yourself 
 about what is due ; I guarantee it ; my master's 
 debts are as good as gold. It is true that a 
 few unmannerly creditors have laid an embargo 
 on our income ; but we shall soon obtain a 
 replevy, and then we shall pay you without so 
 much as examining your account." The land- 
 lord brought us some wine, in spite of the 
 embargo, and we drank it, on the credit of 
 the replevy. It was worth while to see how 
 we drank each other's healths every instant, 
 addressing one another by our master's names. 
 The servant of Don Antonio called Don 
 Fernando 's servant Gamboa, and Don Fer- 
 nando's servant called Don Antonio's Centelles : 
 in like manner they called me Silva ; and we 
 gradually became tipsy under these borrowed 
 names, as did the noblemen to whom they 
 rightly belonged. 
 
 Though I was less brilliant than my com- 
 rades, they nevertheless admitted that they 
 were rather pleased with me. " Silva," said one 
 of the sprightliest among them, " we shall make 
 something of you, my friend : I can see that 
 you have plenty of genius, but you do not 
 know how to turn it to account. The fear of 
 speaking foolishly prevents you from saying 
 anything off-hand; but it is only by blurting out 
 their talk that now-a-days thousands of men
 
 GIL BLAS. 265 
 
 set up as wits. If you want to shine you have 
 only to abandon yourself to vivacity, and give 
 forth without hesitation all that comes to the 
 tip of your tongue; your very blunders will pass 
 for a noble audacity. Though you should utter 
 a hundred inanities, let but one witticism 
 escape you, and all your silly sayings will be 
 forgotten ; the sally will be remembered, and a 
 high opinion will be formed of your merits. 
 That is what our masters practice so success- 
 fully, and that is what every man must do 
 who aspires to the reputation of being a 
 distinguished wit." 
 
 I was only too anxious to pass for a genius, 
 and the secret of success which was imparted to 
 me seemed so easy, that I determined- not to 
 neglect it. I made trial of it forthwith, and 
 the wine I had drunk contributed to my success. 
 I spoke at random, and had the good fortune to 
 strike out among a hundred absurdities a few 
 flashes of wit, which secured applause. This 
 first attempt inspired me with confidence; I 
 redoubled my vivacity to produce some bright 
 sally, and chance again decided that my efforts 
 should not be in vain. 
 
 " Well," said my fellow-servant, who had 
 addressed me in the street, "are you not begin- 
 ning to shake off your rustic manners ? You 
 have not been two hours in our company, and 
 you are already quite another man ; you will 
 go on changing appreciably day by day. See
 
 266 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 what it is to be in the service of people of 
 
 quality ! It elevates the mind ; and situations 
 
 with citizens can never do this." "You are 
 
 right," I answered; "and, therefore, I mean 
 
 henceforth to devote my services entirely to 
 
 the nobility." " That is well said," cried Don 
 
 Fernando's servant, partly intoxicated. "It is 
 
 not for plebeians to own superior geniuses such 
 
 as we are. Come, gentlemen," he added ; " let 
 
 us take an oath that we will never serve such 
 
 fellows ; let us swear it by Styx ! " We 
 
 received this proposal with applause; and 
 
 glasses in hand, took this burlesque oath. 
 
 We remained at table until our masters were 
 
 pleased to get up. This was at midnight; 
 
 which seemed to my colleagues an excessive 
 
 instance of sobriety. To be sure, their lordships 
 
 left the inn thus early only to proceed to the 
 
 house of a celebrated wanton, who lived in the 
 
 court-quarter, and whose house was open night 
 
 and day to men of pleasure. She was a 
 
 woman from thirty-five to forty, still extremely 
 
 handsome, entertaining, and so skilled in the 
 
 art of pleasing that it was said she sold what 
 
 was left of her beauty at a higher price than she 
 
 had obtained for its first fruits. There were 
 
 always two or three other first-class ladies of a 
 
 similar kind at her house, who contributed not 
 
 a little to the numerous gathering of noblemen 
 
 who frequented it. In the afternoon there was 
 
 gambling going on; then supper was served.
 
 GIL BLAS. 267 
 
 and the night spent in drinking and making 
 merry. Here our masters remained until 
 daylight, and so did we, without thinking the 
 time long; for whilst they were with the 
 mistresses, we amused ourselves with the maids. 
 At length we separated about dawn, and each 
 of us went to bed at his own place. 
 
 My master having risen as usual about noon, 
 dressed and went out. I followed him, and we 
 paid a visit to Don Antonio Centelles, where 
 we found a certain Don Alvaro de Acuna, an 
 old gentleman, and a professed debauchee. 
 The rising generation, if they wished to become 
 fine gentlemen, put themselves in his hands. 
 He trained them to pleasure, and taught them 
 how to shine in society and to spend their 
 patrimony. He no longer feared to consume 
 his own ; this had already been done. After 
 these three gentlemen had embraced each 
 other, Centelles said to my master : " Gad, 
 Don Mathias, you could not have come at a 
 better time ! Don Alvaro has come to take me 
 to a dinner, given by a citizen to the Marquis 
 de Zenette and to Don Juan de Moncada: 
 I want you to be of our party." " And what is 
 this citizen's name?" asked Don Mathias. 
 "Gregorio de Noriega," said Don Alvaro, 
 " and I will tell you in half a dozen words the 
 character of the young fellow. His father, a 
 rich jeweller, has gone abroad to deal in 
 precious stones, and left him, when he set out,
 
 268 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 in the enjoyment of a handsome income. 
 Gregorio is a blockhead inclined to spend all 
 his property, who apes the beau, and would 
 fain pass for a man of wit, in the teeth of nature. 
 He has begged me to be his guide. I am his 
 Mentor, and I can assure you, gentlemen, that 
 I am leading him a pretty dance. His capital 
 is already nearly all spent." " I do not doubt 
 it," exclaimed Centelles ; "I already see the 
 cit in the workhouse. Come, Don Mathias," he 
 continued, " let us make this man's acquaint- 
 ance, and help to ruin him." "Willingly," my 
 master replied ; "I do so like to see the 
 fortunes of these little upstarts marred; 
 fellows who fancy people mistake them for us ! 
 Now, nothing pleased me so much as the 
 downfall of that publican's son, whom play 
 and the desire of figuring amongst the great 
 have compelled to sell everything, till he has 
 not a house over his head." "0, as for him," 
 replied Don Antonio, " he deserves no pity; he 
 is as great a coxcomb in adversity as he was in 
 prosperity." 
 
 Centelles and my master proceeded with 
 Don Alvaro to the house of Gregorio de Noriega. 
 We went there also, Mogicon 1 and myself, both 
 delighted to find a feast going on, and to 
 contribute our share in ruining a citizen. When 
 we entered we found several men employed in 
 
 1 Mogicon is the Spanish for " a blow given on the face with 
 the fist clenched ;" and also " a kind of sweetmeat."
 
 GIL BLAS. 269 
 
 getting ready the dinner, and from the dishes 
 which they were preparing came a steam which 
 favourably prejudiced the palate through the 
 nostrils. The Marquis de Zenette and Don 
 Juan de Moncada had just arrived. The 
 master of the house appeared to me a great 
 simpleton. He vainly 'attempted to assume 
 the pleasant manners of the beaux ; it was a 
 very bad copy of those excellent originals, or 
 rather, it was an idiot trying to give himself 
 an air of nonchalance. Fancy a man of this 
 kind amongst five wags all intent on making 
 fun of him, and on drawing him into extrava- 
 gance. " Gentlemen," said Don Alvaro, after 
 the first compliments, " let me introduce to 
 you Seilor Gregorio de Noriega as a most 
 finished gentleman, who possesses a great 
 number of good qualities. I can assure you 
 he has a highly cultivated mind. If you'll 
 choose your own subjects, you'll find that 
 he is equally strong on all points, from the 
 most fine-spun subtleties of logic up to ortho- 
 graphy." " ! that is too flattering ! " inter- 
 rupted the citizen, laughing awkwardly. " I 
 might return the compliment, Seilor Alvaro; it 
 is you who are what we call a well of erudition." 
 " I did not intend," replied Don Alvaro, "to 
 fish for such delicate praise ; but, upon my 
 word, gentlemen, Seilor Gregorio cannot fail 
 to establish a name in society." " What 
 charms me in him," said Don Antonio, " and
 
 270 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 what I even prize above orthography, is the 
 judicious choice he makes of the men with 
 whom he associates. Instead of confining 
 himself to the society of citizens, he wishes to 
 associate with none but young noblemen, 
 heedless of what it may cost him. There is an 
 elevation of feeling in such behaviour which 
 enchants me ; that is what you may indeed call 
 spending money with taste and discernment ! " 
 These ironical speeches were but the preludes 
 to many more of the same sort. Poor 
 Gregorio was fooled to the top of his bent by 
 the beaux, who alternately showered upon him 
 jests, the bearing of which the nincompoop 
 never perceived. On the contrary, he took all 
 that was said to him in sober earnest, and 
 seemed highly gratified with his guests. It 
 even seemed that by turning him into ridicule 
 they conferred a favour upon him. In short, 
 he served as their butt the 'whole time they 
 were at table ; and they remained there for the 
 rest of the afternoon, and throughout the 
 night. We drank as much as we liked, as well 
 as our masters; and when we left the cit's 
 house, we were all in the best of trim.
 
 GIL BLAS. 271 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 GIL BLAS SETS UP FOR A GALLANT, AND MAKES THE 
 ACQUAINTANCE OP A FINE LADY. 
 
 AFTER some hours' sleep I rose in a good 
 humour; and remembering the advice which 
 Melendez had given me, I went, until such time 
 as my master might be getting up, to pay my 
 court to our steward, whose vanity seemed not 
 a little flattered by my attention in presenting 
 my respects to him. He received me graciously, 
 and asked if I liked the life I was leading. 
 I told him it was new to me, but that I did not 
 despair of growing accustomed to it in time. 
 
 In fact I did grow accustomed to it, and 
 that very soon. My temper and disposition 
 were quite altered. From being prudent and 
 sedate, as 1 had been before, I became a pert 
 and heedless merry-andrew. Don Antonio's 
 valet complimented me on my metamorphosis, 
 and said that I wanted nothing to be complete 
 but to have an intrigue. He pointed out 
 to me that this was absolutely necessary to 
 put a finish on a pretty fellow; that all our 
 comrades were loved by some fair lady or 
 other; and that, for his part, he could boast 
 of the favours of two ladies of quality. I 
 concluded that the rogue was telling a false- 
 hood. " Master Mogicon," said I, " you are
 
 272 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 no doubt a handsome, witty young fellow, with 
 merits of your own; but I do not see how 
 ladies of quality, in whose establishments you 
 are not engaged, could be charmed by a man 
 of your condition." " Why, to tell you the 
 truth," he replied, "they do not know who I 
 am. It is in my master's clothes, and even 
 under his name that I have made these con- 
 quests. I will tell you how ; I dress myself 
 like a young nobleman, assume the manners of 
 one, walk about, and ogle all the women I 
 see, until I meet with one who responds to 
 my overtures. Then I follow, and contrive 
 to speak to her, telling her that I am Don 
 Antonio Centelles. I ask for an interview; 
 the lady stands on ceremony ; I am pressing, 
 she yields; and so forth. That, my lad, is 
 how I manage to carry on my gallantries, and 
 I should advise you to follow my example." 
 
 I was too anxious to make a figure not to 
 listen to this counsel ; besides, I was not loth 
 to enter on an amorous intrigue. Therefore, I 
 resolved to disguise myself as a young noble- 
 man, and go in search of adventures. I dare 
 not disguise myself at our house, from fear of 
 being observed ; so I took a complete suit from 
 my master's wardrobe, made it into a bundle, 
 and carried it to a little barber's whom I knew, 
 where I thought I might dress and undress 
 conveniently. There I got myself up as fine as 
 possible. The barber also lent a hand in my
 
 GIL BLAS. 273 
 
 adornment, and when we thought the effect 
 could not be improved, I strolled towards the 
 meadow of Saint Jerome, whence I felt quite 
 sure I should not return without having set 
 an intrigue on foot. But I was not obliged 
 to go so far before I had a most brilliant 
 beginning. 
 
 As I was crossing a bye-street I saw a richly 
 dressed and most handsome lady come out of a 
 small house and enter a hackney carriage that 
 stood at the door. I stopped short to look 
 at her, and bowed to her in such a manner as to 
 convey to her that she did not displease me. 1 
 She, on her side, to show that she deserved my 
 attention still more than I thought, raised her 
 veil for a moment, and presented to my eyes 
 a most lovely face. Meanwhile the carriage 
 drove off, and I remained in the street, dazzled 
 by the features I had just beheld. " What a 
 lovely face," I said to myself; "this is just what 
 is wanting to make me perfectly accomplished. 
 If the two ladies who love Mogicon are as 
 beautiful as this one, he is a lucky knave. 
 I should be charmed with my fate if I had 
 
 1 In the Voyages f aits en divers temps en Espagne . . . et ailleurs, 
 it is stated that "when Spanish ladies go about the town or elsewhere 
 alone and not accompanied by gentlemen, it is allowable to ask 
 them anything one can think of, without any fear of offending 
 them ; and if one lets them pass without saying something gallant, 
 which they call agacacos, they hold you in but small estimation." 
 Yan Sommelsdyck says also that titled ladies and respectable women 
 hardly ever leave their houses.
 
 274 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 such a mistress." Musing on these things, I 
 happened to cast my eyes on the house from 
 which this fair creature had emerged, and saw, 
 at the window of a lower room, an old woman 
 who beckoned me to enter. 
 
 I instantly hastened into the house, and 
 found in a pretty well furnished room, a 
 venerable and discreet matron, who, taking 
 me for a marquis at least, dropped a respectful 
 curtsey, and said to me " Senor, I fear that 
 you must have a bad opinion of a woman who, 
 without knowing you, beckons you to come 
 into her house; but you will perhaps judge 
 more favourably of me when you shall know 
 that I do not treat everybody in this manner. 
 You seem to be a lord at court." " You are not 
 mistaken, my good woman," I broke in, stretch- 
 ing out my right leg, and poising myself on my 
 left hip; "I am, without boasting, of one of 
 the best families of Spain." " I thought so by 
 your appearance," she replied, " and I will 
 fairly own that I like to oblige people of 
 quality ; that is my weak point. I watched you 
 through the window, looking very attentively 
 at a lady who has just left me. Perhaps you 
 have taken a fancy to her? tell me so plainly." 
 " On the honour of a courtier," I rejoined, " she 
 has captivated me. I have never seen any 
 woman who charmed me more. Bring us 
 together, my good lady, and count on my 
 gratitude. It is not a bad thing to render
 
 GIL BLAS. 275 
 
 services of this kind to us noblemen; they are 
 not those for which we pay the worst." 
 
 " As I have already said," replied the old 
 woman, " I am entirely devoted to people of 
 quality ; I take a pleasure in being useful to 
 them. In this house, for instance, I receive 
 certain ladies whom appearances prevent from 
 seeing their gallants at home. I lend them my 
 house, that they may reconcile the warmth of 
 their affection with the proprieties." " Excel- 
 lent," said I to her; "and so I suppose you 
 have granted this favour to the lady in ques- 
 tion?" "No," she replied, "that lady is a 
 young widow of quality in search of a lover ; 
 but she is so hard to please in the matter that 
 I do not know if you will suit her, whatever 
 merits you may possess. I have already 
 presented to her three strongly built noblemen, 
 whom she has refused." " 0, zounds ! my 
 dear," I exclaimed with an air of assurance, 
 " you have only to put me in her way. I shall 
 give you a good account of her, take my word 
 for it. I long for a private interview with a 
 coy beauty. I have never met one of that 
 kind." "Well," said the old woman, "you 
 need only come here to-morrow about the same 
 time, and your curiosity shall be satisfied." 
 "I shall be punctual," I replied; "we shall 
 see if a young nobleman such as I can fail in 
 making a conquest." 
 
 I returned to the little barber's, not caring to
 
 276 THE ADVENTUKES OF 
 
 look for other adventures, and very impatient 
 for the sequel to this one. On the following 
 day, therefore, after dressing again very care- 
 fully, I went to the old woman's an hour earlier 
 than was necessary. " Seiior," she said, " you 
 are punctual, and I am glad of it. It is true 
 that the prize is worth the trouble. I have 
 seen our young widow, and we have spoken a 
 good deal about you. I am forbidden to say 
 anything; but I have taken such a liking to 
 you that I cannot be silent. You have pleased, 
 and you will be made happy. Between our- 
 selves, the lady is a delicious creature ; her 
 husband did not live long with her; he just 
 came and went like a shadow : she is just like 
 a young girl." The honest old woman, doubt- 
 less, meant one of those intelligent girls who 
 are clever enough to live single, without growing 
 weary of it. 
 
 The heroine of the assignation soon arrived, 
 in a hired carriage, as on the previous day, and 
 superbly dressed. As soon as she appeared in 
 the room I made five or six foppish bows, 
 accompanied by the most graceful contortions. 
 After this I approached her with a very familiar 
 manner, and said, " My queen, you behold a 
 young nobleman who is thoroughly captivated. 
 Since yesterday your image has been constantly 
 recurring to my mind, and you have driven 
 out of my heart a duchess who was beginning 
 to establish a footing there." " The triumph
 
 GIL BLAS. 277 
 
 is too glorious for me," she replied, removing 
 her veil ; " but my joy is not unalloyed. Young 
 noblemen love variety, and they say their 
 hearts are more difficult to keep than to empty 
 Fortunatus' purse." 1 "Ah, my sovereign 
 mistress," I replied, " let us not think of the 
 future, I pray you ; let us consider the present 
 only. You are handsome, I am in love. If 
 my passion is agreeable to you, let us link our 
 hearts without reflection. Let us put off from 
 land like sailors ; let us not look to the dangers 
 of the voyage, but only to its pleasures." 
 
 Whilst uttering these words I threw myself 
 in raptures at the feet of my nymph ; and, the 
 better to imitate men of rank, I urged her 
 vehemently to complete my happiness. She 
 seemed to be somewhat moved by my entreaties, 
 but thought it too soon to yield, and said, as 
 she pushed me away: " Hold, you are too 
 forward ; you behave like a libertine ; I sadly 
 fear you are only a little rake." " For shame, 
 Madam," I cried ; " can you dislike what all 
 distinguished ladies love? None but a few 
 citizens' wives object to libertinism." " That 
 is decisive," she replied, " I yield to so strong 
 an argument. I see plainly that affectation is 
 useless with you noblemen : a woman must 
 needs meet you half way. Learn then your 
 
 1 According to the Piacevoli Notte of the Italian author 
 Straparola, who died about 1557, Fortunatus had a purse given 
 him by Fortune, which was inexhaustible. In French such a 
 supply of coin is called la pistole volante.
 
 278 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 triumph," she added, with a show of con- 
 fusion, as though her modesty suffered from 
 the avowal ; " you have inspired me with senti- 
 ments I never felt for anyone else, and I only 
 wish to know who you are before I resolve to 
 choose you for my lover. I believe you to be 
 a young nobleman, and even a man of honour : 
 but yet I am not sure of it ; and however 
 prepossessed I may be in your favour, I shall 
 not bestow my affections on a person whom I 
 do not know." 
 
 I immediately remembered how Don An- 
 tonio's servant had told me he escaped from 
 a similar predicament, and meaning, like him, 
 to pass for my master, I said to the widow : 
 " Madam, I will not hesitate to tell you my 
 name, which I need not be ashamed to own. 
 Have you ever heard of Don Mathias de 
 Silva?" "Yes," she replied; "I have even 
 met him at a friend's house." Though bold 
 enough by this time, I was rather disconcerted 
 by this reply ; but I recovered myself instantly ; 
 and calling up my presence of mind to extri- 
 cate me, I said, " Well, my darling, you know 
 a nobleman . . . whom ... I know also . . . 
 I am related to him, if I must tell you. His 
 grandfather married the sister-in-law of one 
 of my father's uncles. So you see we are 
 rather near relations. My name is Don Ceesar. 
 I am the only son of the illustrious Don 
 Fernando de Bibera, who was slain fifteen
 
 GIL BLAS. 279 
 
 years ago in a battle fought on the frontiers 
 of Portugal. I could give you all the parti- 
 culars of the action; it was devilish warm 
 work ; but this would be losing precious 
 moments which love prompts me to employ 
 more agreeably." 
 
 I became urgent and impassioned after this 
 speech; but to no purpose. The favours 
 which my goddess suffered me to take, only 
 made me sigh for those which she refused me. 
 The hard-hearted creature went back to her 
 ^carriage, which was waiting for her at the door. 
 Nevertheless, I went away well satisfied with 
 my good fortune, though I was not yet perfectly 
 happy. " If," said I to myself, " I have re- 
 ceived but half-kindnesses, it is because this 
 lady is a woman of rank, who thinks she ought 
 not to yield to my transports in a first interview. 
 Her pride of birth has retarded my happiness ; 
 but it is only delayed for a few days." To be- 
 sure I also thought she might be a very 
 clever adventuress ; yet I preferred to look on 
 the matter from its best side, and retained the 
 favourable opinion I had conceived of the 
 widow. We had agreed at parting to meet 
 again two days after ; and the hope of attain- 
 ing the summit of my desires gave me a 
 foretaste of the pleasures I anticipated. 
 
 With my mind full of the most agreeable 
 ideas, I returned to the barber's. Having 
 changed my dress I went to wait upon my
 
 280 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 master at a tennis-court where I knew he was. 
 I found him playing, and perceived that he 
 was winning; for he was not one of those 
 phlegmatic players who enrich or ruin them- 
 selves without changing countenance. He 
 was full of jests, and overbearing when in 
 luck, and very sulky when losing. He left the 
 tennis-court in good humour, and went to 
 the Prince's Theatre. I followed him to the 
 door; and then, putting a ducat in my hand, he 
 said : " Here, Gil Bias, as I have won to-day I 
 wish you also to feel the benefit of it ; go and v 
 enjoy yourself with your friends, and come to 
 me at midnight to Arsenia's, where I am to 
 sup with Don Alexo Segiar." After having 
 said this he went in, and I remained pondering 
 with whom I could spend my ducat, accord- 
 ing to the intention of the giver. I did not 
 muse long; Clarin, 1 Don Alexo's servant, 
 suddenly came in sight; I took him to 
 the nearest tavern, and there we amused 
 ourselves till midnight. Thence we betook 
 ourselves to Arsenia's house, where Clarin 
 also had orders to attend. A small foot-boy 
 opened the door, and took us into a lower 
 room, where the maids of Arsenia and 
 Florimonda were laughing aloud and gossiping, 
 whilst their mistresses were above with our 
 masters. 
 
 The arrival of two jolly fellows who had just 
 
 1 Clarin is the Spanish for " a trumpet."
 
 GIL BLAS. 281 
 
 enjoyed a good supper, could not be displeas- 
 ing to a couple of maids, and these the maids 
 of actresses ; but what was my astonishment 
 when in one of these girls I recognised my 
 widow, my adorable widow, whom I took for 
 a countess or a marchioness ! She seemed not 
 less astonished to see her dear Don Cesar de 
 Ribera changed into a beau's servant. Never- 
 theless, we looked at each other without be- 
 traying ourselves ; indeed we both felt such a 
 desire to laugh that we could not help indulg- 
 ing in it. After which, Laura, for that was her 
 name, taking me aside, whilst Clarin was speak- 
 ing to her companion, graciously held out her 
 hand, saying in a low voice : " Shake hands, 
 Don Cesar ; instead of reproaching each other, 
 let us congratulate our selves, my friend. You 
 played your part to perfection, and I did not 
 do mine amiss. What say you ? Confess that 
 you took me for one of those pretty women of 
 quality who like to carry on an intrigue." 
 "It is even so," I replied, "but be you who you 
 may, my queen, I have not changed my feel- 
 ings with my dress. I beg you to accept my 
 services, and permit the servant of Don Mathias 
 to complete what Don Cesar so happily began." 
 "Indeed! " she answered; " I like you much 
 better in your own character than in that of 
 another. You are as a man what I am as a 
 woman, which is the greatest praise 1 can give 
 you. You are admitted amongst the number
 
 282 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 of my worshippers. We do not need the old 
 woman any more ; you can come here and see 
 me whenever you like. We theatrical ladies 
 live without constraint, and familiarly with the 
 men. No doubt the consequences are visible 
 sometimes ; but the public only laugh at it, and 
 it is our business, you know, to amuse them." 
 
 Then we broke off, because we were not 
 alone. The talk became general, sprightly, 
 cheerful, and charged with double meaning. 
 Each of us contributed his share. Arsenia's 
 attendant especially, my lovely Laura, shone 
 greatly, and displayed far more wit than 
 virtue. We could also hear our masters and 
 the actresses indulging in fits of laughter; 
 which made me suppose that their conversa- 
 tion was quite as rational as our own. If 
 all the fine things which were said that night 
 at Arsenia's had been written down, I fancy 
 that a very instructive book for the rising 
 generation might have been made out of them. 
 At last the time for departure, that is daybreak, 
 arrived ; and we were obliged to separate. 
 Clarin followed Don Alexo, and I went home 
 with Don Mathias.
 
 GIL BLAS. 283 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 THE CONVERSATION OF CERTAIN NOBLEMEN ABOUT 
 THE ACTORS OF THE PRINCE'S COMPANY. 
 
 THE next morning my master, whilst lie was 
 dressing, received a letter from Don Alexo 
 Segiar, desiring him to come to his house. We 
 went, and found there the Marquis de Zenette 
 and another young nobleman of prepossessing 
 manners, whom I had never seen. " Don 
 Mathias," said Segiar to my master, introduc- 
 ing to him the gentleman I did not know, 
 " allow me to present to you Don Pompeyo de 
 Castro, a relative of mine. He has been at the 
 court of Poland 1 almost since his infancy. He 
 came to Madrid last night, and returns to 
 Warsaw to-morrow ; he can only give me this 
 day, and as I wish to make the most of so short 
 a time, I thought of asking you and the Mar- 
 quis de Zenette to make it pleasant to him." 
 Thereupon my master and Don Alexo's relative 
 embraced one another and exchanged many 
 compliments. I was much pleased with Don 
 Pompeyo's conversation ; he seemed to have a 
 solid and judicious mind. 
 
 They dined at Segiar's, and after the meal 
 
 i In the first edition of Gil Bias Lesage made Don Pompeyo 
 live in Portugal, where his adventure took place. Our author 
 altered this later to Poland.
 
 284 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 these noblemen amused themselves at playing 
 cards until it was time to go to the theatre. 
 Then they all went together to the Prince's, 
 to see a new tragedy, called the Queen of 
 Carthage. The play over, they returned to 
 supper, and their conversation turned first 
 upon the drama which they had just heard, 
 and then upon the actors. " As for the play," 
 exclaimed Don Mathias, " I do not care much 
 for it; ^Eneas is more insipid tha'n in the 
 SEneid. But it must be confessed that the 
 piece was divinely played. What does Don 
 Pompeyo think of it? He does not seem to 
 agree with me." " Gentlemen," said that 
 young lord, smiling, " I saw that you were so 
 much charmed by the actors, and particularly 
 by the actresses, that I hardly dare avow 
 that iny opinion is quite different from 
 yours." "You are right," interrupted Don 
 Alexo, in a jocular manner; "your censures 
 would be ill received here. Respect our 
 actresses before the trumpeters of their reputa- 
 tion. We carouse with them every day; we 
 maintain their absolute perfection, of which we 
 will even give them certificates if it were neces- 
 sary." " No doubt of it," his relative answered, 
 "you would do the same for their lives and 
 manners, so partial you seem to be to them ! " 
 
 " Your Polish actresses," said the Marquis de 
 Zenette with a laugh, " are doubtless far 
 superior?" " They certainly are," replied Don
 
 GIL BLAS. 285 
 
 Pompeyo. " There are at least a few of them 
 who are faultless." " These," replied the 
 Marquis, " may count upon your certificate?" 
 " I have no intimate acquaintance with them," 
 answered Don Pompeyo. "I do not share 
 in their revels, and can judge of their merits 
 without prejudice. Frankly," he continued, 
 " do you think your theatrical company first- 
 rate?" "No," replied the Marquis, "I do 
 not think so, and I would only plead the cause 
 of a small number of them : I abandon all the 
 rest. Will you not agree that the actress who 
 played the part of Dido is admirable? Does 
 she not represent the queen with all the 
 dignity and grace which realise our idea of 
 the character? Do you not admire the art 
 with which she engages the spectator's interest 
 and makes him experience the emotions which 
 she expresses? She may be called consum- 
 mate in the refined art of declamation." "I 
 agree with you," said Don Pompeyo, " that 
 she can excite and touch her audience; no 
 actress could be more pathetic, and it was 
 a fine performance, but it is not faultless. 
 Two or three things in her acting shocked 
 me. If she wishes to express surprise she rolls 
 her eyes in an exaggerated fashion, which is 
 not becoming in a princess. And in raising 
 her voice, which is naturally mellifluous, she 
 mars its sweetness, and produces a disagreeable 
 croak. Besides, it seemed to me, in more
 
 286 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 than one passage, that she might be suspected 
 of not understanding very well what she was 
 saying. However, I would rather think that 
 she was inattentive than charge her with lack 
 of capacity." 
 
 "As far as I see," said Don Mathias to the 
 critic, "you would not be the man to write 
 verses in praise of our actresses." " Excuse 
 me," answered Don Pompeyo; "I can recog- 
 nise much talent through all their imperfec- 
 tions. I will even confess that I was enchanted 
 with the actress who played the chambermaid 
 in the interludes. 1 She has a fine natural 
 talent and treads the stage gracefully. When 
 she has anything pointed to deliver it is 
 heightened by ]an arch smile, full of charm, 
 which lends it additional zest. It might be 
 objected that occasionally she shows a little too 
 much vivacity, and transgresses the limits of 
 allowable freedom ; but we ought not to be 
 hypercritical. I only wish she would correct a 
 certain bad habit of hers. More than once, in 
 a serious passage, in the middle of a scene, she 
 suddenly interrupts the action of the play, and 
 gives way to a silly inclination to laugh. You 
 will tell me that the pit applauds her in these 
 very places ; that is lucky for her." 
 
 "And what do you think of the men?" 
 
 1 It is said that by the chambermaid an actress named Desmares 
 was meant. The other portraits of actors and actresses are also 
 supposed to represent certain comedians who were contemporaries 
 of Lesage.
 
 GIL BLAS. 287 
 
 interrupted the Marquis; "you ought to have 
 a volley ready for them, as you do not spare 
 the women." " Not so," said Don Pompeyo, 
 ''there are some promising young actors, and 
 I am especially pleased with that stout comedian 
 who played the part of Dido's prime minister. 
 He recites very naturally, and that is how they 
 declaim in Poland." "If you are satisfied with 
 him," said Segiar, " you ought to be charmed 
 with the player who acted ^Eneas. Did he 
 not strike you as a great comedian, an original 
 performer ? " " Very original , ' ' replied the critic . 
 " His tones are peculiar to himself, and some of 
 them are very shrill. Almost always unnatural, 
 he hurries over the words which express the 
 sentiment, and dwells on the others ; he even 
 emphasises the conjunctions. He amused me 
 
 vastlv, above all when he described to his 
 
 ./ * 
 
 confidant how distressed he was at the thought 
 of abandoning the princess ; never was grief 
 more ludicrously expressed." " Softly, cousin ! " 
 replied Don Alexo, " you will end by making 
 us believe that there is not much good taste 
 at the Polish court. Do you know that the 
 actor we are speaking of is considered an 
 extraordinary man? Did you not hear the 
 thunders of applause which he called forth? 
 That proves he is not so bad after all." " It 
 proves nothing," replied Don Pompeyo. 
 " Gentlemen," he continued, " pray, let us take 
 no account of the applause of the pit, for it is
 
 288 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 often given to actors very unseasonably. In- 
 deed it applauds true merit more rarely than 
 false, as Phredrus tells us in an ingenious fable, 
 which, with your leave, I will tell you. The 
 inhabitants of a certain town were all assembled 
 in a large open space, to see some actors. 
 Amongst the performers was one who was 
 applauded continually. This buffoon, towards 
 the end of the entertainment, desired to bring 
 down the curtain with a new performance. 
 He appeared on the stage alone, stooped down, 
 covered his head with his cloak, and began to 
 imitate the squeaking of a sucking pig. He did 
 it so well that the audience actually thought 
 he had one under his clothes. They therefore 
 called out to him to take off his cloak and his 
 gown, and shake them. He did so, but no pig 
 was to be seen underneath; and then the 
 whole assembly applauded him with greater 
 enthusiasm than before. A peasant amongst 
 the spectators was disgusted by these manifes- 
 tations of admiration. ' Gentlemen,' he cried, 
 * you are wrong to be so delighted with that 
 buffoon; he is not such a good actor as you 
 think; I can imitate a squeaking pig better 
 than he can ; and if you doubt it, only attend 
 here to-morrow at the same hour.' The people, 
 prejudiced as they were in favour of the actor, 
 assembled on the next day in still greater 
 numbers, rather for the purpose of hissing the 
 countryman than of seeing what he could do.
 
 GIL BLAS. 289 
 
 The two rivals appeared on the stage. The 
 buffoon began, and was even more applauded 
 than on the previous day. Then the peasant, 
 stooping down in his turn, and muffling his 
 head in his cloak, pulled the ear of a real pig, 
 which he held under his arm, and made it 
 squeak loudly. But the audience did not fail 
 to give the preference to the buffoon, and 
 hooted the peasant, who then suddenly showed 
 the sucking pig to the spectators, and said, 
 ' Gentlemen, you are not hissing me, but the 
 pig itself. So much for your judgment." 
 
 " Cousin," said Don Alexo, " your fable is 
 rather satirical. Nevertheless, in spite of your 
 sucking pig, we do not yield. But let us change 
 the subject," he added, "I am tired of it. Must 
 you set off to-morrow, then, though I am so 
 very anxious to keep you longer?" "I wish 
 I could protract rny stay," replied his relative, 
 " but I cannot, as I have already told you. I 
 came to the Spanish court on State business. 
 Yesterday, on my arrival, I had an audience of 
 the Prime Minister; I am to see him again, 
 to-morrow morning, and immediately after- 
 wards I must return to Warsaw." " You have 
 become quite a Pole," said Segiar, " and in 
 all likelihood you will never settle again in 
 Madrid." "I think not," replied Don Pompeyo; 
 " I have the good fortune to be liked by the 
 king of Poland, and I enjoy myself greatly at 
 his court. But, however kind he may be to
 
 290 THE ADVENTURES OP 
 
 me, would you believe that I was on the point 
 of leaving his dominions for ever ?" " Indeed ! 
 how did that happen?" asked the Marquis. 
 " Pray relate to us your adventure." " Wil- 
 lingly," replied Don Pompeyo, " and it will 
 be my history at the same time." 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE HISTORY OP DON POMPEYO DE CASTRO. 
 
 " DON ALEXO," he continued, " knows that I 
 wanted to be a soldier from my childhood ; and 
 as our native country was at peace, I went to 
 Poland, against which the Turks had just 
 declared war. I was presented at court, and 
 the king gave me a commission in his army. 
 I w r as one of the poorest younger sons in Spain ; 
 so that it was necessary for me to distinguish 
 myself by some deeds which might attract the 
 notice of the commander-in-chief. I did my 
 duty so well that, after a rather protracted 
 war, the king, on the conclusion of peace, and 
 thanks to the high commendations which the 
 general officers gave me, rewarded me with 
 a considerable pension. Thankful for the 
 monarch's generosity, I lost no opportunity of 
 testifying to him my gratitude by my assiduity. 
 I was in attendance upon him whenever I was
 
 GIL BLAS. 291 
 
 allowed to pay him my respects. By this be- 
 haviour I gradually gained the love of that 
 prince, and I received new favours at his 
 hands. 
 
 " One day, I so distinguished myself in tilt- 
 ing at the ring, and in a bull-fight * preceding 
 it, that the whole court extolled my strength 
 and my skill. On returning home, over- 
 whelmed with applause, I received a note, 
 informing me that a lady, whose conquest 
 ought to flatter me more than all the honour I 
 had gained during the day, wished to have the 
 pleasure of my company, and requested me to 
 betake myself at nightfall to a certain place 
 which was mentioned. This letter gave me 
 more pleasure than all the praise I had received, 
 and I concluded the person who had written 
 to me to be a lady of the highest rank. You 
 may easily imagine that I flew to the place 
 appointed. An old woman, who was waiting 
 to be my guide, led me through a small 
 garden-gate into a large house, and shut me 
 into a handsome little room, saying, " Remain 
 here, and I will inform my mistress of your 
 arrival." I observed many precious things 
 in this cabinet, which was lighted by a great 
 number of wax candles ; and this magnificence 
 confirmed the opinion I had already conceived 
 of the lady's high birth. If all that I saw 
 
 1 Tilting at the ring and ball-fights were favourite amusements 
 in Spain and in Portugal ; but not in Poland.
 
 292 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 seemed to strengthen the conjecture that it 
 could only be a lady of the highest rank, her 
 appearance thoroughly convinced rne of it, so 
 noble and majestic was her bearing. And yet, 
 after all, I was wrong. 
 
 " l Noble sir,' she said, ' after the advances 
 I have made, it would be idle to try to 
 conceal the fact that I have conceived a passion 
 for you. Your brilliant actions of to-day 
 before the whole court did not inspire it ; they 
 only hastened its disclosure. I have seen you 
 more than once; I have inquired into your 
 character, and the favourable things which I 
 have heard determined me to indulge my in- 
 clination. But do not suppose,' she continued, 
 ' that you have made a conquest of some 
 duchess. I am only the* widow of a mere 
 officer of the royal guard; but that which makes 
 your triumph glorious is that I prefer you to 
 one of the first noblemen of the kingdom. 
 Prince Eadzivil l loves me, and spares no effort 
 to please me. But he does not succeed, and it 
 it is only through vanity that I endure his 
 importunities.' 
 
 " Though I perceived from this speech that I 
 had to do with a coquette, I none the less 
 thanked my stars for this adventure. Donna 
 Hortensia, for that was the lady's name, was 
 still in the prime of youth, and her beauty 
 
 1 In the first edition, where the scene of Don Pompeyo's adven- 
 ture is laid in Portugal, this prince is called " Duke of Ahneyda."
 
 GIL BLAS. 293 
 
 dazzled me. Moreover, the possession of a 
 heart was offered me which was denied to the 
 addresses of a prince. What a triumph for a 
 Spanish gentleman ! I fell at Hortensia's feet 
 to thank her for her kindness. I said all that 
 a gallant man could say, and she had cause to 
 be satisfied with my outburst of gratitude. So 
 we parted on the best possible terms, after 
 agreeing to meet every night when the prince 
 was prevented from coming, of which she 
 promised to keep me punctually informed. 
 She did not fail in this, and I became the 
 Adonis of this new Venus. 
 
 " But the pleasures of life do not last for 
 ever. Careful as the lady was to hide the 
 knowledge of our connection from my rival, he 
 nevertheless learned all that it behoved us to 
 keep from him. A discontented chambermaid 
 informed him of it. This nobleman, naturally 
 generous, but haughty, jealous and passionate, 
 was indignant at my presumption. Kage and 
 jealousy took possession of his soul;, and follow- 
 ing solely the dictates of his fury he resolved 
 to be avenged upon me in an infamous manner. 
 One night, when I was with Hortensia, he 
 waylaid me at the garden gate, accompanied 
 by all his servants, armed with cudgels. As I 
 was going out he ordered these wretches to 
 seize me, and told them to cudgel me to 
 death. ' Lay on,' he said ; ' let the rash 
 villain perish under your hands; thus shall
 
 294 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 his insolence be punished.' No sooner had he 
 said this, than his domestics assailed me in a 
 body, and gave me such a beating that they 
 stretched me senseless on the ground ; after 
 which they departed with their master, for 
 whom this butchery had been a very pleasant 
 spectacle. I remained during the remainder of 
 the night in the state in which they had left me. 
 At daybreak some people who happened to 
 pass, seeing that I still breathed, were charitable 
 enough to take me to a surgeon's. Fortunately 
 my wounds were not mortal, and I fell into the 
 hands of a clever man who thoroughly cured me 
 in a couple of months. At the end of that time 
 I reappeared at court, and resumed my former 
 way of living, except that I did not return to 
 Hortensia, who, on her side, made no advances 
 to see me again, since the prince had made 
 this the condition of her being pardoned. 
 My adventure was known to all, and as I had 
 the reputation of not being a coward, everybody 
 was astonished to see me as calm as if I had 
 not been outraged, for I did not impart my 
 thoughts to any one, and appeared to cherish 
 no resentment. No one knew what to think 
 of my feigned insensibility. Some thought 
 that, in spite of my courage, the rank of my 
 antagonist awed me, and compelled me to put 
 up with the insult ; others, with more reason, 
 suspected my silence, and regarded my apparent 
 indifference as a deceptive calm. The king
 
 GIL BLAS. 295 
 
 held with these latter that I was not the man to 
 let such an outrage go unpunished, and that I 
 would not fail to avenge myself as soon as a 
 favourable opportunity presented itself. In 
 order to discover my real intention, he sum- 
 moned me one day into his closet, and said 
 to me, l Don Pompeyo, I am aware of the 
 accident which has befallen you, and I own I 
 am surprised at your forbearance ; you are un- 
 doubtedly dissimulating.' ' Sire,' I replied, ' I 
 am ignorant as to who the offender was; I 
 have been attacked in the night by unknown 
 men : it is a misfortune for which I must 
 console myself as well as I can.' ' No, no,' 
 replied the king, ' I am not deceived by such 
 evasive answers : I know everything. Prince 
 Radzivil has mortally offended you ; you are a 
 nobleman and a Castilian ; I know to what 
 these two qualities compel you: you have 
 determined to be avenged. Confide in me 
 the design you have framed : I insist upon it. 
 Never fear that you will repent of entrusting 
 me with your secret.' 
 
 " ' Since your majesty commands it,' I 
 replied, ' I shall disclose my feelings without 
 reserve. Yes, sire, I intend to be avenged for 
 the outrage done to me. Every man who 
 bears a name like mine is accountable for it to 
 his race. You know of the unworthy treat- 
 ment I have received; I, therefore, intend to 
 kill the prince, and to avenge myself in a
 
 296 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 manner suitable to the offence, I shall plunge 
 a dagger in his breast, or shoot him through 
 the head ; and escape, if I can, to Spain. That 
 is my design.' 
 
 " ' It is violent,' said the king, ' and yet I 
 cannot condemn it. After the cruel outrage 
 which Kadzivil has inflicted on you, he is 
 worthy of the punishment you reserve for him. 
 But do not carry out your plan hastily ; let 
 me devise a method for settling the matter 
 between you.' ' Ah, sire,' I exclaimed bitterly, 
 1 why did you compel me to divulge my secret ? 
 What method can . . .' 'If mine is not to 
 your satisfaction,' he interrupted, ' you can 
 execute what you have resolved upon. I have 
 no intention of abusing the confidence you 
 have placed in me; I will not compromise 
 your honour ; have no anxiety on that point.' 
 
 " I was greatly at a loss to know how the 
 king proposed to bring the matter to an amic- 
 able issue. He set to work in this way. He 
 had a private interview with my rival. ' Prince,' 
 he said to him, ' you have insulted Don Pom- 
 peyo de Castro. You are not ignorant that 
 he is a man of noble birth, a knight whom I 
 love, and who has served me well. You owe 
 him satisfaction.' ' I have no mind to refuse 
 him it,' answered the prince. ' If he complains 
 of my wrath, I am ready to give an account of 
 it by arms.' ' Another reparation is called for,' 
 replied the king ; ' a Spanish gentleman com-
 
 GIL BLAS. 297 
 
 prehends the laws of honour too well to fight 
 on equal terms with a cowardly assassin. I 
 can use no milder name ; and you can only 
 atone for the indignity of your conduct by 
 yourself presenting a cane to your enemy, and 
 by offering to submit to his blows.' ' Good 
 Heaven ! ' exclaimed ,my rival. ' What, sire, 
 would you have a man of my rank degrade, 
 humiliate himself before a mere gentleman, 
 and even receive blows from him ? ' ' No,' 
 rejoined the monarch, ' I will make Don 
 Pompeyo promise not to touch you. Only ask 
 his pardon for your violence when you offer 
 him the cane ; that is all I require from you. ' 
 ' And it is too much to expect from me, sire,' 
 Kadzivil hastily broke in ; 'I would rather 
 live exposed to the secret shafts which his 
 revenge may prepare.' ' Your life is dear to 
 me,' said the king, ' and I do not want this 
 affair to have evil consequences. In order to 
 end it with the least annoyance to you, I shall 
 be the sole witness of the satisfaction which I 
 insist on your rendering to the Spaniard.' 
 The king needed all the influence he had over 
 the prince to induce him to take so mortifying 
 a step. Nevertheless the monarch succeeded ; 
 and then he sent for me. He repeated the 
 conversation which he had had with my enemy, 
 and asked if I would be satisfied with the re- 
 paration which they had agreed upon. I said 
 that I would ; and I gave my word of honour
 
 298 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 that, far from striking the offender, I would not 
 even accept the cane he should offer me. This 
 being arranged, the prince and myself went to 
 the king's palace upon a certain day, at an 
 appointed hour; and when his majesty was 
 alone with us in his cabinet, he said to 
 Kadzivil, * Now, then, acknowledge your fault 
 and deserve to be forgiven.' Then my enemy 
 apologised to me, and offered me the cane 
 which he had in his hand. * Don Pompeyo,' 
 the monarch remarked to me at the same time, 
 ' take this cane, and let not my presence 
 prevent you from satisfying your outraged 
 honour. I release you from the pledge you 
 gave me not to strike your enemy.' i No, sire,' 
 I replied, 'it is enough that he has submitted to 
 receive a blow : an offended Spaniard requires 
 no more.' ' Well,' said the king, since you 
 are satisfied with this apology, both of you can 
 now observe what is customary in such a case. 
 Measure swords, and end your quarrel worthily.' 
 ' That is what I ardently desire,' said the 
 prince, abruptly ; ; for that alone can make 
 amends for the disgraceful step I have just 
 taken.' 
 
 " With these words he left the room, full of 
 rage and confusion; and two hours later he 
 sent to say that he awaited me in a secluded 
 spot. I went there, and found this nobleman 
 quite in a humour for fighting. He was not quite 
 forty-five, and lacked neither courage nor skill :
 
 GIL BLAS. 299 
 
 so that it was an equal match between us. 
 1 Come, Don Pompeyo,' he said, ' let us bring 
 our differences to an end. We ought both to 
 be exasperated; you, for the treatment you have 
 received at my hands, and I, for having asked 
 your pardon.' Whilst saying these words he 
 drew his sword so hastily that I had no time to 
 answer him. He pressed me hard at first ; but 
 I was fortunate enough to parry all his thrusts. 
 I pressed him in my turn ; I felt that I had to 
 do with a man who was as skilled in defence 
 as in attack; and there is no knowing what 
 would have happened if he had not made a 
 false step in retreating, and so fallen backwards. 
 I stood still at once, and told the prince to rise. 
 ' Why spare me ? ' he replied ; ' your pity 
 insults me.' ' I will not take advantage of your 
 misfortune,' said I; 'I should mar my fame. 
 Once more, rise, and let us continue the 
 contest.' 
 
 " ' Don Pompeyo,' he said as he rose, * after 
 this act of generosity, honour does not permit 
 me to use my sword against you. What would 
 be said of me if I were to pierce you through 
 the heart? I should be branded as a coward 
 for having taken the life of a man who might 
 have taken mine. I cannot, therefore, anew 
 lift my arm against you ; warm transports of 
 gratitude succeed to the furious emotions 
 which were raging within me. Don Pompeyo,' 
 he continued, ' let us mutually lay aside our
 
 300 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 hatred; let us even go further, let us be 
 friends.' * Ah, my lord,' I cried, ' I accept 
 joyfully so flattering a proposal ; I proffer you 
 my sincere friendship ; and, to give you a first 
 proof of it, I promise never again to enter 
 Donna Hortensia's house, even if she herself 
 should invite me.' ' Nay,' he replied, ' I yield 
 the lady to you ; justice requires me to give 
 her up to you since her affections are yours 
 already.' * No, no,' I interrupted, ' you love 
 her. The favours she might bestow upon me 
 would give you pain ; I sacrifice them to your 
 peace of mind.' 'Ah! too generous Castilian,' 
 replied Radzivil, clasping me in his arms, 
 1 your sentiments charm me. What remorse 
 they cause me ! With what grief, with what 
 shame do I recall the outrage you have 
 received ! The satisfaction which I gave you 
 in the king's apartment seems to me at this 
 moment too slight. I desire to repair the 
 wrong more fully, and in order to entirely 
 obliterate the dishonour, I offer you in marriage 
 one of my nieces, whose hand is at my disposal. 
 She is a rich heiress, not fifteen years old, and 
 with beauty beyond the attractions of mere 
 youth.' 
 
 " Thereupon I paid the prince all the com- 
 pliments which the honour of being allied to 
 him could suggest ; and a few days afterwards 
 married his niece. The whole court congratu- 
 lated this lord on having crowned the good
 
 GIL BLAS. 301 
 
 fortune of a gentleman whom he had before 
 covered with ignominy, and my friends rejoiced 
 with me at the happy issue of an adventure 
 which might have had a more lamentable 
 result. From that time, gentlemen, I have 
 spent life pleasantly in Warsaw ; I am beloved 
 by my wife, and I still love her; Prince 
 Kadzivil gives me every day fresh evidences of 
 friendship, and I may venture to boast that I 
 am a favourite of the King of Poland. The 
 importance of the mission which at liis com- 
 mand I am discharging in Madrid proves to 
 me that he still esteems me." 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 AN ACCIDENT WHICH COMPELLED GIL BLAS TO 
 SEEK ANOTHER SITUATION. 
 
 SUCH was the story which Don Pompeyo 
 related, and which the servant of Don Alexo 
 and myself overheard, though our masters had 
 taken the precaution of sending us away before 
 he began. Instead of withdrawing we stopped 
 behind the door, which we had left ajar, and 
 thus we did not lose a word. After this, these 
 noblemen went on drinking, but they did not 
 prolong their carousal till morning, because 
 Don Pompeyo, who was to have an audience 
 of the minister in the morning, was glad to
 
 302 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 rest a little beforehand. The Marquis de 
 Zenette and my master took a cordial leave of 
 the stranger, bade him adieu, and left him with 
 his relative. 
 
 For once we went to bed before daybreak, 
 and Don Mathias, when he woke, invested me 
 with a new office. " Gil Bias," he said, " get 
 paper and ink, and write two or three letters 
 which I shall dictate to you; I appoint you 
 my secretary." " Well," said I to myself, 
 "here is another addition to my functions. 
 As a servant I follow my master everywhere ; 
 as a valet I help him to dress ; and I am to 
 write for him as his secretary ; Heaven be 
 praised! I am going to enact three different 
 characters, like the triple Hecate." " You do 
 not know," he continued, " what my intention 
 is ? I will tell you ; but be discreet about it ; 
 your life depends on it. As I sometimes meet 
 men who boast of their love intrigues to me, 
 I want, in order to surpass them all, to fill my 
 pockets with fictitious letters from ladies, which 
 I can read to them. That will divert me for 
 the moment ; and, happier than those of my 
 acquaintances who make conquests only for 
 the pleasure of boasting of them, I can make 
 them public without having had the trouble of 
 making them. But," he added, " vary your 
 writing, so that the letters may not seem all to 
 be written in the same hand." 
 
 Upon this 1 took paper, pen, and ink, and
 
 GIL BLAS. 303 
 
 disposed myself to obey Don Mathias, who 
 forthwith dictated a love-letter in these terms : 
 " You were not at the place of assignation 
 to-night. Ah ! Don Mathias, what can yon 
 say to excuse yourself? My error was a cruel 
 one. You punish me deservedly for the 
 vanity of believing that all the amusements 
 and all the business in the world ought to give 
 way to the pleasure of seeing Donna Clara de 
 Mendoza ! " After this note he made me write 
 another, as if from a lady who preferred him 
 to a prince ; and again a third, wherein a lady 
 told him that, if she were convinced of his dis- 
 cretion, she would make a voyage to Cythera 
 with him. Not content with dictating these 
 pretty love-letters to me, he made me sign 
 the names of several ladies of quality. I could 
 not help telling him that I thought this a very 
 delicate matter, but he told me not to give 
 my advice till he should ask for it, so I was 
 obliged to hold my tongue and carry out his 
 orders. This done, he got up, and I helped 
 him to dress; then he put the letters in his 
 pockets, and went out. I followed him, and 
 we dined with Don Juan de Moncada, who was 
 that day treating five or six gentlemen of his 
 acquaintance. 
 
 The entertainment was sumptuous ; and 
 mirth, the best relish of all banquets, prevailed 
 throughout the meal. All the guests contri- 
 buted to enliven the conversation, some by jests,
 
 304 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 others by relating stories of which they said 
 they were the heroes. My master did not lose 
 such a fine opportunity of bringing in the 
 letters which he had made me write. He read 
 them aloud, and that so impressively that 
 perhaps every one save his secretary was de- 
 ceived. Amongst the company before whom 
 he read them with so much audacity was a 
 certain Don Lope de Velasco, a very grave 
 man, who, instead of laughing like the others 
 at the supposed good fortune of the reader, 
 calmly asked him if the conquest of Donna 
 Clara had cost him much trouble. " Less than 
 nothing," Don Mathias replied; " she made all 
 the advances. She saw me walking about ; I 
 pleased her; somebody followed me by her 
 orders to find out who I was. She wrote to me, 
 and appointed to meet me at her house at an 
 hour of the night when everything was sure to 
 be quiet. I went there, was introduced into 
 her room. . . but I am too discreet to tell you 
 the rest." 
 
 At this laconic narrative Don Lope showed 
 a great change of countenance. It was not 
 difficult to detect the interest he took in the 
 lady in question. " All those love-letters," he 
 said, darting a furious look at my master, " are 
 infamous forgeries, and especially the one which 
 you boast of having received from Donna Clara 
 de Mendoza. There is not, in all Spain, a 
 more modest maiden. For these two years a
 
 GIL BLAS. 305 
 
 gentleman, neither your inferior in birth nor in 
 personal merit, has adopted every means in his 
 power to enlist her affections. He has barely 
 received from her the slightest encouragement ; 
 but he may flatter himself that, if she were 
 capable of according other favours, it would 
 have been to him alone." " Well, who says 
 the contrary? " interrupted Don Mathias, jest- 
 ingly. " I agree with you that she is a very 
 honourable young lady. On my part, I am a 
 very honourable young fellow. Therefore, you 
 must be convinced that nothing but what is 
 very honourable has passed between us." 
 " 0, this is too much," said Don Lope; "a 
 truce to jests. You are an impostor. Donna 
 Clara has never made an assignation to meet 
 you by night. I will not suffer you to blacken 
 her reputation ; 1 am too much of a gentleman 
 to tell you any more." Having said these 
 words he looked sternly at all the company, 
 and withdrew, with a manner which made me 
 think that this business might have very serious 
 consequences. My master, who was fairly brave 
 for a nobleman of his character, made light of 
 Don Lope's threats. " What a blockhead ! " 
 he cried, bursting out into a loud fit of laughter. 
 " Our knights errant used to maintain the 
 beauty of their mistresses; but he wishes to 
 vindicate the chastity of his a thing which 
 seems to me still more ridiculous." 
 
 The retirement of Velasco, which Moncada
 
 '506 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 had vainly attempted to prevent, was no in- 
 terruption to the merriment. The gentlemen, 
 without paying much heed to it, continued to 
 make merry, and only separated at daybreak. 
 My master and I went to bed about five in the 
 morning. I was very sleepy, and I thought I 
 should have enjoyed some sound slumbers; but 
 I reckoned without my host, or rather without 
 our doorkeeper, who came and woke me an 
 hour after, to tell me that there was a young 
 man at. the door asking for me. " Ah, you 
 confounded doorkeeper," I said, yawning, " do 
 you forget that I have only just got into bed? 
 Tell the young man I am asleep, and let him 
 come back presently." "He insists on speaking 
 with you at once," he replied, " he asserts that 
 his business is pressing." Thereupon I got up, 
 only put on my breeches and doublet, and went 
 down stairs swearing, to find the young man 
 who was waiting for me. " Friend," said I, 
 " pray tell me what pressing business procures 
 me the honour of seeing you so early?" He 
 replied, " I have a letter to deliver personally 
 into Don Mathias's own hands, to be read by 
 him without loss of time. It is of the utmost 
 consequence to him; pray, take me to his 
 room." As I thought the matter of importance, 
 I took the liberty of going to wake my master. 
 " Excuse me," said I, " if I disturb your rest ; 
 but the importance. ..." " What do you 
 want with me ? " he sharply asked. " My
 
 GIL BLAS. 307 
 
 lord," then said the man who accompanied me, 
 " it is a letter which I have to give you on the 
 part of Don Lope de Velasco." Don Mathias 
 took the note, opened it, and after reading it, 
 said to Don Lope's valet, " My lad, I never get 
 up before midday, let the party be ever so 
 agreeable ; judge whether I shall get up at six 
 in the morning to fight ! You may tell your 
 master that, if he is still in the place which he 
 mentions at half-past twelve, I shall come and 
 meet him there; carry him that reply." With 
 those words he sank back in his bed, and was 
 soon asleep again. 
 
 He rose between eleven and twelve, and 
 dressed with the utmost composure ; then he 
 went out, telling me that he would dispense 
 with my services ; but I was too anxious to 
 see what became of him to obey him. I 
 sneaked after him to the meadow of Saint 
 Jerome, where I saw Don Lope de Yelasco 
 resolutely waiting for him. I concealed myself 
 in order to observe them ; and perceived from a 
 distance their meeting and beginning to fight 
 a moment later. The engagement lasted long. 
 They alternately pressed each other with much 
 skill and vigour. However, victory declared 
 itself for Don Lope ; he ran my master through, 
 stretched him on the ground, and made his 
 escape, pleased to be so well avenged. I ran 
 to the unfortunate Don Mathias, and found 
 him unconscious and almost lifeless. The sight
 
 308 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 moved me, and I could not help weeping at 
 a death to which, unconsciously, I had myself 
 contributed. Nevertheless, in spite of my grief, 
 I did not forget to consider my own interests. 
 I quickly returned home, without saying a 
 word. I made a parcel of my clothes, amongst 
 which I accidentally put a few of my master's ; 
 and when I had taken this to the barber's, 
 where my fine suit still remained, I spread 
 abroad in the town the sad occurrence which I 
 had witnessed. I related it to all who would 
 listen to me, and, above all, did not fail to 
 acquaint Rodriguez of it. He seemed to be 
 less afflicted by it than concerned as to the 
 measures necessary to be taken. He assembled 
 the servants, told them to follow him, and we 
 all went to St Jerome's meadow. We took 
 up Don Mathias, who was still breathing, but 
 who died three hours after he was carried 
 home. Thus perished Don Mathias de Silva, 
 for having taken it into his head to read 
 suppositions love-letters at an unseasonable 
 moment.
 
 GIL BLAS. 309 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 WHOM GIL BLAS SERVED AFTER THE DEATH OF 
 DON MATHIAS DE SILVA. 
 
 A FEW days after the funeral of Don Mathias, 
 all his servants were paid off and dismissed. 
 I went to lodge at the little barber's, with 
 whom I began to become very intimate; I 
 thought it would be more agreeable to stop 
 there than at Melendez's. As I did not want 
 money T was in no hurry about seeking another 
 place; besides, I had become hard to please. 
 I resolved to serve none but people of rank, 
 and I also determined to make full enquiries 
 regarding any situations offered. I did not 
 consider the best too good for me, so far did 
 the valet of a young nobleman seem superior 
 to the common herd of servants. 
 
 Until my good fortune should put in my 
 way such a place as I thought I deserved, it 
 seemed to me that I could not do better than 
 devote my leisure to my lovely Laura, whom 
 I had riot seen since we had so amusingly 
 undeceived one another. I dared not dress 
 like Don Cesar de Ribera ; I could not put on 
 this suit except for the purpose of disguise, 
 unless I wished to be taken for a madman. 
 But my own suit being still very passable, and 
 having good shoes and a good hat, I dressed
 
 310 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 myself with the barber's assistance, in a style 
 which hit the mean between Don Cesar and 
 Gil Bias. Thereupon I betook myself to 
 Arsenia's house. I found Laura alone in the 
 same room where I had previously seen her. 
 " Ah ! it is you," she exclaimed, as soon as 
 she saw me, " I thought you were lost. It is 
 about seven or eight days ago since I gave you 
 leave to come and see me ; but it seems that 
 you don't abuse the liberty which the fair sex 
 gives you." 
 
 I excused myself on the ground of my 
 master's death, and on my occupations in 
 consequence thereof, and I very politely added 
 that, even in my troubles, my fair Laura had 
 been ever present in my thoughts. "If that 
 is so," she said, "I shall reproach you no longer; 
 and I will confess also that I have been think- 
 ing of you. As soon as I heard of Don 
 Mathias' misfortune, I formed a plan which 
 perhaps will not displease you. A long while 
 ago I heard my mistress say that she wanted 
 a sort of man of business in the house, a young 
 man who was a good manager, and could 
 carefully keep accounts of the money spent in 
 housekeeping; I have had my eye on your 
 lordship, and it strikes me such an office would 
 exactly suit you." " I feel," I replied, " that 
 I should acquit myself in a wonderful man- 
 ner; I have read Aristotle's Economics', 1 and 
 
 1 It is strange to find Aristotle's Economics quoted by Gil Bias 
 when speaking to a ladies' maid.
 
 GIL BLAS. 311 
 
 as for keeping accounts, that is my strong- 
 point. . . But, my dear girl," I added, " there 
 is a difficulty in the way which will prevent 
 my entering Arsenia's service." " What is that 
 difficulty?" asked Laura. "I have sworn," 
 said I, " never again to serve plebeians ; I have 
 even sworn it by the Styx ! If Jupiter dare 
 not violate such an oath, judge whether a 
 servant ought to observe it ! " " Whom do 
 you call plebeians? " said the maid, haughtily : 
 " for what do you take actresses ? Do you 
 take them for barristers or attorneys' wives? 
 I would have you know, my friend, that 
 actresses rank with the nobility, and are more 
 than noble by the alliances which they form 
 with men of the highest birth." 
 
 "If this be the case, my princess," said I, 
 " I can accept the place which you have 
 destined for me ; I shall not be lowering 
 myself." " To be sure not," she replied; "to 
 come from a beau into the service of a stage- 
 heroine is to continue in the same society. 
 We are on a level with people of quality. We 
 have the same sort of carriages, we live as well, 
 and in fact we ought to be classed together 
 in private life. Indeed," she added, "if you 
 compare a marquis and an actor for a whole 
 day, it is almost one and the same thing. 
 If a marquis, for three parts of the day, is, by 
 virtue of his birth, superior to the actor, a 
 comedian during the other quarter overtops
 
 312 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 the marquis, by appearing as an emperor or a 
 king. It seems to me that this produces a 
 balance of nobility arid greatness which brings 
 us on a level with the courtiers." " Ay, of a 
 truth," I replied, "you are on a level with each 
 other, there is no gainsaying that. Hang it ! 
 Actors are not ragamuffins, as I used to think, 
 and you inspire me with a strong desire to 
 serve such gentlemanly people." " Well," she 
 replied, " come back in a couple of days. By 
 that time I shall have persuaded my mistress 
 into engaging you ; I will speak to her in your 
 favour, and as I have some influence with her, 
 I am convinced that I can bring you under 
 this roof." 
 
 I thanked Laura for her good intentions ; 
 I assured her I was filled with gratitude, 
 and I made this declaration with such tran- 
 sports as left her no room to doubt it. We had 
 a rather long conversation, which would have 
 lasted still longer if a little page had not come 
 to tell my princess that her mistress was ask- 
 ing for her. We parted ; I left the actress's 
 house, in the pleasant hope of soon living there 
 at my ease. I did not fail to return in a couple 
 of days. " I was expecting you," Laura said, 
 " to tell you that you are now an inmate of 
 this house. Come, follow me ; I shall intro- 
 duce you to my mistress." Thereupon she led 
 me through a suite of five or six rooms, each 
 more richly furnished than the rest.
 
 GIL BLAS. 313 
 
 What luxury ! What splendour ! I thought 
 I was in a vice-regal house, or rather I fancied 
 I saw all the wealth of the world accumulated 
 in one and the same place. In fact the wealth of 
 several nations was gathered there. This suite 
 might be described as the temple of a goddess, 
 to whom every traveller made an offering of 
 some rare product of his native country. The 
 divinity was seated on a large satin cushion ; 1 
 she seemed charming in my eyes, and sleek with 
 the savour of the sacrifices. She was in a 
 coquettish dishabille, and her lovely hands were 
 busy preparing a new head-dress for a part in 
 which she was to appear that night. " Madam," 
 said her maid, " here is the steward I spoke of; 
 I can assure you that you could never get a 
 better." Arsenia looked at me very closely, 
 and fortunately I did not displease her. " Why, 
 Laura," she exclaimed, " this is a very nice- 
 looking young man. I can see he will suit me 
 very well." Then, addressing me, she said, 
 "My lad, I like your appearance, and I have but 
 
 1 Van Sommelsdyck says, in the Voyage d'Espagne (ch. ix.) : 
 "The (Spanish) ladies are always seated on the carpet or on cushions, 
 in the Turkish fashion ; " and the Countess d'Aulnoy, in her Rela- 
 tion, mentions that on visiting the youthful princess of Monteleon, 
 she saw more than sixty ladies of high rank, all seated on the 
 carpet with their legs crossed under them. This was most pro- 
 bable, because a Spanish lady never allowed her feet to be seen, for, 
 says the Countess in her eighth letter : J'ai entendu dire qu'aprks 
 qitune dame a eu toutes les complaisances possibles pour un cavalier, 
 c'est en lul montrant son pied qu'clle lui confirme sa tendresse, et c'est 
 ce qu'on appelle id la demikre faveur.
 
 314 THE ADVENTURES OP 
 
 one thing to say to you you will be satisfied 
 with me if I am so with you." I answered 
 that I would do my utmost to serve her well. 
 As I saw that we were agreed, I immediately 
 went to fetch my clothes, and returned to 
 instal myself in the house. 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 WHICH IS NO LONGER THAN THE LAST. 
 
 IT was nearly time for the play, and my mistress 
 bade me follow her to the theatre with Laura. 
 We went to her dressing-room, where she took 
 off her ordinary dress and put on a more magni- 
 ficent one for the evening's performance. When 
 the performance began, Laura took me to a place 
 where I could comfortably see and hear the 
 actors, and then she sat down beside me. On 
 the whole they did not please me, doubtless 
 because Don Pompeyo had prejudiced me 
 against them. Still, several of them were 
 loudly applauded, and a few of these put me in 
 mind of the fable of the pig. 
 
 Laura told me the names of the actors and 
 actresses as they came on the stage. She was 
 not content with naming them; the satirical 
 lady drew nice portraits of them. " This one," 
 she said, " is a booby ; that fellow is imperti-
 
 GIL BLAS. 815 
 
 nent ; that little minx, whose manner is more 
 free than graceful, goes by the name of Rosarda; 
 she is a bad bargain for the company ; she 
 ought to be put into the troop they are rais- 
 ing by order of the Viceroy of New Spain, to 
 be sent forthwith to America. 1 Take a good 
 look at that bright star now coming forward 
 that fair setting sun *is Casilda. If, since 
 she began to have lovers, she had required one 
 stone from each, to build a pyramid, as the 
 Egyptian princess did of old, she could have 
 raised one to the third heaven ! " In fact, Laura 
 tore them all to pieces by her scandal, and 
 her mischievous tongue did not even spare her 
 own mistress. 
 
 However, I must confess my weakness ; I 
 was charmed with the girl, though her character 
 was not morally good. She retailed her scandal 
 so agreeably that she made me even like her 
 malice. She got up between the acts to see if 
 her mistress needed her ; but instead of return- 
 ing at once to her place, she lingered behind 
 the scenes, listening to the soft things which 
 were said to her by her flatterers. Once I fol- 
 lowed in order to watch her, and I saw that she 
 had many acquaintances. I counted no less 
 than three actors who stopped to talk to her 
 one after another, and they seemed to converse 
 with her very familiarly. This did not please 
 me, and for the first time in my life I felt 
 
 1 Spanish criminals were at that time sent off to America.
 
 316 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 what it was to be jealous. I returned to my 
 seat so thoughtful and sad that Laura noticed 
 it as soon as she had rejoined me. " What is 
 the matter, Gil Bias?" she asked with astonish- 
 ment. " What gloomy melancholy has taken 
 possession of you since I left you ? You seem 
 sad and vexed." " My princess," I replied, " I 
 have good cause to be so ; you have a little too 
 much vivacity;- 1 have observed you with the 
 actors. . . ." "Indeed! what an amusing 
 cause for sadness ! " she broke in with a laugh. 
 "What! does that trouble you? You are 
 not at the end of your tether ; that is very 
 certain; you will see plenty other things among 
 us ; you must get used to our free and easy 
 ways. No jealousy, my lad ! Jealous men are 
 thought ridiculous among actors; and, so we 
 have none. Fathers, husbands, brothers, 
 uncles, and cousins are the most complaisant 
 people in the world, and indeed they are often 
 the very ones who establish their families." 
 
 After she had exhorted me to take offence at 
 nothing, and to look on everything calmly, she 
 declared that I was the happy mortal who had 
 found the way to her heart. Then she assured 
 me that she would always love me, and only 
 me. On this assurance, which I might have 
 doubted without seeming too distrustful, I 
 promised her not to be alarmed any more ; and 
 I kept my word. That very evening I saw her 
 talking in private, and giggling with several
 
 GIL BLAS. 317 
 
 men. When the play was over, we returned 
 home with our mistress, whither Florimonda 
 came soon after to supper with three old noble- 
 men, and an actor. Besides Laura and myself, 
 the other servants in this house were a female 
 cook, a coachman, and a little page. We all 
 five made preparations for the meal. The 
 cook, who was as clever an adept as Mistress 
 Jacinta, prepared the dishes assisted by the 
 coachman. The waiting-maid and the little 
 page laid the cloth, and I set out the side- 
 board with the finest silver plate and several 
 gold vases, offerings received by the goddess 
 of the temple. I decked the sideboard with 
 bottles of various wines ; and acted as cup- 
 bearer, to show my mistress that I could turn 
 my hand to anything. I wondered at the 
 behaviour of the actresses during the meal : 
 they assumed the airs of ladies of quality; 
 and imagined themselves to be women of the 
 highest rank. Far from addressing the noble- 
 men as "Excellency," they did not even say, 
 "your lordship," 1 but simply called them by 
 their names. To be sure, these noblemen 
 spoiled them, and made them vain, by being 
 somewhat too familiar with them. The actor, 
 for his part, like a man accustomed to play 
 the. hero, treated them without ceremony; 
 he drank their health, and maintained an air 
 of superiority to them. " Upon my word," I 
 
 1 See INTRODUCTORY NOTICE, p. xxxvii. 1.
 
 318 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 said to myself, " when Laura was showing me 
 that the marquis and the actor are equal during 
 the day, she might have added that they are 
 still more so during the night, since they pass 
 it in drinking together." 
 
 Arsenia and Florimonda were naturally 
 sprightly. A thousand free expressions fell 
 from them, mingled with petty favours and 
 dalliances which were highly relished by these 
 old sinners. Whilst my mistress amused one 
 by a little innocent toying, her friend, between 
 the other two, did not act the Susanna towards 
 them. As I was looking upon this picture, 
 which had only too many attractions for a 
 mature young fellow, the dessert was brought 
 on. Then I placed the bottles and glasses 
 on the table, and went away to sup with Laura, 
 who was waiting for me. " Well ! Gil Bias," 
 she said, "what do you think of the noblemen 
 you have just seen? " " No doubt," I replied, 
 " they are greatly smitten with Arsenia and 
 Florimonda." " No," she rejoined, "they are 
 old rakes who visit light of loves, 1 without 
 becoming attached to them. All they ask is 
 for a little complaisance, and they are generous 
 enough to pay handsomely for the trifling 
 favours which they receive. Thank Heaven, 
 Florimonda and my mistress are just now with- 
 out lovers; I mean that they have no such 
 lovers as come the husband over them, and 
 
 1 See page 237, note 1.
 
 . GIL BLAS. 319 
 
 want to engross all the pleasures of a house 
 because they bear all its expenses. For my 
 part I am glad of it, and I maintain that a 
 light of love of any sense should avoid all 
 engagements of that kind. Why should she 
 give herself a master ? It is better to earn a 
 carnage penny by penny than to have it all at 
 once, at such a price." 
 
 When Laura was in the mood for talking, 
 which was almost always the case, words cost 
 her nothing. What a voluble tongue she had ! 
 She related a thousand adventures of the 
 actresses of the Prince's company ; and I con- 
 cluded from all she said that I could not be 
 in a better position for becoming perfectly 
 acquainted with vice. Unfortunately I was at 
 an age when vice does not inspire much horror; 
 and it must be added that the maid could paint 
 irregularities so well that I saw only their 
 attractive side. She had hardly time to relate to 
 me a tenth part of the actresses' exploits, for 
 she had not been talking more than three 
 hours when the noblemen and the actor went 
 away with Florimonda, whom they saw safe 
 home. 
 
 After they had gone, my mistress, putting 
 some money into my hands, said : " Gil Bias, 
 here are ten pistoles, to go to market with 
 to-morrow. Five or six of our gentlemen and 
 ladies are to dine here : take care to let us 
 have everything nice." " Madam," I replied,
 
 320 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 " with this sum I would engage to regale the 
 whole troop." " My friend," replied Arsenia, 
 " please amend your expressions ; I would have 
 you know that you must not say a troop, but 
 a company of actors. People speak of a troop 
 of highwaymen, a troop of beggars, a troop of 
 authors ; but they always say a company of 
 actors. The actors of Madrid especially deserve 
 to be called a company." I begged my mis- 
 tress's pardon for having used so disrespectful 
 a term, and entreated her very humbly to 
 excuse my ignorance. I assured her that for 
 the future, when I spoke of the gentlemen 
 actors of Madrid in their collective capacity, I 
 would always say " the company." l 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 HOW THE ACTORS LIVED TOGETHER, AND IN WHAT 
 MANNER THEY TREATED AUTHORS. 
 
 NEXT morning I began to discharge my func- 
 tions as a purveyor. It was a fast day. By 
 my mistress's directions I bought some good 
 fat chickens, rabbits, partridges, and other 
 
 1 The discussion about the use of the words " troop " and 
 " company " was not new in France. The president of the Paris 
 parliament, De Harlay, is reputed to have said to some actors who 
 came to ask him a favour, that he would communicate to his troop 
 the request of their company.
 
 GIL BLAS. 321 
 
 small birds. As the gentlemen players are 
 not satisfied with the behaviour of the Church 
 towards them, they do not scrupulously observe 
 her ordinances. I brought home more provi- 
 sions than were needed for a dozen good people 
 to spend a pleasant three days' carnival. The 
 cook had her hands full all the morning. 
 Whilst she was getting dinner ready, Arsenia 
 rose, and was at her toilette till noon. Then 
 two actors, Rosimiro and Ricardo, arrived ; next 
 came two actresses, Constantia and Celinaura ; 
 and a moment later Florimonda appeared, 
 accompanied by a man who had all the appear- 
 ance of a most finished coxcomb. 1 His hair 
 was foppishly dressed, his hat was set off with 
 a plume of filemot feathers, he wore very tight 
 breeches, and through the slashes in his doublet 
 he displayed a fine shirt with very handsome 
 lace. His gloves and handkerchief were in the 
 hilt of his sword, and he wore his cloak with a 
 grace peculiar to himself. 
 
 Nevertheless, though he was good looking 
 and had a handsome figure, I took him at once 
 for some eccentric individual. " This gentleman 
 must be an original," said I to myself. I was 
 not mistaken ; he was a remarkable character. 
 As soon as he entered Arsenia's room he 
 ran forward with open arms to embrace the 
 actresses and actors one after another, with 
 more extravagant gestures than those of the 
 
 1 The original has Setior cavallero.
 
 322 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 beaux. My opinion was not changed when I 
 heard him speak. He paused on every syllable, 
 and pronounced his words emphatically, with 
 gestures and looks suited to the subject. I 
 had the curiosity to ask Laura who this gentle- 
 man was. " I can pardon your inquisitiveness," 
 she said; "it is impossible to see and to hear 
 Senor Carlos Alonzo de la Ventoleria 1 for the 
 first time without an eager desire to know 
 something about him. I will draw him to 
 the life. In the first place, he was originally 
 an actor. He gave up the stage through a 
 whim, and now repents it in earnest. Did you 
 observe his dark hair ? It is dyed ; and so are 
 his eyebrows and his moustache. He is older 
 than Saturn ; but as his parents neglected at 
 the time of his birth to have his name inscribed 
 in the parish register, he takes advantage of 
 their omission, and always calls himself a 
 good twenty years younger than he is. More- 
 over, he is the most conceited man in Spain. 
 He passed the first sixty years of his life in 
 dense ignorance; but, in order to become a 
 learned man, he engaged a private tutor who 
 taught him to spell in Latin and Greek. Nay, 
 more, he knows by heart an infinite number of 
 good stories, which he has related so often as 
 genuine that he now actually believes they are 
 so. He introduces them constantly into his 
 conversation, and it may be said that his wit 
 
 1 Fentolera means " gust, vanity, pride."
 
 GIL BLAS. 323 
 
 shines at the expense of his memory. For the 
 rest, he is thought to be a great actor. I devoutly 
 believe it ; but I confess that he does not please 
 me. I sometimes hear him declaiming, and, 
 amongst other faults, I think his pronunciation 
 too affected, which, with his tremulous voice, 
 makes his style of delivery seem antiquated 
 and ridiculous." 
 
 Such was the picture that the ladies' maid 
 drew of this honorary mummer, and in truth I 
 never saw a human being with a more haughty 
 bearing. He set up, also, for a good conver- 
 sationalist. He did not fail to bring two or 
 three anecdotes out of his budget, which he 
 related in an impressive and studied manner. 
 On the other hand, the actors and actresses, 
 who had not come there to be silent, did not 
 hold their tongues. They began to discuss 
 their absent comrades, in a manner not over 
 charitable to be sure ; but this must be par- 
 doned in actors, as well as in authors. The 
 conversation, therefore, grew warm on this 
 subject. " Ladies," said Rosimiro, "you would 
 never guess, what is the last trick of our dear 
 comrade Cesarino ? This very morning he 
 bought some silk stockings, ribbons, and lace, 
 which he ordered a page to bring to the 
 rehearsal as though they were a present from 
 a countess." " What knavery," said Senor de 
 la Ventoleria, with a silly and conceited simper. 
 " People were more honest in my time. We
 
 324 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 never thought of inventing such stories. It is 
 true that ladies of quality spared us the neces- 
 sity for it, for they made the purchases them- 
 selves ; it was their whim." " Zounds ! " said 
 Ricardo, in the same manner, " the whim still 
 possesses them; and if I were permitted to 
 explain myself . . . but one must not talk of 
 these things, especially when ladies of a certain 
 rank are concerned." 
 
 " Gentlemen," Florimonda broke in, " a truce 
 to your love affairs, if you please ; they are 
 known over the whole earth. Let us talk of 
 Ismenia. They say that the nobleman who 
 has spent so much money on her has slipped 
 out of her hands." " Yes, it is a fact," said 
 Constantia; " and what is more, I can tell you 
 that she has also lost a little gentleman, who 
 was in trade, and whom she would infallibly 
 have ruined. I heard this news from the best 
 authority. Her Mercury made an unfortunate 
 mistake ; he took to the nobleman a note she 
 wrote for the cit, and sent to the cit a note 
 addressed by her to the nobleman." " These 
 are great losses, my dear ! " replied Flori- 
 monda. " Oh ! as for the lord," rejoined 
 Constantia, "that is no great matter; he almost 
 had spent all his wealth, but the little cit 
 was only just beginning his career. He has not 
 yet been through the hands of the coquettes : 
 more's the pity." 
 
 Such was almost the tenor of their conver-
 
 GIL BLAS. 325 
 
 sation till dinner time, and when they were at 
 table their talk turned on the same topic. 
 As I should never have done were I to under- 
 take to relate all the other speeches full of 
 scandal or silliness which I heard, the reader 
 will thank me for suppressing them, that I 
 may tell him how a poor devil of an author 
 was received, who arrived about the end of 
 the meal. 
 
 Our little page came and said aloud to his 
 mistress: "Madam, a man with a dirty shirt, 
 splashed up to his middle, and who, if you 
 please, looks very much like a poet, wants to 
 see you." " Shew him up," replied Arsenia. 
 " Do not stir, gentlemen, it is only an author." 
 And in fact it was an author, whose tragedy 
 had been accepted, and who 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 even returned his compli- 
 ment. Arsenia merely responded by a slight 
 inclination of her head to the civilities with 
 which he overwhelmed her. He advanced, 
 trembling and confused, dropped his gloves 
 and his hat, picked them up again, drew near 
 my mistress, and presented to her a roll of 
 paper more respectfully than a man who has 
 a law suit presents a petition to a judge. 
 " Madam," he said, " deign to accept the part 
 which I venture to offer you." She received it
 
 326 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 with a cold and scornful manner, and did not 
 even condescend to reply to the compliment. 
 
 This did not repel our author, who, taking 
 the opportunity to distribute other parts, gave 
 one to Rosimiro and another to Florimonda, who 
 treated him with no more civility than Arsenia. 
 On the contrary the actor, naturally very 
 obliging, as these gentlemen are for the most 
 part, insulted him with stinging jests. Pedro 
 de Moya felt them, but nevertheless dared not 
 notice them, for fear his piece might suffer for it. 
 He departed without saying a word, but acutely 
 hurt, so it seemed to me, by the reception he 
 had met with. I fancy that in his annoyance 
 he did not fail to bestow on the actors such 
 names as they deserved; and the actors, for 
 their part, when he was gone, began to speak 
 of authors very respectfully, indeed ! l 
 
 " I think," said Florimonda, " that Senor 
 Pedro de Moya did not go away very highly 
 pleased." "Well! madam," cried Kosimiro, 
 " why should you trouble yoiirself about that? 
 Are authors worth our notice ? If we treated 
 them as our equals it would spoil them. I 
 know these sorry gentlemen, I know them ; 
 they would soon forget themselves. Let us 
 always treat them as slaves, and never be afraid 
 of tiring their patience. If their ill-humour 
 sometimes keeps them at a distance from us, 
 
 1 The " very respectfully, indeed ! " is evidently used ironically 
 here.
 
 GIL BLAS. 327 
 
 the rage for writing will bring them back 
 again, and they are only too happy if we will 
 but condescend to play their pieces." "You 
 are right," said Arsenia; "we only lose those 
 authors whose fortunes we have made. As 
 soon as we have raised them to a good position 
 idleness takes possession of them, and they 
 work no more. Fortunately the company 
 consoles itself, and the public are no losers." 
 
 These fine speeches were applauded ; and it 
 was agreed that authors, though badly treated 
 by the actors, were still indebted to them. 
 These mummers looked down on them as their 
 inferiors, and certainly contempt could not 
 farther go. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 GIL BLAS ACQUIRES A TASTE FOR THE STAGE. HE 
 GIVES HIMSELF UP TO THE PLEASURES OF A 
 THEATRICAL LIFE, BUT SOON BECOMES DIS- 
 GUSTED WITH IT. 
 
 THE company remained at table until it was 
 time to go to the theatre. Then they all went 
 there together. I followed them, and saw the 
 play again. It pleased me so much that I 
 resolved to attend there every day. This I
 
 328 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 did, and gradually became used to the actors ; 
 and such is the force of habit that I was 
 particularly charmed with those who ranted and 
 gesticulated most wildly, and I was not at all 
 singular in that respect. 
 
 The beauty of the plays performed touched 
 me no less than their mode of representation. 
 Some enraptured me; and amongst others I 
 liked those in which all the cardinals, or the 
 twelve peers of France were brought on the 
 stage. I retained in my memory scraps of 
 these incomparable plays. I remember that in 
 two days I learned by heart an entire comedy, 
 called The Queen of Flowers. The Rose, who was 
 the queen, had the Violet for her confidante, 
 and the Jasmine for her gentleman usher. I 
 could not conceive anything more ingenious 
 than these productions, which seemed to me 
 to do great credit to our national taste. 1 
 
 Not content with storing my memory with 
 the finest passages of these dramatic master- 
 pieces, I laboured to improve my taste; and 
 the more certainly to secure this object, I 
 listened with greedy ears to every word that fell 
 from the actors' lips. If they praised a piece, I 
 valued it ; if it seemed bad to them, I despised 
 it. I took them to be as good judges of plays 
 
 1 This is a hit at the Spanish stage, on which were often repre- 
 sented allegorical characters. Cervantes was one of the first to in- 
 troduce them.
 
 GIL BLAS. 329 
 
 as jewellers are of diamonds. Nevertheless, 
 the tragedy of Pedro de Moya was a great 
 success, though they had prophesied it would 
 be a failure. But this did not make me sus- 
 pect their judgment. I preferred to think that 
 the public was wanting in common sense, rather 
 than doubt the infallibility of the company. I 
 was assured, however, on all hands that the new 
 plays of which the actors had a bad opinion 
 were generally applauded; and that those on 
 the contrary which they received with com- 
 mendations were nearly always hissed. I was 
 told it was the custom with them to judge 
 thus erroneously of plays ; and a thousand 
 cases of success were mentioned which had 
 belied their predictions. It needed all these 
 testimonies to undeceive me. 
 
 I shall never forget what happened one day 
 when a new comedy was being played for the 
 first time. The actors had pronounced it cold 
 and tedious; they had even declared that it 
 would never be heard till the end. Under this 
 impression they got through the first act, which 
 was much applauded. This astonished them. 
 They played the second act ; and the public 
 received it still better than the first. The 
 actors were disconcerted ! " Why, the deuce," 
 said Eosimiro, " this comedy is taking ! " Then 
 they went on with the third act, which pleased 
 still more than the two former. "I cannot 
 understand it," said Ricardo ; " we thought
 
 330 ADVENTURES OF 
 
 this piece would not be relished, and every- 
 body is delighted with it!" "Gentlemen," 
 said one of the actors with much simplicity. 
 " it is because it contains a thousand strokes of 
 wit which we have overlooked." l 
 
 I therefore ceased to look upon actors as 
 competent judges, and began correctly to 
 appreciate their merits . They thoroughly j us ti- 
 fied all the ridicule which society heaped upon 
 them. I saw actresses and actors whom 
 applause had spoiled, and who, thinking them- 
 selves objects of universal admiration, fancied 
 they conferred a favour on the public when they 
 appeared on the boards. I was disgusted by 
 their faults ; but unfortunately I found their 
 way of life a little too much to my taste, and 
 plunged into debauchery. How could I help 
 it? All the conversation I heard amongst 
 them was pernicious to a young man, and 
 everything I saw contributed to corrupt me. 
 Had I not known what went on at Casilda's, at 
 Constantia's, and with other actresses, Arsenia's 
 house alone was only too well fitted to ruin 
 me. Besides the old noblemen of whom I 
 have spoken, there came thither the beaux, 
 young men of good family whom the usurers 
 enabled to spend money extravagantly, and 
 
 1 A similar remark is said to have been made by an actor of 
 the TMdtre Franfais, when one of the comedies of Dufresny 
 (a contemporary of Lesage), had been very successful, in spite of 
 the adverse criticisms of the theatrical company.
 
 GIL BLAS. 331 
 
 sometimes also farmers of the revenue who, far 
 from receiving any money, as they did in their 
 own assemblies, for their mere presence, paid 
 here for the right to be present. 1 
 
 Florimonda, who lived near us, dined and 
 supped at Arsenia's every day. They seemed 
 so very intimate that many people were sur- 
 prised by it. It was thought astonishing that 
 coquettes should maintain such a good under- 
 standing with each other, and people imagined 
 that sooner or later they would quarrel about 
 some gentleman; but people could not read 
 the hearts of such exemplary friends. A stead- 
 fast affection united them. Instead of being 
 jealous of each other, like other women, they 
 had everything in common, preferring to share 
 the spoils rather than foolishly wrangle about 
 the inclinations of the men. 
 
 Laura, following the example of these illus- 
 trious associates, also made the most of her 
 youth. She had rightly told me that I should 
 see some strange doings. However, I did not 
 play the part of a jealous man, for I had pro- 
 mised to adopt the tone of the company in this 
 respect. For some days I dissembled, content- 
 ing myself with asking her the names of the 
 men with whom I saw her in private conversa- 
 tion. She always told me that they were uncles 
 
 1 The traitants or farmers of the revenue, in their yearly assem- 
 blies, were paid for their attendance by jetons, which were worth 
 a certain sum of money.
 
 332 THE ADVENTURES OF 
 
 or cousins. What a number of relatives she had ! 
 Her family must have been more numerous 
 than that of King Priam ! The girl did not 
 indeed confine herself to her uncles and cousins ; 
 she occasionally went about luring strangers, 
 and personating the widow of rank at the 
 house of the old woman, mentioned before. In 
 fact, Laura, to give the reader a just and pre- 
 cise notion of her character, was as young, as 
 pretty, and as loose as her mistress, who had no 
 other advantage over her than that of amusing 
 the town in a more public capacity. 
 
 I was borne down by the stream for three 
 weeks, and gave myself up to all kinds of 
 debauchery. But at the same time I must say 
 that amidst these pleasures I often felt the 
 stirrings of remorse, arising from my education, 
 which embittered my enjoyments. License 
 could not altogether triumph over this remorse. 
 On the contrary, as I became more profligate, 
 I became more repentant, and, thanks to my 
 happy disposition, the disorders of a theatrical 
 career began to make me shudder. "Ah! 
 wretch," I said to myself, " is this how you are 
 fulfilling the expectations of your family? 
 Was it not enough to deceive them by aban- 
 doning the vocation of a tutor? Ought your 
 condition as a servant prevent you from living 
 as an honest man? Does it become you to 
 be the companion of such vicious people? 
 Envy, rage, and avarice sway some, while
 
 GIL BLAS. 333 
 
 modesty is abandoned by others. These again 
 give themselves up to intemperance and sloth, 
 and those carry their pride even to insolence. 
 It is enough; I will live no longer with the 
 seven deadly sins." 
 
 END OF VOLUME FIRST. 
 
 TURNBULL AND SPEARS, PRINTERS. EDINBURGH.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES 
 
 COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
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