The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 1 (of 3)Le Sage, Alain René
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The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 1 (of 3)
Le Sage, Alain René
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Blas, Gil (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
Married to the constable! exclaimed the prince, starting back to some
distance from her. He could proceed no further in his discourse, so
completely was he thunderstruck at the intelligence. Overwhelmed by
this unexpected blow, he felt his strength forsake him. His
unconscious limbs laid themselves without his guidance against the
trunk of a tree just behind him. His countenance was pallid, his
whole frame in a tremor, his mind bewildered, and his spirits
depressed. With no sense or faculty at liberty but that of gazing,
and there every power of his soul was suspended on Blanche, he made
her feel most poignantly how he himself was agonized by the fatal
event she had announced. The expression of countenance on her part
was such as to show him that her emotions were not uncongenial with
his own. Thus did these two distressed lovers for a time preserve a
silence towards each other, which portended something of terror in
its calmness. At length the prince, recovering a little from his
disorder by an effort of courage, resumed the discourse, and said to
Blanche with a sigh, Madam, what have you done? You have destroyed
me, and involved yourself in the same ruin by your credulity.
Blanche was offended at the seeming reproaches of the king, when the
strongest grounds of complaint were apparently on her side. What! my
lord, answered she, do you add dissimulation to infidelity? Would
you have me reject the evidence of my own eyes and ears, so as to
believe you innocent in spite of their report? No, my lord, I will
own to you such an effort of abstraction is not in my power. And
yet, madam, replied the king, these witnesses by whose testimony you
have been so fully convinced, are but impostors. They have been in a
conspiracy to betray you. It is no less the fact that I am innocent
and faithful, than it is true that you are married to the constable.
What is it you say, my lord? replied she. Did I not overhear you
confirming the pledge of your hand and heart to Constance? Have you
not bound yourself to the nobility of the realm, and undertaken to
comply with the will of the late king? Has not the princess received
the homage of your new subjects as their queen, and in quality of
bride to Prince Enriquez? Were my eyes then fascinated? Tell me,
tell me rather, traitor, that Blanche was weighed as dust in the
balance of your heart, when compared with the attractions of a
throne. Without lowering yourself so far as to assume what you no
longer feel, and what perhaps you never felt, own at once that the
crown of Sicily appeared a more tenable possession with Constance
than with the daughter of Leontio. You are in the right, my lord.
My title to an illustrious throne, and to the heart of a prince like
you, stands on an equally precarious footing. It was vanity in the
extreme to prefer a claim to either; but you ought not to have drawn
me on into error. You will recollect what alarms were my portion at
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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