The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 1 (of 3)Le Sage, Alain René
General
The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 1 (of 3)
Le Sage, Alain René
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Blas, Gil (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
As there was no getting rid of him, I gave way to their eager suit,
and was wedded to the Marquis de la Guardia. The day after the
nuptials, we went to a very fine castle of his near Burgos, between
Grajal and Rodillas. He conceived a violent love for me: the desire
of pleasing was visible in all his actions: the anticipation of my
slenderest wishes was his earliest and his latest study. No husband
ever regarded his wife more tenderly, no lover could pour forth more
devotion to his mistress. Nor would it have been possible for me to
steel my heart against a return of passion, though our ages were so
disproportioned, had not every soft sentiment been buried in Don
Alvar's grave. But the avenues of a constant heart are barred
against a second inmate. The memory of my first husband threw a damp
on all the kind efforts of the second. Mere gratitude was a cold
retribution for such tenderness; but it was all I had to give.
Such was my temper of mind, when, taking the air one day at a window
in my apartment, I perceived a peasant-looking man in the garden,
viewing me with fixed attention. He appeared to be a common laborer.
The circumstance soon passed out of my thoughts; but the next day,
having again taken my station at the window, I saw him on the
self-same spot, and again found myself the object of his eager gaze.
This seemed strange! I looked at him in my turn; and, after an
attentive scrutiny, thought I could trace the features of the unhappy
Don Alvar. This seeming visit from the tombs roused all the dormant
agony of my soul, and extorted from me a piercing scream. Happily, I
was then alone with Inès, who of all my women engaged the largest
share of my confidence. I told her what surmise had so agitated my
spirits. She only laughed at the idea, and took it for granted that
a slight resemblance had imposed on my fancy. Take courage, madam,
said she, and do not be afraid of seeing your first husband. What
likelihood is there of his being here in the disguise of a peasant?
Is it even within the reach of credibility that he is still alive?
However, I will go down into the garden and talk with this rustic. I
will answer for finding out who he is, and will return in all
possible haste with my intelligence. Inès ran on her errand like a
lapwing; but soon returned to my apartment with a face of mingled
astonishment and emotion. Madam, exclaimed she, your conjecture is
but too well grounded; it is indeed Don Alvar whom you have seen; he
made himself known at once, and pleads for a private interview.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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