The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 2 (of 3)Le Sage, Alain René
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The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 2 (of 3)
Le Sage, Alain René
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Blas, Gil (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
Do you mean that by way of news? interrupted I, as she uttered the
last sentiment. Do you imagine me to be ignorant of these
advantages? I have often conned them over in my mind, and they are
but too alluring to a girl of my character. The attractions of the
stage would be irresistible, were inclination all. But some little
talent is indispensable, and I have not a spark. I have sometimes
attempted to rehearse passages from plays before Arsenia. She was
never satisfied with my performance, and that disgusted me with the
profession. You are easily put out of conceit with yourself, replied
Phenicia. Do not you know that these great actresses are very apt to
be jealous? With all their vanity, they are afraid lest some newer
face should put them out of countenance. In short, I would not be
guided by Arsenia on that subject; she did not give her real opinion.
In my judgment, and without meaning to flatter you, the theatre is
your natural element. You have admirable powers, free and graceful
action, a fine-toned voice, volubility of declamation, and such a
turn of countenance! Ah, you little rogue! you will bring all the
young fellows behind the scenes, if once you take to the boards!
She plied me with many flattering compliments besides, and made me
recite some lines, only by way of enabling me to form my own judgment
as to my theatrical genius. Now that she was my censor, it seemed
quite another thing. She praised me up to the skies, and held all
the actresses in Madrid as mere makeweights in the scale. After such
a testimony, it would have been inexcusable to hesitate about my own
merit. Arsenia stood attainted, nay, convicted of jealousy and
treachery. There could be no question about my being everything that
was delightful. Two players happened to drop in by accident, and
Phenicia prevailed on me to repeat the lines I had already spouted;
they fell into a sort of enthusiastic trance, whence they were roused
only to launch out fervently in admiration of me. Literally, had
they all three been flattering me up for a wager, they could not have
adopted a more extravagant scale of panegyric. My modesty was not
proof against such praise from those who were themselves praised. I
began to think myself really worthy of something; and now was my
whole heart and soul turned towards a theatrical life.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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