The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 3 (of 3)Le Sage, Alain René
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The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 3 (of 3)
Le Sage, Alain René
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Blas, Gil (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
In such a state of mind, resumed Scipio, I was capable of anything.
Those who know by experience what jealousy is, into what extravagance
it drives the best regulated spirits, will be at no loss to conceive
the disorder it must have produced in my weak brain. I passed in a
moment from one extreme to another: emotions of hatred succeeded
instantaneously to all my former sentiments of affection for my wife.
I took an oath never to see her more, and to banish her forever from
my memory. Besides, the supposed death of a man lay upon my
conscience; and, under that idea, I was afraid of falling into the
hands of justice; so that every torment which could be accumulated on
the head of guilt and misery by the fury of despair and the demon of
remorse, was the remediless companion of my wretched flight. In this
dreadful situation, thinking only of my escape, I returned home no
more, but immediately quitted Toledo, with no other provision for my
journey but the clothes on my back. It is true I had about sixty
pistoles in my pocket--a tolerable supply for a young man whose views
in life pointed no higher than a good service.
I walked forward all night, or rather ran, for the phantom of an
alguazil always dogging me at the heels made me perform wonders of
pedestrian activity. The dawn overtook me between Rodillas and
Maqueda. When I was at the latter town, finding myself a little
weary, I went into the church which was just opened, and having put
up a short prayer, sat down on a bench to rest. I began musing on
the state of my affairs, which were sufficiently out at elbows to
require all my skill in patchwork; but the time for reflection, as
well as for repentance, was cut short. The church echoed on a sudden
with three or four smacks of a whip, which made me conclude that some
carrier was on the road. I immediately got up to go and see whether
I was right or wrong. At the door, I found a man, mounted on a mule,
leading two others by the halter. Stop, my friend, said I: whither
are those two mules going? To Madrid, answered he. I came hither
with two good Dominicans, and am now setting out on my return.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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