The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 3 (of 3)Le Sage, Alain René
General
The Adventures of Gil Blas of Santillane, Volume 3 (of 3)
Le Sage, Alain René
Adventure and adventurers -- Fiction; Blas, Gil (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
Next night it was my turn to treat the goldsmith. Not being able to
dazzle him with my sideboard, I had recourse to another artifice. I
invited to supper such of my friends as made the finest figure at
court, hangers-on of state, noted for the unwieldiness of their
ambition. These fellows could not talk on common topics: the
brilliant and lucrative posts at which they aimed were all canvassed
in detail; this too made its way. Poor counting-house Gabriel, in
amazement at the loftiness of their ideas, shrunk into
insignificance, in spite of all his hoards, on a comparison with
these wonderful men. As for me, in all the plausiblity of
moderation, I professed to wish for nothing more than a comfortable
fortune; a snug box and a competence: whereupon these gluttons of the
loaves and fishes cried out with one voice that I was wrong,
absolutely criminal; for the prime minister would do anything upon
earth for me, and it was an act of duty to anoint my fingers with
bird-lime. My honored papa lost not a word of all this, and seemed,
at going away, to take his leave with some complacency.
Scipio went, of course, the next morning, to ask him how he liked me.
Extremely well indeed, answered the knight of the ledger; the lad has
won my very heart. But, good master Scipio, I conjure you by our
long acquaintance to deal with me as a true friend. We have all our
weak side, as you well know. Tell me where Signor de Santillane is
fallible. Is he fond of play? Does he wench? On what lay are his
snug little vices? Do not fight shy, I beseech you. It is very
unkind, Signor Gabriel, to put such a question, retorted the
go-between. Your interest is more to me than my master's. If he had
any slippery propensities, likely to make your daughter unhappy,
would I ever have proposed him as a son-in-law? The deuce a bit! I
am too much at your service. But, between ourselves, he has but one
fault--that of being faultless. He is too wise for a young man. So
much the better, replied the goldsmith; he is the more like me. You
may go, my friend, and tell him he shall have my daughter, and should
have her, though he knew no more of the minister than I do.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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