In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

GIL BLAS TO THE READER. Gentle reader, before thou hearest the history of my life, give me leave to entertain thee with a short story. Two scholars, in their way from Pennasiel to Salamanca,1 being thirsty and fatigued, sat down by a spring they met with on the road. There, while they rested themselves, after having quenched their thirst, they perceived by accident, upon a stone that was even with the surface of the earth, some letters, already half effaced by time, and the feet of flocks that came to water at the fountain: having washed it, they read these words in the Castilian tongue: Aqui est à encerrada el alma del Licenciado Pedro Garcias, “Here is interred the soul of the Licentiate Peter Garcias.”2 The younger of the two students, being a pert coxcomb, no sooner read this inscription, than he cried with a loud laugh, “A good joke i’faith; Here is interred the soul—a soul interred!—Who the devil could be the author of such a wise epitaph!” So saying, he got up and went away: while his companion, who was blessed with a greater share of penetration, said to himself , “There is certainly some mystery in this affair: I’ll stay in order to unriddle it.” Accordingly , his comrade was no sooner out of sight, than he began to dig with his knife all around the stone; and succeeded so well, that he got it up, and found beneath it a leathern purse, containing an hundred ducats,3 and a card, on which was written the following sentence in Latin, “Whosoever thou art who hast wit enough to discover the meaning of the inscription, inherit my money, and make a better use of it than I have done.” The scholar, rejoiced at his good fortune, placed the stone in its former situation , and walked home to Salamanca with the soul of the licentiate. Of what complection soever thou mayest be, friendly reader, thou wilt certainly resemble one of those two scholars: for if thou perusest my adventures, without perceiving the moral instructions they contain, thou wilt reap no harvest from thy labour: but if thou readest with attention, thou wilt find in them, according to the precept of Horace , profit mingled with pleasure.4 This page intentionally left blank ...

Share