to to seek their fortunes to give themselves names of consequence,
without which they would pass for nobody in strange countries, I took my
mother’s name, which was Guzman, and to add to it d’Alfarache. This
appeared to me so well imagined, that I felt fully persuaded in my own
imagination that I was already nothing less than the illustrious Don
Guzman d’Alfarache.
This newly created signor not having set out until late in the
afternoon, went but a short distance the first day, though he made what
haste he could for fear of being pursued. In fact I went no farther than
the chapel of St. Lazarus, which is but a short way from the city. Being
already fatigued I sat down on the steps rather sorrowfully, beginning
to feel some anxiety as to what would become of me. After having sat
there thinking for some time, a religious idea came across my mind,
which I immediately gratified by entering the chapel, where I addressed
myself to God, beseeching him to inspire me with his counsels. My prayer
was fervent, but short, the time not allowing me to make it longer, for
it was just the hour for closing the chapel, which I was therefore
obliged to quit, and I was left on the steps again, where I remained not
without fear of what might happen to me.
Represent to yourself at the door of this chapel a child who had been
accustomed to every indulgence and maintained in plenty. Consider that I
knew not where to go, nor what to decide on. There was no inn near to
the place, though my appetite informed me that it was quite supper-time.
There was certainly plenty of clear water running within a few paces of
me, but this was a cheerless prospect. I began now to find the
difference between an hungry man and one who has his bellyful; between a
man who is accustomed to a table covered with good victuals, and one who
has not a morsel of bread to eat. Not knowing what to do with myself,
nor at what door to venture to rap, I made up my mind to pass the night
where I was. I laid myself down, therefore, at full length, covering my
face with my cloak as well as I was able, not without fear of being
devoured by wolves, which I sometimes fancied I heard not far from me.
Sleep, however, at last suspended my uneasiness, and took so fast
possession of my senses, that the sun had been up two hours before I
awoke, and which perhaps I had not done then, but for the noise of
tambours, made by a number of country wenches who passed me singing and
dancing along the road, on their way to some festival. I rose quickly,
and perceiving several ways equally unknown to me, I chose the
pleasantest, saying; “may this road, which I take by chance, conduct me
in a straight line to the temple of fortune.” I was like that ignorant
quack of la Mancha, who generally carried about with him a bag full of
prescriptions, and when he visited any sick person, put his hand in at
random, giving the first that came uppermost, saying, _God grant it may
do thee good_. My feet performed the office of my head, and I followed
them without knowing whither they led me.
I walked two leagues that morning, which was not a short distance for a
lad to do, who had never travelled so far in his life before. I believed
myself already arrived at the Antipodes, and that I had discovered
another world, like the famous Christopher Columbus. This new world,
however, was nothing but a miserable tavern, which I entered all in a
perspiration, covered with dust, and dying with fatigue and hunger. I
asked for dinner, and was informed that there was nothing but fresh eggs
in the house. “Fresh eggs,” cried I; “well, I must be content; make
haste then, and prepare me an omelet of about half a dozen.” The
hostess, who was a frightful old woman, began to examine me with
attention, and seeing that I was a raw, herring-gutted looking lad, and
very hungry, she thought she might safely venture to pass upon me for
fresh, some eggs which were about half hatched. With this opinion she
came up to me, and laughing in my face with as pleasant an air as she
could affect, she asked me whence I came? I told her from Seville, and
entreated her afresh to let me have the eggs; but before she did what I
desired, she thrust her nasty hand under my chin, saying, “And where is
my little wag of Seville going?” At the same time she wished to kiss me;
but I turned quickly round to avoid this felicity. I was not, however,
so quick as entirely to escape her stinking breath, the fumes of which
made me fear it would have communicated her age and distempers to me;
fortunately, I had nothing but wind on my stomach, or I should certainly
have vomited over her, as the only return I could make her for such a
compliment.
I told her I was going to Court, and entreated her again to let me have
something to eat. She then made me sit down on a broken stool, before a
stone table, on which she laid a napkin, which looked as if it had but
newly cleaned the oven. On this she placed, for a saltcellar, the
bottom of a broken earthen pot, and some water in a vessel of the same
ware, out of which her fowls generally drank, together with a coarse
piece of cake, as black as the before-mentioned table cloth. After
making me wait about a quarter of an hour longer, she served up, on a
filthy platter, an omelet, or what might more properly have been termed
an egg poultice. The omelet, plate, bread, drinking-pot, saltcellar,
salt, napkin, and hostess, appeared to be precisely of the same colour.
My stomach ought to have revolted against such disgusting appearances;
but, independent of my being a young traveller, I had fasted so long,
that my bowels reproached me most violently with their unkind usage; so
that notwithstanding the uncleanly arrangements on the table, and the
bad seasoning of the eggs, I attacked the omelet as hogs do acorns. I
felt, indeed, something grate between my teeth, which ought to have
made me suspect that all was not right, but I took no notice of it; but
when I had got to the few last mouthfuls, I could not help thinking that
this omelet had not exactly the same taste as those I had eaten at my
mother’s house; but this I good-naturedly attributed to the difference
of the country, imagining that eggs were not in all places equally good,
as if I had been five hundred leagues from home. After I had demolished
this excellent dish, I felt myself so much better than I was before,
that I was more than usually happy in having got so good a meal; so true
is it, that _hunger is the best sauce_.
I did not so soon get through the bread, it being so bad that I was
obliged to eat slowly, or I should certainly have choaked myself with
it. I began with the crust and ended with the crumb, which indeed, was
so little baked that it was little better than dough; notwithstanding
which, however, I played my part very creditably, but not without the
assistance of the wine, which was delicious. I rose from table as soon
as I had finished my dinner, paid my hostess, and set forward on my
journey again in good spirits. My feet, which before were scarce able to
bear me, seemed now to have completely regained their former activity.
I had already got about a league from the inn, when what I had eaten
beginning to digest, seemed to create such a combustion in my belly,
accompanied by such a rising in my stomach, that I began to suspect
something. I had not forgotten the resistance that my teeth had met with
in getting through the eggs, and after reflecting what it could be for
some time, I doubted no longer, that my omelet had been amphibious, and
must have had something in it that should not have been there. So that
not being able to carry such a burden about with me any longer, I was
obliged to stop to relieve myself.
CHAP. VI.
_Guzman meets with a Muleteer and two Friars; of their conversation; and
in what manner the Muleteer and he were regaled at an Inn at
Cantillana._
I remained for some time leaning against the wall of a vineyard, very
pale and much weakened by the retchings that I was making. A muleteer
passed by with some unladen mules; he stopped to look at me, and seeing
me in such a condition, asked what ailed me: I told him what had
happened to me, but no sooner had I said that I imputed my illness to
the omelet that I had eaten at the inn, than he began to laugh so
violently, that if he had not held himself fast on his mule with both
hands, he must infallibly have fallen to the ground.
When one is afflicted, it is by no means agreeable to be laughed at. My
face, which just before was as pale as death, became as red as fire in
an instant, and I looked with so ill an eye upon this rascal, as
sufficiently gave him to understand that I was far from being pleased at
his behaviour; but this only made him laugh the more; so that perceiving
that the more I vexed myself, the more he laughed, I allowed him to go
on until he was completely exhausted: besides, I had neither sword nor
stick, and at fisticuffs I should have fared but badly; I was,
therefore, prudent enough to speak him fair. A wise man, however much he
may be offended, never sets up for a bravo when the party is too strong
against him; besides, I did not think fit to disoblige my man, for the
sake of his mules. I could not, however, entirely refrain from
mentioning it to him. “Well, my friend,” said I, “and why all this
violent mirth? does my nose stand awry?” But the only answer I could
obtain to these questions, was a renewal of his immoderate laughter.
It pleased God, however, that he at length gave over; and recovering
himself by degrees, he said to me, gasping for breath all the while, “It
is not at your adventure, my little gentleman, that I laugh, for it is
certainly very unfortunate for you; but your relating it reminded me of
another which has just happened to that same old hag that treated you so
ill. Two soldiers whom she regaled in the same manner, have sufficiently
revenged you all three. As we are going the same way,” added he, “jump
up on one of my mules, and I will tell you the story as we ride along.”
Without waiting to be twice asked, I mounted one of his beasts, and was
ready to hear what he had to tell me respecting these two soldiers, whom
I recollected to have met entering the inn just as I left it.
“These two wags,” said he, “asked the hostess what she had to give them.
She told them in the same manner as she did you, that she had nothing
but eggs; they bade her make ready an omelet, which the old woman soon
brought them; but in cutting it their knives found resistance from
something which they proceeded to examine with attention, and discovered
three small lumps, much resembling the heads of unformed chickens, whose
beaks were already so hard as plainly to shew what they were. The
soldiers, after having made so rare a discovery, without taking any
notice of it, covered the omelet with a plate, and asked the hostess if
she had nothing else she could give them; she proposed to broil them two
or three slices of shad-fish, which they accepted, and soon dispatched,
with the assistance of white sauce; after which, one of these rogues,
going up to the old woman, as if for the purpose of paying the
reckoning, with the omelet concealed in his hand, clapped it full in
her face, and so completely rubbed it all over her eyes and nose, that
she bawled out for help most lustily; whereupon the other soldier,
seeming to blame his comrade and pity the poor old woman, ran up to her
under the pretence of consoling her, and stroked her over the face with
his hands all bedaubed with soot. This done, they both left the house,
still continuing to abuse your old acquaintance, who got no other
payment for her entertainment. I assure you,” said the muleteer, “it was
a high treat to see mine hostess in this delicate condition, with the
agreeable distortions of countenance that she made, crying and laughing
at the same moment.”
The recital of this ridiculous story somewhat consoled me for my own
adventure, and inclined me to forgive the laughter of the muleteer, who
did not fail to set to again as soon as he had ended his narration. All
this while we were trotting onwards; we overtook two friars, who, having
seen us from afar off, had waited till we came up, that they might have
the benefit of the mules. They quickly agreed with the muleteer to carry
them to Cazalla, whither he also was going; and, having mounted their
mules, we continued our journey.
The muleteer was still too much taken up with the recollection of his
pleasure at the inn, to give up speaking of it so soon. He could not
resist telling us that there was sufficient in that adventure to serve
him for laughter for the remainder of his days; “and I,” cried I,
interrupting him abruptly, “shall have cause to repent all my life that
I did not serve that poisonous old hag even worse than the soldiers did;
but she is not yet dead,” added I, “and I may have my revenge still.”
The friars, remarking with what eagerness I uttered these words, were
curious to know what had been the occasion of it. The muleteer, who
desired no better sport, that he might have another excuse for a good
hearty laugh, related the story anew to these gentlemen: and in the
course of it introduced my misfortune also, which was no small
mortification to me.
The friars condemned exceedingly the conduct of the old hostess, and
blamed my resentment no less. “My son,” said the elder of the two to me,
“you are but young; hot blood carries you away, and deprives you of the
use of your reason; know that you have sinned as much in having
regretted that you have lost the opportunity of committing a crime, as
if you had really committed one.” The holy man did not finish his
remonstrance here, but held a long discourse upon anger, and the desire
of revenge. It appeared to me so like a sermon, that I was persuaded he
had preached it more than once, and that he was glad to have the
opportunity of refreshing his memory by repeating it. Certain it is,
that the most part of what he addressed to me was far above my
comprehension, as well as that of our muleteer, who thinking of nothing
but the old woman, was laughing in his sleeve, all the time that the
preacher was throwing away his time upon us. At length we arrived at
Cantillana, where the two friars took leave of us until the next
morning, and went to take up their night’s lodging at a friend’s house.
For my part I did not leave the muleteer, who told me that he would
undertake to carry me to one of the best inns in the town: where the
host was an excellent cook, and where I need not be afraid of having
hatched eggs passed upon me. This assurance pleased me exceedingly, for
I required a good meal to set me to rights: and we proceeded to the door
of a house of tolerable good appearance, the master of which received us
with great civility. This was perhaps the completest knave in that part
of the country; and I only got out of the fryingpan into the fire, as
the saying is. The muleteer led his beasts to the stable, where he
remained for some time to provide for their wants, and as I was much
fatigued, the soles of my feet being much swollen, and my thighs feeling
as if they were broken, from riding three or four hours without
stirrups, I laid myself down and rested until the muleteer returned, who
asked me whether I was not ready for my supper; for that he had resolved
to set out next morning at break of day, that he might reach Cazalla
before night, and should therefore be glad to get to bed early. I
answered that there was nothing would give me greater satisfaction than
to sit down to table, provided he would assist me to rise and even to
walk, as I could scarcely support my own weight. He did me this service
so readily that I felt much obliged to him.
We then called the landlord, and told him that we wished for a good
supper. “Gentlemen,” answered he, “I have such excellent provisions in
the house, that you will have yourselves only to blame if you do not
fare well, for you have only to say what you would like.” This answer
pleased me exceedingly, but I was afraid that he exaggerated, for I
fancied that he had the looks of a rogue; no matter, said I to myself,
let him be as much a rogue as he pleases, so he use us but well; he was
a pleasant sort of fellow, and a man of some humour. “Will you allow
me,” said he, “to dress you a part of the pluck of a calf that I killed
yesterday? I will make you a ragout of it fit for the Gods; it was the
prettiest little calf,” added he, taking me kindly by the hand, “that
you perhaps ever saw. I was extremely mortified that I was obliged to
kill it, but the drought of the season would not allow me to keep it.”
We begged that if our supper was ready, he would let us have it
quickly; “it is not only ready dressed,” said he, “but well seasoned
also;” upon which he skipped into the kitchen, and returned in a few
minutes with two plates, in one of which was a sallad, and in the other
a part of the pluck of this much-lamented calf.
My companion seemed to fancy the sallad, for which I cared but little,
but fell on the pluck, which looked tolerably good. All that I
complained of was, that there was but very little of it for two such
hungry fellows; for no sooner had I touched a bit, than I bolted it
down, and I was so hungry that I had no time to judge of what I was
eating. The muleteer, observing from the manner in which I set to, that
I should soon empty the plate, quitted his sallad that he might at all
events dispute the last mouthfuls with me, which were demolished in a
moment. We called for another plate, but our provoking host brought us
less than before to sharpen our appetites, so that we might still wish
for more; this second plate, therefore, amused us but a very short time,
and was followed by a third.
Being by this time, however, about half satisfied, I found myself
obliged to slacken my pace; neither did I think it so good as before. I
desired our host, therefore, to let me have any thing else that he might
have in the house; he answered, that if we pleased, he would make an
exquisite ragout of the calf’s brains in an instant; in the mean time he
sent us up an andouille made of the tripe and caul of the same beast,
which he told us we should find most delicious eating; but I could not
entertain so favorable an opinion of it when I had tasted it, for it
savoured so strongly of rotten straw that I was fain to leave it to my
companion, who still went on at the same rate, and demolished the whole
of the andouille in the twinkling of an eye.
At length the ragout of brains was served up, which I hoped would have
revived my appetite; it was dressed with eggs, so that it was a kind of
omelet, which the impudent muleteer had no sooner noticed, than he set
up another of his hearty laughs; this offended me, for I thought that he
wished to disgust me with this omelet, by putting me in mind of the one
I had dined off. I gave him to understand as much, at which he only
laughed the more, which produced a pleasant scene enough; for our host,
who neither knew why he laughed, nor why I was so angry, listened to us
attentively, thinking himself concerned in the affair. Not feeling his
conscience quite at rest respecting either the brains, the andouille, or
the other dish with which he had regaled us, he was under as much
apprehension as a criminal who is afraid of every thing he hears; and
his fears redoubled when he heard me threaten the muleteer, if he
continued laughing at me, to throw the brains against the wall. Our host
turned pale at these words, thinking that we meant to accuse him; but
wishing to appear firm and resolute, he came up to us, cocking his
bonnet with a most furious look, and said: “Before God, gentlemen, I
will not submit to so much laughing; I do maintain, and ever will
maintain it to be good calf’s brains. If you will not believe me, I can
produce evidence to prove the fact, of more than a hundred persons who
saw me kill the calf.”
My companion and I were not a little surprised at the passion of a man
whom we had not so much as thought of. The muleteer redoubled his
laughter; and I could not refrain from following his example on the
occasion, though, from another cause, I felt no great inclination for it
at that time. This put our host completely out of countenance, who,
doubting no longer that we had detected his villany, became more
furious, and, snatching the plate rudely from the table, “You may go
laugh and eat elsewhere,” said he, “for I will no longer entertain
people who make a jest of me to my face; you have only to pay me,
therefore, and leave my house; after which, you have my permission to
laugh as long as you please.”
My comrade, who was still hungry, and did not see the plate handed off
without regret, finding it no joke, said to the host, in a voice not the
most agreeable, “What ails you, friend? has any one been asking your
age? has any one been calling you chucklehead?” “Chucklehead or not,”
replied our host, “I affirm it is a most excellent calf’s head.” He
pronounced these words as if he intended to thrash us both; but the
muleteer, who knew him better than I, and who was a good match for him,
rose from the table, and, taking upon himself the braggadocio in his
turn, “S’death!” cried he, “is there any law that prescribes how much a
man may laugh in this inn? or is there any tax laid upon laughing?” “I
never said that there was,” replied the host, apparently somewhat more
mild. “I only say that I will not be turned into ridicule in my own
house, nor be made to pass for one who treats his guests ill.” “Who says
any thing of ill treatment?” replied the muleteer; “who thinks of
turning you into ridicule? Be quick, and replace the ragout of brains on
the table, and you shall soon see that it was not that we laughed at. I
cannot see, however, what objection you can have to allow persons to
laugh or cry as much as they please in your house as well as elsewhere.”
The muleteer’s speech had its effect; the delicious ragout which had
been thus torn from us was returned, and we were all very friendly
again. My companion resumed his seat, and continuing to address himself
to the host,--“be assured,” said he, “that had I been laughing at you,
my character is such that I should not have concealed the cause from
you:--we were not laughing at you; but the sort of omelet you have
dressed us reminded me of an adventure my little comrade here had to day
in an inn where he dined.” If the muleteer had been content to stop
there, I should have got well off; but I was obliged to listen
patiently, for the third time, to his relation of the history of the two
soldiers, together with my adventure, which he recited to our host with
such glee, that he seemed never to be in his element but when telling
that story.
Our host had time enough to recover his temper before this long story
was finished; and judging that he had been alarmed without cause, he
thought proper to commence playing another character, and interrupted
the muleteer every moment, while his story was telling, by--_Holy
Virgin! Great God of Heaven!_ and other such exclamations, which made
the house to ring again, and which were accompanied by the most
hypocritical grimaces. “May God punish,” said he, when the muleteer had
done speaking, “all who do not perform their duty!” As his duty was to
thieve, and he could not be accused of neglecting it, he did not appear
to consider himself at all concerned in this imprecation. After this he
continued silent for some time, walking up and down the room; but
suddenly breaking forth with a thundering voice, “How is it possible,”
cried he, “that the earth hath not yet opened itself to swallow up that
house, and the wretched woman that keeps it? I have never met with any
traveller yet but complained both of her and her provisions: not a
passenger goes out of her doors but curses her, and makes oath never to
stop at her inn again. If the officers of justice, whose duty it is to
put a stop to her practices, suffer her to go on without notice, they
know very well what they are about. Good God! in what times do we live!”