contend with, she could not console herself under the reflection that
she had been deceived by the two persons whom she most loved, though, in
truth, she had more cause to blame her own conduct than theirs. She did
not long survive her mortification and disappointment. The ill-humours
and vexations of Don Lewis and his daughter, did not prevent the making
extraordinary rejoicings at Don Alonso’s, where Ozmin and Daraxa lodged
until the next day, when they set out for Granada, accompanied by Don
Alonso and Don Diego de Castro, who insisted on being present at their
nuptials, which were celebrated with the greatest magnificence, and
honoured by the presence of their Catholic Majesties. There were
tournaments and bull feasts, where Moors competed with the Christians in
courage and address. In addition to all this, the two lovers, to render
themselves more worthy that Heaven should shower its blessings on their
nuptials, embraced the Christian religion, and became the noble origin
of one of the most illustrious houses in Spain.
The Friar who had entertained us with this story, finished here. After
which his friend and himself commenced a conversation respecting the
wars of Granada. During all this time the muleteer, perceiving that we
were almost at the gates of Cazalla, seemed particularly anxious to say
a few words to me in private. Since our last adventure, he had not
uttered a word, but, as we were now about to part, perhaps never to meet
again, he at length broke silence by demanding of me three crowns, for
the charges of my journey, as well as for my share of what we had
expended at the inn where we had supped so well the preceding evening,
and breakfasted so delicately that very morning. This was any thing but
a joke to me, who little expected such a demand, and might have defied
him or any other person to have made me pay it, not having half that
sum in my purse; and we soon grew so warm in our arguments against each
other on this subject, that I had armed myself with two flints, which I
should certainly have levelled at his head, had not the Friars taken
compassion on me, and prevented me from getting myself well thrashed.
These gentlemen set themselves up for umpires in the case, and after
having heard both parties, condemned me to pay the muleteer a fourth
part of what he demanded. I was obliged to obey this decree, which,
favorable as it was towards me, reduced my finances so low, that I had
scarcely sufficient remaining in my purse to defray the expences of a
supper and night’s lodging at another Inn, whither I repaired after
having taken leave of the two Friars, and the unlucky muleteer, who had
no great reason, in my opinion, to thank his stars that he ever met with
me.
CHAP. X.
_Guzman becomes an Innkeeper’s Boy._
Behold me now, friendly reader, in the best inn at Cazalla, twelve
leagues from Seville, where the money I had left was sufficient to pay
for a good supper and a good bed to lie down on. Instead, however, of
enjoying a profound sleep, which such excellent fare was calculated to
procure me, the state of my affairs presented itself to my imagination
in a thousand distressing forms, and prevented me from sleeping a wink
the whole of the night. “Hitherto,” said I to myself, “I have always had
plenty to eat and drink. But this will now soon be over. When a man has
bread to eat he may support himself under any affliction. ’Tis well to
have a father; ’tis well to have a mother; but nothing is to be compared
to a good bellyful.”
Necessity, with her heretic visage, now stared me full in the face, and
occasioned the most terrible apprehensions in my mind; and I would
gladly have returned to Seville, had I not considered that money was
quite as necessary to repair my folly as to pursue my fortune. I could
compare myself to nothing but some half-starved cur, who having lost his
way, finds himself surrounded by a number of larger dogs barking and
growling at him on all sides. In addition to this, how could I, without
shame, return to my mother’s house after having left it with so much
resolution. The loss of my cloak also recurred to my remembrance, which
I imagined would be a fine subject for ridicule on my return. This last
consideration was sufficient to determine me not to return to Seville;
in addition to which, I was not less concerned that I must stop when I
was in so fair a way. A point of honour then seized me, and I resolved
to continue my journey, abandoning myself to Providence. I took the
direct road to Madrid, the ordinary residence of our Kings, hoping to
see something of the Court, which I had been told was most brilliant,
from the great number of noblemen that composed it, and above all from
the presence of a young king newly married. All this excited my
curiosity, and I encouraged the most flattering ideas, building castles
in the air without number. I fancied that a lad of my air and figure
would soon be noticed in such a country, where I should soon make
friends, and could not fail of making my fortune. Full of these
deceitful visions, I had little inclination to sleep, and lay expecting
the day with impatience. But no sooner had it arrived, and I had set out
for Madrid, than all these chimeras vanished, leaving nothing before my
eyes but a long and tedious journey.
“Courage, Signor Guzman,” said I to myself; “consider that you cannot
now retreat. Keep up your spirits, therefore, my friend, and do your
best whatever may happen. Instead of having a cloak upon your shoulders,
which would only incommode you at this time of the year, be content that
you have a good stick, which will assist you in walking.” I passed the
whole day without eating, and at night lay myself down on the grass at
the foot of a large tree, where I fell asleep from fatigue, and did not
wake until the sun had risen the next morning, when I began to feel that
I could have made a very hearty breakfast if I had had any provisions;
but not having even a morsel of the coarsest bread, I found myself
obliged to set forward again upon an empty stomach, and with an appetite
increasing every moment. Towards night, my hunger became such, that I
could scarcely walk from weakness. In vain did my stomach plead its
emptiness; my legs seemed unwilling to support my weight any farther.
Just at this moment two gentlemen, who by their looks seemed to be rich
merchants, trotted briskly past me upon mules. “Thank God!” thought I,
“here are two gentlemen who will in all probability defray my charges
to-day.” The hope of obtaining a good meal at their expense inspired me
with fresh strength, and I resolved not to lose sight of them. A meal
was now of the most serious consideration for me. With this impression I
followed them so closely that we arrived together at the inn where they
stopped. I looked more dead than alive when I came up with them; yet,
tired as I was, I shewed myself disposed to make myself useful by
holding the bridles of their mules while they alighted, and offering my
services to carry their portmanteau, with a bag containing their
provisions, into their apartments. But, whether my officiousness
rendered me suspected by them, or that they were naturally rough and
distrustful, no sooner had I laid my hands on the bag, than one of them
called out to me, in a voice which made me tremble from head to foot,
“Out of the way, boy! stand off!” I obeyed without making any answer to
this disagreeable reception, and formed but a bad presage in favour of
the gratification of my appetite; but determined not to be so easily got
rid of. I therefore walked behind them to their room, in a very humble
manner, with my hat in my hand. They had brought good provisions with
them, as is customary in Spain. I saw a roast shoulder of mutton drawn
from their bags, with part of a ham, some bread and wine. This only
increased my extreme desire to serve them. To obtain their favour,
therefore, I advanced towards the table, and took up a glass, intending
to rinse it for their use, but the other merchant, who had not yet
spoken, snatched it from me, saying, in a rougher manner than his
friend, “No, no, leave that glass alone. We have no occasion for your
services.”
“O traitors!” thought I, “enemies to God and man! hearts of flint! I
find that I have exhausted my breath and strength to little purpose in
following you hither.” I resolved, however, not to leave them, in the
hope that they might feel more charitably disposed when their bellies
were full, and throw me a bone to pick, or even a bit of bread, out of
compassion. I was again mistaken; they continued eating without deigning
to cast a look towards me. I devoured their provisions with my eyes all
this time; but this would not satisfy my craving appetite. To complete
my mortification, I saw these monsters put up the remains of their
dinner in their wallet, even to the smallest bit of bread, with which
they left the inn. What barbarity! what a sight for a lad starving with
hunger! I was ready to run distracted with grief and inanition, when a
friar of the order of St. Francis entered the room in which I stood.
I conceived but little hope of relief from this quarter. What assistance
could I expect from a poor monk, who travelled on foot, from a begging
friar, who seemed himself to stand in need of assistance? He perspired
freely, and appeared much fatigued. He brought a wallet with him, which
he placed on the table, and upon which I fixed the most attentive and
eager looks. I could have stolen it even from the altar; it made my
mouth water before I knew its contents. When his reverence took out his
provisions, which consisted of a large loaf of white bread, and a piece
of salt beef, which I should have longed for even at my mother’s table,
I fixed my eyes upon them, and stood in an ecstacy with my mouth wide
open. How did I wish that I had been his little brother! I fancied that
I felt in my own throat every morsel that he swallowed.
He happened to look at me by chance in the course of his meal, and
perceiving what I wanted, for my looks spoke, “Good God!” cried he,
animated by a holy zeal, “approach, my child, I will not allow thee to
languish from want; though I had but this bit of bread, it should be
thine. Here, my son,” added he, giving me half his bread and meat, “take
a little nourishment. I were unworthy to exist did I not share with
thee.”
O Providence! who makest many of thy creatures to subsist even in stone,
thy divine goodness never forsakes us! I implored blessings on the head
of the reverend father, for this act of charity towards me; and began to
shew him that he was not deceived in my half-starved appearance; and
being now pretty well replenished, I returned thanks to Heaven for this
fortunate rencounter. How pleased should I have been had I been doomed
to travel any distance with this friar! My fate would have been
enviable; but, as chance would have it, he was going to Seville, so that
we parted immediately after dinner. Before we separated, he put his hand
into his wallet, and gave me half of another small loaf, saying, that I
should have my full share of all he had. I put up this last half-loaf in
my pocket, and after having eaten the first with the beef, and drunk
some good fresh water, for the good friar had nothing better to offer
me, I set out again in good spirits towards Madrid.
I travelled about three leagues further during the day, and in the
evening reached Campanis, a large village in New Castile, where I
entered an inn, and supped upon the half-loaf I brought with me, having
nothing better to eat. This inn was where the muleteers of Tuxillo
lodged, for whom all the beds were engaged, and who came in towards
night. The landlord allotted me a lodge in the hay-loft, whither I
mounted very contentedly, not being in a situation to make any
difficulties. I stretched myself on the straw, and slept soundly until
day-break, when I rose with a light stomach, which, as you will
recollect, was by no means overloaded the preceding night, and had
already got out of the inn, when the rascally landlord was uncivil
enough to stop me, demanding payment for my night’s lodging, for which
he charged four marvedis. As I had not even one in the world, I
struggled to escape from his grasp; but he held me fast, and perceiving
that my coat was made of good cloth, he was on the point of taking it
off, by way of settling the dispute, had not a muleteer, who was
standing by, taken pity on me. “Leave the lad alone,” said he to the
host, “I will pay for him. I see how the matter stands; this young man
has run away either from his father’s or his master’s house.” At these
words the landlord looked at me, and asked me if I was disposed to serve
him, having occasion for the assistance of a boy like me in his inn.
At any other time such a proposal would have appeared ridiculous to me,
and I should even have been offended at it; but misery relieves one from
such scruples, and reconciles the greatest hardships. After having
considered for a few moments, the prospect of starvation made me accept
his offer. “Enter my house, then,” said he; “there are but two things I
shall require of you: to give out the oats and straw to the passengers,
and to be sure to render me a good and faithful account.” I promised to
acquit myself in this noble post to the utmost of my abilities; after
which I was engaged beyond the power of retracting.
However hard service was to me, who had hitherto been accustomed to be
waited upon myself, I was at first tolerably well contented with my
situation. Very few gentlemen passed that way in the course of the day,
so that, generally, I had nothing to do but to eat and drink until
night, when the muleteers arrived. I soon learnt all the manœuvres of
inns: how to swell the corn to three times its quantity with boiling
water, and how to measure it out afterwards to the best advantage. There
was no occasion to point out to me more than once the peculiar
construction of the mangers, for, after one attempt, I well knew how to
watch my opportunity to deprive the passengers of at least a third part
of the corn they paid for; and even the muleteers did not always escape;
but when by chance any young cavaliers, distinguished by their insignia
and the nice cut of their whiskers, happened to stop at our house
without servants, we were particularly assiduous in our attentions. No
sooner did we perceive them than we ran out to assist them to alight.
These young gentlemen, for the most part, affecting to be persons of
great importance, would not condescend to enter the stable, but were
content to recommend their horses or mules to our care; which
recommendation had so powerful an effect that we never failed to lead
the poor beasts where there was neither hay nor a single grain of corn.
We tied them to the rack, and left them to their meditations.
Occasionally, however, out of pity, we gave them a handful of corn, just
by way of a bon-bouche, before their departure, though of this scanty
pittance the poultry in the yard caught up half, and sometimes even the
jackass got his share of it.
In this manner were all those cavaliers served who relied upon our
honesty; and if we made them pay well for what their beasts had never
eaten, judge in what manner we charged them for their own expences. I
was overjoyed when it fell to my lot to reckon with them: “your bill
amounts to so many reals,” said I, “and so many maravedis,” adding in a
graceful manner: _Y haga les buen provecho_,--“Much good may it do
you:”--a compliment which always procured me something for myself. You
will very easily believe that we always charged this sort of customers
twice as much as they owed, in spite of all the regulations of the
Police, to which my master paid little attention, though they were fixed
up all over his house. He was satisfied with having them in his
possession, and so long as he was able to pay the officers their dues,
he cared but little about observing their ordinances.
The more experienced travellers always paid without hesitation whatever
was demanded, knowing that it was useless to contend; but others who
thought themselves more cunning, would frequently have the landlord
called, that they might reckon with him. On these occasions, our master,
for fear of doing himself wrong, always increased the price of every
article; and when he had once taxed the bill at a certain amount, his
sentence was without appeal, and they were obliged to draw their
purse-strings. Woe to that traveller who presumes to complain of his
treatment, and to threaten an innkeeper in Spain for having cheated him.
As they are almost all of them members of the Holy Brotherhood, he will
be sure to cause him to be arrested at the first village through which
he passes, accusing him either of a design to burn his house to the
ground, of having assaulted him, or of having violated his wife or his
daughter; so that the poor traveller may esteem himself more than
ordinarily happy if he got off by paying double what was before
demanded of him, after having begged pardon of his landlord into the
bargain.
There were several pretty servant-maids in our inn, but it was dangerous
to have any thing to say to them. It was well for those who had their
wits about them when they left the house; for whatever happened by
chance to be forgotten and left behind, was sure never to be heard of
again. What roguery! what infamous trick! what wickedness is constantly
going on at these inns! God is not feared, and Justice is compounded
with. One would think that when a man becomes an innkeeper he is at
liberty to do what he pleases, and has an absolute power over the
property as well as the persons of such as are obliged to stop at his
house.
CHAP. XI.
_Guzman becomes disgusted with his situation, leaves the Inn, and
repairs to Madrid, where he associates with some beggars._
Besides that I was of too flighty a disposition to be long contented in
the same way of life, I could not consider the one that I now led by any
means suitable to a spirited lad who had left his mother’s house, for
the sole purpose of seeing the world. In addition to this, the servant
of an innkeeper ranked lower, in my opinion, than that of a blind
beggar. I saw every day boys of about my own age and size pass our door,
who, after having asked alms, went gaily along the road again. This
sight roused my feelings: “what,” said I to myself, “does the dread of
hunger hold me here, while these young fellows, who have no more
resolution than I ought to be master of, expose themselves courageously
to hunger and thirst? I am in all probability as well deserving as they,
and ought not, therefore, to be less courageous.” These reflections
inspired me with resolution, and, defying fortune, I again set out for
Madrid, after having demanded my dismissal of my master, who gave me
three reals for my services during the time I had been with him.
With this money and the little I had saved from the liberality of our
customers, I was able to advance as far as the celebrated bridge of
Arcolis upon Zagus, whence I pursued my route as the others had done, by
holding out my hand in every village through which I passed, and to
every gentleman I met; but the harvest had been so extremely bad that
year, that people in general were but little disposed to be charitable.
I was therefore soon obliged to sell my clothes; so that I cut a most
elegant figure when I reached that celebrated capital of Spain. I was
reduced to a tattered pair of breeches, with a shirt black and torn, a
pair of stockings with a thousand holes in them, and shoes which had no
other soles than those of my feet. I looked more like a fellow just
escaped from the galleys, than a gentleman’s son of good family; and
could not possibly hope to be employed in any gentleman’s service, which
was now the height of my ambition. My miserable appearance was not
calculated to prepossess any one in my favour, and he must have been a
bold man indeed who could have made up his mind to admit me into his
house. No one could look at me attentively without saying in his own
mind, there is a young chap who only wants the opportunity to perform
some desperate trick. At length, finding that my appearance was such,
that no one would receive me either as page, footman, or even as a
turnspit, I turned my eyes towards a company of beggars whom I perceived
at a church door. I considered them with attention, and they seemed so
healthy and void of care, that I thought I could not do better than
enrol myself in their company. I joined them accordingly, and was
received by them as a member whose mien and equipage were not unworthy
of their fraternity.
Before I reached Madrid I had taken good care to leave all my modesty on
the road, as a load too heavy for a foot passenger to carry about with
him. If I had not ere this got rid of this cruel enemy to hunger, I
should soon have lost every spark of it in the company of these good
folks, who were severally and collectively the most complete birds of
prey. I followed them every where, acting as a sort of assistant to
them, until I should become sufficiently experienced to contribute my
share towards making the pot boil, in which there never failed to be
plenty. Twice a day we had a fine dish of soup, of which I was sure to
partake, provided I attended punctually to the hours of dinner and
supper, otherwise being only an underling, I should have found nothing
but the empty turine for my share.
After supper we generally sat down to play; I soon learned the games of
Quince, one and thirty, quinola and primera, with a thousand tricks on
the cards. I had so happy a knack, and my disposition was so well suited
to this science, that I made visible progress under these excellent
masters. Little as I was, I felt desirous to imitate some of my
companions, who, lest they should be punished as vagrants, posted
themselves with baskets in the different markets, offering the citizens
to carry home for them the provisions they might purchase. This
employment appeared rather laborious to me at first, but I soon got so
well accustomed to it, that I thought no man’s lot preferable to my own.
“How charming,” thought I, “to live thus in plenty, without being
obliged to use either needle or thread, the hammer or the thimble;
nothing but a basket and a little industry being necessary for
subsistence! The life of a beggar is a delicacy without bone, an
uninterrupted stream of pleasure, an employment exempt from trouble and
vexation. How void of sense must my ancestors have been to have taken so
much pains to live in wretchedness! In how many perplexities have they
been involved for the sake of supporting their commerce and reputation!
O absurd honour of this world, thou art but a millstone to sink such
fools as consent to be burdened with thee!”
One day as I was carrying home a quarter of mutton in my basket for an
honest shoemaker who walked before me, I picked up a paper which I
perceived lying in the street, containing some verses of an old ballad,
which I began to read and sing to myself. The shoe-maker, surprised to
hear me, said with a smile: “what, you ill-looking little dog, can you
read?” “And write too,” answered I. “Is it possible?” cried he, much
astonished. “If you will teach me merely to sign my name, I will pay you
well for your trouble.” I asked of what possible use the knowing how to
sign his name only could be to him, and he told me that having obtained
a good situation through the influence of a certain person, whom he
named, whose family he had supplied with shoes gratis, he should be glad
to be able to sign his name when necessary, that he might not be obliged
to confess that he could not write.
As soon as we entered his house he caused pen, ink, and paper to be
brought, and I commenced my occupation of writing-master, showing my
scholar how to hold his pen, and guiding his hand. I then made him form
the letters that composed his name so many times over, that he fancied
he had already acquired the elements of the art of writing. After having
scribbled over and blotted five or six sheets of paper, he was so well
satisfied, that he made me try on a pair of new shoes, which fitted as
if they had been made for me, and which he presented me with: I then
took leave of him, assuring him, that whenever I wanted a new pair of
shoes, I would call and give some further lessons to make him quite
perfect in his writing.
CHAP. XII.
_Guzman is engaged by a Cook._