this time you shall have everything necessary for the execution of your
laudable purpose. Meanwhile, take care not to eat such things as are apt
to make phlegm, for they do the voice no good, but a deal of harm."
"Nothing makes me so hoarse so much as wine, but I would not give it up
for all the voices above ground."
"Don't think I would have you do so; God forbid! Drink, Luis my boy,
drink; and much good may it do you, for wine drunk in measure never did
any one harm."
"I always drink in measure. I have a jug here that holds exactly three
pints and a half. The girls fill this for me unknown to my master, and
the purveyor brings me on the sly a bottle holding a good gallon, which
makes up for the deficiency of the jug."
"That's the way to live, my boy, for a dry throat can neither grunt nor
sing."
"Well, go your ways now, and God be with you; but don't forget to come
and sing here every night until such time as you bring the tools for
getting you within doors. My fingers itch to be at the guitar."
"I'll come, never fear, and I'll bring some new tunes too."
"Ay, do; but before you go away now, sing me something that I may go to
sleep pleasantly; and for the matter of payment, be it known to the
_señor pobre_ that I will be more liberal than many a rich man."
"Oh, I ain't uneasy on that score. If you think I teach you well, I will
leave it to yourself to pay me accordingly. And now I'll just sing you
one song, but when I am inside you will see wonders."
Here ended this long dialogue, and Loaysa sang a sprightly ditty with
such good effect, that the negro was in ecstacies, and felt as if the
time for opening the door would never arrive.
Having finished his song, Loaysa took his departure, and set off at a
rounder pace than might have been expected of a man on crutches, to
report to his friends what a good beginning he had made. He told them
what he had concerted with the negro, and the following day they
procured tools of the right sort, fit to break any fastening as if it
was made of straw. The virote failed not to serenade the negro, nor the
latter to scrape at the gate-post till he had made a sufficiently wide
hole, which he plastered up so well, that no one could perceive it
unless he searched for it on purpose. On the second night Loaysa passed
in the tools, Luis went to work with them, whipped off the staple in a
trice, opened the door, and let in his Orpheus. Great was his surprise
to see him on his two crutches, with such a distorted leg, and in such a
tattered plight. Loaysa did not wear the patch over his eye, for it was
not necessary, and as soon as he entered he embraced his pupil, kissed
him on the cheek, and immediately put into his hand a big jar of wine, a
box of preserves, and other sweet things, with which his wallet was well
stored. Then throwing aside his crutches, he began to cut capers, as if
nothing ailed him, to the still greater amazement of the negro.
"You must know, brother Luis," said Loaysa, "that my lameness does not
come of natural infirmity, but from my own ingenious contrivance,
whereby I get my bread, asking alms for the love of God. In this way,
and with the help of my music, I lead the merriest life in the world,
where others, with less cleverness and good management, would be starved
to death. Of this you will be convinced in the course of our
friendship."
"We shall see," said the negro; "but now let us put this staple back in
its place, so that it may not appear that it has been moved."
"Very good," said Loaysa, and taking out some nails from his wallet, he
soon made the lock seem as secure as ever, to the great satisfaction of
the negro, who, taking him at once to his loft, made him as comfortable
there as he could. Luis lighted a lamp; Loaysa took up his guitar, and
began to strike the chords softly and sweetly, so that the poor negro
was transported with delight. After he had played awhile, he drew forth
a fresh supply of good things for a collation, which they partook of
together, and the pupil applied himself so earnestly to the bottle that
it took away his senses still more than the music had done. Supper over,
Loaysa proposed that Luis should take his first lesson at once; and
though the poor negro was too much fuddled to distinguish one string
from another, Loaysa made him believe that he had already learnt at
least two notes. So persuaded was the poor fellow of this, that he did
nothing all night but jangle and strum away. They had but a short sleep
that night. In the morning, just on the strike of six, Carrizales came
down, opened both entrance doors, and stood waiting for the purveyor,
who came soon afterwards; and after depositing the day's supplies in the
turning-box, called the negro down to receive his ration and oats for
the mule. After the purveyor was gone, old Carrizales went out, locking
both doors after him, without having seen what had been done to the lock
of one of them, whereat both master and pupil rejoiced not a little.
No sooner was the master of the house gone, than the negro laid hold on
the guitar, and began to scrape it in such a manner, that all the
servant maids came to the second door, and asked him, through the
turning-box, "What is this, Luis? How long have you had a guitar? Who
gave it you?"
"Who gave it me? The best musician in the world, and one who is to teach
me in six days more than six thousand tunes!"
"Where is he, this musician?" said the dueña.
"He is not far off," replied the negro; "and if it were not for fear of
my master, perhaps I would tell you where at once, and I warrant you
would be glad to see him."
"But where can he be for us to see him," returned the dueña, "since no
one but our master ever enters this house?"
"I will not tell you any more about the matter till you have heard what
I can do, and how much he has taught me in this short time."
"By my troth, unless he is a demon who has taught you, I don't know how
you can have become a musician all at once."
"Stop a bit and you shall hear him, and mayhap you will see him too some
day."
"That can't be," said another of the women, "for there are no windows on
the street through which we could hear or see anybody."
"Never mind" said the negro; "there's a remedy for everything but
death. If you only could or would keep silence--"
"Keep silence! Ay that we will, brother Luis, as if we were born dumb. I
give you my word, friend, I am dying to hear a good voice, for ever
since we have been shut up here we have not even heard the birds sing."
Loaysa listened with great inward glee to this conversation, which
showed how readily the women were taking the very bent he would have
given them. The negro was afraid lest his master should return and catch
him talking with them; but they would not go away until he had promised
that, when they least expected it, he would call them to hear a capital
voice. He then retreated to his loft, where he would gladly have resumed
his lessons, but durst not do so by day for fear of detection. His
master returned soon after and went into the house, locking both doors
behind him as usual. When Luis went that day to the turning-box for his
victuals, he told the negress, who brought them, to let her
fellow-servants know that when their master was asleep that night, they
should all of them come down to the turning-box, when he would be sure
to give them the treat he had promised. He was enabled to say so much,
having previously entreated his music-master to condescend to sing and
play that night before the inner door for the amusement of the women.
The maestro suffered himself to be pressed very hard to do the thing he
most desired, but after much seeming reluctance he at last yielded to
the solicitations of his esteemed pupil, and said he would be happy to
oblige him. The negro embraced him cordially, in testimony of his
grateful sense of the promised favour, and treated him that day to as
good cheer as he could possibly have had at home, or perhaps better.
Towards midnight Luis knew, by the signals cautiously given at the
turning-box, that the women were all there; whereupon he and Loaysa went
down from the loft with the guitar, complete in all its strings and well
tuned. The maestro asked how many were there to hear him, and was told
that all the women in the house were there, except their lady, who was
in bed with her husband. This was not what Loaysa wished for,
nevertheless, by way of making a beginning and obliging his pupil, he
touched the guitar softly, and drew from it such tones as ravished the
ears of his audience. But who could describe the delight of the women
when he sang _Pesame de ello_, and followed it up with the magic strains
of the saraband, then new in Spain? There was not one of them that did
not keep time to the music as if she were dancing like mad, but all
noiselessly and with extreme caution, keeping scouts on the watch to
warn them if the old man awoke. Loaysa finally played them several
seguidillas, and so put the climax to his success, that they all eagerly
begged the negro to tell them who was this marvellous musician. Luis
replied that he was a poor beggar, but the most gallant and genteel man
in all the back slums of Seville. They conjured the negro to contrive
some means that they might see him, and not to let him quit the house
for a fortnight, for they would take care to supply him with the best of
good cheer, and plenty of it. They were curious to know how Luis had
managed to get him into the house; but to this the negro made no reply.
For the rest he told them that if they wanted to see the maestro, they
might bore a small hole in the turning-box and afterwards stop it up
with wax; and that as for keeping him in the house, he would do his
best.
Loaysa then addressed them, and offered them his services in such
obliging and polite terms, that they were sure such fine language never
came out of the head of a poor beggar. They entreated he would come the
next night, and they would prevail on their lady to come down and hear
him, in spite of the light sleep of her lord and master--the result not
so much of his age as of his extreme jealousy. Loaysa replied that if
they wished to hear him without fear of being surprised by the old man,
he would give them a powder to put in his wine, which would make him
sleep more soundly. "Good heaven!" cried one of the damsels, "if that
were true, what a blessing would have come home to us without our
knowing or deserving it! It would not be a sleeping powder for him so
much as it would be a powder of life for all of us, and for my poor dear
lady, Leonora his wife, to whom he sticks as close as her shadow, never
losing sight of her for a moment. Ah, señor of my soul! bring that
powder, and may God reward you with all the good you can desire. Go!
don't lose a moment--bring it, señor mio; I will take it upon me to put
it in his wine and to be his cupbearer. Oh, that it might please God
that the old man should sleep three days and nights! Three glorious days
and nights they would be for us."
"Well, I'll bring it then," said Loaysa. "It is of such a nature that it
does no harm to the person who takes it; the only effect of it being to
cause a most profound sleep."
They all entreated him to bring it without delay, and then they took
their leave of him, after agreeing that on the following night they
would make a hole in the turning-box with a gimlet, and that they would
try and persuade their mistress to come down. By this time it was nearly
daylight, yet the negro wished to take a lesson. Loaysa complied with
his desire, and assured him that among all the pupils he had ever
taught, he had not known one with a finer ear; and yet the poor negro
could never, to the end of his days, have learned the gamut.
Loaysa's friends took care to come at night to Carrizales' door to see
if their friend had any instructions to give them, or wanted anything.
On the second night, when they had made him aware of their presence by a
preconcerted signal, he gave them, through the key-hole, a brief account
of the prosperous beginning he had made, and begged they would try and
get him something to be given to Carrizales to make him sleep. He had
heard, he said, that there were powders which produced that effect. They
told him they had a friend, a physician, who would give them the best
drug for that purpose if he happened to have it; and after encouraging
him to persist in the enterprise, and promising to return on the
following night, they left him.
Presently the whole flock of doves came to the lure of the guitar, and
among them was the simple Leonora, trembling for fear her husband should
awake. So great was her dread of his discovering her absence, that her
women had great difficulty in persuading her to make the hazardous
venture. But they all, especially the dueña, told her such wonderful
things of the sweetness of the music, and the engaging manners of the
poor musician, whom, without having seen him, they extolled above
Absalom and Orpheus, that they persuaded her to do what she would never
have done of her own accord. Their first act was to bore a hole in the
turning-box through which they might peep at the musician, who was no
longer clad in rags, but in wide breeches of buff silk, cut sailor
fashion, a jacket of the same material, a satin cap to match, and a
starched double-pointed ruff, all which he had brought in his wallet,
expecting that he would have to show himself on an occasion which would
require him to change his costume. Loaysa was young, good-looking, and
of pleasing deportment; and as the eyes of all the women had been so
long accustomed only to the sight of old Carrizales, they fancied as
they looked at Loaysa that they beheld an angel.
Each of them took her turn at the peephole, and that they might see him
the better, the negro stood by him with a lighted flambeau, which he
moved up and down before the maestro's body. After all the women, from
the lady of the house down to the two negresses, had thus gratified
their eyes, Loaysa took his guitar, and played and sang more
bewitchingly than ever. Leonora's women were bewildered with delight,
and all besought Luis to contrive so that the señor maestro should come
in through the inner door, so that they might hear and see him better,
instead of squinting at him through a gimlet-hole, and without the risk
they ran of being caught in the fact by their master, which would not be
so great if they had the musician concealed inside. Their lady
strenuously opposed this proposition, declaring she would not permit any
such thing. She was shocked to hear them mention it, for they could hear
and see him well enough as it was, without danger to their honour.
"Honour," exclaimed the dueña; "the king has plenty. Your ladyship may
shut yourself up with your Methusalem, if you have a mind, but leave us
to amuse ourselves as well as we can; the more so since this señor
appears to be too much the gentleman to ask anything of us but what
would be pleasing to ourselves."
"Never!" interposed Loaysa. "I came hither, ladies, with no other
intention than to offer you my humble services, with all my heart and
soul, moved by commiseration for the unparalleled rigour of your
confinement, and for the precious moments that are lost to you through
this recluse way of life. By the life of my father, I am a man so
artless, so meek, so tractable and obedient, that I will never do more
than I am bidden. If any one of you should please to say, 'Maestro, sit
down here; Maestro, step this way, step that way, go yonder,' I will do
just as you bid me, like the tamest and best trained dog that jumps for
the king of France."
"Well, if that be so," said the inexperienced Leonora, "what is to be
done, so that the señor maestro may come in?"
"Nothing can be easier," said Loaysa. "So please you, ladies, just take
the trouble to make an impression on wax with the key of this door; and
I will take care that by to-morrow night another shall be made exactly
like it, which will answer our purpose."
"With that key," one of the women remarked, "we shall have those of the
whole house, for it is a master-key."
"So much the better," said Loaysa.
"That is true," said Leonora; "but this señor must first of all swear,
that when he is inside here he will not attempt to do anything but sing
and play when he is asked, and that he will keep close and quiet
wherever we may put him."
"I swear to this," said Loaysa.
"That oath is good for nothing," replied Leonora: "the señor must swear
by the life of his father, and by the cross, which he must kiss in sight
of us all."
"I swear by the life of my father," said Loaysa, "and by this sign of
the cross, which I kiss with my unworthy mouth;" and crossing two of his
fingers, he kissed them three times.
"That will do," said one of the women; "and now, señor, be sure you
don't forget the powder, for that is the main thing of all."
Here the conversation ended for that night, and all parties retired
highly satisfied with the interview. Good luck had evidently declared in
favour of Loaysa; and just then, about two o'clock in the morning, it
brought his friends to the door. On their giving the usual signal by
blowing a French horn, he went to the door, told them what progress he
had made, and asked had they brought the powder or other drug to put
Carrizales to sleep. At the same time, he spoke to them respecting the
master-key. They told him that on the following night they would bring
the powder, or else an ointment of such virtue that one had only to rub
the patient's wrists and temples with it to throw him into such a
profound sleep, that he would not wake for two days, unless the
anointed parts were well washed with vinegar. As to the key, he had
only to give them the impression in wax, and they would have a false one
made forthwith. Having said this, the friends retired, and Loaysa and
his pupil went to rest for the short remainder of the night. The next
day hung heavily on hand, as always happens to those who are filled with
eager expectation; but the longest day must have an end, and Loaysa's
impatient desire was at last gratified.
The appointed hour having arrived, all the domestics, great and small,
black and white, repaired to the turning-box, longing to see the señor
musico fairly within their seraglio; but no Leonora was there. When
Loaysa inquired for her, they said she was in bed with her good man, who
had locked the bed-room door, and put the key under his pillow; and that
their lady had told them, that when the old man had fallen asleep she
would take the key, and they were to go to her by and by for the wax
impression she would take from it, and pass to them through a trap-hole
in the door. Loaysa was astonished at the old man's extreme wariness, in
spite of which he by no means despaired of baffling his precautions.
Just then the French horn was heard: Loaysa hastened to the door, and
received from his friends a pot containing the promised ointment.
Bidding them wait awhile, and he would bring them the mould of the key,
he went back to the turning-box, and told the dueña, who seemed the most
eager of all the women for his admission, to give the ointment to her
lady, bid her anoint her husband with it so cautiously that he should
not be aware of what she was doing, and she would soon see wonders. The
dueña took the pot, stole up to her mistress's door, and found her
waiting on the inside, stretched full length on the floor, with her face
to the trap-hole. The dueña laid herself down in the same manner, and
putting her mouth to her mistress's ear, whispered that she had brought
the ointment, telling her at the same time how to apply it. Leonora took
the ointment, but told the dueña that she could by no means get the key,
for her husband had not put it under the pillow as usual, but between
the mattresses, just under where he lay. However, she was to tell the
maestro, that if the ointment operated as he said, she could easily get
the key as often as she pleased, and so there would be no need of
copying it in wax. Having delivered this message at once, the dueña was
to come back, and see how the ointment worked, for she intended to apply
it forthwith. The dueña having reported all this to Loaysa, he sent away
his friends who were waiting without for the mould of the key.
Trembling in every limb, and scarcely daring to breathe, Leonora began
to rub the wrists of her jealous husband. Next she smeared his nostrils;
but as she did so, the old man jerked his head, and Leonora was
petrified with terror, believing that he was awake, and had caught her
in the fact. It was a false alarm, however, and she went on with her
task the best way she could, till she had completed it according to her
instructions. It was not long before its effects manifested themselves;
for presently the old man began to snore loud enough to be heard in the
street. This was music more delightful to Leonora's ears than the
maestro's voice or guitar; but still hardly trusting what she saw, she
ventured to shake him, a very little at first, to see if he would wake;
and then a wee bit more and more, till finding that he still snored on,
she made bold to turn him over from one side to the other, without his
showing any signs of waking. Seeing this, she stepped joyfully to the
door; and in a voice not so low as before, called out to the dueña, who
was waiting with her ear to the trap-hole. "Good news, sister;
Carrizales is sleeping more soundly than the dead."
"What stops you then from taking the key, señora?" said the dueña. "The
musico has been waiting for it this hour and more."
"Stay a moment, sister; I am going for it," said Leonora; and stepping
back to the bed, she put her hand between the mattresses, and drew out
the key without the old man's perceiving it. No sooner was the key in
her hands, than dancing with delight she unlocked the door, and gave it
to the exulting dueña, bidding her let in the maestro, and bring him
into the gallery; but as for herself, she durst not stir from that spot,
for fear of what might happen. But before all things she insisted that
the maestro should ratify anew the oath he had taken not to do more than
they should order him; and if he would not give this renewed pledge, he
was not to be let in on any consideration.
"Never fear," said the dueña; "not a bit shall he come in until he has
sworn, and sworn again, and kissed the cross at least six times."
"Don't bind him to any fixed number," said Leonora; "but let him kiss
the cross as many times as he pleases; but be sure that he swears by the
life of his father, and by all he holds dear; for then we shall be safe
and sure, and we may take our fill of hearing him sing and play; and
exquisitely he does so, upon my word. There now, get you gone without
more delay, and let us not waste the night in words."
The good dueña caught up her petticoats, and ran with all her speed to
the turning-box, where the whole party was impatiently awaiting her; and
no sooner had she shown them the key in her hand, than they hoisted her
upon their shoulders, and paraded up and down with her, crying "Viva!
viva!" But still greater was their joy when she told them there was no
need to have a false key made; for so soundly did the old man sleep
after being anointed, that they might have the house-key as often as
they required it.
"Quick then, good friend," said one of the troop, "open the door, and
let in this gentleman who has been waiting so long, and let us have a
jolly bout of music, for that is all we have now to do."
"Nay, but there is more to be done," replied the dueña; "for we must
exact another oath of him; the same as last night."
"He is so good," said one of the slave girls, "that he won't grudge
taking as many oaths as we like."