be some time yet till dawn."
While they were talking, some one knocked at the door, and called out,
"Young men, if you want to hear some fine music, go to the window of the
next room, which looks on the street; it is not occupied."
They got up and opened the door, but the person who had spoken was gone.
The music still continuing, however, they went in their shirts, just as
they were, into the front room, where they found three or four other
lodgers, who made place for them at the window; and soon afterwards an
excellent voice sang a sonnet to the accompaniment of the harp. There
was no need of any one to tell Carriazo and Avendaño that this music was
intended for Costanza, for this was very clear from the words of the
sonnet, which grated so horribly on Avendaño's ears, that he could have
wished himself deaf rather than have heard it. The pangs of jealousy
laid hold on him, and the worst of all was, that he knew not who was his
rival. But this was soon made known to him when one of the persons at
the window exclaimed, "What a simpleton is the corregidor's son, to make
a practice of serenading a scullery-maid. It is true, she is one of the
most beautiful girls I have ever seen, and I have seen a great many; but
that is no reason why he should court her so publicly."
"After all," said another, "I have been told for certain that she makes
no more account of him than if he never existed. I warrant she is this
moment fast asleep behind her mistress's bed, without ever thinking of
all this music."
"I can well believe it," said the first speaker, "for she is the most
virtuous girl I know; and it is marvellous that though she lives in a
house like this, where there is so much traffic, and where there are new
comers every day, and though she goes about all the rooms, not the least
thing in the world is known to her disparagement."
Avendaño began to breathe more freely after hearing this, and was able
to listen to many fine things which were sung to the accompaniment of
various instruments, all being addressed to Costanza, who, as the
stranger said, was fast asleep all the while.
The musicians departed at the approach of dawn. Avendaño and Carriazo
returned to their room, where one of them slept till morning. They then
rose, both of them eager to see Costanza, but the one only from
curiosity, the other from love. Both were gratified; for Costanza came
out of her master's room looking so lovely, that they both felt that all
the praises bestowed on her by the muleteer, fell immeasurably short of
her deserts. She was dressed in a green bodice and petticoat, trimmed
with the same colour. A collar embroidered with black silk set off the
alabaster whiteness of her neck. The thick tresses of her bright
chestnut hair were bound up with white ribbon; she had pendents in her
ears which seemed to be pearls, but were only glass; her girdle was a
St. Francis cord, and a large bunch of keys hung at her side. When she
came out of the room she crossed herself, and made a profound reverence
with great devotion to an image of our Lady, that hung on one of the
walls of the quadrangle. Then looking up and seeing the two young men
intently gazing on her, she immediately retired again into the room, and
called thence to Argüello to get up.
Carriazo, it must be owned, was much struck by Costanza's beauty; he
admired it as much as his companion, only he did not fall in love with
her; on the contrary, he had no desire to spend another night in the
inn, but to set out at once for the fisheries.
La Argüello presently appeared in the gallery with two young women,
natives of Gallicia, who were also servants in the inn; for the number
employed in the Sevillano was considerable, that being one of the best
and most frequented houses of its kind in Toledo. At the same time the
servants of the persons lodging in the inn began to assemble to receive
oats for their masters' beasts; and the host dealt them out, all the
while grumbling and swearing at his maid-servants who had been the cause
of his losing the services of a capital hostler, who did the work so
well and kept such good reckoning, that he did not think he had ever
lost the price of a grain of oats by him. Avendaño, who heard all this,
seized the opportunity at once. "Don't fatigue yourself, señor host," he
said; "give me the account-book, and whilst I remain here I will give
out the oats, and keep such an exact account of it that you will not
miss the hostler who you say has left you."
"Truly I thank you for the offer, my lad," said the host, "for I have no
time to attend to this business; I have too much to do, both indoors
and out of doors. Come down and I will give you the book; and mind ye,
these muleteers are the very devil, and will do you out of a peck of
oats under your very nose, with no more conscience than if it was so
much chaff."
Avendaño went down to the quadrangle, took the book, and began to serve
out pecks of oats like water, and to note them down with such exactness
that the landlord, who stood watching him, was greatly pleased with his
performance. "I wish to God," he said, "your master would not come, and
that you would make up your mind to stop with me; you would lose nothing
by the change, believe me. The hostler who has just quitted me came here
eight months ago all in tatters, and as lean as a shotten herring, and
now he has two very good suits of clothes, and is as fat as a dormouse;
for you must know, my son, that in this house there are excellent vails
to be got over and above the wages."
"If I should stop," replied Avendaño, "I should not stand out much for
the matter of what I should gain, but should be content with very little
for sake of being in this city, which, they tell me, is the best in
Spain."
"At least it is one of the best and most plentiful," said the host. "But
we are in want of another thing, too, and that is a man to fetch water,
for the lad that used to attend to that job has also left me. He was a
smart fellow, and with the help of a famous ass of mine he used to keep
all the tanks overflowing, and make a lake of the house. One of the
reasons why the muleteers like to bring their employers to my house is,
that they always find plenty of water in it for their beasts, instead of
having to drive them down to the river."
Carriazo, who had been listening to this dialogue, and who saw Avendaño
already installed in office, thought he would follow his example, well
knowing how much it would gratify him. "Out with the ass, señor host,"
he said; "I'm your man, and will do your work as much to your
satisfaction as my comrade."
"Aye, indeed," said Avendaño, "my comrade, Lope Asturiano will fetch
water like a prince, I'll go bail for him."
La Argüello, who had been all the while within earshot, here put in her
word. "And pray, my gentleman," said she to Avendaño, "who is to go bail
for you? By my faith, you look to me as if you wanted some one to
answer for you instead of your answering for another."
"Hold your tongue, Argüello," said her master; "don't put yourself
forward where you're not wanted. I'll go bail for them, both of them.
And mind, I tell you, that none of you women meddle or make with the
men-servants, for it is through you they all leave me."
"So these two chaps are engaged, are they?" said another of the
servant-women; "by my soul, if I had to keep them company I would never
trust them with the wine-bag."
"None of your gibes, señora Gallega," cried her master; "do your work,
and don't meddle with the men-servants, or I'll baste you with a stick."
"Oh, to be sure!" replied the Gallician damsel; "a'nt they dainty dears
to make a body's mouth water? I'm sure master has never known me so
frolicksome with the chaps in the house, nor yet out of it, that he
should have such an opinion of me. The blackguards go away when they
take it into their heads, without our giving them any occasion. Very
like indeed they're the right sort to be in need of any one's putting
them to bidding their masters an early good morning, when they least
expect it."
"You've a deal to say for yourself, my friend," said the landlord; "shut
your mouth and mind your business."
While this colloquy was going on Carriazo had harnessed the ass, jumped
on his back, and set off to the river, leaving Avendaño highly delighted
at witnessing his jovial resolution.
Here then, we have Avendaño and Carriazo changed, God save the mark!
into Tomas Pedro, a hostler, and Lope Asturiano, a water-carrier:
transformations surpassing those of the long-nosed poet. No sooner had
la Argüello heard that they were hired, than she formed a design upon
Asturiano, and marked him for her own, resolving to regale him in such a
manner, that, if he was ever so shy, she would make him as pliant as a
glove. The prudish Gallegan formed a similar design upon Avendaño, and,
as the two women were great friends, being much together in their
business by day, and bed-fellows at night, they at once confided their
amorous purposes to each other; and that night they determined to begin
the conquest of their two unimpassioned swains. Moreover they agreed
that they must, in the first place, beg them not to be jealous about
anything they might see them do with their persons; for girls could
hardly regale their friends within doors, unless they put those without
under contribution. "Hold your tongues, lads," said they, apostrophising
their absent lovers, "hold your tongues and shut your eyes; leave the
timbrel in the hands that can play it, and let those lead the dance that
know how, and no pair of canons in this city will be better regaled than
you will be by our two selves."
While the Gallegan and la Argüello were settling matters in this way,
our good friend, Lope Asturiano, was on his way to the river, musing
upon his beloved tunny fisheries and on his sudden change of condition.
Whether it was for this reason, or that fate ordained it so, it happened
that as he was riding down a steep and narrow lane, he ran against
another water-carrier's ass, which was coming, laden, up-hill; and, as
his own was fresh and lively and in good condition, the poor,
half-starved, jaded brute that was toiling up hill, was knocked down,
the pitchers were broken, and the water spilled. The driver of the
fallen ass, enraged by this disaster, immediately flew upon the
offender, and pommelled him soundly before poor Lope well knew where he
was. At last, his senses were roused with a vengeance, and seizing his
antagonist with both hands by the throat, he dashed him to the ground.
That was not all, for, unluckily, the man's head struck violently
against a stone; the wound was frightful, and bled so profusely, that
Lope thought he had killed him. Several other water-carriers who were on
their way to and from the river, seeing their comrade so maltreated,
seized Lope and held him fast, shouting, "Justice! justice! this
water-carrier has murdered a man." And all the while they beat and
thumped him lustily. Others ran to the fallen man, and found that his
skull was cracked, and that he was almost at the last gasp. The outcry
spread all up the hill, and to the Plaza del Carmen, where it reached
the ears of an alguazil, who flew to the spot with two police-runners.
They did not arrive a moment too soon, for they found Lope surrounded by
more than a score of water-carriers, who were basting his ribs at such a
rate that there was almost as much reason to fear for his life as that
of the wounded man. The alguazil took him out of their hands, delivered
him and his ass into those of his followers, had the wounded man laid
like a sack upon his own ass, and marched them all off to prison
attended by such a crowd that they could hardly make way through the
streets. The noise drew Tomas Pedro and his master to the door, and, to
their great surprise, they saw Asturiano led by in the gripe of two
police-runners, with his face all bloody. The landlord immediately
looked about for his ass, and saw it in the hands of another catchpoll,
who had joined the alguazil's party. He inquired the cause of these
captures, was told what had happened, and was sorely distressed on
account of his ass, fearing that he should lose it, or have to pay more
for it than it was worth.
Tomas followed his comrade, but could not speak a single word to him,
such was the throng round the prisoner, and the strictness of the
catchpolls. Lope was thrust into a narrow cell in the prison, with a
doubly grated window, and the wounded man was taken to the infirmary,
where the surgeon pronounced his case extremely dangerous.
The alguazil took home the two asses with him, besides five pieces of
eight which had been found on Lope. Tomas returned greatly disconcerted
to the inn, where he found the landlord in no better spirits than
himself, and gave him an account of the condition in which he had left
his comrade, the danger of the wounded man, and the fate of the ass. "To
add to the misfortune," said he, "I have just met a gentleman of Burgos,
who tells me that my master will not now come this way. In order to make
more speed and shorten his journey by two leagues, he has crossed the
ferry at Aceca; he will sleep to-night at Orgaz, and has sent me twelve
crowns, with orders to meet him at Seville. But that cannot be, for it
is not in reason that I should leave my friend and comrade in prison and
in such peril. My master must excuse me for the present, and I know he
will, for he is so good-natured that he will put up with a little
inconvenience rather than that I should forsake my comrade. Will you do
me the favour, señor, to take this money, and see what you can do in
this business. While you are spending this, I will write to my master
for more, telling him all that has happened, and I am sure he will send
us enough to get us out of any scrape."
The host opened his eyes a palm wide in glad surprise to find himself
indemnified for the loss of his ass. He took the money and comforted
Tomas, telling him that he could make interest with persons of great
influence in Toledo, especially a nun, a relation of the corregidor's,
who could do anything she pleased with him. Now the washerwoman of the
convent in which the nun lived had a daughter, who was very thick indeed
with the sister of a friar, who was hand and glove with the said nun's
confessor. All he had to do, then, was to get the washerwoman to ask her
daughter to get the monk's sister to speak to her brother to say a good
word to the confessor, who would prevail on the nun to write a note to
the corregidor begging him to look into Lope's business, and then,
beyond a doubt, they might expect to come off with flying colours; that
is provided the water-carrier did not die of his wound, and provided
also there was no lack of stuff to grease the palms of all the officers
of justice, for unless they are well greased they creak worse than the
wheels of a bullock cart.
Whatever Tomas thought of this roundabout way of making interest, he
failed not to thank the innkeeper, and to assure him that he was
confident his master would readily send the requisite money.
Argüello, who had seen her new flame in the hands of the officers, ran
directly to the prison with some dinner for him; but she was not
permitted to see him. This was a great grief to her, but she did not
lose her hopes for all that. After the lapse of a fortnight the wounded
man was out of danger, and in a week more, the surgeon pronounced him
cured. During this time, Tomas Pedro pretended to have had fifty crowns
sent to him from Seville, and taking them out of his pocket, he
presented them to the innkeeper, along with a fictitious letter from his
master. It was nothing to the landlord whether the letter was genuine or
not, so he gave himself no trouble to authenticate it; but he received
the fifty good gold crowns with great glee. The end of the matter was,
that the wounded man was quieted with six ducats, and Asturiano was
sentenced to the forfeiture of his ass, and a fine of ten ducats with
costs, on the payment of which he was liberated.
On his release from prison, Asturiano had no mind to go back to the
Sevillano, but excused himself to his comrade on the ground that during
his confinement he had been visited by Argüello, who had pestered him
with her fulsome advances, which were to him so sickening and
insufferable, that he would rather be hanged than comply with the
desires of so odious a jade. His intention was to buy an ass, and to do
business as a water carrier on his own account as long as they remained
in Toledo. This would protect him from the risk of being arrested as a
vagabond; besides, it was a business he could carry on with great ease
and satisfaction to himself, since with only one load of water, he could
saunter about the city all day long, looking at silly wenches.
"Looking at beautiful women, you mean," said his friend, "for of all the
cities in Spain, Toledo has the reputation of being that in which the
women surpass all others, whether in beauty or conduct. If you doubt it,
only look at Costanza, who could spare from her superfluity of
loveliness charms enough to beautify the rest of the women, not only of
Toledo, but of the whole world."
"Gently, señor Tomas; not so fast with your praises of the señora
scullion, unless you wish that, besides thinking you a fool, I take you
for a heretic into the bargain."
"Do you call Costanza a scullion, brother Lope? God forgive you, and
bring you to a true sense of your error."
"And is not she a scullion?"
"I have yet to see her wash the first plate."
"What does that matter, if you have seen her wash the second, or the
fiftieth?"
"I tell you brother she does not wash dishes, or do anything but look
after the business of the house, and take care of the plate, of which
there is a great deal."
"How is it, then, that throughout the whole city they call her the
illustrious scullery-maid, if so be she does not wash dishes? Perhaps it
is because she washes silver and not crockery that they give her that
name. But to drop this subject, tell me, Tomas, how stand your hopes?"
"In a state of perdition; for during the whole time you were in gaol, I
never have been able to say one word to her. It is true, that to all
that is said to her by the guests in the house, she makes no other reply
than to cast down her eyes and keep her lips closed; such is her virtue
and modesty; so that her modesty excites my love, no less than her
beauty. But it is almost too much for my patience, to think that the
corregidor's son, who is an impetuous and somewhat licentious youth, is
dying for her; a night seldom passes but he serenades her, and that so
openly, that she is actually named in the songs sung in her praise. She
never hears them to be sure, nor ever quits her mistress's room from the
time she retires until morning; but in spite of all that, my heart
cannot escape being pierced by the keen shaft of jealousy."
"What do you intend to do, then, with this Portia, this Minerva, this
new Penelope, who, under the form of a scullery-maid, has vanquished
your heart?"
"Her name is Costanza, not Portia, Minerva, or Penelope. That she is a
servant in an inn, I cannot deny; but what can I do, if, as it seems,
the occult force of destiny, and the deliberate choice of reason, both
impel me to adore her? Look you, friend, I cannot find words to tell you
how love exalts and glorifies in my eyes this humble scullery-maid, as
you call her, so that, though seeing her low condition, I am blind to
it, and knowing it, I ignore it. Try as I may, it is impossible for me
to keep it long before my eyes; for that thought is at once obliterated
by her beauty, her grace, her virtue, and modesty, which tell me that,
beneath that plebeian husk, must be concealed some kernel of
extraordinary worth. In short, be it what it may, I love her, and not
with that common-place love I have felt for others, but with a passion
so pure that it knows no wish beyond that of serving her, and prevailing
on her to love me, and return in the like kind what is due to my
honourable affection."
Here Lope gave a shout, and cried out in a declamatory tone, "O Platonic
love! O illustrious scullery-maid! O thrice-blessed age of ours, wherein
we see love renewing the marvels of the age of gold! O my poor tunnies,
you must pass this year without a visit from your impassioned admirer,
but next year be sure I will make amends, and you shall no longer find
me a truant."
"I see, Asturiano," said Tomas, "how openly you mock me. Why don't you
go to your fisheries? There is nothing to hinder you. I will remain
where I am, and you will find me here on your return. If you wish to
take your share of the money with you, take it at once; go your ways in
peace, and let each of us follow the course prescribed to him by his own
destiny."
"I thought you had more sense," said Lope. "Don't you know that I was
only joking? But now that I perceive you are in earnest, I will serve
you in earnest in everything I can do to please you. Only one thing I
entreat in return for the many I intend to do for you: do not expose me
to Argüello's persecution, for I would rather lose your friendship than
have to endure hers. Good God, friend! her tongue goes like the clapper
of a mill; you can smell her breath a league off; all her front teeth
are false, and it is my private opinion that she does not wear her own
hair, but a wig. To crown all, since she began to make overtures to me,
she has taken to painting white, till her face looks like nothing but a
mask of plaster."
"True, indeed, my poor comrade; she is worse even than the Gallegan who
makes me suffer martyrdom. I'll tell you what you shall do; only stay
this night in the inn, and to-morrow you shall buy yourself an ass, find
a lodging, and so secure yourself from the importunities of Argüello,
whilst I remain exposed to those of the Gallegan, and to the fire of my
Costanza's eyes."
This being agreed on, the two friends returned to the inn, where
Asturiano was received with great demonstrations of love by Argüello.
That night a great number of muleteers stopping in the house, and those
near it, got up a dance before the door of the Sevillano. Asturiano
played the guitar: the female dancers were the two Gallegans and
Argüello, and three girls from another inn. Many persons stood by as
spectators, with their faces muffled, prompted more by a desire to see
Costanza than the dance; but they were disappointed, for she did not
make her appearance. Asturiano played for the dancers with such spirit
and precision of touch that they all vowed he made the guitar speak; but
just as he was doing his best, accompanying the instrument with his
voice, and the dancers were capering like mad, one of the muffled
spectators cried out, "Stop, you drunken sot! hold your noise, wineskin,
piperly poet, miserable catgut scraper!" Several others followed up this
insulting speech with such a torrent of abuse that Lope thought it best
to cease playing and singing; but the muleteers took the interruption so
much amiss, that had it not been for the earnest endeavours of the
landlord to appease them, there would have been a terrible row. In spite
indeed of all he could do, the muleteers would not have kept their hands
quiet, had not the watch happened just then to come up and clear the
ground. A moment afterwards the ears of all who were awake in the
quarter were greeted by an admirable voice proceeding from a man who
had seated himself on a stone opposite the door of the Sevillano.
Everybody listened with rapt attention to his song, but none more so
than Tomas Pedro, to whom every word sounded like a sentence of
excommunication, for the romance ran thus:
In what celestial realms of space
Is hid that beauteous, witching face?
Where shines that star, which, boding ills,
My trembling heart with torment fills?
Why in its wrath should Heaven decree
That we no more its light should see?
Why bid that sun no longer cheer
With glorious beams our drooping sphere?
Yes, second sun! 'tis true you shine,
But not for us, with light divine!
Yet gracious come from ocean's bed;
Why hide from us your radiant head?
Constance! a faithful, dying swain
Adores your beauty, though in vain;
For when his love he would impart,
You fly and scorn his proffered heart!
O let his tears your pity sway,
And quick he'll bear you hence away;
For shame it is this sordid place,
Should do your charms such foul disgrace
Here you're submissive to control,
Sweet mistress of my doating soul!
But altars youths to you should raise,
And passion'd vot'ries sound your praise!