_Guzman takes a false alarm, and leaves Toledo precipitately. Another
gallantry. Origin of the proverb, “at Malagon, a thief in every house,
but in that of the Alcaid two, the father and the son.”_
Thus ended my gallantries at Toledo; and to complete my misfortunes,
when I arrived at my inn, I met an Alguazil there, who, I was informed,
had just arrived from Madrid, and had been making very particular
inquiries of the landlord for a certain _quidam_, of whom he was in
search. I did not hear this without uneasiness; nevertheless, alarmed as
I was, I managed to put a bold face on the matter; but I was so agitated
the whole of the night that I could not get a wink of sleep. I rose
early the next morning, still thinking of this cursed Alguazil, and went
out to walk in the Zocodover. I had not gone once round the square,
before I heard a man crying, _Two mules returning to Almagro_.
I determined to avail myself of this opportunity, and resolved in a
moment to hire these two mules, as though I had foreseen that I should
find a company of soldiers at Almagro on the point of departure for
Italy. I spoke to the crier, and we soon agreed; after which I sent my
lackey to pay my landlord, and to fetch my baggage, which consisted of a
portmanteau, in which was my fashionable dress, some fine linen, and
what remained of my money. As soon as he rejoined me, I gave him one of
the mules, mounted myself on the other, and rejoiced at having found so
favourable an opportunity of leaving Toledo, where I could no longer
remain in peace, I took the route towards Orgas, where I slept that
night.
At the inn where we stopped there chanced to be a very pretty
servant-maid, who, from her wit and obliging manners, seemed so superior
to her condition that I commenced a conversation with her, in the course
of which I could not refrain from plainly expressing the amorous desires
I felt towards her. So far from being startled at this declaration, she
anticipated my wishes, and went so far as to promise that she would
steal into my chamber in the night. “But, my darling,” said I, “can I be
sure that you will not deceive me? Can I rely upon this promise?”
“Certainly,” answered she; “you are too handsome a young gentleman for
me to wish to impose on; rely on it, I will keep my word.”
I slept that night in a chamber in which there were some oats kept, the
door of which I took care to leave open, that my damsel might come in at
what hour she pleased. I fell asleep while I lay waiting for her,
though it is not very usual to think of sleeping on such occasions; but
the uneasiness caused by the Alguazil the preceding night not having
permitted me to take any repose, I felt more inclined to rest than to
make love. I was soon awoke, however, by hearing a slight noise in the
room, which I did not doubt was my fair one; and anxious to receive her
with the attention that her punctual observance of her promise seemed to
deserve, “Approach, my charmer,” said I, in a low voice, “I have been
waiting impatiently for you.” No one answered. I thought the jade
behaved thus to provoke my desires the more, and with this conviction I
leant half my body out of bed, and stretched out my arms to seize her;
and my hands lighted on something exceedingly soft, but of such a
softness as revolted against my ideas. In fact, it was the ear of an
ass, who had left his stable and entered my chamber, attracted by the
smell of the oats that were kept there. This animal, whose head was
almost as low as the floor when I touched him, raised it on a sudden, as
a punishment for my sins, and gave me so violent a blow on the chin,
that it loosened all my teeth, and filled my mouth with blood. I rose
from my bed swearing, and with the intention of running my sword through
this accursed beast, who, fortunately, however, for him, was frightened
at the noise I made, and took to his heels. I was content, therefore, to
lie down again, with curses against love, and renewing the oath I had
already made, to be more cautious of its snares.
A few moments before day-light I was just beginning to doze again, when
the muleteer entered my chamber to give me notice that breakfast was
ready, and that if I wished to reach Malagon at any reasonable hour that
day, I had no time to lose. I was soon up and dressed; and after having
eaten a good breakfast of what the host chose to provide for me, I was
just going to mount my mule, when she directed a violent kick at me,
which would certainly have crippled me for the remainder of my days had
I been at a greater distance; but I was luckily so close to the plaguy
beast that she could not do me much harm. “The devil take all females!”
cried I; “I was born to be ill-treated by them.” To divert the
companions of my journey, and to amuse myself, I related to them on the
road the particulars of my late adventure with the ass. This recital
seemed particularly diverting and interesting to the muleteer, who told
us, after having laughed his bellyful, that Luzia, which was the
servant’s name, had been more faithful to him: that she had passed the
greater part of the night with him, and he gave me this piece of
information for my guidance in future: that the servants in inns were
always considered the right of the muleteers, as a recompence for the
service they do the landlord in bringing travellers to his house.
We arrived at Malagon at night, whence I set out again the next day,
without any other scurvy trick of fortune except having lost one bottle
of wine, which I missed when we had got about three or four leagues from
the town. “As I live,” quoth I, “this theft brings to my recollection,
and verifies the old proverb which declares, that _in Malagon there is a
thief in every house, but in that of the Alcaid two, the father and the
son_. Upon this the muleteer asked me if I knew the origin of this
proverb. I answered that I did not, and that I should be glad to hear
it. If I may believe an old man from whom I had it, replied he, this is
the story.
“In the year 1236, when Don Fernando, surnamed the Holy, King of Castile
and Leon, was one day at Beneventum, news was brought him that the
Christian troops had entered Cordova, having already possessed
themselves of the suburbs called Axarquia; but that the Moors, to whom
the place belonged, and who were very superior in numbers, were
preparing to repulse them. This monarch, animated by his zeal for his
religion, resolved to fly to the relief of the Christians, and sent
notice of his design to Don Alvaro Perez de Castro, and Don Ordonis
Alvaroz, who were both at Marts. These two lords, who were at that time
the most illustrious cavaliers in Castile, instantly repaired to the
King, who immediately set out as he had determined. As he was only
accompanied by about a hundred men, he issued orders to all his warriors
and vassals, who might be dispersed in the different towns and villages
under his dominion, to follow him to Cordova. These orders would have
been executed willingly, and without delay, had it been practicable; but
it was then just in the middle of the month of January, and the heavy
snow and rains had fallen in such abundance as to cause all the rivers
and springs to overflow: so that the troops were not able to advance,
but were obliged to halt at every place they came to.
“So great a number of them were under the necessity of stopping at
Malagon, that one soldier was obliged to be quartered in every house,
and two in those of the more opulent citizens. The commander of these
troops, and his son, who was also an officer, chanced to fall to the lot
of the Alcaid. Though this was a very considerable town, yet there were
now so many people in it, and the times were so hard, that provisions
became extremely scarce and dear, and as the soldiers were not able to
procure them at such excessive rates, they began to steal, to prevent
their dying with hunger. While these things were going on, a merry
conceited peasant who had just passed through the town in his way to
Toledo, met a troop of cavaliers on the road near Orgas, who asked him
whence he came. “From Malagon,” replied he; “and what news from thence?”
inquired one of the cavaliers. The peasant made this answer, which has
since become a proverb, “at Malagon there is a thief in every house, and
in that of the Alcaid two, the father and the son.”
“It is most unfair,” continued the muleteer, “that this proverb should
be applied to the inhabitants of Malagon, since they were the persons
robbed, and not those that robbed others. On the contrary, I will
maintain to their credit, that from Madrid to Seville there is no inn
where travellers are better treated and less imposed on than at Malagon.
I do not pretend to say that there are not knaves in that place, as well
as elsewhere; but I assure you there are many worse in this country.”
Just as the muleteer ended his discourse, another muleteer of his
acquaintance came up to us, of whom I asked what was going on at
Almagro, whence he had just come, and he informed me that there was a
company of soldiers there, newly raised, and destined, he believed, for
Italy. I was enraptured at this news, and felt disposed to forgive
fortune, now that she presented me with so favourable an opportunity of
gratifying my violent desire to go to Genoa, for all the hardships that
she had hitherto made me endure.