<h3>THIRD MASTER</h3>
<p class="subh2">HOW LAZARO TOOK SERVICE WITH A GENTLEMAN, AND WHAT
HAPPENED TO HIM</p>
<p class="ti0"><span class="smcap">Thus</span> I was obliged to
seek strength out of weakness, and little by little, with the
help of kind people, I reached this famous city of Toledo. <span class="sidenote">Lazaro reaches<br/>Toledo, and seeks<br/>for a master.</span>
At the end of fifteen days, by the mercy of God, my wound was healed.
While I was ill people gave me some alms, but as soon as I was well
they all said, “You lazy little vagabond, go and seek for a master whom
you may serve.” “But where can I find one?” I said to myself.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">On the road<br/>to Toledo.</span>I was
wandering about from door to door, without any settled purpose,
when I came upon an esquire,<SPAN id="FNanchor_24" href="#Footnote_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</SPAN> who was walking down the street, fairly well
dressed and groomed. He looked at me and I at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[p. 48]</span> him. <span class="sidenote">The
esquire.</span>He then said, “Boy! are you seeking for a master?” I
replied, “Yes, sir!” “Then come along behind me,” he said, “for God has
shown mercy to you by letting you meet with me.” So I followed him,
giving thanks to God. Judging from his dress and manner I thought he
was the sort of master of whom I stood in need.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Lazaro enters<br/>the service<br/>of an
esquire.</span>It was in the morning when I met with my third master,
and I followed him over a great part of the city. He passed by the
place where they sell bread and other provisions, and I thought and
desired that he would employ me to carry what he bought, for it was
the time for marketing. But, with a slow step, he passed by all these
things. Perhaps, I thought, he is not satisfied with them and intends
to make his purchases in some other place. In this way we walked about
until eleven in the forenoon, when he entered the principal church,
and I at his heels. I saw him hear Mass and the other divine offices
very devoutly until the service was all finished, and the people had
gone. Then we left the church and began to walk down the street. I was
the happiest boy in the world to see that my master had not troubled
himself about <span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[p. 51]</span>marketing,
for I deduced from that the belief that he had everything at home,
where I should find all that I desired. At last we came to a house
before which my master stopped, and I with him.</p>
<div class="figcenter mt1" id="p049">
<ANTIMG src="images/pb049.jpg" alt="Illustration" />
<p class="caption">
<span class="x_link"><SPAN href="images/pb049-g.jpg"><img
src="images/xpnd.jpg"
alt="Enlarge"
title="Enlarge" /></SPAN> </span>
“<i>I followed him over a great part of the city.</i>”</p>
</div>
<p class="mt1"><span class="sidenote">The esquire<br/>takes Lazaro<br/>to his
house.</span>Throwing the end of his cloak over his left shoulder, he
took a key out of his sleeve and opened the door. We entered the house.
It was so dark and dismal that it might cause fear to any one coming
in. Within there was a small court and fair-sized rooms. He then took
off his cloak and, first asking whether I had clean hands, he shook it
and folded it. Then, after very carefully blowing the dust off a bench
that was there, he put the cloak on it. Having done this he sat upon it
and began to ask me questions, in great detail, as to where I came from
and how I reached the city. I had to give him a much longer account
than I cared for, as it seemed to me that it was a more convenient time
for laying the cloth and getting the meal ready than for answering
what he asked. Nevertheless, I satisfied his curiosity with the best
lies I could invent, relating all I had done well, and holding my
tongue about the rest, which did not appear to me to be appropriate.
<span class="sidenote">Nothing to eat<br/>in the esquire’s<br/>house.</span>This
done, we remained in the same<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[p.
52]</span> place for a while. It was now nearly two o’clock in the
afternoon, and there was no more sign of anything to eat than there
would be for the dead.</p>
<p>After this my master closed the door and locked it, and neither
above nor below was there a sign of any other person in the house. All
I had seen was walls, without chairs or table, or even a chest, like
that of the rats and snake. It was like a house bewitched. At this
juncture he said to me, “You, my boy! have you eaten?” “No, sir,” said
I, “for it was not eight o’clock when I met your worship.” “Well,” he
said, “although I have breakfasted this morning, I shall be fasting
until night, so you must hold on, and afterwards we will have supper.”
<span class="sidenote">Lazaro sees<br/>trouble ahead<br/>about food, but<br/>he
dissimulates.</span>When I heard this I was very much depressed, not so
much from hunger, as from the knowledge that the luck was continuing
to be against me. For my hardships seemed to be coming back. I mourned
over my troubles, and remembered what I once thought, when I was
meditating on leaving the priest, that ill-fortune might bring me to
something worse. Finally, I began to weep over my miserable past life,
and over my approaching death. At the same time I dissimulated as well
as I could.</p>
<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[p. 53]</span></p>
<p>“Sir,” I said, “I am a boy who does not trouble much about eating,
blessed be God! So that I am able to receive praise among all my
equals, as the one who has the most moderate appetite, and for this I
have even been praised, up to this time, by my former masters.” “This
is a virtue,” he replied, “and for this I like you better. Gluttony is
for pigs and to eat with moderation for respectable people.” “Well do
I understand you,” said I to myself, “and cursed be such medicine, and
such kindness as I have had from my masters, who give me nothing but
starvation.”</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">The esquire and<br/>Lazaro sup on<br/>the boy’s
three<br/>pieces of bread.</span>I then put myself in one corner of the
doorway, and took some pieces of bread out of my bosom, which remained
from what had been given me. When he saw it he said to me, “Come
here, my boy, what is it you are eating?” I came to him and showed
him. He took for himself the largest of the three pieces I had, and
said to me, “By my life! this bread seems good.” “And sir,” said I,
“it is good.” “Yes, by my faith!” said he, “where did you get it
from—are you sure it was kneaded with clean hands?” “I do not know
that,” said I, “but the smell of it does not turn my stomach.” “Please
God!” said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[p. 54]</span> my poor
master, and, putting it to his mouth, he began to take as voracious
mouthfuls as I did with mine. “It is most delicious,” he said. I feared
he would finish first, and that he would want to help me with what
was left of mine, so we both came to an end at the same time. <span class="sidenote">A meagre supper<br/>and a wretched<br/>bed.</span>My master
then began to collect with his hand a few crumbs which had remained
on our breasts. Then he went into a small room and brought out a jug
without a spout, and not very new. After he had had a drink he offered
it to me. I said, “Sir! I do not drink wine.” “It is water,” he
replied, “and you can well drink it.” Then I took the jug and drank,
but not very much, as thirst was not my complaint. So we remained until
the night, talking about things he had asked me, while I gave the best
answers I could.</p>
<p>He took me into the chamber out of which he had brought the jug
of water, and said, “Boy, stay here, and see how we make this bed,
that you may know how to make it henceforward.” He put me at one end
and himself at the other, and he made the miserable bed. There was
not much to make. He had a sort of hurdle on trestles. Over this he
spread clothes. They did not look very like a mattress, but served as
one, with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[p. 55]</span> much less
blanket than was necessary. What there was we spread out, but it was
impossible to soften the bed. It was too hard.</p>
<p>When the bed was made, and the night being come, he said to me:
“Lazaro, it is now too late, it is a long way to the market-place,
and in this city there are many thieves who prowl about at night.
We must do the best we can, and to-morrow, when it is light, God
will have mercy. Being alone I am not provided, for I have been
in the habit of having my meals outside, but now we will arrange
things in another way.” <span class="sidenote">The esquire’s<br
/>apology for<br/>no supper. His<br/> philosophical view<br/>of
starvation.</span> “Sir,” I replied, “do not trouble about me,
for I can pass a night like this.” “You will become more and more
healthy,” he then told me, “for there is nothing in the world that
lives long but it eats little.” “If that is so,” I said to myself, “I
shall never die, for I have always been obliged to observe that rule
by force, and even, if my ill-luck continues, it may be so all my
life.”</p>
<p>He lay down on the bed, using his hose and doublet for a pillow, and
ordered me to put myself at his feet. I did so, but not to go to sleep,
for the canes of the hurdle and my protruding bones struggled with each
other without ceasing. What with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[p.
56]</span> my hardships, misery, and starvation I do not think there
was a pound’s weight of flesh on my body. <span class="sidenote">A very
bad night.</span>As I had scarcely eaten anything all day I was wild
with hunger, which is not a friend of sleep. I cursed my fate and my
ill-luck a thousand times, may God pardon me! I was like that most of
the night, not daring to turn for fear of awakening my master; and I
prayed to God many times for death.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">The esquire<br/>attends<br/>to his outward<br/>
appearance.</span>When morning came we got up and began to shake and
brush the doublet and hose, the coat and cloak. My master dressed
himself very carefully, combed his hair, washed his hands, and put his
sword on. As he did so he said to me: “Ah, my boy, if you only knew
what a weapon this sword is. There is not a mark of gold in the whole
world for which I would give it. Moreover, there is not a sword among
all that Antonio ever made that has the steel so tempered as this one.”
Then he drew it out and tried it with his finger, saying, “Look here,
I am obliged to use a ball of wool for it.” I said to myself, “And I
need a piece of bread for my teeth, though they are not made of steel.”
He put his sword back, and with a stately pace, his body erect, his
head turned gently from side to side, throwing <span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[p. 59]</span>the end of his cloak over his shoulder, and
putting his right hand on his side, he said, “Lazaro, take care of the
house, make the bed, fetch water from the river for the jug, as it is
getting low. I am going to hear Mass. Lock the door that nothing may be
stolen, placing the key on the hook by the hinge, that I may be able to
come in when I return.”</p>
<div class="figcenter mt1" id="p057">
<ANTIMG src="images/pb057.jpg" alt="Illustration" />
<p class="caption">
<span class="x_link"><SPAN href="images/pb057-g.jpg"><img
src="images/xpnd.jpg"
alt="Enlarge"
title="Enlarge" /></SPAN> </span>
“<i>What there was we spread out.</i>”</p>
</div>
<p class="mt1"><span class="sidenote">Stately<br/>appearance of the<br/>esquire
when he<br/>walked abroad.</span>He then marched down the street with such
a contained and noble air that any one who did not know the contrary
would have thought that he was a very near relation to the Count of
Arcos,<SPAN id="FNanchor_25" href="#Footnote_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</SPAN>
or at least his chamberlain who had been clothed by him. “A blessing on
you, my lord,” I was left saying, “who gives the disease and provides
the remedy.” Who would meet my master, and, judging from his satisfied
look, not suppose that he had supped well and slept in a comfortable
bed, and that in the morning he had had a good breakfast? <span class="sidenote">Lazaro’s<br/>reflections on<br/>the secrets hidden<br/>under the
<br/>esquire’s cloak.</span>Great secrets, sir, are those which you keep and
of which the world is ignorant.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[p.
60]</span> Who would not be deceived by that fair presence and decent
cloak? And who would think that the same gentleman passed all that day
without eating anything but the bit of bread which his servant Lazaro
had carried all day in his bosom, where it was not likely to find much
cleanliness? To-day, washing his hands and face, he had to wipe them
with the end of his cloak for want of a towel. Certainly no one would
have suspected it. O Lord! how many such as him must be scattered over
the world, who suffer for the jade they call honour that which they
would not suffer for a friend.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Lazaro’s<br/>reflections.<br/>He goes for water<br/>and
finds his<br/>master flirting<br/>on the river bank.</span>I was standing at
the door, looking out and thinking of these and many other things until
my master disappeared down the long and narrow street. Then I went back
into the house, and in the time that it would take to say a <i>credo</i>
I had run all over it without finding anything. I made the hard bed,
took up the jug and went with it to the river. There I saw my master
in great request with two fair ladies in a garden. There were other
ladies, for many think it fashionable to go and refresh themselves
on summer mornings by those pleasant banks. In confidence that they
will be well received, several gentlemen of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[p. 61]</span> place also frequent the river-side. As I
have said, my master was among them, saying the sweetest things that
Ovid ever wrote. They had no shame in asking him to pay for their
breakfasts, but he, finding that he was as cold in the purse as he was
empty in the stomach, began to have that feeling which robs the face
of its colour, and to make not very valid excuses. When they saw his
infirmity, they went to those who were not suffering from it. I was
breaking my fast with some stalks of vegetables with great diligence,
and not seeing any more of my master I went back to the house.</p>
<p>I thought of sweeping some part of it, which was very necessary,
but I could find nothing with which to do it; so I set myself to think
what I should do next. <span class="sidenote">Lazaro waits long<br/>for
his master<br/>to bring food, but<br/>he never came.</span>I thought I would
wait for my master until noon. When he came he might by good luck bring
something for us to eat. But there was no such experience for me. It
was two o’clock, my master had not come, and I was desperately hungry.
So I shut the door, put the key where I was told, and gave all my
attention to my own necessities.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Lazaro’s<br/>successful begging<br/>
expedition.</span>With a low and feeble voice, and my hands in
my bosom, the good God before my eyes, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[p. 62]</span> my tongue repeating His Name, I began to
pray for bread at the largest houses and doors I came upon. As this
method was sucked in with my mother’s milk, or I should say that I
learnt it from that great master of it, the blind man, so good a
disciple was I that, although in this city little is known of charity,
nor had it been an abundant year, I made such a good haul that, before
the clock struck four, I had several pounds of bread inside me, and two
loaves up my sleeve and in my bosom. I returned to the house, and, in
passing a tripe-shop, I begged of one of the shopwomen, who gave me a
piece of a cow’s foot and several pieces of boiled tripe.</p>
<p>When I got back to the house my good master was already there. The
cloak was folded and put on the bench, and he was pacing up and down.
He came up to me, and I thought he was going to scold me for being
late. He asked me where I had been, and I said, “Sir! I was here until
it struck two. But when I saw that you were not coming, I went over
the city, to commend myself to the kind people, and they have given me
what you see.” I showed him the bread and the tripe, which I carried in
the end of my skirt. At this he seemed well pleased and said, “Well, I
waited for you to eat, and when you did not <span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[p. 65]</span>come I ate what there was, but you have
done well in this, for it is better to beg in the name of God than to
steal. He helps me as He sees fit. <span class="sidenote">What touches
the<br/>esquire’s honour.</span>I merely charge you that people must not
be told that you live with me, for it touches my honour; though I well
believe that it will be kept secret, because very few people know me
here.”</p>
<div class="figcenter mt1" id="p063">
<ANTIMG src="images/pb063.jpg" alt="Illustration" />
<p class="caption">
<span class="x_link"><SPAN href="images/pb063-g.jpg"><img
src="images/xpnd.jpg"
alt="Enlarge"
title="Enlarge" /></SPAN> </span>
“<i>Gave me a piece of a cow’s foot and several pieces of boiled tripe.</i>”</p>
</div>
<p class="mt1">“Do not be troubled about that, sir,“ I replied to him,
“for cursed be he who asks the question, and myself if I tell him
anything. No, we shall soon be free from want. When I saw that nothing
good came into this house I went out. Surely the ground must be bad, or
there must be unlucky houses which bring ill-luck to those who live in
them.” “This one must be so without doubt,” he replied. “I promise you
that after a month I will not stay in it, even if it is given me as my
own.”</p>
<p>I sat down at the end of the bench, and, that he might not take me
for a glutton, I said nothing about the meal. I began supper, and to
bite my bread and tripe. <span class="sidenote">The esquire longs<br/>for
a share of<br/>Lazaro’s supper.</span>Looking stealthily I saw that my
unhappy master could not take his eyes off my skirt, which served as a
plate. May God have as much pity for me as I had for him! I could feel
what he felt, and have been feeling so every day. I thought whether it
would be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[p. 66]</span> right for
me to invite him to share, for as he had told me that he had dined, he
might decline the invitation. Finally, I asked that sinner to help me
in my work, and to break his fast as he did the day before. He had a
better chance, the food being better and my hunger less. It pleased God
to comply with my wish, and I even think with his. For as he passed,
in walking up and down, he came to me and said: “I assure you, Lazaro,
that you have the best grace in eating that I ever saw in any one, and
that no one can see you doing it, without having a longing to eat, even
when he had no such longing before.” “The great longing that you have
makes you think my way of eating so beautiful,” I said to myself, “and
causes your wish to help me.”</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Lazaro’s courtesy,<br/>tact, and
kindness.</span>He longed to join me, and I opened a way by saying,
“Sir, the good tools make the good craftsman. This bread is delicious,
and this cow’s foot is so well cooked and seasoned that there is no
one that would not be drawn to it by the smell alone.” “Cow’s foot,
is it?” he said. “Yes, sir!” “I tell you that is the best mouthful
in the world, there is not even a pheasant that is so good.” “Try
it, sir!” said I, “and see whether it is as good as you think.”
<span class="sidenote">Lazaro generously<br/>provides<br/>his master<br/>with a
supper.</span>I put on one side<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[p.
67]</span> the cow’s foot and three or four pieces of bread, and he sat
down by my side, and began to eat as if he would like to devour every
little bone. “This wonderful food is like a hotch-potch,” he said. “You
eat with the best kind of sauce,” I replied. “Before God,” said he,
“if I had known I would not have eaten a mouthful all day.” “Thus the
good years avenge me,” I said to myself. He asked me for the jug of
water, and I gave it to him just as I had brought it. My master had not
over-eaten, and it is a sign of this that there was no want of water.
We both drank, and went to bed in the same way as the night before,
well contented. To avoid prolixity I may say that the same thing went
on for the next eight or ten days.</p>
<p>In the mornings my master went out to take the air in the streets
with the same satisfied look, leaving poor Lazaro with the head of a
wolf. I often reflected on my misfortune that, escaping from the evil
masters I had served, and seeking to better myself, I should have
found one who not only did not maintain me, but whom I had to support.
With all that I liked him well enough, seeing that he could not do
better. My feeling was rather of sorrow than of enmity. Often I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[p. 68]</span> fared ill in bringing to
the house that with which he might be satisfied.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Lazaro examines<br/>the esquire’s<br/>clothes, and
<br/>finds nothing.</span>One morning the sad esquire got out of bed in his
shirt and went up to the roof of the house. I quickly searched the hose
and doublet at the head of the bed, and found a small purse of velvet,
but there had not been so much as a blanca in it for many a day. “This
man,” I said to myself, “is really poor, and cannot give what he has
not got. The avaricious blind man and the ill-conditioned clergyman,
may God reward them both! nearly killed me with hunger, the one with a
kiss on the hand, the other with a deceitful tongue. Those it is right
for me to detest, but for this poor man to have a tender feeling.”
God is my witness that even now when I meet with any one dressed
like this, and walking with the same pompous air, it makes me sad to
think that he might be suffering what I saw my poor master suffer.
<span class="sidenote">Lazaro has a<br/>kindly feeling for<br/>his third
master.</span>With all his poverty I liked serving him; but not the
other two masters. I only felt some discontent, for I should have liked
him not to be quite so proud, and to have lowered his pretensions just
a little when his necessities were so great. But it seems to me that it
is a well-established rule among such people to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[p. 69]</span> march with their caps well cocked, though
they have not a blanca to their names. The Lord have mercy on those who
have to die of this disease!</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Begging<br/>prohibited.</span>I was in this
condition, passing the life I have described, when my ill-luck again
began to pursue me. In that land the year was one which only yielded a
bad harvest, so the municipal authorities resolved that all mendicants
should leave the town; with the addition that any who remained after
four days should be punished by whipping. Then the law took effect,
and there were processions of poor people being whipped down the four
streets.</p>
<p>This so frightened me that I did not dare to transgress by begging.
So you may imagine the abstinence of our house, and the sadness and
silence of its inmates. We were two or three days without eating a
mouthful or speaking a word. <span class="sidenote">Lazaro is kept<br/>
alive by some<br/>kind shop-girls.</span>Some young women, sewers of cotton
who made caps and lived near us, kept me alive, for I had made friends
with them. From the little they had, they gave me enough to keep body
and soul together. I was not so unhappy for myself as for my forlorn
master, who in eight days never ate a mouthful, at least in the house.
I do not know where he went or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[p.
70]</span> what he had to eat when he went out. I used to see him
come back at noon, walking along the street with dignified carriage,
thinner than a greyhound of good breed, and with regard to what touched
the nonsense he called honour, he brought a straw of which we had
not enough in the house. <span class="sidenote">Master and boy in<br/>a
miserable and<br/>starving condition.</span>Coming to the door he would
grind his teeth with nothing between them, complaining all the time
of his bad lodging and saying: “It is a bad thing to see, and a most
unlucky place to have to live in, and while we have to be here it will
always be wretchedly sad. We have got to endure it, but I wish that
this month was over, so that we might leave it.”</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">The esquire brings<br/>home a real, but<br/>bemoans
his fate.</span>Being in this miserable and starving condition, one
day, I know not through what good-fortune or chance, my poor master
became possessed of a real. He came to the house with it, as delighted
as if he had got all the riches of Venice, and smiling at me with a
very joyous expression, he said: “Take it, Lazaro, for God has at
length begun to open His hand. Go to the market for bread, meat, and
wine, for we will break the Devil’s eye. I would further have you to
know that I have taken another house, and that we shall not have to
be in this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[p. 71]</span> wretched
one for more than another month. May it be accursed, and he who placed
the first tile to build it! O Lord! how have I lived here! Scarcely a
drop of wine have I drunk nor a morsel of bread have I eaten, nor have
I ever had any rest here, and it looks so sad and forbidding. Go and
return quickly, for to-day we will eat like counts.”</p>
<p>I took the jug and the real, and giving speed to my feet, I began to
run up the street to the market, very joyful and contented. But of what
avail if evil fortune always brought anxiety with my joy. So it was on
this occasion.</p>
<p>As I ran up the street I was calculating how I could spend the money
to the best advantage and most profitably, giving thanks to God that
my master had got something to spend. <span class="sidenote">Terror
of Lazaro,<br/>thinking they were<br/>bringing a dead<br/>body to his
house.</span>Suddenly I met a funeral with many priests and mourners. I
got up against the wall to let them pass. Presently they came, one in
deep mourning, apparently the wife of the deceased, with other women.
She was crying with a loud voice and saying, “O my lord and husband,
whither are they taking you, to the sad and empty house, to the dark
and wretched place, to the house where there is nothing to eat and
drink.” When I heard this the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[p.
72]</span> heaven and earth seemed to be joined together. I exclaimed,
“O unhappy me! it is to our house that they are taking this dead body.”
I turned back, slipped through the crowd of people, and ran down the
street as fast as I could to our house. <span class="sidenote">Lazaro
bars the<br/>door to keep out<br/>the dead body.</span>When I got there I began
to close the door in great haste, calling on my master to come and
help, and to defend the entrance. He was rather surprised, thinking it
was something else, and said to me, “What is this, my boy, what are
you making a noise about, what are you doing, why are you shutting the
door in such a fury?” “Oh sir,” I cried, “they are bringing a dead body
here!” “How do you know?” he said. “I met it in the street,” I replied,
“and the dead man’s wife was crying and shouting, ‘My lord and husband,
whither do they take you, to the dark and dismal house, to the sad and
wretched place, to the house where they never eat nor drink.’ It must
be here, sir, that they are bringing it.” Certainly when my master
heard this, though he had no great reason to be merry, he laughed so
heartily that it was a long time before he could speak. By this time
I had got the beam across the door and put my shoulder against it, to
make it more secure.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Lazaro barring<br/>the door.</span>The people
passed with their corpse, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[p.
73]</span> all the time I pushed against the door, to prevent them from
getting into the house. At last, when he had had much more of laughing
than of eating, my good master said to me, “In truth, Lazaro, seeing
what the widow was saying, you were right to think as you did. But God
has been good to us, and they have passed. So open, open, and go and
get the food.” “Let me wait, sir, until they are out of the street,”
I begged. <span class="sidenote">At last the esquire<br/>unbars the door,<br/>
and Lazaro does<br/>his marketing.</span>At last my master came and opened
the door in spite of me, which was necessary, because I was so upset
with fear and excitement. I then went out. We ate well on that day, but
I took no pleasure in it, nor did my colour come back for three more
days, while my master smiled a good deal, whenever he noticed the state
I had been in.</p>
<p>In this way I continued with my third and poorest master, the
esquire, for several succeeding days, always longing to know the
reason of his coming and remaining in this place. For, from the first
day that I took service with him, I saw that he was a stranger,
from the little intercourse he had with the inhabitants. <span class="sidenote">The esquire<br/>tells his story<br/>to Lazaro.</span>At
last I accomplished my desire, and came to know what I wanted. It
was one day when we had eaten reasonably well,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[p. 74]</span> and were rather well satisfied. He told
me about his affairs, and said that he came from Old Castille. He
said he had left his home for no other reason than that he had not
taken off his cap to a knight who was his neighbour. “Sir,” I said,
“if that was what happened, and he was greater than you, were you not
wrong in not having doffed your cap first? but he ought to have taken
his off as well.” He went on to say that the knight did take off his
cap to him; but that he had taken his off first so many times, that
it was well to see what the other would do. “It seems to me, sir,”
said I, “that you should have doffed to one greater and richer than
yourself.” <span class="sidenote">The esquire<br/>expounds his<br/>views of
honour<br/>to Lazaro.</span>“You are only a boy,” he replied, “and cannot
understand the things appertaining to honour in which, at the present
time, is all the wealth of respectable people. You must remember that
I am, as you know, an esquire. I swear to God that if I met a count in
the street and he did not salute me, I would not salute him if I met
him again. I should enter some house as if I had business there, or
turn down another street before he came near me. For a gentleman owes
nothing to any one but God and the king; nor is it right for a man
of honour to forego his self<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[p.
75]</span>-respect. I remember that one day, in my country, I affronted
and nearly came to blows with an officer, because whenever I saluted
him he said, ‘May God preserve your honour!’ ‘You are a wretch,’ I
said, ‘for you are not well bred. You said to me “God preserve you,”
as if I was nobody.’ From that time he took off his cap, and behaved
properly.” <span class="sidenote">The esquire<br/>continues to<br/>discourse on
<br/>the same subject.</span>“Is it not good manners for one man to salute
another,” I asked, “or to say ‘God preserve you’?” He answered, “It
is only underbred people who talk thus. To gentlemen like myself, it
should be not less than ‘I kiss the hands of your honour!’ or at the
very least, ‘I kiss your hand, sir!’ if he who speaks is a knight. In
my own land I would not suffer a mere ‘God preserve you,’ nor will I
suffer it from any man in the world, from the king downwards.” “Sinner
that I am,” said I, “for having taken so little care about it. But will
you not suffer any one to pray for you?”</p>
<p>He continued: “Above all, I am not so poor but that I possess, in my
own country, an estate of houses which are well-built, sixteen leagues
from where I was born, in the vicinity of Valladolid. They would be
worth two hundred times a thousand maravedis if they were in good
repair; and I also have a pigeon<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[p.
76]</span>-cote which, if it was not demolished, would give out two
hundred pigeons every year, as well as other things about which I am
silent, as it might touch my honour.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">The esquire’s<br/>honour makes<br/>him fastidious<br/>in
accepting<br/>employment.</span>“I came to this city because I expected to
find a good appointment, but things have not turned out as I thought.
Canons and other Churchmen find plenty, because their profession is not
overcrowded. Careless gentlemen also seek me, but to serve with such
people involves great trouble, for a man must lose his self-respect
with them. If not they tell you to go in God’s name, while the pay is
usually at long intervals; when they wish to clear their consciences,
and pay for your work, they make you free of a wardrobe containing a
worn doublet and a frayed cloak. <span class="sidenote">Service with<br/>
a great lord is not<br/>to the esquire’s<br/>liking.</span>When a man takes
service with a titled lord there is also misery. I cannot undertake to
serve or content such. By the Lord! if I should engage myself to one,
I think that I should be a great favourite, and that he would confer
great favours on me; but I should have to like his habits and customs
though not the best in the world; I should be expected never to say a
word that would displease, to be very careful in word and deed, not
to kill myself in doing things<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[p.
77]</span> which the great man would not see, never to consort with
those who would do him disservice because it would behove me to guard
his interests. If some servant of his excites his anger by neglecting
his duties, and it should appear that something might be said for the
accused, on the contrary you must scoff at the poor fellow maliciously.
It is a duty to inform against those in the house, and to find out
what is done outside, so as to report it. Many other things of a like
kind are the custom in a palace, and with the lord of it, who appears
honourable. But such lords do not want to see virtuous men in their
houses. On the contrary, they hate and despise them, calling them
useless and unacquainted with business. I do not wish to trust my
fortunes with such people.”</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">When the people<br/>came for their<br/>rent, the
esquire<br/>disappeared.</span>In this way my master was lamenting his
ill-fortune, and giving me an account of his valorous person. While he
was thus employed a man and an old woman came in by the door. The man
asked for the rent of the house, and the old woman for the rent of the
bed, saying that they were hired from two months to two months. I think
the sum required was twelve to thirteen reals. My master gave them a
very civil answer, saying that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[p.
78]</span> he would go out and get change, and return in the
afternoon.</p>
<p>But his departure was without any return. They returned in the
afternoon when it was late, and I told them that he had not yet come
back. The night came, but he did not. I was afraid to stay in the house
alone, so I went to my girl-friends, told them what had happened, and
slept there. When morning came the creditors returned and asked for the
lodger. The girls answered that his boy was there, and that the key was
in the door. They asked me where my master was, and I answered that
I did not know where he was, but that he had gone out to get change.
I thought that he had gone with the change from me as well as from
them.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Creditors search<br/>for the esquire’s<br/>effects,
but<br/>there are none.</span>When they had heard what I had to say they
went for an officer and a scrivener. Presently they returned with
them. They took the key, called me and some witnesses, opened the door
and went in to take possession of my master’s effects until he had
paid his debts. They went all over the house and found it empty. Then
they asked me where my master’s effects were, his chest, clothes, and
jewelry. I said that I did not know. No doubt, they said, they have got
up in the night and taken <span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[p.
81]</span>them somewhere else. <span class="sidenote">Lazaro is taken<br/>
into custody.</span>“Sir,” they said to the officer, “take this boy
into custody, for he knows where the effects are.” On this the officer
came and took me by the collar, saying, “Boy, you are my prisoner if
you do not show us the goods of your master.”</p>
<div class="figcenter mt1" id="p079">
<ANTIMG src="images/pb079.jpg" alt="Illustration" />
<p class="caption">
<span class="x_link"><SPAN href="images/pb079-g.jpg"><img
src="images/xpnd.jpg"
alt="Enlarge"
title="Enlarge" /></SPAN> </span>
“<i>They returned in the afternoon.</i>”</p>
</div>
<p class="mt1">I never was in such a plight as this, though I had been
taken by the collar many times. I was dreadfully frightened and began
to cry, promising to tell them all they might ask. “That is well,” they
said, “tell all you know and you have nothing to fear.”</p>
<p>The scrivener then sat down on the bench to write out the inventory,
asking me what there was. I said, “What my master has, according to
what he told me, is a very good estate consisting of houses and a
demolished pigeon-cote.” “This is worth little,” they said, “but it
will do for the payment of his debts. In what part of the town is
it?” “In his own country,” I replied. “By the Lord! this is a fine
business,” they exclaimed, “and where is his country?” “He told me that
it was in Old Castille,” I said. The officer and the scrivener laughed
a good deal, and said, “This is a good story to cover your debts!”</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Lazaro is released,<br/>at the intercession<br/>
of his girl-friends.</span>The girls who were my neighbours, and
who were present, then said: “Sirs! this is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[p. 82]</span> an innocent child, and has only been a few
days with that esquire, and knows no more than your worships. He used
to come to our house and we gave him to eat what we could spare, for
the love of God, and at night he went to sleep with the esquire.”</p>
<p>Seeing that I was innocent they let me go. Then the officer and the
scrivener asked for their fees from the man and the old woman, over
which there was much contention and noise. They declared that they
ought not to be forced to pay, for they had got nothing to pay with,
and that the seizure of goods had not been made. The others maintained
that they had been taken away from other business of more consequence.
Finally, after making a great noise, they went away, and I do not know
how it ended.</p>
<p><span class="sidenote">Lazaro finds<br/>himself deserted<br/>by his
master.</span>Having rested from my past troubles I went about to seek
employment. Thus I left my poor third master, and know not his unhappy
fate. Looking back at all that had gone against me, I found that I had
managed my affairs in a reverse way. Masters are usually deserted by
their boys, but with me it was not so. For my master deserted and fled
from me.</p>
<hr class="chap0" />
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