Pablo de Segovia, the Spanish Sharper by Francisco de Quevedo (e book reading free TXT) 📕

epub:type="noteref">9 He received us very lovingly, because he and the carters went snacks, for we travelled so slowly that they were there before us. He came to the coach-side, gave me his hand to alight, and asked me, “Whether I was going to the University?” I told him I was. He put me into the house, where two bullies were with some wenches, a curate praying by them, an old covetous shopkeeper endeavouring to forget his supper, and two scoundrelly shabby scholars, contriving how to fill their bellies free of cost. My master, as being the last comer and but a boy, said, “Landlord, get what you have in the house for me and two servants.” “We are all your servants, sir,” said the sharpers, “and will wait on you. Here, landlord, take notice; this gentleman will stand treat; fetch out all you have in the larder.” This said, one of them stepped up to Don Diego, and taking off his cloak, laid it by, saying, “Pray, sir, sit down and rest you.” This puffed me up so full of vanity that the inn was too little to hold me. One of the damsels said, “What a well shaped gentleman it is; is he going to his studies? Are you his servant, sir?” I, fancying that every word they said was sincere, answered, “That I and the other were both his servants.” They asked me his name, and it was scarce out of my mouth, before one of the scholars went up to him, with tears in his eyes, and embracing him, as if he had been his brother, said, “O my dear Don Diego! who would have thought, ten years ago, to have seen you thus. Unhappy man, I am in such a condition that you will not know me.” My master and I were both amazed, and swore we had never seen him in all our days. The scholar’s companion stared Don Diego in the face, and said to his friend, “Is this the gentleman of whose father you told me so many stories? It is extraordinary fortunate that we have met him, and know him. He is grown very tall; God bless him.” With this he began to cross himself, and seemed so overjoyed, that any man would have thought we had been brought up together. Don Diego made him many compliments; and as he was asking him his name, out came the innkeeper, and laid the cloth; and smelling the joke, said, “Let that alone and talk of it after supper, for the meat will be cold.” One of the bullies stepped up, and set stools for everybody, and an arm chair for Don Diego; the other of them brought in a dish. The scholars said, “Do you sup, sir, and whilst they dress what the house affords for us, we will wait on you at table.” “God forbid,” answered Don Diego; “pray, gentlemen, sit down if you please.” The bullies, though he did not speak to them, readily answered, “Presently, good sir; all is not ready yet.” When I saw some invited and the others invite themselves, my heart was in my mouth, and I dreaded what came to pass; for the scholars laying hold of the salad, which was a good dishful, and looking upon my master, said, “It would be unreasonable that these ladies should be left supperless, where a gentleman of such quality is; pray, sir, give them leave to take a bit.” My master, like a true cully, invited them to partake. They sat down, and between the scholars and them, in a trice, there was but one single lettuce of all the salad left, which last bit Don Diego had; and as the accursed students gave it him, he said, “Sir, you had a grandfather, who was my father’s uncle, that swooned at the sight of a lettuce; he was a man of such an odd disposition.” This said, he fetched himself down a brick of bread, and his companion did the like. The damsels had made a great hole in a good loaf; but yet the poor curate ate more than all of them with his eyes and wishes. The bullies bringing in a whole side of kid roasted, and a dish of pigeons and bacon boiled, took their places at the table, saying to the priest, “Why, father, what makes you stand there? Draw near and reach a bit, for Don Diego treats us all.” No sooner were the words spoken but he sat down. When my master perceived that they had all intruded upon him he began to be much concerned. They divided the spoil, giving Don Diego some few bones to pick; the rest the curate and the others devoured. The bullies said, “Pray, sir, do not eat too much supper, lest it does you harm”; and the devil of a scholar answered, “Besides, sir, you must begin to practice to be abstemious considering the life you are to lead at Alcalá.” I and the other servant prayed heartily that God would put it into their hearts to leave something; and when they had devoured every bit, and the curate was picking the bones over again, one of the bullies turned about, and said, “God bless us, we have left nothing for the servants; come hither, gentlemen. Here, landlord, give them all the house affords; take this pistole to pay for it.” Up started immediately my master’s confounded imaginary kinsman, I mean the scholar, saying, “With your leave, good sir, I must tell you, I fear your breeding is not much; it is a sign you are not acquainted with my cousin; he will provide for his own servants and for ours too, if we had any, as he has done for us.” “Be not in a passion, sir,” replied the other, “we did not know so much before.” When I saw all this sly dissimulation, I began to curse them and thought I should never