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

He laid hold of what I said in a passion, and cried, “To compare with me; by this light! no more can García de Paredes, Julian Romero, nor others as great as they! Damn all they did, there was no cannon in their days. The devil take me, Bernardo would be a mere chicken now. Pray, sir, do you but inquire in the Low Countries about the exploit performed by the person that wanted a tooth in front, and you will hear what they say of it.” “Are you the person, sir?” said I. And he replied, “Why, who do you think it was? Do you not see here is a breach in my teeth? But let us talk no more of it, for it does not become a man to praise himself.” This discourse held us along till we overtook a hermit riding on an ass, with a long beard like a brush, lean, and clad in sackcloth. We saluted him as usual with the words Deo Gratias; and he began to extol the corn on the ground, and in it the mercies of God. The soldier immediately flew out, and said, “Father, I have seen pikes charged against me thicker than that corn; and I vow to God, I did all that man could do at the sacking of Antwerp, that I did by the Lord!” The hermit reproved him for swearing so much, and he answered, “It is a sign you were never a soldier, Father, since you reprove me for exercising my calling.” It made me laugh to hear what he made soldiery to consist in, and perceived he was some scoundrel, who knew little of that noble profession, but that infamous part most used by the scum of those that follow it.

We came at length to the pass in the mountains, the hermit praying all the way on a pair of beads so big, it was a load; and every bead he dropped sounded like a stroke with a mallet. The soldier compared the rocks to the forts he pretended to have seen, observed what place was strong, and where the cannon might be planted for battery. I had my eyes fixed on them both, and was as much afraid of the hermit’s monstrous beads as of the soldier’s extravagant lies. “How easily,” said he, “would I blow up a great part of this pass with gunpowder, and do all travellers good service.” Thus we came to Cerecedilla, and went into an inn all three of us, after nightfall; we ordered supper, though it was Friday, and in the meanwhile the hermit said, “Let us divert ourselves awhile, for idleness is the source of all vice. Let us play for Ave Marias;” and so saying, he dropped a pack of cards out of his sleeve. I could not but laugh at that pleasant sight, considering the great beads; but the soldier cried, “Let us have a friendly game as far as an hundred reals will go I have about me.” Being covetous, I said I would venture the like sum, and the hermit, rather than disoblige, consented, telling us he had about two hundred reals to buy oil for the lamp. I must confess I thought to have sucked up all his oil, but may the Turk always succeed as I did. We played at lanskenet, and the best of it was he pretended that he did not understand the game, and made us teach it him. He let us win for two deals, but then turned so sharp upon us, that he left us bare, and became our heir before we were dead. The dog palmed upon us so slyly, it was a shame to see him; he would now and then let us draw a single stake, and then double it upon us. The soldier, every card he lost, let fly half a score oaths, and twice as many curses, wrapped up in blasphemies. For my part, I was eating my nails, whilst the hermit drew my money to him. He called upon all the saints in heaven, and in short left us penniless. We would have played on upon some little pledges, but when he had won my six hundred reals and the soldier’s hundred, he said that was only for pastime, and we were all brethren, and therefore he would not meddle any farther. “Do not swear,” said he, “for you see I have had good luck, because I prayed to God.” We believed him, as not knowing the sleight he had at packing the cards; the soldier swore he would never play again, and so did I. “A curse on it,” cried the poor ensign, for he then told me he was so; “I have been among Turks and infidels, but was never so stripped.” The good hermit laughed at all we said, and pulled out his beads again. Having never a stiver left, I desired him to treat me at supper, and pay for our lodgings till we came to Segovia, since he had cleared our pockets. He promised so to do, devoured threescore eggs, the like I never beheld, and said he would go take his rest. We all lay in a great hall among other people, all the rooms being taken up before. I lay down very melancholy. The soldier called the landlord, and gave him charge of his papers in the tin cases, and a bundle of tattered shirts, and so we went to sleep. The hermit made the sign of the cross, and we blessed ourselves from him.

He slept, and I watched, contriving how to get his money from him. The soldier talked in his sleep about his hundred reals, as if they had not been past retrieving. When it was time to rise, he called hastily for a light, which was brought, and the landlord gave the soldier his bundle, but forgot his papers. The poor ensign made the house ring, calling