Pablo de Segovia, the Spanish Sharper by Francisco de Quevedo (e book reading free TXT) 📕
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Francisco de Quevedo holds the status of a man-of-letters in the same pantheon as Cervantes; but despite that, Pablo de Segovia is his only novel. Quevedo had circulated the manuscript privately for several years before it was published in 1626 without his permission. The novel is partly a satire of contemporary Spanish life, and a caricature of the various social strata Pablo encounters and emulates.
Pablo himself is a low-born person who aspires to become a gentleman, but despite his best efforts he repeatedly fails and is eventually forced to become a “sharper,” or rogue. His failures give Quevedo an avenue to expound on his belief that attempting to break past your social class can only lead to disorder; and that despite one’s best efforts, bettering oneself is largely impossible. Pablo’s stumbling from misfortune to misfortune is a farce that helped cement Quevedo’s reputation as a literary giant.
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- Author: Francisco de Quevedo
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In short, I never left them till they were all fast asleep; then I went abroad, and spent the afternoon in seeing the town; I passed by Cabra’s house, and heard he was dead, but never asked of what distemper, knowing he could die of none as long as it was possible to starve. At night I returned home, full four hours after I had gone out, and found one of the company awake, crawling about the room on all-four to find the door, and complaining he had lost the house. I raised him up, and let the rest sleep till eleven at night, when they awaked of themselves, stretching and yawning. One of them asked, “What o’clock it was?” The swineherd, who had not laid half his fumes, answered, “It was still afternoon, and the weather piping hot.” The beggar, as well as he could speak, asked for his cloak, saying, “The distressed families had been long neglected, the whole care of their souls lying upon his hands;” and thinking to go to the door, he went to the window, where seeing the stars, he cried out to the others, telling them, “That the sky was hill of stars at noonday, and there was a mighty eclipse.” They all blessed themselves, and kissed the ground. Having observed the villainy of the beggar, I was much scandalized, and resolved to take heed of that sort of men. The sight of all these abominable practices made me the more impatient to be among gentlemen and persons of worth. I got them all away one by one, the best I could, and put my uncle to bed, who, though not foxed, was drunk enough, and made the best shift I could myself, with my own clothes, and some of the poor departed souls’ that lay about the room. Thus we passed the night, and in the morning I discoursed my uncle about seeing my inheritance and taking possession of it, telling him I was quite tired, and knew not with what. He stretched one leg out of bed, and got up; we had much talk concerning my affairs, and I had enough to do with him, he was so tipsy and dull. At length I prevailed with him to tell me of part or my inheritance, though not all; and so he told me of three hundred ducats my worthy father had got by sleight of hand, and left them in custody of a decent woman, that was the receiver of all that was stolen for ten leagues round the country. To be short, I received and pouched my money, which my uncle had not yet drank out, nor consumed; and that was very much, considering he was such a brutal man; but the reason was, he thought it would serve me to take my degrees, and, with a little learning, I might come to be a cardinal, which to him seemed no difficult matter. When he understood I had the money, he said to me, “My child, Pablo, it will be your own fault if you do not thrive and are not a good man since you have a good example before you. You have got money, and I will always be your friend, for all I have and all I earn is yours.” I returned him thanks for his kind offers. We spent the day in extravagant talk, and in returning visits to the aforesaid persons. They passed the afternoon playing at knuckle-bones, the same company—my uncle, the swineherd, and the beggar, this last squandering the money of the poor at a villainous rate. It was wonderful to see how dexterous they were at it, catching them up in the air and shaking them up as they fell on the wrist. Night came on, the guests went away, and my uncle and I to bed, for he had now got me a quilt. When it was day, I got up before he was awake, and went away, without being perceived, to an inn, locking the door on the outside, and thrusting in the key at a cranny. I went away, as I have said, to an inn, to hide myself, and wait the next opportunity to go to Madrid. I left him a letter sealed up in the room, wherein I gave an account of my departure, and the reasons that moved me so to do, desiring he would make no inquiry after me, for I would never see him more.
XIIOf my flight from Segovia, with what happened to me by the way to Madrid.
A carrier was setting out that morning with a load from the inn for Madrid. He had a spare ass, which I hired, and went before to wait for him without the city gate. He came accordingly; I
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