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

having projected to stand by me to break my bones, replied, “He was obliged to go alone, and therefore desired me to leave him.”

No sooner had I parted from him, but the devil contrived that two who were lying in wait there to give him a thrashing on account of a wench, thinking, by the cloak, that I was Don Diego, fell a-cudgelling me as thick as hail; I cried out, and by my voice and face they discovered I was the wrong man, at which they ran away, and I was left with my beating, which raised three or four big lumps on my head. I had to make a halt, not daring to go into my mistress’s street a while for fear. At last about twelve, which was the time when I talked with her, I came up to the door where one of Don Diego’s friends that waited for me, being ready with a good cudgel, gave me two blows across the shins, which laid me flat on the ground; as soon as I was down, the other played his part, giving me a slash across the face from ear to ear. They then took away my cloak, and left me on the ground, saying, “This is the reward of false, deceitful, baseborn scoundrels.” I cried out for help, not knowing to whom I was beholden for that usage, though, by what they said at parting, I guessed it might perhaps be the landlord I had cheated, with the contrivance of being taken up by the Inquisition, or the gaoler I had so long imposed upon, or my companions who had fled; for, to say the truth, I expected that cut from so many places, that I could not be positive from whom it might come. Don Diego was the person I least suspected, and I was farthest from the mark; but still cried out, “Thieves! Thieves!” which at length brought the watch, who took me up, and spying a gash a foot long on my face, and that I had no cloak, nor could tell how that misfortune came, they carried me away to a surgeon’s house, where I was dressed; then they asked where I lived, and thither they conducted me. I went to bed and lay all night awake, full of remorse and confusion; my face being cut in two, my body bruised, and my legs so crippled with the cudgelling, that I could not stand nor had scarce any feeling in them. In fine, I was wounded, robbed, and in such a condition, that I could neither follow my friends, nor proceed with my marriage, nor stay in Madrid, nor get away.

VIII

Of my cure and other strange things.

The next morning, by break of day, the lady of the house appeared at my bed’s head. She was a good sort of old woman, at the years of discretion, past fifty-five, a great pair of beads in her hand, a face like a dried apple, or a walnut shell, it was so full of furrows. She had a great name in the neighbourhood, and so she lay in bed till noon when she pleased, and with as many as pleased. She promoted pleasure and contrived delight; her name was one La Guía; her trade to let lodgings at home, and hire others abroad. Her house was never without lodgers all the year round. It was pleasant to see how she instructed a young girl in veiling herself, teaching her what parts of her face she must be sure to expose to sight. If she had good teeth, she advised her to be always a-laughing, though it were at a visit of condolence; if she had fine hands, she taught her to be always playing with them; if fair hair, to have some loose locks peeping out under the veil; if good eyes, to be continually ogling; and if sparkling small ones, to shut and then open them wide, and be sure to look up. As for washes, and other cosmetics for the skin, she would make an Ethiopian as fair of complexion as a Dane; so that many women came to her, and went home so altered, that their own husbands did not know them; but her greatest art consisted in mending virgins, and making up damsels. All this I saw performed by the time I had been but eight days in the house; and to complete all, she directed the women how to pick pockets, and taught them what pretty expressions they should use. She showed them how they should wheedle a jewel out of a man; young girls were to do it by way of pleasantry and jest, ripe maids as a due, and old women as a piece of respect and obligation. She put them in the way how to beg money, and how to draw rings and other trinkets. Upon occasion, she quoted some famous ones of her own profession at Alcalá, at Burgos, and in other parts of Spain where any had gained renown in this art of cullying. I have given this account of her that I may be pitied, considering into what hands I was fallen; and the words she said to me may be the more taken notice of. She was always very fond of proverbs, and began her speech after this manner: “ ‘Where you take and not put, you soon reach the bottom’; ‘As you sow, so will you reap’; ‘As the wedding so the cake.’ My son, Don Philip, to deal plainly, I do not understand you, nor can I conceive how you live. You are young, and it is no wonder you should be somewhat wild, without considering, that even whilst we sleep, we are travelling to our end. I, who have now one foot in the grave, have the privilege to tell you so much. It is very odd I should be told that you spent much money,