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

my own master. Let me know when I may have speech with you, and when I shall know when I may be happy, etc.”

The runner carried the note, the good nun was wonderfully pleased to hear of my change of life, and answered me as follows:⁠—

“I rather expect to be congratulated than to congratulate you on your good fortune; for my wishes and your prosperity are inseparable. You may be looked upon as recovered out of a desperate estate; it only remains that you persevere, as I shall do. I question whether there will be any liberty at the grate today; but do not fail to come at evensong, for there at least we shall see one another, and perhaps I may find means to put some trick upon the lady abbess.

Farewell.”

I liked the note, for the woman was really witty, and very handsome. After dinner I put on the best suit I used to act the gallant in on the stage, went to church, pretended to pray, and then began to examine every inch of the grating and veil before the choir, to see if I could discover her. At length it pleased God I had the good fortune, or rather the devil contrived me the ill luck, that I heard the old sign; I began to cough, she answered⁠—it was a cough of Barabbas. We followed each other in the catarrh, and it seemed as if they had strewn pepper in the church. At last, when I was quite weary of coughing, a wheezy old woman appeared at the grate, and I discovered my mistake; for this is a very uncertain sign in a convent, because, as it serves for a sign among young ones, it is habitual with old ones, and when a man thinks it a call to catch a nightingale, he finds nothing but an owl. I stayed a long time in the church, till evensong began, which I heard out, for the admirers of nuns have this madness, besides all the rest, that they must play the hypocrite and pray against their will; besides that, they never go beyond the eve, being ever in expectation, but the day of enjoyment never comes. I never failed being at evensong, and stretched out my neck a handful longer than it was, to endeavour to see into the choir. The sacristan and clerk were my constant companions, and I was well received by the vicar, who was a pleasant man, and walked as stiff and upright as if a spit had been run through him. I went by times to take my place in a court the nuns’ windows looked into, where it was comical to see the strange postures of others, as mad pretenders as myself. One gazed without ever so much as winking; another stood with one hand on his sword, and his beads on the other, like a statue upon a tomb; another with his arms stretched out as if he were flying; some gaping, as if they would have had their hearts fly out at their mouths; some leaning against the walls, as if they had come to support them; some walking as if to be bought for their pacing, like horses; and others with billets doux in their hands, like falconers, to bring the hawk to the lure. The jealous lovers were in another band; some smiling, and gazing up at their mistresses; others reading verses, and showing them; one, pacing the terrace with a damsel in hand out of pique; another, talking to a suborned servant-maid, who was giving him a letter. All this was below where we were, but above the place for the nuns was a little old tower, all full of cracks, chinks, and peeping holes, where appeared nothing but a confusion⁠—here a hand, there a foot, in another place a head, in another a handkerchief, a glove, or the like; some walked, others coughed, and so everyone had her particular way. In summer it is pleasant enough to see the men so parched and the women so cool. In winter some of us stay so long in the wet that we are mouldy, and the moss grows upon us; neither snow nor rain can drive us away; and all this is only to see a woman through a grate and a glass, like some holy relic, or curious piece of workmanship, for that is all we can ever expect. It is just like falling in love with a blackbird in a cage, if ever she talks; or with a fine picture, if she does not. The greatest favour ever to be attained is to touch the ends of the fingers. They lean their heads against the double grates, and shoot volleys of fine conceits through those loopholes. ’Tis perfect love at hide and seek, and yet for this we study to talk fine and whisper, must endure every old woman that chides, every doorkeeper that commands, and everyone at the wheel that gives what answer she pleases.

I had followed this cursed employment so long that I was well looked upon by the lady abbess, civilly treated by the good priest, and a familiar with the clerk, for we hid our folly from them; and this is all the happiness such madmen can aspire to. I began to be weary of the doorkeeper’s turning me away, and of the nuns begging, and methought how dear I endeavoured to purchase a place in hell, which others have at so easy a rate, and that I even anticipated to take share of it in this world by such extravagant means. It was plain that I rode post to perdition, and threw away my soul only for a few looks. When I talked to her, for fear of being overheard by the rest, I used to thrust my head so close to the grate, that the print of it would not come out in two days, and at the