Episode 8

In this manner did my master likewise lament his adverse fortune, giving me an account of his worthy person.

While we were upon this, a man and an old woman entered through the door: the man demanded the rent of the house, and the old woman that of the bed. They cast up their account, and for two months apiece they claimed of him what he could not have paid in a year—methinks it was twelve or thirteen reals. And he gave them a very courteous answer: that he would step out into the square to change a piece of two, and that they should return in the afternoon. But his departure was without return. So that in the afternoon they came back, but it was late. I told them that he had not yet returned. Night having fallen and he not appearing, I was afraid to remain in the house alone, and went to our neighbors, told them the matter, and slept there. When morning came, the creditors returned and inquired for their neighbor, but at the other door. The women answered them: “Here is his servant and the key of the door.”

They questioned me concerning him, and I told them that I knew not where he was, nor had he returned home since he went out to change the coin, and that I believed he had vanished from them and me together with the change. When they heard this from me, they went for a constable and a scrivener. And lo, they returned straightway with them, took the key, summoned me, called witnesses, opened the door, and entered to attach my master’s goods until their debt was satisfied. They searched the whole house and found it as bare of goods as I have described; and they said unto me:

“What has become of thy master’s goods—his chests, his wall hangings, and household gear?”

“I know naught of that,” answered I.

“Doubtless,” said they, “they must have carried them off by night and taken them to some hiding place. Master Constable, arrest this lad, for he knows where they are!”

Thereupon the constable came forward and seized me by the collar of my doublet, saying:

“Boy, thou art a prisoner unless thou discoverest the goods of this master of thine!”

I, having never found myself in such a plight—for seized by the collar I had been many and infinite times, yet it was ever gently done to show the way to him who saw not—felt great terror, and weeping, promised to tell them whatever they asked.

“Very good,” said they; “tell all thou knowest, and fear nothing.”

The scrivener seated himself upon a stone bench to write the inventory, asking me what property he had.

“Sirs,” said I, “what this master of mine possesses, according as he told me, is a very fine site for houses and a ruined dovecote.”

“Very good,” said they. “However little that be worth, there will be enough to pay our debt. And in what quarter of the city does he have that?” asked they of me.

“In his own country,” answered I.

“By God, this is a fine piece of business!” said they. “And where is his country?”

“He told me that he was of Old Castile,” said I.

The constable and the scrivener laughed heartily, saying:

“A sufficient account is this to recover your debt withal, even were it a better one!”

The neighbor women who were present said:

“Gentlemen, this is an innocent child, and it is but few days since he took service with this squire, and knows no more of him than your worships do, save that the poor sinner comes here to our house, and we give him to eat what we can for God’s sake, and at night he would go to sleep with him.”

Seeing my innocence, they let me go, pronouncing me free. And the constable and scrivener demanded their fees of the man and woman, over which they had a great dispute and clamor, for the creditors alleged they were not bound to pay, seeing there was nothing to seize and no attachment was made. The others replied that they had abandoned other business of greater moment to attend to this. Finally, after many loud words, in the end a catchpole carried off the old woman’s old coverlet, though it was not a heavy load. Away went all five shouting at each other. I know not how it ended: I believe the sinful coverlet paid for them all; and it was well employed, for at the season when it ought to have rested and taken its ease after past hardships, it was going about letting itself out for hire.

In this manner, as I have related, did my poor third master leave me, wherein I came to know my wretched fortune to the full: which, exerting all its malice against me, ordered my affairs so contrariwise that, whereas masters are usually left by their servants, with me it was not so, but my master left me and fled from me.

Fourth Treatise

How Lázaro took service with a friar of the Order of Mercy, and of what befell him with him

I had to seek a fourth master, and this was a friar of the Order of Mercy, to whom the good women aforesaid directed me, whom they called their kinsman: a great enemy of the choir and of eating in the monastery, crazy to be gadding abroad, exceedingly fond of secular business and paying visits, so much so that methinks he wore out more shoes than all the rest of the monastery together. He gave me the first shoes I ever wore out in my life; but they lasted me not eight days, nor could I endure his galloping pace any longer. And for this cause, and for certain other trifles which I mention not, I parted from him.

Fifth Treatise

How Lázaro took service with a seller of indulgences, and of the things that befell him with him

In my fifth master my fortune placed me, who was a seller of indulgences—the most shameless, impudent, and greatest hawker of them that ever I saw or hope to see, or that I think any man ever beheld; for he possessed and sought out arts and devices and very subtle inventions.

On entering the towns where they were to publish the papal bulls, he first presented the priests or curates with certain small matters—not of great value or substance either: a Murcian lettuce, if it was in season, a couple of limes or oranges, a peach, a pair of nectarines, or green pears for each. Thus did he strive to make them favorable, so that they might support his business and urge their parishioners to buy the bulls.

When they returned thanks to him, he informed himself of their learning. If they claimed to understand Latin, he spoke not a word of it, lest he should stumble; but made use of a graceful and well-turned Castilian and an exceedingly fluent tongue. And if he learned that the said priests were of the reverend sort—ordained, I mean, rather by money than by letters and reverend testimonials—he became a Saint Thomas among them, and spoke two hours together in Latin: at least, what appeared to be such, though it was not.

When they took not the bulls by fair means, he sought how they might be taken by foul; and to that end he caused vexations to the people, and at other times used crafty stratagems. And because it would be tedious to recount all the tricks I saw him perform, I will relate one very subtle and comical, whereby I will prove his dexterity.

In a village of the Sagra of Toledo he had preached two or three days, using his customary diligence, and they had taken not a single bull, nor in my judgment had they any intention of taking one. He was at his wit’s end with vexation, and considering what to do, resolved to summon the town for the following morning, to take leave of the bull.

And that night, after supper, he and the constable sat down to play for their collation; and over the game they fell to quarreling and exchanging evil words. He called the constable a thief, and the other called him a counterfeiter. Thereupon my master the commissioner seized a partisan that stood in the portal where they played. The constable laid his hand upon the sword at his belt. At the noise and shouting we all raised, the guests and neighbors ran up and stepped between them; and they, in great fury, strove to free themselves from those who parted them, to kill one another. But as the people crowded in at the great uproar and filled the house, seeing they could not attack with weapons, they hurled abusive words at each other; among which the constable told my master that he was a counterfeiter, and that the bulls he preached were false.

Finally, the townspeople, seeing they could not reconcile them, resolved to lead the constable from the inn to another place. And so my master remained in great wrath; and after the guests and neighbors had entreated him to lay aside his anger and go to sleep, he went to bed. And so we all turned in.

When morning came, my master went to the church and bade them toll for mass and the sermon, to take leave of the bull. And the townspeople assembled, murmuring among themselves concerning the bulls, saying that they were false and that the constable himself had revealed it in the brawl; so that, whereas they had little liking to take them before, they now utterly abhorred them.

My master the commissioner mounted the pulpit and began his sermon, encouraging the people not to remain without so great a blessing and indulgence as the holy bull brought. While he was in the best of his sermon, the constable entered by the church door; and having said a prayer, he arose, and with a loud, measured, and grave voice began to speak:

“Good people, hear me a word, and afterward hear whom you will. I came hither with this cheat who preaches to you, who deceived me and bade me favor him in this business, promising that we should divide the gain. And now, seeing the injury it would do to my conscience and to your goods, repenting of what I have done, I declare plainly to you that the bulls he preaches are false, and that you should neither believe him nor take them; and that I have neither directly nor indirectly any part in them, and from this hour I cast down my staff of justice upon the ground; and if at any time this fellow be punished for his forgery, do you bear witness that I am not in league with him nor give him any aid, but rather disabuse you and declare his wickedness.”

And with that he ended his speech. Certain honorable men who were present wished to rise and thrust the constable forth from the church, to avoid scandal. But my master restrained them, commanding all present, upon pain of excommunication, not to hinder him, but to suffer him to speak whatever he pleased. And so he also kept silence while the constable spoke all I have related.

When the constable held his peace, my master asked him whether he had more to say, that he might speak it. The constable said:

“There is plenty more to say of thee and thy falsehood, but for the present this is enough.”

The commissioner knelt down in the pulpit, and clasping his hands and looking up to heaven, spoke in this wise:

“O Lord God, unto whom nothing is hidden, but all things are manifest, and unto whom nothing is impossible, but all things possible: Thou knowest the truth, and how unjustly I am insulted. As for what touches me, I forgive him, that Thou, O Lord, mayest forgive me. Look not upon him who knows not what he does or says; but the injury done unto Thee, I beseech Thee and by justice require Thee not to pass by: for someone here present, who perchance intended to take this holy bull, giving credit to that man’s false words, will now neglect to do so. And since this is of such great hurt unto our neighbor, I beseech Thee, O Lord, dissemble not, but straightway show a miracle here; and let it be in this manner: that if what that man says be true, and that I bring wickedness and falsehood, let this pulpit sink beneath me and plunge seven fathoms deep into the earth, where neither it nor I may ever appear again. But if what I say be true, and he, persuaded of the devil to deprive those here present of so great a blessing, speaks malice, let him likewise be punished and his wicked deceit known unto all!”

Scarcely had my devout master ended his prayer when the wretched constable fell headlong, striking the ground with such a crash that the whole church echoed; and he began to roar and foam at the mouth, twisting his face, making hideous grimaces, kicking and thrashing with hands and feet, rolling upon the pavement from one side to the other. The uproar and clamor of the people were so great that they could not hear one another. Some were terrified and trembling. Some cried: