The Life of Lazarillo de Tormes: His Fortunes & Adversities; with a Notice of the Mendoza Family, a Short Life of the Author, Don Diego Hurtado De Mendoza, a Notice of the Work, and Some Remarks on the Character of Lazarillo de TormesAnonymous
General
The Life of Lazarillo de Tormes: His Fortunes & Adversities; with a Notice of the Mendoza Family, a Short Life of the Author, Don Diego Hurtado De Mendoza, a Notice of the Work, and Some Remarks on the Character of Lazarillo de Tormes
Anonymous
Picaresque fiction; Spanish fiction -- Translations into English
As the rain continued and he was getting wet, we were in a hurry to
get shelter from the water that was falling upon us. The principal
thing was (seeing that God blinded my understanding in that hour) to
be avenged. The old man believed in me and said, “Put me in the right
place while you jump over the stream.” So I put him just in front of
the pillar, and placed myself behind it. I then said, “Jump with all
your might so as to clear the stream.” I had hardly finished speaking,
when the poor old man, balancing himself like a goat, gave one step
backwards, and then sprang with all his force. His head came with
such a noise against the pillar that it sounded like a great calabash.
He fell down half dead. “How was it you could smell the sausage and
not the post? Oh! Oh!” I shouted. [Sidenote: Lazaro leaves his first
master.] I left him among several people who ran to help him, while I
made for the gate of the town at a sharp trot, so that before nightfall
I might be in Torrijos, not knowing nor caring what afterwards happened
to my blind man.[20]
[20] The “pillar” was a stone cross which still stands in the
_plaza_ of Escalona.
[Illustration]
SECOND MASTER
HOW LAZARO TOOK SERVICE WITH A CLERGYMAN, AND OF THE THINGS THAT
HAPPENED TO HIM.
[Sidenote: The clergyman’s chest.]
Next day, as I did not feel that I should be quite safe at
Torrijos,[21] I stopped at a place called Maqueda,[22] where for my
sins I took service with a clergyman. Going to him to ask for alms, he
inquired whether I knew how to assist at Mass. I said yes, which was
true, for though the blind man ill-treated me, he taught me many useful
things, and one of them was this. Finally the clergyman took me as his
servant. [Sidenote: Out of the frying-pan into the fire.] I had escaped
from the thunder to fall under the lightning. For compared with this
priest, the blind man was an Alexander the Great. I will say no more
than that all the avarice in the world was combined in this man, but I
know not whether it was naturally born in him or whether it was put on
with the priestly habit. He had an old chest closed with a key which
he carried with him, fastened to the belt of his gown. When he brought
the “bodigos”[23] from the church, they were quickly locked up in the
chest, and there was nothing to eat in the house such as is to be seen
in other houses, a piece of bacon, some bits of cheese on a shelf or in
a cupboard, or a few pieces of bread that may have remained over from
the table. It seemed to me that the sight of such things, even if I
could not have them, would have been a consolation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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