I must confess, I was much troubled at this fresh disgrace, and yet, in some measure, I was glad of it, for the scandalous lives of parents make their greatest misfortunes a comfort to their children. I went away hastily to Don Diego, who was then reading his father’s letter, in which he ordered him to leave the university and return home, but not to take me with him, because of the account he had received of my trickiness. He told me he must be gone, and how his father commanded him to part with me, which he was sorry for; and I was so much more. He added, he would recommend me to another gentleman, his friend, to serve him. I smiled, and answered, “Sir, the case is altered; I have other designs in my head, and aim at greater matters, so that I must take another course; for though hitherto I was at the foot of the ladder, in order to mount, you must understand that my father has got up to the top of it.” With this I told how bravely he had died, at his full stretch; how he was carved out, and served up as a feast to the birds of the air. That my good uncle, the executioner, had sent me the whole account, and acquainted me with my mammy’s confinement; for I could be plain with him, because he knew all my pedigree. He seemed to be much concerned, and asked how I intended to bestow myself. I informed him of all my resolutions and so the very next day he went away for Segovia, very melancholy, and I stayed in the house, without taking the least notice of my misfortune. I burned the letter, for fear it might be dropped, and somebody read it, and began to provide for my journey to Segovia, designing to take possession of what was my due, and to know my kindred, that I might shun them.
