I was quite mad to eat my dinner, receive what was due, and get as far as I could from my uncle. The cloth was laid, and the meat drawn up in an old hat, as they draw up the alms that is given in prisons. It was dished up in broken platters, and pieces of old crocks and pans, being dressed in a stinking cellar, which was still more plague and confusion to me. They sat down, the beggar at the upper end, and the rest as it fell out. I will not tell what we ate, but only that they were all dainties to encourage drinking. The mulatto, in a trice, poured down three pints of pure red. The swineherd seeing the cup stand at me, still whipt it off, pledging more healths than we spoke words; no man called for water, or so much as thought of it. Five good meat pasties were served up; they raised the crusts, and taking a holy-water sprinkler, said a short prayer for the soul to whom the flesh belonged. Then said my uncle, “You remember, nephew, what I wrote to you about your father; it now comes afresh into my mind.” They all ate, but I took up only with the bottoms, and ever since then I have retained the custom of saying a prayer for the soul departed when I eat meat pies. The pots went round without ceasing, and the mulatto and the beggar plied it so hard, that a dish of scurvy sausages, looking like fingers of blacks cut off, being set upon the table, one of them asked what they meant by serving up dressed charcoal? My uncle by this time was in such a condition, up to the throat in wine, with one eye almost out and the other half drowned, that laying hold of one of the sausages, in a hoarse and broken voice, he said, “By this bread, which is God’s creature, made to his own image and likeness, I never ate better black meat, nephew.” It made me laugh with one side of my mouth, and fret with the other, to see the mulatto, stretching out his hand, lay hold of the salt-dish, and cry, “This pottage is hot;” and at the same time the swineherd took a whole handful of salt, and clapping it into his mouth, said, “This is a pretty provocative for drinking.” After all this medley there came some soup, so orderly was our entertainment. The beggar laying hold of a porringer with both hands, cried, “God’s blessing on cleanliness;” and instead of clapping of it to his mouth, laid it to his cheek, where he poured it down, scalding his face and washing himself in grease from head to foot, in a most shameful manner. Being in this miserable plight, he tried to get up, but his head being too heavy, he was fain to rest with both his hands upon the table, which was only a board set upon two tressels, so that it overturned and begrimed all the rest; and then he cried that the swineherd had pushed him. The swineherd seeing the other fall upon him, scrambled up, and laying hold of his horn trumpet, beat it about his ears. They grappled and clung so close together that the beggar set his teeth in the swineherd’s cheek, and both of them rolling on the ground, made such a wambling in the swineherd’s belly, that he cast up all he had ate and drunk in the beggar’s face. My uncle, who was the soberest of all the company, asked who had brought so many clergy into the house? Perceiving that they all looked through multiplying glasses, I parted the two combatants, made them friends, and helped up the mulatto, who lay on the ground maudlin drunk, and weeping bitterly. I laid my uncle on his bed, who made a low bow to a tall wooden candlestick he had, thinking it had been one of his guests. Next I took away the swineherd’s horn, but there was no silencing him after all the rest were asleep; he was still calling for his horn, and said, “No man ever could play more tunes on it, and he would now imitate the organ.”
In short, I never left them till they were all fast asleep; then I went abroad, and spent the afternoon in seeing the town; I passed by Cabra’s house, and heard he was dead, but never asked of what distemper, knowing he could die of none as long as it was possible to starve. At night I returned home, full four hours after I had gone out, and found one of the company awake, crawling about the room on all-four to find the door, and complaining he had lost the house. I raised him up, and let the rest sleep till eleven at night, when they awaked of themselves, stretching and yawning. One of them asked, “What a clock it was?” The swineherd, who had not laid half his fumes, answered, “It was still afternoon, and the weather piping hot.” The beggar, as well as he could speak, asked for his cloak, saying, “The distressed families had been long neglected, the whole care of their souls lying upon his hands;” and thinking to go to the door, he went to the window, where seeing the stars, he cried out to the others, telling them, “That the sky was hill of stars at noonday, and there was a mighty eclipse.” They all blessed themselves, and kissed the ground. Having observed the villainy of the beggar, I was much scandalized, and resolved to take heed of that sort of men. The sight of all these abominable practices made me the more impatient to be among gentlemen and persons of worth. I got them all away one by one, the best I could, and put my uncle to bed, who, though not foxed, was drunk enough, and made the best shift I could myself, with my own clothes, and some of the poor departed souls’ that lay about the room. Thus we passed the night, and in the morning I discoursed my uncle about seeing my inheritance and taking possession of it, telling him I was quite tired, and knew not with what. He stretched one leg out of bed, and got up; we had much talk concerning my affairs, and I had enough to do with him, he was so tipsy and dull. At length I prevailed with him to tell me of part or my inheritance, though not all; and so he told me of three hundred ducats my worthy father had got by sleight of hand, and left them in custody of a decent woman, that was the receiver of all that was stolen for ten leagues round the country. To be short, I received and pouched my money, which my uncle had not yet drank out, nor consumed; and that was very much, considering he was such a brutal man; but the reason was, he thought it would serve me to take my degrees, and, with a little learning, I might come to be a cardinal, which to him seemed no difficult matter. When he understood I had the money, he said to me, “My child, Pablo, it will be your own fault if you do not thrive and are not a good man since you have a good example before you. You have got money, and I will always be your friend, for all I have and all I earn is yours.” I returned him thanks for his kind offers. We spent the day in extravagant talk, and in returning visits to the aforesaid persons. They passed the afternoon playing at knuckle-bones, the same company—my uncle, the swineherd, and the beggar, this last squandering the money of the poor at a villainous rate. It was wonderful to see how dexterous they were at it, catching them up in the air and shaking them up as they fell on the wrist. Night came on, the guests went away, and my uncle and I to bed, for he had now got me a quilt. When it was day, I got up before he was awake, and went away, without being perceived, to an inn, locking the door on the outside, and thrusting in the key at a cranny. I went away, as I have said, to an inn, to hide myself, and wait the next opportunity to go to Madrid. I left him a letter sealed up in the room, wherein I gave an account of my departure, and the reasons that moved me so to do, desiring he would make no inquiry after me, for I would never see him more.
