CHAPTER VI.
TOLEDO—ITS FLEAS, LANDLORDS, ANTIQUITIES, AND LUNATICS.
Ignorant of the state of civilization in the ancient city of Toledo, the capital of Gothic Spain, the glory of the Jews and the Moors when they lived luxuriously on its airy heights, we had imagined it easy enough to find lodgings for a night. Unconscious of the fate awaiting us, we put up at the Hotel Lino, the largest and best in the city; and here we sought sleep. The search was vain. For the fleas are always going about seeking whom they may devour. We fell a prey to them and to the landlords too. Surviving the bloody night, we left a weary, wretched bed at eight in the morning, and ordered breakfast with coffee. At nine it was announced as ready. In the room where it was served three waiters attended us, each one smoking a cigar in our faces, as we sat and they stood around. The coffee was not on the table. On asking for it we were told there was none in the house.
“And is there none in Toledo?”
“Perhaps so.”
“Well, we will wait until you bring it. Give us some butter.”
“There is no butter in the house.”
“Is there none in Toledo?”
“None that is fit to eat; it is all rancid.”
TOLEDO.