CHAP. XI. Guzman becomes disgusted with his situation, leaves the Inn, and repairs to Madrid, where he associates with some beggars.

Besides that I was of too flighty a disposition to be long contented in the same way of life, I could not consider the one that I now led by any means suitable to a spirited lad who had left his mother’s house, for the sole purpose of seeing the world. In addition to this, the servant of an innkeeper ranked lower, in my opinion, than that of a blind beggar. I saw every day boys of about my own age and size pass our door, who, after having asked alms, went gaily along the road again. This sight roused my feelings: “what,” said I to myself, “does the dread of hunger hold me here, while these young fellows, who have no more resolution than I ought to be master of, expose themselves courageously to hunger and thirst? I am in all probability as well deserving as they, and ought not, therefore, to be less courageous.” These reflections inspired me with resolution, and, defying fortune, I again set out for Madrid, after having demanded my dismissal of my master, who gave me three reals for my services during the time I had been with him.

With this money and the little I had saved from the liberality of our customers, I was able to advance as far as the celebrated bridge of Arcolis upon Zagus, whence I pursued my route as the others had done, by holding out my hand in every village through which I passed, and to every gentleman I met; but the harvest had been so extremely bad that year, that people in general were but little disposed to be charitable. I was therefore soon obliged to sell my clothes; so that I cut a most elegant figure when I reached that celebrated capital of Spain. I was reduced to a tattered pair of breeches, with a shirt black and torn, a pair of stockings with a thousand holes in them, and shoes which had no other soles than those of my feet. I looked more like a fellow just escaped from the galleys, than a gentleman’s son of good family; and could not possibly hope to be employed in any gentleman’s service, which was now the height of my ambition. My miserable appearance was not calculated to prepossess any one in my favour, and he must have been a bold man indeed who could have made up his mind to admit me into his house. No one could look at me attentively without saying in his own mind, there is a young chap who only wants the opportunity to perform some desperate trick. At length, finding that my appearance was such, that no one would receive me either as page, footman, or even as a turnspit, I turned my eyes towards a company of beggars whom I perceived at a church door. I considered them with attention, and they seemed so healthy and void of care, that I thought I could not do better than enrol myself in their company. I joined them accordingly, and was received by them as a member whose mien and equipage were not unworthy of their fraternity.

Before I reached Madrid I had taken good care to leave all my modesty on the road, as a load too heavy for a foot passenger to carry about with him. If I had not ere this got rid of this cruel enemy to hunger, I should soon have lost every spark of it in the company of these good folks, who were severally and collectively the most complete birds of prey. I followed them every where, acting as a sort of assistant to them, until I should become sufficiently experienced to contribute my share towards making the pot boil, in which there never failed to be plenty. Twice a day we had a fine dish of soup, of which I was sure to partake, provided I attended punctually to the hours of dinner and supper, otherwise being only an underling, I should have found nothing but the empty turine for my share.

After supper we generally sat down to play; I soon learned the games of Quince, one and thirty, quinola and primera, with a thousand tricks on the cards. I had so happy a knack, and my disposition was so well suited to this science, that I made visible progress under these excellent masters. Little as I was, I felt desirous to imitate some of my companions, who, lest they should be punished as vagrants, posted themselves with baskets in the different markets, offering the citizens to carry home for them the provisions they might purchase. This employment appeared rather laborious to me at first, but I soon got so well accustomed to it, that I thought no man’s lot preferable to my own. “How charming,” thought I, “to live thus in plenty, without being obliged to use either needle or thread, the hammer or the thimble; nothing but a basket and a little industry being necessary for subsistence! The life of a beggar is a delicacy without bone, an uninterrupted stream of pleasure, an employment exempt from trouble and vexation. How void of sense must my ancestors have been to have taken so much pains to live in wretchedness! In how many perplexities have they been involved for the sake of supporting their commerce and reputation! O absurd honour of this world, thou art but a millstone to sink such fools as consent to be burdened with thee!”

One day as I was carrying home a quarter of mutton in my basket for an honest shoemaker who walked before me, I picked up a paper which I perceived lying in the street, containing some verses of an old ballad, which I began to read and sing to myself. The shoe-maker, surprised to hear me, said with a smile: “what, you ill-looking little dog, can you read?” “And write too,” answered I. “Is it possible?” cried he, much astonished. “If you will teach me merely to sign my name, I will pay you well for your trouble.” I asked of what possible use the knowing how to sign his name only could be to him, and he told me that having obtained a good situation through the influence of a certain person, whom he named, whose family he had supplied with shoes gratis, he should be glad to be able to sign his name when necessary, that he might not be obliged to confess that he could not write.

As soon as we entered his house he caused pen, ink, and paper to be brought, and I commenced my occupation of writing-master, showing my scholar how to hold his pen, and guiding his hand. I then made him form the letters that composed his name so many times over, that he fancied he had already acquired the elements of the art of writing. After having scribbled over and blotted five or six sheets of paper, he was so well satisfied, that he made me try on a pair of new shoes, which fitted as if they had been made for me, and which he presented me with: I then took leave of him, assuring him, that whenever I wanted a new pair of shoes, I would call and give some further lessons to make him quite perfect in his writing.