Pablo de Segovia, the Spanish Sharper by Francisco de Quevedo (e book reading free TXT) 📕

effort as a poet in a little ballad, and then wrote a small farce, which was well approved of. Next I ventured a play, and that it might not escape being a thing divine, made it all of devotion, and full of the Blessed Virgin. It began with music, had fine shows of souls in purgatory, and devils appearing, as was the fashion then, with old gibberish when they appeared, and strange shrieks when they vanished. The mob was mightily pleased with my rhymes about Satan, and my long discourses about his falling from Heaven, and suchlike. In short the play was acted, and well liked. I had more business than I could turn my hands to, for all sorts of lovers flocked to me, some would have songs on their mistress’s eyes, others on their foreheads, others on their white hands, and others on their golden locks. There was a set price for everything; but I sold cheap to draw the more custom, because there were other shops besides mine. As for godly ballads, I supplied all the country clerks and runners of monasteries; and the blind men were my best friends, for they never allowed less than eighty reals, and I always took care they should be bombastic, and stuffed with cramp words, which neither they nor I understood. I brought up many new fashions in verse, as tailors do in clothes, and was the first that concluded my songs like sermons, praying for grace in this world and glory in the next.

Thus was I happy, with the wind blowing fair as I could wish, my pockets full of money, highly in vogue, and in such a prosperous condition that I aimed at being chief of a company of strollers. My house was handsomely furnished, for the devil put into my head to buy the old mouldy tapestry of taverns to hang my rooms at a cheap rate, all which cost me about five or six crowns; for they afforded a better prospect than any the king has, for being so ragged you might see through any part of them, which you cannot do through any of his. The oddest thing happened to me one day that ever was heard of, which I will not forbear to make known, though it be to my shame. When I was writing a play, I used to shut myself up at home in the garret, where I kept close and dined. The maid used to bring up my dinner, and leave it there; and it was my way to act all I wrote, and talk aloud, as if I had been upon the stage. As the devil would have it, when the maid was coming up the stairs, which were dark and steep, with the dish of meat and plates in her hand, I was composing a scene of hunting a bear, and, being wholly intent upon my play, cried out as loud as I could:

“Fly, fly, the bloody bear; take heed, I say,
Alas, I’m killed, and you’ll become its prey.”

The poor wench, who was a silly Galician, hearing me roar that I was killed, and she in danger to become a prey to the bear, thought it had been real matter of fact, and that I called to her to save herself. Upon this conceit she took to her heels, and treading on her coats in the confusion, tumbled down all the stairs. The soup was spilt, the plates were broken, and she run out roaring into the street, “that a bear was killing a man.” I could not be so nimble but that all the neighbours were about me, asking where the bear was? and I could scarce make them believe me, though I told them it was the maid’s foolish mistake, for I was only acting a part of a play. I lost my dinner that day; my companions were told of it, and all the town made sport with it. Many such accidents befel me whilst I followed the trade of poetising, and would not forsake that wicked course of life.

It happened, as frequently does to that sort of people, that the chief of our company, being known to have done very well at Toledo, was arrested for some old debts and thrown into gaol, which broke up our gang, and everyone went his own way. As for my part, though my comrades would have introduced me into other companies, having no great inclination to that calling, for I had followed it out of mere necessity; I thought of nothing but taking my pleasure, being then well dressed and in no want of money. I took my leave of them all, they went their ways; and I, who had proposed to quit an ill course of life, by desisting from being a stroller, to mend the matter, dropped out of the frying-pan into the fire, for I fell into much worse. I became a candidate for Antichrist; to speak plainly, I became a gallant of nuns. The encouragement I had to commit this madness, was, that I understood there was a nun, the goddess Venus herself, at whose request I had written abundance of little devout pastorals; and she had taken some liking to me on that account, and seeing me act Saint John the Evangelist in a Sacramental play. The good lady made very much of me, and told me there was nothing troubled her so much as my being a player; for I had pretended to her that I was the son of a gentleman of quality, and therefore she pitied me, and I at last resolved to send her the following lines:

“I have quitted the company of players, rather to comply with your desires, than because it was otherwise convenient for me so to do; but to me all the company in the world, without yours, is solitude. I shall now have the more opportunity of being yours, as being absolutely