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

same time spoke so low that she could not understand one word without a trumpet at her ear. Everybody that saw me, cried, “A curse on thee, thou wicked, nun-hunting dog!” besides many other worse compliments. All these things brought me to my senses, and I resolved to quit my nun, even though it cost me my living; and this I determined to do on St. John’s Day. I had come to know what nuns were. I need not tell you, sir, how the she-votaries of St. John get themselves hoarse of spite, so that, instead of chanting the mass, they groan it; nor do they wash their faces, but don their old garments. I got off her the value of fifty crowns of her work, in silk stockings, rich purses, and sweetmeats, pretending to have them raffled for; but as soon as I had them in possession, I set out for Seville to try my fortune there, as the greater city. The pious reader may guess how much the nun was concerned, not for me, but what I cheated her of. X

Of what happened to me at Seville, till I took ship for the Indies.

I had a good journey from Toledo to Seville, for I was sharp at play, had loaded dice, both high and low, and could palm a dice, hold four, and throw out three; besides, I had false cards, and knew how to pack any, and turn up what I pleased, and abundance of other fine arts and sleights of hand, which I pass by as tedious, and for fear they might rather serve to teach others evil practices, than for warnings of what they are to shun; but perhaps some few words of advice may be of use to such as are not skilled in those practices; and they who read my book, if they are cheated, may thank themselves. Never think yourself safe because you find the cards, for they will change them upon you whilst a candle is snuffing. Take care they make no scratches or other marks on the cards; and if my reader is a poor vagabond, he must observe, that, among that gang of rake-hells, they prick the cards they would know with a pin, or handle them so as to leave a crease. If you happen to play among a better sort of people, take heed of cards which are originally falsified, and have private marks on the pasteboard. Never trust to a clean card, nor think yourself safe with a foul one, for the cheat is equal in both. Take heed the dealer never bends any cards more than others, which is a certain way to pick your pocket; and observe that no motions be made with the fingers, or no hints given by the first letters of words. I will not let you farther into this secret; this is enough to make you always stand upon your guard, for you may be assured I do not tell the hundredth part of the cheats.

Being master of these arts, I got to Seville at my fellow-travellers’ expense, winning all the hire of the mules, my other charges, and money to boot, of them and my landlords at the inns. I alighted at that they call “The Moor,” where I was found out by one of my schoolfellows at Alcalá, whose name was Mata, but he, thinking it did not make noise enough, had changed it to Matorral. He dealt in men’s lives, and sold cuts and slashes, a trade which throve well with him; he carried the sign of it on his face, where he had received his share. He always made his bargain to a nicety for length and depth, when he was to bestow any, and said, “No man is so absolute a master, as he who has been well hacked and hewn himself.” And he was in the right, for his face was one seam, and himself all slashes. He told me, I must go sup with him and his comrades, and they would bring me back to the inn. I went with him, and when we were in his lodging, he said, “Come, spark, lay by your cloak and look like a man, for this night you shall see all the brave fellows in Seville; and that they may not look upon you as a cully, tumble your band, thrust out your back, and let your cloak hang loose, as if it were dropping off, for we hate to see any man’s cloak set fast upon his back. Screw your chops about, and make faces with both sides of your mouth, then talk big, using the rough words of us gentry.” I learned his lesson, and he lent me a dagger, broad enough to have been a scimitar, and for length it wanted nothing of a sword but the name. “Now drink off this quart of wine,” said he, “for without you vapour you will not look like a true bully.” We had gone so far in my instructions, and I was half seas over with what I had drank, when in came four of the gang, with faces like old gout-shoes, bound about the middle like monkeys with their cloaks instead of ropes, their hats standing a tiptoe on their heads, and cocked up, as if the brims were nailed to the crowns; a whole armourer’s shop about them in swords and daggers, and the points of them beating against their right heels; their eyes staring, their whiskers turned up, and their beards like brushes. They made their compliment with their mouths, and then, in a hoarse tone, and clipping their words, saluted my companion in a gibberish, who answered in like manner. They sat down, and spoke not one word to ask who I was, but one of them looking at Matorral, and opening his mouth, thrust out his under lip, by way of pointing at me. My introducer answered in