Pablo de Segovia, the Spanish Sharper

broke his head. Away I went, running as fast as I could to my mother to hide me, telling her all the story. She said, “It was very well done of you, and like yourself; but you were in the wrong that you did not ask him who told him so.” Hearing what she said, and having always had high thoughts, I turned to her, and said, “Mother, all that troubles me is, that some of the standers-by told me I had no cause to be disturbed at it; and I did not ask them what they meant, because he was so young that said it.” I prayed her to tell me, whether I could have given him the lie with a safe conscience, or whether I was begot in a huddle, by a great many, or was the true son of my father. She laughed, and answered, “God a-mercy, lad, are you so cunning already! You’ll be no fool, you have sense enough; you did very well in breaking his head, for such things are not to be said, though never so true.” This struck me to the heart, and I was so very much out of countenance, that I resolved, as soon as possible, to lay hold of all I could, and leave my father’s house. However, I dissembled; my father went and healed the boy; all was made up, and I went to school again. My master received me in an angry manner, till being told the occasion of the quarrel, his passion was assuaged, considering the provocation given me. Don Alonso de Zuñiga’s son, Don Diego, and I were very great all this while, because he had a natural affection for me; and besides, I used to change tops with him, if mine were better than his; I gave him anything I had to eat, and never asked for what he had; I bought him pictures, I taught him to wrestle, played at leap frog with him, and was so obliging in all respects, that the young gentleman’s parents observing how fond he was of my company, would send for me almost every day to dine and sup, and sometimes to stay all night with him.

It happened one day soon after Christmas, as we were going to school, that a counsellor, called Pontio de Aguirre, passed along the street; little Don Diego seeing him, bid me call him Pontius Pilate, and run away when I had done. To please my friend, I did so, and the man was so affronted at it, that he scoured after me as hard as he could, with a knife in his hand to stab me, so that I was forced to take sanctuary in my master’s house, crying out with might and main. The man was in as soon as I; my master saved me from his doing me any mischief, promising to whip me, and was as good as his word, though my mistress, in consideration of the great service I did her, interceded for me. He bid me untruss, and every lash he gave me, cried, “Will you ever call Pontius Pilate again?” I answered, “No, sir,” every time he put the question; and it was such a warning to me, that dreading the name of Pontius Pilate, the next day, when we were ordered to say our prayers, according to custom, coming to the Creed (pray observe the innocent cunning) instead of saying “He suffered under Pontius Pilate,” believing I was never more to name Pilate, I said, “He suffered under Pontio de Aguirre.” My master burst out a laughing at my simplicity, and to see how I dreaded the lashing; and embracing me, promised to forgive the two first whippings I should deserve, which I took as a great favour of fortune, and a kindness in him.

To be brief, came Shrovetide, and our master to divert the boys, and make sport, ordered that there should be a king of cocks6 among us, and we casts lots for that honour among twelve he had appointed for it. I was the lucky person it fell upon, and spoke to my father and mother to provide me fine clothes. When the day came, abroad I went upon a starved poor jade of a horse, that fell to saying his prayers at every step; his back looked like a saw; his neck like a camel’s, but somewhat longer; his head like a pig, only it had but one eye, and that moon-blind; all this plainly showed the knavery of his keeper, who made him do penance, and fast, cheating him of his provender. Thus I went, swinging from side to side, like a jointed baby, with all the rest of the boys after me, tricked up as fine as so many puppets, till we came into the market place⁠—the very naming of it frights me; and coming to the herb-women’s stalls, the Lord deliver us from them, my horse being half starved, snapped up a small cabbage, which no sooner touched his teeth but it was down his throat, though, by reason of the length of his neck, it came not into his belly for a long time after. The herb-woman who, like the rest of them, was an impudent jade, set up the cry, the others of the trade flocked about her, and among them abundance of the scoundrels of the market; all these fell a-pelting the poor king with carrot and turnip tops, rotten oranges, and all the offals of the market. Considering the enemies’ forces were all foot,7 and therefore I ought not to charge them a-horseback, I would have alighted, but my horse received such a shot in the head that as he went to rear, his strength failing him, we both came down into the sewer. You may imagine what a condition I was in. By this time my subjects, the boys, had armed themselves with stones, and charging