the herb-women, broke two of their heads. For my part after my fall into the sewer, I was good for little, unless it were to drive all from me with stink and filth. The officers coming up, seized two of the herb-women and some of the boys, searching them for their weapons, which they took away, for some had drawn daggers they wore for the greater show, and others short swords. They came to me, and seeing no weapons about me, because I had taken them off, and put them into a house to be cleaned, with my hat and cloak, one of them asked me for my arms; I answered, that in that filthy condition I had none but what were offensive to the nose alone. I cannot but acquaint you, sir, by the by, that when they began to pelt me with the rotten oranges, turnip-tops,
etc., my hat being stuck with feathers, as they do the bawds in Spain when they cart them, I fancied they mistook me for my mother, and thought they threw at her, as they had done several times before. This foolish notion being got into my young head, I began to cry out, “Good women, though I wear feathers in my cap, I am none of Aldonza Saturno de Rebollo; she is my mother”; as if they could not perceive that by my shape and face. However, the fright I was in may excuse my ignorance, especially considering the misfortune came so suddenly upon me. To return to the officer; he would willingly have carried me to prison, but did not, because he could not find a clean place to lay hold of me, for I was all over mire. Some went one way, and some another, and I went directly home from the market place, punishing all the noses I met by the way. As soon as I got home I told my father and mother all the story, who were in such a passion to see me in that nasty pickle, that they would have beat me. I excused myself the best I could, laying all the blame on the two leagues of attenuated horse they had provided for me; and finding nothing would appease them, left the house, and went away to see my friend Don Diego, whom I found at home with a broken head, and his parents fully resolved, for this reason, that he should go to school no more. There was I informed, that my steed, finding himself in distress, summoned up all the strength he had to salute his enemies with his heels, but was so weak that he put out his hips with the effort, and lay in the mud expiring. Considering that all the sport was spoiled, the mob alarmed, my parents in a rage, my friend’s head broken, and my horse dead, I resolved to go no more to school, nor to my father’s house, but to stay and wait upon Don Diego, or rather to bear him company, which his parents were well pleased with, because their son was so taken with me. I wrote home to tell them I had no need to go to school any longer, for though I could not write a good hand, that was no fault, because it was more becoming me, who designed to be a gentleman, to write an ill one; and therefore, from that time, I renounced the school, to save them charges, and their house, that they might have no trouble with me. I acquainted them where and what post I was in, and that I should see them no more, till they gave me leave.
Don Alonso resolved to send his son to a boarding school; both to wean him from his tender keeping at home, and at the same time to ease himself of that care. He was informed there was a master of arts in Segovia whose name was Cabra, that made it his business to breed up gentlemen’s sons;8 thither he sent his, and me to wait on him. The first Sunday after Lent we were brought into the house of famine, for it is impossible to express the penury of the place. The master was a skeleton, a mere shotten herring, or like a long slender cane, with a little head upon it, and red haired; so that there needs no more to be said to such as know the proverb, that “neither cat nor dog of that colour is good.” His eyes were sunk into his head, as if he had looked through a fruit bottle, or the deep windows in a linen draper’s shop; his nose turning up, and somewhat flat, for the bridge was almost carried away with an inundation of a cold rheum, for he never had the disease, because it costs money; his beard had lost its colour for fear of his mouth, which being so near, seemed to threaten to eat it for mere hunger; his teeth had many of them forsaken him for want of employment, or else were banished for being idle livers; his neck as long as a crane’s, with the gullet sticking out so far, as if it had been compelled by necessity to start out for sustenance; his arms withered; his hands like a bundle of twigs, each of them, taken downwards, looking like a fork or a pair of compasses; with long slender legs. He walked leisurely, and whensoever he happened to move anything faster his bones rattled like a pair of snappers. His voice was weak and hollow; his beard bushy and long, for he never trimmed to save charges, though he pretended it was so odious to him to feel the barber’s hands all over his face that he would rather die than endure it. One of the boys cut his
