V
How I took a lodging, and the misfortune that befel me therein.
Being out of prison, I found myself all alone and destitute of friends, though I was told they were travelling towards Seville at the public expense; yet I would not follow them, but went away to a lodging. Here I fell in with a fair, clear skinned wench, free, pleasant, sometimes forward and sometimes coy. She lisped a little, was afraid of mice, prided herself upon her hands; and the better to show them, always snuffed the candles, carved up the meat at table, and held them up at church; in the street was always pointing where everybody lived; sitting in company continually contrived to be pinning up her headgear; and of all games loved to play at draughts, because then her hands were never off the board. She would frequently yawn, though she had no need, to show her teeth, and then cross her mouth; and in short the whole house had so much of her hands, that her very father and mother were out of patience with them. They entertained me very well in their house, for they made it their business to let lodgings, and could receive but three at once, which, at this time, were myself, a Portuguese, and a Catalonian. All of them were very courteous to me; I liked the wench well enough by way of diversion, and thought it a convenience to have her in the house. I courted her; told her abundance of pleasant stories I had picked up to pass the time; brought them home news, though there were none abroad; did them all the service I could, provided it cost nothing; persuaded them I understood witchcraft, and was a conjurer, and could make it appear as if the house were sinking, or all in a flame, without doing the least harm; all which the credulous, foolish women easily believed. All the family were civil and kind to me; but all this did not amount to love, for being but indifferently clad, though I had somewhat mended my apparel with the help of the gaoler, keeping up the kindred by continual sponging at his house; they did not take so much notice of it as I could have wished. To gain the reputation of being a man of wealth, though I concealed it, I contrived to send some of my acquaintance to ask for me when I was not at home. One of these came and inquired for Don Ramiro de Guzman, for I had told them that was my name, having been informed by my friends that changing of names was not expensive, and might prove very advantageous. The man, I say, inquired for Don Ramiro, a rich merchant, who had lately farmed two branches of the revenue of the king. Neither the old nor the young landlady knew me by this description, and therefore answered that no such man lived there, but only one Don Ramiro de Guzman, who was rather ragged than rich, a little fellow, hard favoured, and poor. “That is the person I want,” replied the man; “and as light as you make of him, I would desire no more, if it were God’s will, than as much as he is worth above two thousand ducats a year.” He told them a great many more lies of this sort; they stood amazed, and he left them a sham bill of exchange he pretended he had on me for nine thousand ducats, desiring them to get me to accept it. Both mother and daughter gave credit to my wealth, and immediately pricked me down for a husband. I came home very unconcerned, as if I knew nothing of the matter; immediately they gave me the bill of exchange, saying, “Wealth and love are hardly to be concealed, Don Ramiro. It is very well that you make us such strangers to what you are, when you know we have so much kindness for you.” I made as if I was displeased at his leaving the bill, and went away to my chamber. It was pleasant to see how they changed their note as soon as they thought I had money; they said everything became me, admired every word I spoke, and I was the most accomplished person in the world.
Perceiving they had bit at the bait I had laid
