About this time came Martinmas: then with us Germans begins the eating and swilling, and that feast is full conscientiously observed till Shrovetide: so was I invited to different houses, both among the officers and burghers, to help eat the Martinmas goose. So ’twas that on such occasions I made acquaintance with the ladies. For my lute and my songs made all to look my way, and when they so looked, then was I ready to add such charming looks and actions to my new love-songs (which I did myself compose) that many a fair maid was befooled, and ere she knew it was in love with me. Yet lest I should be held for a curmudgeon I gave likewise two banquets, one for the officers and one for the chief citizens, by which means I gained me favour of both parties and an entry to their houses; for I spared no expense in my entertainment. But all this was but for the sake of the sweet maids, and though I did not at once find what I sought with each and everyone (for some there were that could deny me), yet I went often to these also, that so they might bring them that did show me more favour than becomes modest maidens into no suspicion, but might believe that I visited these last also only for the sake of conversation. And so separately I persuaded each one to believe this of the others, and to think she was the only one that enjoyed my love. Just six I had that loved me well and I them in return: yet none possessed my heart or me alone: in one ’twas but the black eyes that pleased me; in another the golden hair; in a third a winning sweetness; and in the others was also somewhat that the rest had not. But if I, besides these, also visited others, ’twas either for the cause I mentioned or because their acquaintance was new and strange to me, and in any case I refused and despised nothing, as not purposing always to remain in the same place. My page, which was an arch-rogue, had enough to do with carrying of love-letters back and forth, and knew how to keep his mouth shut and my loose ways so secret from one and the other that nought was discovered: in reward for which he had from the baggages many presents, which yet cost me most, seeing that I spent a little fortune on them, and could well say, “What is won with the drum is lost with the fife.” All the same, I kept my affairs so secret that not one man in a hundred would have taken me for a rake, save only the priest, from whom I borrowed not so many good books as formerly.
XIX
By What Means the Huntsman Made Friends, and How He Was Moved by a Sermon
When Fortune will cast a man down, she raiseth him first to the heights, and the good God doth faithfully warn every man before his fall. Such a warning had I, but would have none of it. For I was stiffly persuaded of this, that my fortune was so firmly founded that no mishap could cast me down, because all, and specially the commandant himself, wished me well; those that he valued I won over by all manner of respect: his trusted servants I brought over to my side by presents, and with them perhaps more than with mine equals I did drink “Brotherhood” and swore to them everlasting faith and friendship: so, too, the common citizens and soldiers loved me because I had a friendly word for all. “What a kindly man,” said they often, “is the huntsman; He will talk with a child in the street, and hath a quarrel with no man!” If I had shot a hare or a few partridges I would send them to the kitchen of those whose friendship I sought, and also invited myself as a guest; at which time I would always have a sup of wine (which was in that place very dear) brought thither also: yea, I would so contrive it that the whole cost would fall upon me. And when at such banquets I fell in converse with any, I had praise for all save myself, and managed so to feign humility as I had never known pride. So because I thus gained the favour of all, and all thought much of me, I never conceived that any misfortune could encounter me, especially since my purse was still pretty well filled. Often I went to the oldest priest of the town, who lent me many books from his library: and when I brought one back then would he discourse of all manner of matters with me, for we became so familiar together that one could easily bear with the other. So when not only the Martinmas goose and the feast of pudding-broth were gone and over, but also the Christmas holidays, I presented to him for the New Year a bottle of Strasbourg Branntwein, the which he, after Westphalian use, liked to sip with sugar-candy, and thereafter came to visit him, even as he was a-reading my “Joseph the Chaste,” which my host without my knowledge had lent him. I did blush that my work should fall into the hands of so learned a man, especially because men hold that one is best known by what he writes. But he would have me to sit by him and praised my invention, yet blamed me that I had lingered so long over the love-story of Zuleika (which was Potiphar’s wife). “Out
