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 ^(Mic the ^Strz^ ¡ 
 
 LIFE 
 
 O F 
 
 Guzman d Alfar ache : 
 
 OR, THE 
 
 SPANISH ROGUE. 
 
 To which is added, 
 
 The Celebrated Tragi-Comedy, 
 
 CEI E ST IN A. 
 
 In Two Volumes. 
 
 Written in Spamjh 
 By Mateo Alema n, 
 
 Done into Englijli from the New French Verfion¿ 
 and compar'd with the Original. 
 
 By feveral Hands. 
 
 Adorn d with Sculptures by Gafpar Bouttats. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 Printed for R. Bonwick, W. Freeman, T. Goodwin, 
 J. JVMoe, M. Woiton, J. Nicholfon, S. Ma 
 R. Parker, B. Tooke, and R. Smith. iyo3. 
 
T O T H E 
 
 RIGHT HONOURABLE 
 
 THE 
 
 Lord Marquefs 
 
 O F 
 
 MOUNT-HERMERs 
 
 My LORD, 
 
 T Here's no need of ac- 
 quainting Your ZW- 
 /bip with the Character 
 ôf the following Treatife, which 
 feems at firit View to be defign* 
 A % &d 
 
 2 
 
Epi/lle Dedicatory* 
 
 ed only for the Diveriîon of the 
 Teople. But whoever looks into 
 it, will find the Author intended 
 it for the Inftruclion, as well as 
 the Pleafure, of all Mankind. 
 
 Your Lwdflnp is too well read, 
 in both x.ent and Modern 
 Learning, to receive any Light 
 fiCiAi us, in wh^t conceras the 
 *B elles Lettres. And we fhall bô 
 proud of the Honour of Enter- 
 taining You in ibme of Your 
 G Iyer Minutes, when You re- 
 lieve Your Serious Studies with 
 Things pleaünt and smuiïngi 
 Though we muil.be fo Juft to 
 our Author, as to declare, That, 
 befides the Pleafantry of the 
 Story, there are as msny ufeful 
 
 Refiedions, 
 
Epijlle Dedicatory. 
 
 Reflexions, with .s much Inge* 
 nious Satyr, applicable to ttie 
 Common triors oí Kum ae 
 Life, in this, as in any _ >ok 
 whatioever; notwithftandiig its 
 Air is not lo Solemn and Severe, 
 as that oí lome oí our Moral Ef 
 Jajf. 
 
 The Reputation it is in A* 
 broad, where it h:s found Ad- 
 mittance into the Cabinets of 
 the moll Learned and moil Cu- 
 rious of the Politer Nations, ever 
 fince it was publifli'd , ihews, 
 'tis fomething more than the 
 Mean Hiftory of a Vulgar Shar~ 
 per-, and that the Name of. Gwç> 
 man is only made ufe of, to de- 
 fçribe the Manners of fevçral 
 
 A 3 Perfons 
 
Epi/lle Dedicatory. 
 
 Perfons of much better CondU 
 tion than à" Alfar ache. But Your 
 Lordfaip will foon difcover all 
 this , without any Intimation 
 from us ; and 'tis fufficient that 
 we are forgiven for approaching 
 You in this Way, without pre- 
 suming to interrupt You with a 
 tedious Difcourfe of the Good- 
 nefs of our Author, whofe Me- 
 rit and Fame fpeak more for him, 
 than we can lay in his Vindica- 
 tion. 
 
 Your Lord/hip will, we hope ? 
 find we are not too Partial in our 
 Judgment ; and though we can- 
 hot pretend to have preferv'd all 
 the Peau ties of the Original, we 
 may venture to affirm, there's 
 
 enough 
 
Epiflle "Dedicatory. 
 
 enough left to divert a Man, 
 who is willing to be diverted. 
 
 Your Lordjhifs High Birth, 
 and Illuftrious Alliance , place 
 You in the Firft Rank of the 
 c Britilh Nobility ; and Your In- 
 clination to Letters and Arts, gives 
 us the Promife, that You will 
 be their Troteftor: They cannot 
 hope for a more powerful One, 
 and they never flood more in 
 need of Protection. 
 
 If You are pleas'd to allow it 
 to the Tranflation of this Treatife, 
 it will raife its Fortune above 
 that of the Original: And what- 
 ever Caufe Don Alemán had to 
 complain of his Fate, the Tran- 
 A ^ nation 
 
Epi/lle dedicatory. 
 
 ílation will have as much Reafon 
 to . boaft of theirs , and be as 
 Happy as he was Unfortunate, 
 I 'am, with all imaginable Re? 
 fpedi-, 
 
 My LORD, 
 
 Your Lordjhifs 
 
 mcft Humble, 
 moft Obedient, and 
 vtofi Devoted Servant, 
 
 J. Savage. 
 
THE 
 
 Englifli Translators 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 I^HE RE is hardly any Language in Eu- 
 rope that knows not Guzman 5 and the 
 Spanifh Rogue is as much tailed of, as 
 if there was no other in the World: But, 
 Alas! Don Alfarache is only an Allegory for all 
 Mankind to learn by, or, at leafi, in bit Time 
 'twas a General Chara&er fir Particulars to fee 
 their own Pictures in - and there rcere few of the 
 .Saints of thofe Days, but one Part or another of 
 his C loathing would fit them. We have the Happi- 
 xefs to live in another Age ; Rogues, thanks our 
 Stars , are as fcarce now, as honefl Alen were in 
 Guzman'/ Time. 'Tis a terrible Thing to thinl^of 
 fo great a Rafcal as this Alfarache. How like a. 
 Monjler he would look at the Royal- Exchange, 
 Weftminfter-Hall, St. Jámese Park 7 People would 
 be frighted at the Sight of him, as Children arc 
 
 with 
 
The Engliflj Tranflators Preface. 
 
 with Raw-head and Bloody-bones. But, how* 
 ever, we will venture a little. 'Tis but to wake them 
 Start at firfi, they I grow Familiar with him after- 
 wards, and Ten to One, before they have read the 
 Bool^ out, they cry, I fee no Harm in him, 'tis 
 the Way of the World. Every Body lives by 
 his Wits , who would not be Rich and Hap- 
 py if he could ? Where's the Hurt if a Man 
 can raife himfelf from a Dunghill to ride in 
 his Coach, and be carried about in his Chair 
 by better Men than himfelf. No Man's a 
 Rogue that has Money in his Pocket. Thefi 
 are fine Morals, are they not .<? They are common 
 enough we own^ hardly a Gamefier, a Ufitrcr, a — . 
 But 'tk to no purpofe to enter upon Particulars 3 
 hardly a Thriving Fellow in any Bit fine fs but has 
 thefe Ethicks by Heart -^ yet, as fine as they are, 
 they brought Guzman to the Gallies, and we won- 
 der his Difeiples efcape fio well as they do. As ta 
 this Tranflation of hint, 'tis not from the Spaniih 
 only, as our old dry Englifh Guzman was, but 
 faithfully done from a New Verííon in French: 
 In ivhich, all that was Tedious in the Spanifh if 
 left out, and all that was Pleafant kpt in* But let 
 the French Tranflator jufeify himfelf in this Cafe* 
 He fays in his Preface, with an Affurance, as if he 
 could command Applaufe : I dare fay there are 
 many good Things in this Tranflation, becaufe 
 they are none of my own, and fome bad Ones, 
 which I am not bound to vindicate And 
 whoever lays them to my Charge, will do me 
 Wrong; For, without Vanity be it fpoken. 
 
The Evglijh Tranflators Preface, 
 
 there would have been many more of the Latr 
 ter, If I had not Abridg'd and Clipt them. I 
 have alio added feveral new Turns of Thought 
 and Expreffion, that the Whole might look 
 with a Modern Air. Tis no eafy Thing to 
 make a Spanijh Suit fit a French-man, efpecially 
 an old One. The Antipathy between the Two 
 Nations appears in every Thing. Though thiç 
 Book is not proper for Lent and Holidays, it 
 will do well in Carnaval-time. 'Tis fitted to 
 all Shapes and Sizes. A Saddle for every Horfej 
 A Man need but try it, and feveral Men, 
 who believe 'twas made for others, will find 
 the Coat fits as well upon them, as if the Tay- 
 lor had cut it out by their own Meafure. The 
 Misfortune is, every one believes he is Tall 
 and Well-íhap'd, and yet there are hardly 
 any but "Crooked and Hump-back'd Men in 
 the World. There is no Man but looks on 
 himfelf with Pleafure and Admiration , and 
 on others, only to Laugh and Rail at them. 
 This is the Truth of the Matter. We can't 
 Corred it; and he that would fet up for a 
 Reformer, will find he has a hard Task on't. 
 I do not think my Author could hope for Suc- 
 cefs , he knew Mankind too well , and was 
 himfelf too wife to fancy he could make others 
 fo. Wherefore following his Example, I am, 
 dear Reader, your moft Humble and moil Obe- 
 dient , &c. What can we add to the French 
 Tranfl Ut or herein? lie have given the World a jufi, 
 
 and 
 
The Englifh Tranflarors Préfaça 
 
 and hope a new entertaining Tranflation. We f o una 
 as much good Senfe and more Pleafantry , as much 
 Reflection and mere ¡J it, in his Guzman, than in 
 the Original Spa ni 111. True, his Reflections are- 
 not fpiin out to fo much Length, hut they comprifè 
 as much Rcaflon in fewer Words 5 and the Book, as 
 he has managd it, is both more agreeable and more 
 inflru&ive. For whoever reads the Life of A J id - 
 rache, fljould not do it as an ¿imujement only ^ but 
 conflder all along, that 'tis rather a Fable than a Hi- 
 ftory. Under the Per fon of Guzman, is meant 
 fever al forts of Rogues whom we meet with in the 
 World ^ and the Author having fit a Marfc by which 
 roe Jhould kpow them, we may the better avoid them. 
 The Great, efpecially, may fie the Inconvenience of 
 finch fort of Servants as flatter them in their Plea- 
 Cures, make fice eafy, and bring Ruin on thofi that 
 truji them. 
 
 The Novels that arc intermixed with the Story y 
 were intended by the Spanifh Author to relieve its 
 Tedioufine.fi, which, however, wants no Relief : For 
 'tis equally TJfefd and Diverting. We flail fay no 
 more of the Original,, having this fair Recommen- 
 dation of his Worl\ from Gentlemen of his own 
 Country, That the Author Don Alemán was a Per- 
 fion who had diftinguiflfd himfilf by his Merit. 
 Don Luys de Valdes tells us in his Elogium, 
 printed before the Spanifh Edition of Guzman, 
 There never was a poorer Scholar , a richer 
 Mind, nor a more perplex'd Life than his. He 
 preferr d being a poor Philofophcr, before the 
 
 Çharactcv 
 
The Eitglifh Tfanflators Preface. 
 
 Character of a wealthy Flatterer. He ferv'd 
 Philip the Second in feveral confid érable Em- 
 ploys, and left his Service, beca ufe he could 
 not conform himfelf to the evil Pra&i fes by 
 which he faw others enrich themielves. He 
 behav'd himfelf fo uprightly in all the 
 Places he enjoy VI, that he got nothing buc 
 Efteem by it. He ruin'd his Health by his 
 great Application to his Studies. His Fame 
 was as much celebrated in Italy, France, Ger- 
 many, and Flanders, as in his own Country. 
 His Name was hardly ever mention'd without 
 fome pompous Epithet, and many itil'd hinv 
 the Spdnijh Divine In lefs than Three Years 
 Time he faw his Works tranflated into feveral 
 Languages. I have heard, continues he, of 
 Twenty fix Impreífíons of his Book, which, 
 in all contain'd Fifty thoufand Copies. The 
 Univerlîty of Salamanca, might boaft of Mateo 
 Ale/nan, as Athens of Demojlhenes , or 'Rome of 
 Cicero 5 and an Augufrine Fryer at a Publick A£b 
 in that Academy declar'd, There never was a 
 Book of greater tile, both for its Morality and 
 Delight, than the Li|e of Guzman. One Matey 
 Lujan, tempted by the Applaufe given the True 
 Mateo Alemán. publiuYd a Second Part to it 5 
 but 'twas foon difcover'd to be written by ano- 
 ther Hand, and it accordingly met with diffe- 
 rent Succefs. Alemán was then bufy'd in wri- 
 ing the Life of St. Anthony of Padua, which he 
 did, in Performance of a Vow made to write 
 it on his Recovery from a Fit of Sicknefs. We 
 
 find 
 
The Evghjh Tranílators Preface. 
 
 find another Elogium in Spaniih, before the Life 
 cf Guzman, written by Don Alphonfo de Bar- 
 ros ^ who, after very- great Commendations of the 
 Worh^, both as to its Pleafure and Profit, rcrites 
 thus: The Life of our Hiftorian* Mateo Ale¿ 
 man, was as Inftructive as his Book. For he 
 was very far from being fuch a fort of Perfon, 
 as he insinuates in his Hiftory. He was bred 
 up in the Study of the Belles Lettres from his 
 Youth, and, while a Boy, was never out of 
 fome Employment or other ^ fo that his Life 
 can by no means be charg'd with Idlenefs in 
 any Part of it. When he left the Court, and 
 the laft Place he held there, which he faid re- 
 lated to State Affairs and the Miniftry, 'twas 
 that he might have more lime to follow his 
 Studies ^ and having afterwards Leifure for fuch 
 a Work, he undertook this. He has follow 'd 
 Horace's Rule, in mingling the Utile and the 
 Duke together. His main Defign was to In- 
 ftruct} and all the Reward he expected for his 
 Labour, was the Pleafure of having been fer- 
 viceable to the Publick. Children have the 
 fame Obligation to him, as they have to their 
 Fathers who take care of their Education, 
 and (hew them how to live in the World ^ and 
 Fathers may learn here how to inftrucr. their 
 Children, and teach them to avoid thofe 
 Rocks wnich lie in their Way, and threaten 
 them with Deftru&ion. But if we Jhould fay 
 all that has been faid of this Author, and his Book, 
 by hit Country-men and others, we might tire thé 
 
 Re4dff 
 
The Englijh Tranflators Preface. 
 
 Reader before he comes at it : For which Red- 
 fon, we omit much more than has been faid al- 
 ready , and leave the Work, to fyeah^ for it 
 
 THE 
 
A Catalogue of "BOOKS. 
 
 TH E Life and Adventures of Lazarillo de Tormes; 
 Written by himlelf. Tranflated from the Ori- 
 ginal Spanijh, and illuitrated with Twenty cu- 
 rious Copper Cuts. In Two Parts¿ in Twelves. 
 
 The Gintlemetn's DifHonary. In Three Farts , viz,. 
 I. The Art of Riding the Great Horie : Containing the 
 Terms and Phrafes us'd in the Manage, and the Diieafes and 
 Accidents of Horles. II. The Military Art ; explaining the 
 Terms and Phrafes us'd in Field, or Gariibn : The Terms re- 
 lating to Artillery: The Works and Motions of Attack and 
 Defence, and the Poitand Duty of Sea-Officers, &c. With 
 Hiftorical Examples, taken from the Actions of our Armies. 
 III. The Art of Navigation ; explaining the Terms of Naval 
 Affairs ; as Building, Rigging, Working, and Fighting of 
 Ships ; the Poft and Duty of Sea-Officers, &c. With Hi- 
 ftorical Examples, taken from the Actions of our Fleet j 
 each Part done Alphabetically, from the Sixteenth Edition 
 of the Original French, publiihcl by the Sieur Guillen ,■ 
 and Dedicated to the Daaphine : With large. Additions, 
 Alterations and Improvements. Adapted to the Cuitoms 
 and Actions of the Englijh : And above Forty curious Cuts 
 that were not in the Original. In Oclavo. 
 
 Of Wifdom. In Three Books. Written originally inA 
 French, by the Sieur de Charron : With an Account of th ™ 
 Author. Made Englijh from the belt Edition. Corre&ed 
 and Enlarged by the Author, a little berbre his Death. By 
 Gm-gt Stanhope, D. D. Dean of Canterbury, and Chaplain 
 in Ordinary to Her Majefty. The Second Edition: To 
 which is added, a large Index to the whole. In Two Vo- 
 lumes, in Oiiavo. 
 
 A New Voyage to the Levant : Containing an Account 
 of the moft remarkable Cunofities in Germany, France, 
 Italy, Malta and Turkey : With Hiftorical Obier various re- 
 lating to the Preient and Ancient State of thole Countries. 
 By the Sieur du Mont. Done into Englijh • ana adornU 
 with Figures. The Fourth Edition. In Oiiavo. 
 
THE 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 O F T H E 
 
 Firft BOOK. 
 
 Chap. T. f^V Z M A N tells who and what his Father wat \ 
 
 I t dijcourftng by the by, of Detraftors and Back- 
 
 biters ; of unconscionable Traders ; of unjuji 
 
 Judges ; of Tricked Notaries ; and at length takes Notice, 
 
 That over-nice Drejfing is ill in a Woman, but worfe in a 
 
 Ai an. Page i 
 
 Chap. II. Guzman goes on with an Account of his Parents, and 
 Cells who his Mother was ; describing, for our better Inftru- 
 ilion, the evil Condition and bad Qualities of a lewd Woman ; 
 ef Bawds ; of a Senfual and Lafcivious Aian ; and concludes, 
 that difhonejl Love is the Ruin of a Mans Honour, Efiate 
 and Life. 24 
 
 Chap. III. Guzman leaves his Mother s Houfe, and, by the 
 way, difcourfes on the Torments of Hunger : Afterwards he 
 tells you what bifel him with an Hojlefs, recounting many no- 
 table Injlances 0) ill Government. 46 
 
 Chap. IV. Guzman tells the Muleteer what had befallen him 
 with his Hojlefs, and reflects upon unnecejfary Laughter. 
 Then he tells you Two fhort Tales ; One of a Covetous Phy/î- 
 cian, and the other how Two Soldiers Jen/ d his Hoftefs ; and, 
 at lafi, falls into a Learned Difcowrje about pardoning of In- 
 juries, ey 
 
 Chap. V. Guzman tells how he and the Muleteer eat feveral 
 Parts of a young Mule, having it impos'd upon them by his 
 Hojl at Canrillana for Veal : And afterward proceeds to/hew 
 the many Raje ally Tricks that wicked Hofisput upon poor Tra- 
 vellers. 62 
 
 Chap. VI. Guzman goes on, and tells how theViilany of his Hojl 
 of Cantillana came to be dijeoverd ; and what afterwards be- 
 fel him and the ¡aid Hojl. 70 
 
 a Cb^p. VII. 
 
The Contents. 
 
 Chap. VIT. Mans Misfortunes are here difcours'd of ; and for 
 that purpofe, a Story told of the Gods of ancient Times. Then 
 Guzman tells you, how he was apprehended for a Thief, and 
 by what Means he came to be released. Lajlly, one of tlx 
 Gentlemen promijes to tell a Story, which yon have in the follow- 
 ing Chapter. t Page 79 
 
 Chap. VIII. The Amour of Ozmin and Daraxa. A Novel. 91 
 
 The Second BOOK. 
 
 Chap. T. /""* Uzman, in his way from Cazalla to Madrid, 
 VJ fpeaks of the bad State and Condition of a miferaUe 
 Man ; and thence takes Occafion to Difcourfe gravely on the 
 Confequenccs of Want, Shame, Cafiles in the Air, and the like : 
 And at la/}, tells how he came to ferve an Innkeeper, with the 
 wicked Difpofitions of that fort of People. Page 237 
 
 Chap. II. Guzman leaves his Hoft, and goes a begging towards 
 Madrid, where being arrived, he continues that Employment j 
 and having learn d other Arts, falls at laft upon a Difcourfe of 
 Vain Honour. 249 
 
 Chap. III. Guzman goes on with his Difcourfe again]} Vain Ho- 
 nour ; and, at laft, comes to fpeak of Perfons in High Pofts, 
 and their mean Extraction. 2^5 
 
 Chap. IV. Guzman gives you a long and witty Difcourfe, of his 
 own Invention, againjl the Vanity of Honour • touching, by 
 the by, on the Vices of Servants, Shopkeepers, Notaries, Pro- 
 &9rs, Judges, Artificers, Apothecaries, Phyjicians and Law- 
 yers. 264. 
 
 Chap. V. Guzman tells how he fcrvd a Cool ; and, by and by, 
 takes occafion to reflect upon fever al Profeffions. He condemns 
 Gaming and Gameflers. He relates a fmall Theft of his. 
 He dijeovers the Rogueries of Stewards, Cooks, Butlers, and 
 other fuch-like Officers -, and acquaints you how much Great 
 Aden are commonly abused by their Servants. He fpeaks of 
 Kings, and their mif érable State ; and (hews the Vanity of 
 Inferiours contending with Superiours. At lafi, he condemns 
 thofe Mafters that ufe their Servants ill, and tells the ill Con- 
 séquence of it. Page 272 
 
 Chap. VI. Guzman goes on, and tells what pafs'd farther be- 
 tween him and his Maj¡er } till he was difmifsd his Service. 
 
 He 
 
The Conte x t s. 
 
 He takes an Occafion to condemn Idlenefs and ill Company. 
 He recounts the Spoils and Trophies of Cooks, and relates a 
 pleafant Paffage between him and his Mijirefs. Pace 292 
 
 Chap. VIT. Guzman takes Hp the Basket again, and makes 
 many ufefnl moral Reflections on Mankind. At lajl, by means 
 of a Theft, he got a great deal of Money, and left Madrid. 30 
 
 Chap. VIII. Guzman tells how he arriv'd at Madrid, and Jet 
 up for a Gallant there ; that having two Intrigues, they both 
 fucceeded unprofperoufly, and that at length quitting that City r 
 he was fervd a fcurvy Trick at Malagon. 320 
 
 Chap. IX. Guzman tells the Meaning of a certain Proverb ; and 
 after proceeds to (hew how he was lifted for a Soldier, yet re- 
 fused by the Cnmmift'ary. He thence takes occafion to reflect on 
 the Abufes of that and other Pofts ; and at I aft coma to {peak 
 of Want of Money, and the Conjcquences of it. 346 
 
 Chap. X. Guzman Jets forth the Disadvantages of one that is 
 decay d in his Fortune, and how difficult it is for an hone)} 
 Man to get into any Employment. He acquaints you, how he 
 fupplied his Captains Nccejfities by his Rogueries ; and after- 
 wards, how he came with him to Genoa, where he difchdrgd 
 him, notwithjîanding his former Services, meerly becauje of 
 the Dangers he expos' d him to. 357 
 
 The Third BOOK. 
 
 Chap. I. f~* Uzman difcourfes of Riches and Poverty, and the 
 
 VJ EjfeEls of both. Then he proceeds to till how he 
 
 veas rejected by his Relations, and what Trick he had playd him 
 
 while he was in que ft of them j and how at lajl he took the Road 
 
 dirctlly towards Rome. 371 
 
 ChapJT. Guzman,/» his Journey towards Komc,difcourfes of his 
 Parfimony and good Husbandry ; and at length tells you how, 
 upon his Arrival at his Journeys end, he turnd Beggar again ; 
 and what Inftrutlions he had from an old Proficient, who com- 
 municated to him tbe Laws and Ordinances 0) that Fraternity, 
 which he acquaints you with. 3 86 
 
 Chap. Ill . Guzman tells you of jome new Laws he learn d', and 
 how he was fervd for begging at art- unitafonable Hour, and 
 afterwards laugh 'd at by an old Proficient, who inftrncled him 
 better : Then he acquaints yon with the daily PracHfes and 
 
 Exer- 
 
 I 
 
The Contents. 
 
 Exercife both of him [elf and his Companions, whereby they got 
 wherewithal to live,nor only plentifully, but luxurioufly. Page 395 
 Chap. IV. Guzman Diicourjes of Charity, and the many Benefits 
 of it. Then he tells, hoto he came to be reliev'd by a certain 
 Nobleman, who thought his Ait meritorious. Afterwards he 
 proceeds tofhew what a free Life and Liberty a Beggar enjoys 400 
 Chap. V. Guanan t'eUt aftrange Story of one oj his Vrofcfjlon, 
 and then proceeds to cry up a Beggars Life in Opposition to all 
 others. At length he acquaints you, hoir he was Jervd at. .Gacta. 
 for Counterjciiing. 405 
 
 Chap. VI. Guzman difcourfes of Alms-giving, and the many Ad- 
 vantages of it : And then tells you how, upon his return to Rome 
 and jailing to his old Trade ofBegging,be woa taken in by a Car- 
 dinal, pretending to have afore Leg, who order d him to be curd 
 by two Surgeons, who agreeing with him, impos'd on his Eminence, 
 and got a great deal of Money. He lajHy acquaint s you how,being 
 curcd,theCardinal took a fancy to him, and made lúm hisPage.^i 2 
 Chap. VII. GuXR&aJpeais of the many Changes in this World,and 
 laments his own late Change of Life, as not comparable to the 
 Condition oj a Beggar. Lie tells you fever al little Thefts of his ; 
 and at lajl acquaints you with one that he was ¡oundly lafh'dfor, 
 •which, however, he fufficiently revengd on the Executioner. 420 
 Chap. VIII. Guzman tells, how he revengd the Cardinal's Gentle- 
 man-^ fher upon his Secretary : And afterwards acquaints yon 
 Kith a notable Theft oj his, which had like to have coft him his 
 Place 1 but his Eminence retain d htm out of meer Charity, in 
 hopes fx might have an Opportunity to teach him better, and 
 prevent, if pojjdle, his utter DeJIrucHon. 427 
 
 Chap. IX. Guzman f peaks of Charity in relation to the Cardinal ¡ 
 and then ¡bars the lncmvcniencies of A4 after s being over-rigo- 
 roits and unkind to their Servants. He next tells you another 
 Theft of his, and how well he came off. Afterwards he proceeds 
 to treat oj Gaming, and ¡hew s the Rogueries of it. Here he tells 
 a pie af ant Story ; and at lajl, having recommended fome Law s for 
 Gaming, acquaints you how he was dijmifs'd the Cardinal's Ser- 
 vice, and on what Condition he was to return into it. 436 
 Chap. X. Guzman goes into the Spaniih Ambajfador's Service^ 
 and tells you what Tricks he play'd there', ami above all, one 
 very pleafant one that he fervd a Frenchman, and another 
 that he play'd ñ Corü\ouan. 453 
 Chap. XI. The Arnour of Count Palviano and .Eleonora. 
 A Novel. 462 
 
 THE 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE and ACTIONS 
 
 Of the Famous 
 
 SPANISH ROGUE 
 Guzman dAlfarache. 
 
 Part I. Book L 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Guzman tells who and what his Father was 5 dip 
 courfing by the by, of Detraffors and Backbiters 5 
 of unconfcionable Traders-^ of unjujl Judges ^ of 
 wicked Notaries ^ and at length takes Notice, That 
 over-nice Drejjing is ill in a Woman, but worfi 
 in a Man. 
 
 I Was fo defirous, Courteous Reader, to relate to 
 thee the Adventures of my Lite, that without 
 allowing my felf Latitude enough, I had like to 
 have pafled by what is the very Bafis of it, the 
 fooner to engage thee in the Reading my Story ; but 
 over and above that it was altogether elfendal to my 
 
 B Difcourfe, 
 
a The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Difcourfe, I ihould thereby have expofed my felf to 
 ibme Sophift or other, who would have been apt to 
 have accufed me of not proceeding à Definitione ad 
 Dt finit um 3 from the Definition to the Thing Defind' 3 that 
 is to fay, of not telling who my Parents were, and 
 of how uncertain an Origin, before I came to fpeak 
 of my felf. 'Tis true, 1 have a great deal to fay on 
 this firit Head, and if 1 had a mind to enlarge into 
 Particulars, might, perhaps, afford a more fatisfacliory 
 Entertainment by fuch a Relation, than by any Ac- 
 count 1 can give of my own Actions ; but I fhall con- 
 tent my felf with what is moil important, and pafs 
 by the reft as either unnecelfary or improper for me 
 to tell. Let forrie other lefs Scrupulous Perfon beat 
 that Bufli for me ; for my part, I care not fo far to 
 participate of the Nature of the Hyena, as to unearth 
 the Dead to procure my felf Suftenance; and let me 
 tell you, as there have never wanted Cenfurers in the 
 World, fo no doubt my Parents will never want 
 Chroniclers. However, in the little I have to fay of 
 them, you will poflibly be apt to imagine I fay too 
 much, and be ready to call me Fool or Blockhead 
 for dwelling fo long on other People's Defects, while 
 I take fo little notice of my own. This I allow to be 
 true; yet give me leave to procure my felfas good a 
 Character with you as 1 can, lince certainly to boaft 
 ©1 Wiekedncfs is much worfe than to be really wicked. 
 You am ft likewife believe, if 1 aequielcein that Holy 
 Gommând which enjoins me to honour my Parents, 
 ' it is becaule I have Hopes their frailties may conceal 
 mine: ÎMot that I have a mind to fecure my Reputa- 
 tion at the Expense of another Man's, though that be 
 a common Thing to do, but only to render my Faults 
 the more excufable, fince certainly one difcovers ones 
 ' own Weaknefs whenever one expofes that of ones 
 Neighbour. I own Slanderers are ever blameable; but 
 I hope that Crime will be never juftly imputed to. 
 me, in regard of my Parents, lince what I have to 
 
 fay 
 
Éookl. éf Guzman d'AIfarache, 3" 
 
 fay of them will be always fo artificially fet off, that 
 whoever (hall read it, will be apt to cry, Blejfedbe the 
 Man who knoivs fo weü hoiv to glofs the Crimes of his An- 
 ceflors. Neverthelefs, to fpeak truth, their Story is fo 
 well known, and their Adions have made fo great a 
 Noiie in the World, that 'twould be meer madneis 
 in me to go about to excufe them; and therefore 
 to do them the greater Service, or rather Juftice, I 
 muft relate all Matters concerning them according to 
 the very Text, wherein, however, Iihallgive the Lie 
 to feveral Commentators upon their Lives, who, as 
 often as they have had occafion to mention them > 
 have never failed to add feveral Articles of their own 
 Invention, which have always been to their Difad- 
 vantage, but never to their Credit. Thus the great- 
 eft part of the World goes, and thus it fell out with 
 a Gentleman, a Stranger, who I my felf knew at 
 Madrid. He was a great Lover of Horfes, having 
 two the fineft for Shape that could be imagina. 
 Thefe he would have willingly tranfported to his own 
 Country, but it being againit the Law, he refolved to 
 have them painted, that he might at leaft have the 
 Satisfaction of ihewing their Pictures to his Friends. 
 For this purpofe., he had recourfe to two of the moil 
 Famous Painters at that time in this City; to each of 
 whom he gave a Horfe to Paint, promiling, whoever 
 ihould excell the other, mould, over and above the 
 ftipulated Price, have a generous Gratuity. The two 
 Painters fet to Work,' and one painted the Sorrel fo. 
 wonderfully fine, that there wanted only Life and 
 Motion to make him a real Horfe; and he had kept 
 the Likenefs fo well, that a Man could hardly diitin- 
 guiih the Copy from the Original. The other drew 
 the Dapple-Grey, which indeed was, in the mainly a 
 fine Piece, but came far ííiort of the other in Per- 
 fection. This Painter, however, excelled in one 
 thing; for having placed his Horfe in an open Coun- 
 try, he reprelented under him fine Handicapes, *e- 
 
 ! 
 
4 The Ufe and A£l ions Part I. 
 
 neraMc Ruins, Superbe Antiquities, and divers good 
 Pieces of Modern Architecture, and over him he 
 drew fome fine Skyfchapes. All about him he left 
 Shrubs, Meads, and fmall Water-falls : Hard by, and 
 in the corner of the Piece, he hung all manner of 
 Horfc-Furniture on the decayed Trunk of a Tree, 
 placing a Hunting-Saddle at the foot of it, which, 
 for Workmanihip fcarce had its Equal. Thefe two 
 Pictures thus finiih'd, the Gentleman who employed 
 the Painters liked the Performance of the firft beft, 
 as he had a great deal of R^afon to do, paying him 
 not only what he had agreed for, but making him 
 .withall a liberal Prefent of a fine Ring. The other 
 Painter obferving how generoufly his Rival had been 
 dealt by, and conceiving a far greater Opinion of 
 himlelf, demanded an exceíííveRate for what he had 
 done; which the Gentleman being furpriz'd at, ask'd 
 him how he could require ib much, fince he faw 
 what he had juft then given for a Piece that was of 
 much greater Value ? As for my Brother's Horfe, an- 
 iwered this Painter, I have nothing to lay to it, it 
 may be it may excel mine; but, fure I am, my Land- 
 fchapes and Ruins deferve alone more than all his 
 Picture. As for your Landfchapes and Ruins, replied 
 the Gentleman, 1 had no occafion for them, we have 
 enough of thofe in our own Country ; all I defired was, 
 a true Reprefentation of the Horlè I gave you to 
 Paint, which, fince I could not carry away in the 
 Original, 1 had a mind to ihew to my Friends in a 
 good Copy. The Painter replied, A Horfe only in 
 iiich a large Piece as you required of me, would 
 have had but a very poor Effect, and therefore I was 
 obliged to accompany him with feveral Ornaments 
 and Accidents that might fet him off. Alfo, I thought 
 ib fine a Beait, without Bridle and Saddle ready to put 
 on him, would look as mean as a Beau without his 
 Equipage, or a fine Lady without her Toilet. Now I 
 bave taken Ço great Pains, proceeded he, about this 
 
 Bridle 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 5 
 
 Bridle and Saddle, by Embroidering, and the like, 
 that if ten times the Money you gave the other Pain- 
 ter were laid down for them, it would not above half 
 anfwer their Value. The Gentleman hearing all this 
 Bragadochio faid, and having already the Picture 
 he defired, told him fiftnkly, Sir I required only a 
 well painted Horfe from you, for which 1 am ready 
 to pay you what you can defire in Reafon ; but as for 
 your Horfe Furniture, your Ornaments and your Ac- 
 cidents, I have no occaiion for them, and therefore 
 defire you would difpofe of them to fome other Per- 
 fon. The Painter hearing what he was to truft to, 
 and finding the Gentleman refolved upon what he 
 faid, was fain to lower his Price, and take what he 
 could ^Qt. 
 
 How many People have we now a-days like this 
 Painter, who for their over-doing have been no bet- 
 ter recompenfed. A plain fimple Horfe is only re- 
 quired of them, and they give you him Bridled and 
 Saddled. If you defire any one to tell you a Story, 
 he'll be fure to lard it with fome trifling Digrefwns of 
 his own, the better, as he'l acquaint you, to fet it off. 
 No Horfe, though painted, can be in order, accord- 
 ing to thefe Story-Tellers, without a Bridle and Sad- 
 dle. This is my Father's Cafe, whole Life has been 
 impofed upon by Commentators, who will ever be 
 varying from the Truth : It is the Mode to do fo ; 
 and you fhall hardly come into any Company where 
 fomebody or other is not flander'd. Scarce any body 
 is fpared. When you come in, you fhall be loaded 
 with Compliments and Civilities ; and before you go 
 out, be torn to pieces with Flattery, or downright 
 Railing. My Parents were honeft enough, though 
 againft whole Reputation there might poflîbly be 
 fomething to be faid, as there is againft moil People's. 
 Who can be fo happy as not to be talk'd of ? Yo\i 
 may imagine, if I had been to chufe what part of the 
 
 B 2 Blood 
 
 I 
 
if The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Blood of Adam I would have defcended from, it 
 ihould have gone hard but I would have pitch' d upon 
 the pureft. But this is not a Matter in our Choice, 
 we muft not be our own Carvers ; every one muft be 
 content with what Lot has been affign'd him. He 
 that has fore-ordained thefe*Things knew well what 
 he did, and 'tis not for us to difpute it. Be his Name 
 for ever bleifed. If it pleafed him, I ihould have 
 natural Failings, yet were I well defcended, for La 
 Sangre fe hereda, y el Vicio fe apega, Blood is by Inheri- 
 tance, whereas Vice is Adventitious. He that is what 
 he ought to be, fliall be looked upon as he is, and 
 not be obliged to anfwer for the Iniquities of his 
 Parents. 
 
 As for my Father and Anceftors, they were Natives 
 of the Levant. They came to fettle at Genoa, and 
 were ingrafted with the Noblejfe, for which Reafon I 
 fhall term them Genoefes, tho' in truth they were 
 not born in that Country. Their Employment was 
 fuch as is generally pra&ifed by the Gentry of that 
 Commonwealth, vit,. Exchanging of Monies to all 
 Parts. This got them fome Refle&ions, and indeed 
 they were a little accufed of Ufury. They have 
 often been reproach'd with this Vice to their Faces, 
 but they were a patient, peaceable, mild fort of People, 
 and took no notice of it. When a Man does well, 
 he need not to value what is iaid of him, and every 
 Body knows this Trade has been always allow'd, and, 
 for ought I know, ever will be. It is every where 
 pra&ifed, and, perhaps, on account of our Siñs, more 
 here than elfewhere. But what I can never away 
 with, nor pretend to vindicate, is the Cuftom of 
 lending Money upon Pawns with exceilîve Intereft, 
 which in a little time, if the Pledge be not with* 
 drawn, fnall eat it up, and confume it. This I know is 
 jpra&iièd every Day, but which does not make it lefs 
 
 'Ülanous. Another fort of Roguery there is, called 
 
 * Can* 
 
 t 
 
Book I of Guzman d'Alfarache. 7 
 
 * Cambio Seco, or a dry kind of Ex- "Cambio Seco, isa. 
 chante, which finds nothing to an- *p cr y amo »Z Mer - 
 fwefit. Thefe mult needs be down- '¿%'fr a §?J™ 
 right Cheats, for we hear the Voice f rw ¿ Antwerp t\ 
 or Jacob, but feel the Hands of Bezanfon in Lo- 
 Efau. Though my Parents were ac- ™in, where there 
 cufed of thefe and the like Vil- J£¿?* ° r f r ' 
 lanies, yet I proteft, I never faw ^ZcTthf/ ji,ai°Z 
 any luch Thing by them , and remitted t$ Genoa 
 for that Reafon can abfolve them purely to gain Time 
 in my Confcience. As for what fa Payment. 
 generally goes by the Name of Exchange, it may 
 be pra&iièd either one way or the other, that is, well 
 or ill, and therefore I am not furpriz'd if fome Peo- 
 ple are refle&ed upon for their ill Practices that way ; 
 out what aftoniihes me is, that Pcrfons fhould be 
 flandered right or wrong, becaufe they deal in a Me- 
 thod that is fometimes liable to Ceniiire. 'Tis true, 
 if I faw a Religious Perfon enter a Houfe at Mid- 
 night through a Window, with a naked Sword in his 
 Hand, and a Buckler at his Girdle, I could not ima- 
 gine that Peribn was going to confefs any Sick Body. 
 But for fuch a Man as my Father, who prayed 
 daily, frequented Religious Exercifes, Communicated 
 duely every Month, and Confeifed himfelf as often 
 as there was occalion ; to think, I lay, that fuch a 
 Perfon would be guilty of Hypocrify, or the Villan- 
 ous Practices we have been fpeaking of, were down- 
 right Injuftice and Calumny. 1 can affure you on 
 my Word, he had a large Rojary of Fifteen compleat 
 Sections, out of which he was taught to Pray, 1 
 mean, in the Spanifo Tongue, and a great Chaplet of 
 Beads, whereof each was as big as a Hazle-Nut ; and 
 now, to fufpecl fuch a Man ! Thefe my Mother gave 
 him, which fhe in like mannerhad received from hers. 
 This Rofary, I can fafely fwear, was feldom or never 
 out of his Hands -, however, no Body can truly 
 judge of the Heart of Man but God, yet you iliould 
 
 B 4 fee 
 
8 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 fee him eyeiy Morning at Mafs, devoutly kneeling 
 on both Knees, with his Eyes caft up to Heaven, 
 his Hands lifted up and crofted upon his Breaft, and 
 then you ihould hear fuch Ejaculations and Sighs fly 
 from his Mouth., as were alone fufficient to infpire all 
 around him with true and flaming Devotion. But 
 Slander,when it has a mind tp attack any Body,does not 
 flick to do it even at the foot of the Altar ,- and I know 
 not how many reproachful Things were faid of him 
 upon this Occafion : Yet let good and difinterefted 
 People judge how perverfe and raih it is to pafs fo un- 
 charitable a Cenfure on One that appeared fo- truly 
 Religious. All this unkind and unjuft Ufage which 
 he had from the Inhabitants of Genoa, made him re- 
 folve to leave that Place; which he at length did, ta- 
 king occafion for his Departure, from the Breaking 
 of one of his Correfpondents at Sevil 3 with whom he 
 was but two much engaged. He embark'd then, 
 with defign to go and find that Perfon out ; but the 
 Ship, wherein he was, being taken by the Corfairs, he 
 was made a Slave, and carried with all that were 
 with him to Algiers. Now was my poor Father at his 
 Wits ends., very difconfolate, you may imagine, to 
 think he had not only loft his Money, but his liber- 
 ty to boot. His Fortune, neverthelefs, was to fall into 
 the Hands of a Rich old Patron, who had a young 
 and handfome Wife. My Father, as you'll find by 
 the Sequel, was both well made,' and had fly infinua- 
 ting Ways with him, which fuffiçiently won on his 
 Patron, who put entire Confidence in him, yet had 
 no lefs Influence on his Miftreis and Patrcneis. I will 
 not trouble you with the Particulars of this lait Af- 
 fair, my Father having never thoroughly acquainted 
 me with them ; all I think proper to tell you is, That 
 after a Years Slavery,' his Patron happening to die, his 
 Miftreis propofed to marry him, and give him all ihe 
 had got by her Husband's Death, provided he would 
 but turn Twh This was a great Trial for him to. un- 
 dergo., 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. p 
 
 dergo, but believe me, I have known Several for leis 
 Advantage run that Rifque, and I could bring 
 you divers Examples, if I pleafed, of that kind, and 
 thofe of our own Times ; for it has of late been but 
 too common for Men to make their Fortunes at the 
 Expence of Heaven. 'Tis true, my Father was a great 
 Religionift, and perfectly Devout, but then he was at 
 Algiers a Slave, and, that for ought he knew, during his 
 Life. On the other hand, he faw his Miftrefs both Rich 
 and Beautiful, and tho' the Step he was to take 
 was terrible, it was neverthelefs flippery. In ihort, 
 he complied with her Requeft, but tho' he con- 
 fented to turn Turk, he refolved not to die fo. It was 
 only to better his Fortune ; and how many have 
 we now a-days that would do the fame on a lefs Ac- 
 count. How many are there, I fay, that to fecure 
 their Fortunes, or acquire better, make a iliew of 
 one Religion, whilft in their Hearts they are of a 
 contrary Perfwafion. I know this is generally con- 
 demned A and, it may be, with Reafon, but it is never- 
 thelefs commonly pradifed. Intereft is a ftrange 
 thing, my Father was ever fubjed to it from his Cra- 
 dle, and indeed it was the Lar or Houihold-God of 
 his Family. I have often heard him talk of that Ge- 
 neration; for, thanks to my Stars, I never knew them. 
 He would, I fay, for Converfations fake, often tell 
 me, they were a fort of Animals who loved to get 
 what they could, but would part with nothing: That 
 with them Oaths and Lies coft little, efpecially where 
 they were to deny any thing had been entrufted 
 to them : That they took a great deal of Pains to 
 fee themfelves paid whatever was due to them,but never 
 cared to pay any Body what they themfelves ow'd : 
 That they lov'd to gain, and fpend freely, efpecially 
 where 'twas at another's Co**; but tho' they got 
 Money by Wholefale, they never lent it out but by 
 Driblets, andthatatexceffive Intereft, and upon good 
 Pawns, which were foon eat out by it. In a Word, 
 
 they 
 
ïo The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 they never parted with any thing they had got, tho' 
 never fo unjuftly, unlefs they were forced to it; and 
 fometimes too, they had the better of the Law by 
 the generous Fees they gave their Council. Many 
 more of thefe kind of Gallantries he told me of them, 
 .which I omit, as being nothing but what has been 
 pra&ifed before, and will ever be, I believe, as long 
 es the World lafts. But to return to my Fathers 
 Misfortune. 
 
 The News of his being taken by the Turks no 
 iboner came to Genoa, but it was known at Sevil 9 
 where his Rogue of a Correfpondent having notice 
 of it, he greatly rejoiced, for he was his principal 
 Creditor ; and having thus got rid of him, he doubted 
 not but ibon to get clear of the reft. For this pur- 
 pofe he fet about a fmallCompofition, as is cuftomary 
 for Bankrupts to do, which, however, was eafily ac- 
 cepted ; and having fome Money left, he foon paid 
 off every Body but my poor Father, whom he de- 
 íign'd never to pay, though he ow'd him more than 
 all of them together. Being thus, as he thought, a 
 clear Man, he began to fet up for Trading a-new, 
 tho' all his Effects were owing to other People's 
 LoiTes. My Father, who had ever this Villain in his 
 Thoughts, fought all Opportunities to write to Spain, 
 that he might hear what was become of him, and at 
 length he received Advice that he had ended his Matters, 
 and was become a new Trader, having greater Bufi- 
 nefs than ever. This was fo far from nettling my 
 Father, that he greatly rejoiced at it, fuppofing by 
 that Means one time or other to get himfelf paid, 
 and wherein he was not dilappointed. 'Tis true, he 
 had turn d Turk, and married a Moor, but that did 
 bot trouble him, for he look'd upon himfelf never 
 the more a Mahometan for wearing a Turbant. He 
 ■doubted not but to make up all thofe Matters with 
 jus Wife's Money, which he defign'd to carry off as 
 £bon as he could. With this View, he told her he was 
 
 defiroijs 
 
Book I. of Guzman d* Alfarache. 1 í 
 
 defirous to Trade ; and that as part of her Fortune 
 lay in Lands, it was but reafonable fhe íhould turn it 
 into Money for that end. She eafily confented, and 
 ib having got all her Portables in a readineis, his next 
 Bufinefs was to find an honeft Chriftian Captain, 
 who, out of confideration of his Misfortune, might 
 deliver him from his Apoftacy, by tranfporting him 
 to his own Country. He luckily lit on an Englijhman, 
 who tho' he was perfwaded of the fincerity of his 
 Intentions to return into the Bofom of his Mother- 
 Church, yet demanded of him tooo Chejuim for that 
 piece of Service, if he did it for him. My Father 
 offer'd him 200, but the Captain told him, he could 
 not run the rifque of lofing his Life and VeiTel for 
 fo little, and fo he was obliged to give him 600. 
 The Bargain thus ftruck, and right Meafures taken, 
 my Father embarked on board his Skiff, for it was 
 no better, and before any Difcovery was made of 
 their Departure, they were got half over to Malaga, 
 where they foon after arrived. This was a proper 
 Place for my Father to land at, becaufe he had not 
 from thence above 30 or 40 Leagues to S evil ; whi- 
 ther he was impatient to go in queft of his Bankrupt. 
 At his landing, his firft Thought was to get recon- 
 ciled to the Church, which he had offended by his 
 Apoftacy, and therefore he immediately went tó 
 fome Monh of his Acquaintance, to whom, you may 
 imagine, he did not give an imperfed Account of his 
 Slavery and Sufferings, for he was naturally Eloquent, 
 ^nd a good Comedian. In fhort, he fo far touch'd 
 the Pious Fathers with his Tears and lamentable 
 Story, that he foon obtain'd Abfolution for his Crime, 
 and was again received into the Arms of the Church. 
 Being got rid of an Affair of fo great importance, 
 his next Thoughts pointed direcftly towards S evil, 
 whither he foon after came altogether unexpected 
 by his Correfpondent, who was not a little iurprifed 
 to fee him next morning at his Levée, drefs'd more 
 
 like 
 
1 1 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 like a Gentleman, than a Slave. The News of my Fa- 
 ther's Apoftacy had got long before him to Sevil, 
 and therefore the Correfpondent, upon firft fight of 
 him, could not but believe him to be a Spirit in 
 that Form ; however he was foon recovered from his 
 Aítoniíhment by my Father's demanding an Account 
 from him, but as they had had long Commerce together, 
 which was interwoven with a great deal of Roguery 
 on both fides, and which does not ufe to be entred 
 on Traders Books, he had a great Advantage of my 
 Father, by denying abundance of Shares in Villany 
 which were neverthelefs due to him. Even among 
 Thieves there's a Religious Obfervation of fome un- 
 warrantable Things ; but this Rogue was worfe than 
 a Thief in that particular, for he would own nothing 
 but what could be proved againft him. At length, 
 after many Papers Pro and Con, Receipts given and 
 taken, Demands and Replies, Reproaches, hard 
 Words and Returns, an Accomodation was agreed 
 upon, that my Father ihould lofe a confiderable deal 
 of what he demanded. Of any precious Liquor 
 fpilt, we muft recover what we can. My Father 
 was well advifed at Malaga, when he was told he 
 muft rid himfelf of the Itch of Algien, otherwifë he 
 had not got a Penny of this Dog, who was Rogue 
 enough to have given the Fathers of the Inquifition 
 half of the Debt to have difpatched him out of the 
 way. But fince this was not in his Power, what Re- 
 ports did he fpread about the poor Man through Se- 
 nj'd ? What a Nbife did he make of the two times that 
 he broke, which indeed were not without Fraud -, but 
 'where are the Merchants that can always honourably 
 acquit themfelves under this Misfortune ? Is this Pra- 
 ctice of repairing one's ihatter'd Fortune at another's 
 Expence fo new in the World ? No, it is nothing among 
 Merchants, and nothing has always been fo common; 
 for they eafily make one another amends by recipro- 
 cal Failing. If it were fo great a Crime as fome 
 
 may 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarachá 13 
 
 may imagine, would not Juftice, think yon, ibon flop 
 the Progrefs of it ; but, on the contrary, we fee e- 
 very Day one or other break, and for one that is 
 puniilied, a thoufand go fcot-free ? And now pray 
 whence do you think all this comes ? Is it not, that 
 the Bankrupts have Money enough to clog the courfe 
 of Juftice, by feeing thole that are to puniih them ? 
 What is not to be done with Money ? You need 
 not wonder at this fo much, for it is what is pradifed 
 every Day, and there are thofe that make a Trade of 
 it. Good God ! You'l cry, but what can they pre- 
 tend to the Confeffor ? Why the fame they do to the 
 Courts of Juftice. Give him but Money,and he will find 
 fome way or other to excufe you. God alone will not fuf- 
 fer himfelf to be either corrupted or deceived ; but as for 
 Confeflbrs, they refer the Matter to the other World, 
 and leave the Criminal by his Crime to live fplen- 
 didly in this. He may probably have time to repent 
 and implore Mercy, and that's all the Care is taken 
 of him. Believe me, of all the Ads of a good Chri- 
 ftian, Reftitution is what is leaft pradifed. A Man 
 ihall live well as to other Particulars, give Alms, re- 
 lieve the Oppreifed, comfort the Sick, and the like ; 
 but when you come to demand of him what has been 
 ill got, he turns his Deaf-Ear to you. Tell him but 
 his Father or his Unkle have ulèd indired and un- 
 lawful Means to procure an Eftate he is in Poifeffion 
 of; that they got their Caufe more by Intereft than 
 Right ; and let him be never fo much a Zealot, he 
 will not be moved at fo unwelcome an Harangue. 
 And then as to Reputation, which is a Thing that 
 ought to be valued next to Life, who is there that 
 takes care to reftore it after they have taken it from 
 one ? No Body, certainly ; for every one dies a Liar, 
 as he has liv'd a Slanderer. This they look upon as 
 a Trifle, a ftroke of Wir, a foft Revenge, a War 
 without Blood-ihed ; and, in a Word, a Thing that is 
 to be given and taken reciprocally without Offence. 
 But let's return to fpeak of my Father. Í 
 
i 4 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 I can hardly forgive him the two Breakings before- 
 mentioned, although he was my Father ; for if I am 
 a Friend to Tlato, I muft be more fo to Truth. Con- 
 forming my felf therefore to that Saying of the Phi- 
 lofopher, The World muft excufe me if I think this 
 Crime a greater than that on the Highway, and 
 more worthy of Puniihment. Hold, cries one of 
 thefe Gentlemen, who begins to find himfelf ftung, 
 You are too forward, methinks, Sir; Pray where did 
 you read that this was fo great a Crime ? In what 
 Author, I befeech you ? Will fuch an Ideot, Gaily- 
 Slave, and Hang-Dog as you, pretend to make Laws 
 for others, when you defervetheworft of Puniihments 
 for your own Crimes ? Not fo fail, I prithee, Good 
 Friend, reply I; If I am any ways to blame in this Parti- 
 cular, it is meerlybecaufe I have pretended to giveLef- 
 fonstoluchas will never receive them, neither from me 
 nor any Body elfe. I would patiently endure all the 
 ill Names you are pleafed to give me, which to my 
 Misfortune are but too juft, if I could but apply the 
 lead Remedy to your Crimes, that is, have got you and 
 my Father fairly hang'd, as you very well deferv'd. 
 But let the Matter go as it will, fince, as you fay, 
 it is none of my Bufinefs to make Laws ; and fince 
 there are Crimes, of as great Importance, which need 
 reforming as much as this. Let the Perfons, whoie 
 employment it is, take care of that ; for my part, I 
 will fay no more of it at this time. 
 
 My Father's Correfpondent did not content him- 
 felf with abufing him only on the Score of thefe two 
 Breakings; but, through a Diabolical Spirit of Ven- 
 geance, went about to reveal an Affair which had 
 been laid to fleep with Money, and which related to 
 the counterfeiting of a certain Bill of Exchange, 
 wherein, as we lay, he was to have the Alcalde or 
 Judge for his Father, and the Notary for his God^ 
 father. Now, among many other excellent Qualities 
 my Father was Matter of, you muft know one., and 
 
 *** thac 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache.' 15 
 
 that none of the leaft, was, that he could coun- 
 terfeit Hands to a Miracle. This you may imagine 
 was no eafy Thing to do, but he had it ad unguent. 
 What induced him to it, was the many Perplexities he 
 lay under, and which came fo thick upon him, and 
 all of a fudden,' that he was forced in a manner to 
 ieek out for Money to ihield him againft the Sword 
 of Juftice. His Plot however did not take, he was 
 difcovered in his Roguery ; and, to fave himlelf from 
 Punifhment, was fain to give the Alcalde and Notary 
 each of them a good Purle of Gold, which drained 
 himib much, that he was obliged at laft to Break again. 
 'Tis true he had fome advantage by Breaking, having 
 the ufe, or I might better iay, Propriety of other 
 People's Money for nothing ; but then he had like- 
 wife fome Lofs too, for his going off was not alto- 
 gether fo fraudulent, but he had caufe to repent of 
 it, and had perhaps fome reafon to exclaim againft 
 both the Judge and Notary. As forjudges, there are 
 both good and bad among them ; but for Notaries, 
 good God ! where are any to be found that acquit 
 themfelves honeftly in that Calling ! I mult hereupon 
 tell you a Story. One Friday in Lent, a certain Prea- 
 cher whom I went to hear at St. Giles s Church in Ma- 
 drid ', where he Preached before the Grand Council, 
 happening to fpeak of the Oflicers.of Juftice, began 
 with the Chief-Jufhicc, and came down to the Notary, 
 whom he reièrv'd for the laft • " See here, laid he, my 
 <c Chariot fticks, it will not move a jot further for th'a 
 u Mud and Mire that furrounds it • and unlefs an 
 Cf Angel from Heaven is once more pleafed to defcend" 
 <c and difturb the Water, I know not how I ihall get 
 <c out of this Whirlpool. I muit needs fay, Gentle- 
 rc men, added he, That forthefe 30 Years that I have 
 f been a Confeifor, I have not known one of the 
 u many Thoufands I have Confeifed, except fome 
 "' few Notaries, but who, tho' he might have re- 
 :c turnd fêterai times to his Sins, has at length, 
 
 through 
 
i 6 The Ufe and Anions Part I 
 
 cc through the Grace of God, fo thoroughly reform'd 
 fc his Lire, as to become a new Man. The Wencher 
 ff has in time come to a Senfe of his Folly, in keep- 
 fC ing a Baggage that Nos'd him. The Gamefter 
 ff is reel aim'd from his Paiîîon for Play, by being con- 
 " vinced he is made a Property of by fomePerfons that 
 cc are more expert at it than himfelf. The Thief, or 
 :c Robber, quits at length his infamous Life, either 
 <c through Shame, or the fear of a Halter. The Slan- 
 <c derer hearkens to thewholfome Advice is given him 
 ff by his Friends, and leaves off Railing. The haughty 
 cc proud Man becomes at lait fenfible of his human 
 fc Infirmities, and allows he is nothing but Organiz'd 
 :c Clay. As for the Liar, the bare Turpitude of that 
 <c Vice makes him to quit it, as well as the many Affronts 
 ff and HifTes he undergoes daily on that Account. 
 ,f Laftly, The prefumptuous Blafphemer is reform'd 
 cc from his horrible Impiety, either by the Reprehen- 
 fc fions of his Kindred or Friends. In a Word, I 
 cc have known of all thefe Sinners that have bid fair 
 [ c for Heaven, and ihewid confiderable Inftances of 
 ,f Amendment. But for Notaries , Good God! of 
 cc whom fome few have fallen into my Hands, I have 
 " not met with one who has difcovered the leaft To- 
 " ken of Repentance. They are to Day what they 
 " were Yefterday, and will be to Morrow, and to 
 fC Lives end, what they have been ever been 
 Cf from their Births ; that is, the fame Rogues ftill. 
 " I know not who their Confeifors are, and cannot 
 cc but wonder how any Body can give them Abfolu- 
 cc tion. They not only live 111, but pradice Wicked- 
 fC nefs inceífantly. For two Ducats they'l write what- 
 " ever you'd have them, though it extend • to the 
 tc greateft Injuftice, and never let a he or ihe Crimi- 
 <c nal fuffer, if they have but Money to ballance their 
 <c Crimes. They rob this good Man of his Honour 
 tf and Eftate, and that innocent Perfon of his Life ; 
 <( and for a few Pence, will make even the greateft 
 /, « Oifender 
 
Book I, of Guzman d'Alfarache. 17 
 
 c c Offender appear blameleis. They are fuch infatiable 
 ( ' Hunters after other Mens Properties, that they 
 c c hardly leave them., that have the Misfortune to have 
 f c to do with them wherewithal to keep the Wolf 
 c from the Door ; and have moreover fuch a knack 
 cc at converting anothers ' Subftance into their own, 
 tc that I believe the very Devil himfelf could not wreit it 
 fc from them. All this makes me apt to think, if any 
 ' f of theie Harpies mould have the happineís to be 
 rc fav'd, (which, neverthelefs, I look upon to be next 
 cc to ImpofTibility) the Angel that guards the Gate of 
 <{ Paradice would give the Word to his Brethren 
 " within,That they ihould make more than ordinary Re- 
 <c joicing, for that a Notary was come to Heaven ! 
 Here the Preacher ended his Moral Reflection, 
 and proceeded to the Application, which I fhali 
 omit. 
 
 Thefe Notaries, to excufe themfelves for all theie 
 ill Practices, will tell you, the World is not now as it 
 was formerly ; that now-a-days People muft live as 
 they can, fince they cannot do fo as they would ¿ 
 that Expences become greater every Day, and new 
 Taxes are fucceffively invented to burden us with. 
 They will likewife let you know they had not their 
 Places for nothing, and therefore may be reafonably 
 allowed fome by-ways to reimburfe themfelves ; and 
 berides, they'l above all acquaint you how many Va- 
 cations there are in the Year, and that they ihould ftarve 
 if they were not fometimes well paid for their Work. 
 How unhappy and miferable is the Condition of a 
 Man, when he is fore'd to make ufe of fuch weak 
 Reafons to palliate fo great Crimes ! 
 
 Let us next come to the Judges, who are fuppofed 
 to give nothing for their Places, and therefore can- 
 not have the fame Excufes the Notaries bring, in cafe 
 they ihould be fuch Rafeáis as to have occalion for them. 
 Now of all the Rocks that are in this Sea of the 
 World, (for the World in fome Meafure may be pro- 
 
 C perty 
 
1 8 The Life and Anions Part Í. 
 
 perly laid to be a Sea,) none are fo apt to Shipwreck 
 one as thefe Judges Poits. A Man that accepts any 
 of them, had need to examine himfelf well before 
 he enters upon his Office, for when he is once in, he 
 is apt to do as his Predeceifors have done before him. 
 Judges are in Striftnefs God's Vicegerents, or rather 
 Earthly Gods themfelves. But, good Heaven ! What 
 Gods of this kind have we now-a-days upon Earth I 
 To be convinced, we need only examine after what 
 manner Juftice is now adminiftred. We need only 
 lee, whether any Caufe, Civil or Criminal, be now 
 judged according to the Rules of Reafon and Juftice,- 
 or whether Intereft, Revenge, or fome iuch-like 
 finifter Ends, have not the greater Share in its Deter- 
 mination. How terrible a Thing is this to refled 
 upon, and how little are thefe Men acquainted with 
 thofe they prefume to reprefent I How much Blood 
 and Injuitice have they to account for before the 
 King of Kings, whom they have this way not a lit- 
 tle offended ! How much Money have they to re- 
 itore to thofe they have fo egregioufly wrong'd Î 
 Thefe are fo many Truths, as a Chriftian can never 
 doubt of, and which can never offend any but fuch 
 as have renounced that Name. What ! ihall the Life, 
 Honour, Eftate, Fortune, or Quiet of a Man, be en- 
 tirely at your Difpofal, becaufe it has pleafed God 
 and your Prince to let you be the Judge of them ac- 
 cording to Equity and Juftice; and yet will you pre- 
 iiime to pronounce your Decilions wholly out of a pri- 
 vate Peke,particular Intereft,or unaccountable Inclina- 
 tion ï A Caufe that you* might have ended in 
 24 Hours, will you extend to as many Years, pure- 
 ly becaufe you have fome By-end, or are affraid to 
 difoblige fome great Lord who has recommended it 
 to you ? A poor Wretch that you have kept for ma- 
 ny Years in Prifon, ihall be ill treated, abufed and 
 negleded, becaufe he has no Body to folicit for him, 
 nor Money to bribe your Injuitice ¡ when at the fame 
 
 time» 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. i? 
 
 time, another, who is a thoufand times more guilty, 
 ihall be prote&ed by you for his Pence againft all 
 Evidence and Vcrdifts. Is this, Gentlemen Judges, 
 what you call doing your Duty? It were well for you 
 if the World were Eternal, as fome have falily 
 dreamt, or that you might never die, for whenever 
 you do, you'll have a tine Account to give to your 
 Maker, i ou'll have a fine Account, I fay, to give of 
 your Extortions, Bribes, falfe Judgments, Cruelties, 
 and the like, which an everlafting Gulph of Sulphur 
 can only recompence, and Hell-fire duly reward. 
 Thefe are not Fables, Gentlemen, that I aiTert to 
 you, but eternal Truths, which are as immutable and 
 durable as the Divine Being. 
 
 But let's fay no more of thefe Judges, for if wefhould 
 pretend to go through with their Crimes, a large 
 Volume would hardly contain them, and which, for 
 its Prolixity, might juftly deferve to be burnt, as 
 well as the Subjects of it. Let it fuffice to affirm 
 in one Word, That almoft whatever belongs to them 
 is Criminal. They are, 'tis true, the Expounders of 
 the Law, but how they do it, every Day convinces 
 us. A certain Peafant, who folicited hard a Suit at 
 Granada, which his Parifh had with the Lord of the 
 Place, coming one Day into the New Square, flood 
 gazing at the Door of the Chancery, which is one of 
 the fineft Buildings in all Spain. Over this Door the 
 King's Arms was fupported by Jujtice and Fortitude, 
 which caufed our Country-man to make feveral Re- 
 flections. Another Country-fellow of the fame Pa- 
 riih, who knew what this came about, feeing him fo 
 attentive, ask'd what he Hard at fo earneftly, and 
 why he did not go in to folicit his Bulinefs ? The 
 firft Country-man anfwer'd, I find I have nothing to 
 do here. How, faid the other, did not you come to 
 folicit our Caufe? Yes, replied this, I did; but fince 
 Juftice is 'placed fo high, and has on one fide the 
 King's- Arms, and on the other Force, what can our 
 
 C 2 poor 
 
 i 
 
I 
 
 2 o The Life and Aiïions Part I. 
 
 poor Parifh expeft ! It were better for me to return 
 home, than ftay waiting here, for I find our Caufe 
 is loft. 
 
 My Father's Correfpondent attack'd him farther 
 as to what related to his Perfon, affirming, he took 
 more Care to fet himfelf out than a tawdry Woman 
 could. 'Tis true, being a handfome Man, as I have 
 already infinuated, and no hater of the Fair Sex, he 
 negle&ed nothing that might render himfelf accepta- 
 ble to them, which is not only natural, but allowable 
 for any one to do, that has a mind to make himfelf 
 belov'd. I muft own he friz'd his Hair, perfumed 
 himfelf from Head to Foot, and took more than or- 
 dinary Care of his Teeth and fine Hands, for which 
 laft he had a Particular and moil Excellent kind of 
 Pafte. I likewife confefs he took a great deal of 
 Pains about his Muflachos, which were duly turn'd 
 up every Night with Wax, and Inftruments made on 
 purpofe. "Tis alfo true, that a-Nights, before he 
 went to Bed, he provided two Curls for his Temples, 
 which the Women now-a-days call Favourites ; and 
 that he was every Morning at his Glafs, tricking him- 
 felf up with the like Fooleries. Moft of this I was 
 an Eye-witnefs of whilft he liv'd, and could not but 
 think him highly to blame for minding fuch Trifles 
 at his Age. But what of all this ; was he to be re- 
 puted ever the lefs honeft for thefe Things ! He lov'd 
 Women, and herein he imitated their Follies. This 
 is all can be faid upon this Head. But as for Painting, 
 and the like, as this Villain of a Correfpondent gave 
 out he did, I pofitively affirm it to be falfe, or at leaft 
 aifure you, I never faw any fuch Thing,and I was almoft 
 always with him. My Father had no occafion for 
 any thing of that kind, having as good a Complexion 
 as any Body. He was fair, and of that ibrt enclining 
 to reddifh, which People never want a good Skin ; 
 and as for his Carnations, they held very good to the 
 laft. If he ufed Red in any part, it was his Lips, 
 
 which 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 2 1 
 
 which were not fo well colour'd as could be defired. 
 My Father had moreover this Ridiculous in him, for 
 I would have you to believe I would not fpare him 
 where he was blameworthy, in that he waftYd his 
 Neck and Breaft every Night and Morning with 
 Milk and bitter Almonds foak'd in it, and fometimes 
 with Bean-flower Water. But this is a Thing fo com- 
 mon among Beaux, that one may fee Examples of 
 it every Day in the Week. 
 
 For my part, who, thanks to my Stars, have not 
 ièen a little of the World, I have known not only 
 young Men that have Plaifter'd, Painted, and wore 
 Patches, but alfo old Leaehers, who made ufe of 
 thofe fort of Arts to make themfelves yet more de- 
 fornfd ; and who, when once their Cruft was off, 
 were hardly to be known : But thefe People were 
 look'd upon as Merry -Andrews; and tho' they happen'd 
 by thefe Means to enfnare the Hearts of Women, 
 they were fure to belaugh'd at by the Men, efpecially 
 thofe of Sence. After this, we cannot blame Women 
 ib much for thefe fort of Follies, fince Men that are, 
 or ought to be, wifer, pra&ife the fame thing. Not- 
 withitanding, it is certain, that Natural Deformity 
 pleafes even beyond this artificial Beauty. Nothing 
 charms more than N attire, and one lofes half the 
 Pleafure of a Thing asioon as it difcovers it felf to 
 be Artificial. What makes me always laugh is, that 
 thofe Women who paint moll, {till think to deceive the 
 cleareft-fighted Men, and imagine they know no- 
 thing of the Matter. 'Tis true, they may impofe 
 upon Sots and Dotards, who are blinded by the Paf- 
 fion they have for them ; but fuch as have the Ufe of 
 their Eyes, and the Freedom of their Hearts, will 
 never look upon them but with Contempt. Women 
 likewife are not fo much to be reproach'd with the 
 ufe of their Toilet, fince I have known a great many 
 Men guilty of the fame Folly; I mean, not only fuch 
 as were young and handfome, but even old decrepit 
 
 Ç 5 .Fellows, 
 
2 2 The Life and A£i ions Part I. 
 
 Fellows, who, one would think, fhould have other 
 Bufinefs to mind. Some, however, among thefe fufty 
 old Wretches, tho' thus Artfully difguiz'd, ihall be- 
 lieve themfelves as beautiful as Angels. I was never 
 more fui'priz'd, than the other Day upon entring the 
 Chamber of one of thefe Narcijjms. It was about 
 Ten a Clock in the Morning ; I went to folicit him 
 about a certain Bufinefs, and as I was particularly ac- 
 quainted with him, I enter'd freely without knocking. 
 I thought to have found him in his Clofet reading 
 or writing, or about fome important Affair, and was 
 not a little difappointed to fee him at his Toilet. 'Tis 
 true, I had been told more than once that he valued 
 himfelf on his Beauty, and thought no Man could be 
 more proper to charm a Lady ; but that I look'd 
 upon as Railery, altho' he had fuch Geftures with 
 him when he was in Women's Company, as were 
 enough to make any Body laugh. He would then 
 put on the Languifhing Air, roul his Ferret-Eyes a- 
 bout, draw up his Mouth to half its Bignefs, bite his 
 Lips, and endeavour to foften his harih Voice. Now 
 judge, by the remaining part of hisPi&ure, if he was 
 not a fine Fellow to charm a- Lady : His Face was 
 neither little nor great, but both together, the upper 
 part being wholly difporti^i'd to the lower, and 
 which, for length, might outmeaiure a Foot. His 
 Complexion was neither fair nor brown, but reddiih, 
 and all over itudded with blewifh Pimples. His Eyes 
 were not much larger than a Ferret's, and, like them, 
 red and fiery, promifing a great deal of Luft, and 
 very little Honefty. His Nofe was fmall, and a little 
 turn'd up at the tip, with two large Noftrils, that 
 gap'd fo wide, you might fee the bottoms of them, 
 and frriell what would not very well pleafe you. His 
 Mouth, to fpeak properly, was like nothing fo much 
 
 as a Hen's A , and not lefs wrinkled. What re- 
 
 main'd of his Teeth, for moil of them had been 
 
 cough'd out, -were between black and yellow, and 
 
 ■ ■ ■ v¿ alto- 
 
! 
 
-tel. I. 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 2 5 
 
 altogether left without Gums by the Scurvy. The 
 beít Thing about him was his Chin, which being 
 little, and cock'd up, had fomething of Beauty in it. 
 As for his Shape, it was wholly Dutch, as were like- 
 wife his Limbs, which were ftrong and robuit. His 
 Legs were like two large Pofts, all of a hignefs, and 
 his Feet altogether as Monftrous. His Hands were 
 to the full as broad as they were long, and his Arms 
 of equal Proportion. Now judge you, if this was 
 not a rare Fellow to have fiich an Opinion of him- 
 felf ! If he had any thing to recommend him to the 
 Ladies, 'twas his brawny Back, which indeed pro- 
 mifed much, and, perhaps, might take with them. It 
 was one Morning, then about Ten a Clock, that I went 
 to pay a Vifit to this beautiful Adonis. I furpriz'd him at 
 his Toilet fo fardled up, that I knew not whether it was a 
 Man or aWcman,nnd was about to have retired,as thin k- 
 ing my felf miftaken in the Chamber. He was like- 
 wife aftoniihed on his part, and the more ib, becauie 
 I had found him in that Condition. Quitting his 
 Curling-Pincers he had in his Hand, and throwing 
 off his Combing-Cloth, which, by the by, was as fat 
 and durty with Oil and Powder as a Cook's Apron 
 with Greafe, he ran to embrace me, and carry me 
 into his Anti-Chamber, that I might not lee what 
 was upon his Toilet. There indeed was a compleat 
 Apothecary's Shop, abounding with Paftes, Poma- 
 tums, Effences, Paint, Dentifrices, Perfumes, &c. 
 treafur'd up in Gallypots, GlaiTes, and the like. Ha- 
 ving thus furveyed his whole Treafury, tho' he thought 
 I had not, I had a Word or two with him in the next 
 Room about my Bufinefs, arid fo left him. 
 
 C 4 CHAP. 
 
24 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Guzman goes on with an Account of hk Parents, 
 and tells who hk Mother was 5 deferring, for our 
 better Injirnffion, the evil Condition and had 
 Qualities of a lewd Woman 5 of Bawds $ of a 
 Senfual and Lajcivions Man 5 and concludes^ that 
 difljonejl Love k the Ruin of a Mans Honour, 
 B/late and Life, 
 
 Ah L thefe Stories and Inventions, as well falie 
 as true, which this curfed Correfpondent of 
 my Father's, who was by the by a good Tongue-Pad, 
 had publiih'd of him throughout Scuil, had like to 
 have had Credit with the Inhabitants of that City where 
 he was not fufficiently known, had not he fo well 
 bchav'd himfelf by his modeit and juft Dealing, as 
 to gain both the Èfteem and Friendihip of the bell 
 Merchants there. Fie had brought a good Purfe of 
 Money with him from Algiers, which, with what he 
 could fell his Jewels for, might amount to at leaft 
 20000 Francs. He recover'd no lefs of his Correfpon- 
 dent , all which was neverthelefs but little with him, 
 who had all along been a great Trader. No 
 Body made greater noife than he upon the Exchange , 
 and whiift he play'd the honeft Man, and kept to his 
 Bufinels, nc Body fucceeded better. He hada Houfe 
 in Town, and another in the Country, both which 
 were nobly Furniih'd, and the latter at St. Juan d'Al- 
 firacbe, from whence I took my Name, was in great 
 ineafure the Caufe of his Ruin. As he naturally 
 lov'd Pleafare, he would be there almoft continually, 
 and truil his Affairs in Town to Fa&ors and Servants, 
 who would' not fail to make what ufe they could of 
 
 their 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 25 
 
 their Opportunities. Finding this would not do, he 
 had recourfe to Play, which, with many other irre- 
 gular and expenfiveWays, foon brought him low, and 
 in the end empties the fulleft Purfes. He was in this 
 Condition, when being one Day at the Exchange in 
 Sevil near the great Church, wnere the Merchants, 
 walking in a kind of Gallery, eafily fee all that 
 paiTes in the Street, he of a fudden difcover'd a 
 Chriitning coming that way, which feem'd to be- 
 long to fome Perlons of Diftin&ion. Immediately 
 every Body was for feeing what they could, efpecial- 
 ly when they heard it whifper'd about, that the Child 
 belong'd to fome Perfon of Quality who did not care 
 to own it. My Father, being as curious as any Body, 
 prefs'd forward to get into the Church, and planted 
 himfelf near the Font, not fo much out of a Defire 
 to fee this Ceremony, as the Face of a certain Lady 
 whom a Knight of the Order of Alcantara led, and 
 whom he judg'd to be probably the Goilips to this 
 Child. The Lady had a good Air, was well Shap'd, 
 walk'd briskly; and my ^Father concluded, if her 
 Face was but anfwerable, fhe muft be a lovely Wo- 
 man. He was not difappointed, for upon her un- 
 veiling her felf, as fhe did foon after, he was charm 'd 
 to Admiration, for fhe had not her Equal for Beauty 
 at that time in all Stvil. This Lady was afterwards 
 my Mother, whom this good Knight had maintain'd 
 for fome time out of the Profits of two lufty Bene- 
 fices he enjoy'd. My Father gaz'd, like a Statue, on 
 this incomparable Charmer, and flood as if he had 
 been Thunder-ftruck during the whole Ceremony. 
 My Mother was one of thofe Women who eafily re- 
 ceive Impreflîon at firft Sight, from one fo well made 
 as my Father ; and therefere ihe no fooner faw him 
 look fo earneftly at her, but ihe let him underitand, 
 his Addreifes would not be indifferent to her. This 
 gave him great Sarisfa&ion; to augment which, ihe 
 let fly a tender Look or two, which, in a Word, quite 
 
 u.n nd 
 
26 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 undid him. The Chriftning ended, the Knight and 
 Lady return'd from whence they came, but my Fa- 
 ther could hardly move from the Place where he 
 ftood ; however, at length he recover'd, and did not 
 forget to follow his Miftrefs, that he might know 
 who fhe was, and where ihe liv'd. Upon Enquiry, 
 he found ihe was kept by this old Knight, whom fhe 
 had liv'd with a good while. He could not imagine 
 ihe could have any kindnefs for fuch an ungainly old 
 Hunks, and therefore concluded his Addreifes mufl 
 needs be welcome to her. With this Thought, he con- 
 triv'd all the Ways he could to fee and fpeak to her, but to 
 little purpofe ; all the Favour he obtain'd of Fortune was, 
 to fee her once or twice at Church, but which was al- 
 ways with her old Gallant, who could not live a 
 Minute without her. Neverthelefs, as Water at length 
 pierces Marble, my Father, by trying many Ways to 
 carry on his Amour, at laft met with a Duenna pro- 
 per for his purpofe, who being outwardly Religious, 
 had eafy Admittance into the Knight's Houfe with- 
 out being in the leaft miftrufted. This old Woman, 
 who did nothing but Pray from Morning till Night, 
 was withal very Charitable, and having received fe- 
 veral confiderable Prefents from my Father, with a 
 Promife of many piore, thought fhe muft not be un- 
 grateful,, but make what Return ihe could by do- 
 ing him what Service ihe was able. Accordingly 
 fhe efpous'd his Intereft, ipoke to the Lady about 
 him, and altho' ihe did not lucceed immediately, did 
 not doubt but ihe ihould with the Affiftance of' more 
 Money. That was not wanting, for my Father find- 
 ing her Natural Bent, ftill took care to foreftall her 
 Inclinations, being Generous even to Prodigality, 
 efpecially where his Love was concern'd. The Duen- 
 na did her Duty, and ihe was well paid for her Pains. 
 Billet-doux went and came, and Jewels and other Fe- 
 male Gallantries were prefented as often as there was 
 occafion. No Body has a Heart of Iroa, and if Gra- 
 titude 
 
Book L of Guzman d'Alfarache. 27 
 
 titude were expell'd out of the World, God knows 
 what we ihould come to. You muft not wonder 
 then if my Mother, who was not born with the Dif- 
 pofition of a Tigrefs, yeilded fo far to my Father's 
 Perfeverance and generous Temper, as to take fome 
 notice of him. The old Woman, who was a true 
 Subftitute of Satan, was not wanting to blow the 
 Coals, by every Day fuggefting to my Mother, what 
 fine Qualities my Father was Mailer of. My Mother 
 was as fenfible as ihe of what fhe fuggefted, but be- 
 ing a Woman of Wit, had more regard to her Intereft 
 than any thing elfe : She knew ihe could have Lovers 
 enough upon uncertain Terms, but ihe was willing 
 to be fatisfi'd of the Condition of her new Gallant, 
 before ihe ventur'd upon him, and before ihe quitted 
 her old Knight, who was fo kind to her, and doted 
 fo much upon her. Love, however, is generally pre- 
 valent, and whenever the Parties are agreed, Moun- 
 tains fhall divide to give them way, and Darkneis 
 prefent it felf at Noon-Day to conceal them. The 
 old Knight had no other Charms but his Ducats ; he 
 Cough'd, he Spawl'd, was incommoded with the 
 Gravel, and oftentimes with the Gout : He poifefs'd 
 my Mother weakly, whereas my Father attack'd her 
 vigoroufly. How then could a Town fo ill defended, 
 and fo couragioufly ftorm'd, be expe&ed to hold out ? 
 She yielded at laft, but that upon honourable Terms, 
 which ihe had learn'd to make of my Grandmother, 
 who was alfo a Woman of Experience. My Father 
 granted all Demands, provided he might but enter 
 the Place, and the Articles were perform'd on both 
 fides with great pun&uality. The only Difficulty 
 now, was to get an Opportunity and Place of Inter- 
 view ; for, as I told you before more than once, the 
 old Knight was fo infeparable from his Miftrefs, that 
 nothing almoft could be tranfaited without his Pri- 
 vity. However, my Father and Mother contriv'd the 
 Matter thus : She propos'd to the old Gentleman to 
 
 go 
 
a 8 The Life and Allions Parti. 
 
 go and take the Air with her at Gehas, a "Village 
 hard by St. Juan £ Alfarache, where they had former- 
 ly been together at a certain Houfe. It was now 
 Summer-time, and he could by no means refufe his 
 fair Miftrefs what íhe deiired, neither indeed had he 
 any Inclination. Of all Parts of Spam, Andaloufia is 
 the raoft Pleafant, and in all that Province, no Retire- 
 ment is fo charming as this they had chofen, The 
 famous River Guadalquivir waters and renders it 
 fértil, winding about in fuch various Meanders, as 
 feernd as if it had not a mind to leave it. The whole 
 Neighbourhood abounded with Pleafure-Houfes, En- 
 chanting Gardens, Grotts, Fountains, Cafcades, and 
 all kinds of the moil delicious Fruits and Flowers. 
 In a Word, both the Sight, Tail and Smell, were 
 here to be ravifti'd to Admiration. The Time being 
 agreed on, the Day quickly came, and Provifions 
 were fent before, that they might be able to return 
 after Supper, according to Cuftom. The neceffary 
 Servants were alfo fent with the Provifions ; and next 
 Morning betimes,the Knight and my Mother fetting out 
 with the Duenna, who was always of their Company, it 
 was not long before they came in fight of my Father's 
 Houfe, by which thev mult of neceiîîty pals. Here 
 my Mother began to fall into a Fit of the Cholkk, tel- 
 ling thofe about her, That if they did not flop im- 
 mediately, íhe muft inevitably drop from her Horfe, 
 and die. This greatly furpriz'd the old Knight, inib- 
 much, that he knew neither what to fay nor do* 
 which the Duenna perceiving, and it being now her 
 Cue to fpeak, íhe reprefented to my Mother that 
 was to be, that it was neither feemly nor befitting 
 one in her Condition to continue in the Highway 
 where fo many People were going and coming incef- 
 fantly- and therefore, fince there was a Houfe in 
 fight which feetnd to belong to fome Perfon of Di- 
 itin&ion, fhe had better caufe her felf to be carried 
 thither, in hopes to find Relief by Reft, and fome 
 
 Cordials 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 19 
 
 Cordials ihe might get there. This Advice mightily 
 pleafed- the old Knight, and the cunning Gipfy my 
 Mother (for fuch I will call her, tho' ihe was not yet 
 fo) having confented that they mould do with her 
 what they pleas'd, provided they carried her, for 
 walk ihe could not fo far with thofe Pains ihe felt, 
 the two Footmen that were with them did that Office 
 for her, whilft the poor affli&ed Knight walk'd be- 
 fore to harangue the People that íhould come to the 
 Door. As I have already told you, this Houfe was 
 my Father's ; and he had fo prepar'd the old Houie- 
 keeper he had there, that ihe no fooner heard a 
 knocking at the Door, but ihe ran in great hafte, and 
 feem'd furpriz'd to find Strangers there. Good God ! 
 faid ihe, I had like to have broke my Neck for hafte,, 
 verily believing it was my Mafter that knock'd fo 
 furiouily. We muft beg your pardon, replied the old 
 Knight, fince Neceffity, and the Condition you fee 
 this Lady in, has oblig'd us to it. What ails the 
 Lady, quoth the Houle-keeper, and what Service 
 can I do either you or her ? We only defire, anfwer'd 
 the Knight, you would be fo kind as to let her reft 
 a-while on a Bed, and give her fome Cordial or o- 
 ther to relieve her from the Cholick, which ihe is ex- 
 ceedingly tormented with. If that be all, replied 
 the Houfe-keeper, you could not have pitch'd upon 
 a more charitable Houfe, for our Mafter has given 
 us charge to relieve all honeft PaiTengers, and much 
 more fuch Perfons as you feem to be. Come in, 
 come in a-God's Name Sir, proceeded ihe, both you 
 and your Lady, and I'll do what I can to ferve her. 
 I am only forry my Mafter is not at home, for he 
 would be fure to treat you after another-guefs man- 
 ner than I can pretend to, and, perhaps, more fuita- 
 ble to your Quality ; but what is in my Power, you 
 may depend on. She then conduced my Mother 
 into a fine Chamber with a noble Bed in it, which 
 was but half finifh'd, to take away Sufpicion. All 
 
 things 
 
30 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 things being in a readinefs, as perfum'd Sheets, fofc 
 Pillows, and a Satin pink'd Quilt, the Sick Lady 
 was put to Bed, who ftill complaining of great Pains, 
 hot Trenchers were brought her by the Duenna 
 to apply to her Belly ; but being afraid they would 
 give her the Vapours, (he Aid them down to the bot- 
 tom of the Bed without perceiving. Having drank 
 a good Draught of mull'd Wine, ihe defir'd the 
 Company would leave her to her Repofe, which, (he 
 faid, ihe doubted not would procure her Eafe. The 
 poor Knight always ready to oblige her, but more 
 particularly at this time, when he judg'd Reft would 
 do her good, was the firft that left the Room. He 
 took Care, however, to leave the Duenna with 
 her to help her to any thing ihe wanted, and ib 
 having defir'd no Noife might be made to difturb her, 
 he lock'd the Door, and went into the Garden to take 
 a Turn whilit ihe flept. My Father, as you may 
 imagine, was not far off, lying hid in an adjoining 
 Room, where he heard all that pafs'd , fo that the 
 Company was no fooner gone, and the Guards fet, 
 ( the Duenna and the old Houfe-keeper ) but he ven- 
 tur'd forth, and came into my Mother's Chamber, 
 with whom he had fuch a tender and lively Conver- 
 fation, that, as I afterwards heard, I owe my Being 
 to that very Minute. 
 
 The Sun, which now began to make himfelf felt in 
 fpite of all the Fraîcheur of the Shades and Fountains, 
 at length drove the Knight from the Garden, who 
 not knowing whither to go, and being uneafy till he 
 knew how my Mother did, came with a flow and 
 grave Pace towards her Chamber, which gave time 
 to the Guards to advertife my Father, who retir'd, 
 and lock'd himfelf up as before. The old Knight 
 enter'd, and coming foftly to the Bed-fide, ask'd his 
 Dear Lady, in a low and whining Tone, how ihe 
 did. She feeming to be awak'd, complain d he had 
 difturb'd her, and faid ihe wonder'd he could not 
 
 fufFef 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. jf 
 
 fufFer her to fleep one quarter of an Hour. Good 
 God ! cry'd the Knight, a quarter of an Hour. I'm 
 confident^ my Dear Angel, thou haft flept thefe two 
 Hours and more. That's likely, replied my Mother.' 
 but however k be, I'm iure I never had more need of 
 Reft than now. It may be ihe did not lie much,, 
 tho' ihe fpoke altogether with that Intent. She, how- 
 ever, own'd, ihe had found great Relief by what had 
 been given her, and was in manner quite recover'd; 
 which the old Knight being exceedingly glad to 
 hear, and perceiving the Day to be far advanced, he 
 advis'd her to pais the remainder of it there. She 
 confented, providing the People of the Houfe would 
 but give her leave ; and fo the old Cavalier was em- 
 ploy'd to fpeak to the Houfe-keeper about it. She 
 told him, her Mafter, who was very much a Gentle- 
 man, and a Man of Honour, would be very proud 
 of that Favour, and confequently advis'd him to fend 
 for his Servants from the other Houfe that was not 
 far off, which he immediately did. 
 
 Whilft thefe Orders were giving, my Father found 
 Means to get out of the Houfe by a private way, and 
 return d to Sevil, that he might appear upon the Ex- 
 change, and come back at Night after his ufual Cuftom. 
 He thought every Minute an Hour till he was again 
 in his Miftrefs's Arms; nor could he ealily forget the 
 time he had fo agreeably fpent in her Company. He 
 came back, between Five and Six a Clock, with a 
 very gay Countenance ; and the old Knight no fooner 
 fpied him, but he went forth to pay him his Compli- 
 ments, and beg Pardon for the Liberty he and hk 
 Company had taken. My Father, who knew the 
 beft of any Body how to make ufe of Words that 
 coft nothing, lb charm'd the old Cavalier with his 
 Civilities, that there was ever after a ftrid and invio- 
 lable Fricndfhip between them, infomuch that he 
 himfelf introduc'd him to falute his Lady, who was 
 then walking in the Garden becaufe it began to be 
 
 cool. 
 
32 The Ufe and Anions Part I. 
 
 cool. The two Lovers look'd with that indifference on 
 each other, as if they had never been acquainted, and as 
 it was not yet altogether a proper time to walk, 
 it was propos'd to Play at Trimera à-while in an 
 Arbour, where it was exceeding cool. The La- 
 dy won, and my Father loft, or rather fuf- 
 fer'd himfelf to lofe by an Agreement between 
 them. After this, the Company took a Turn or two 
 in fome of the Walks, and, upon their fitting down, 
 they were invited to a Collation which my Father 
 had prepar'd for them in the middle of the Garden. 
 The Supper ended, and the Time for returning to Se- 
 vil come, they went into a neat Barge of my Fa- 
 ther's, which he had caufed to be fet off with green 
 Boughs and Flowers to ihelter the Company from the 
 Inclemencies of the Air, and to afford them agree- 
 able Objects. This Barge was furrounded by a great 
 many leiferOnes, in fome of which were Conforts of 
 Mufick, and Perfons that Sung and Play'd on divers 
 Inftruments. Thus the Company could not be more 
 agreeably entertain'd • which had that Effeâ: on the 
 poor old Knight, that he never thought he could 
 make Acknowledgments enough to my Father for it, 
 and from whom he could not be parted, without ha- 
 ving firft a Promile of feeing him again fpeedily. 
 
 This Friendihip was fo well concerted, and fo pru- 
 dently manag'd, both by my future Father and Mother, 
 that it lafted during the Life of the old Knight, who, 
 in truth, liv'd not much longer. He had been a great 
 Debauchee, and given himfelf up entirely to all forts 
 of Pleafures, without any Fear of the other World, 
 or Regard to this. It may be he knew there was a* 
 God, but he liv'd as if there had been none^ altoge- 
 ther abandoning his Sour, and negle&ing the Duties 
 of a Chriftian. The End of a Man diicovers what 
 he is, and it was his deplorable Fate to die as he had 
 liv'd ; for in Three Days time he found himfelf ib 
 overwhelm'd with Difeafes, that he had no leifure to 
 
 think 
 
BookL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 53 
 
 think of any thing die., and ib expir'd with all his 
 Sins about him. A ftrange Fatality this attending 
 Mankind) who, tho' they fear Death above all Things, 
 are fo negligent in preparing for their latter Ends; 
 and tho' they every Day ice Examples of the ihort- 
 nefs of human Life, live as if they believ'df thcni- 
 felves Immortal. 
 
 I was ibme few Years old when this poor Knight 
 died, but was not his only Heir, for he had other 
 Children by other Miftreffes that had the fame Pre- 
 tences with my felf, and were in like manner enter- 
 tained in his Houfe. We were all Loaves of the lame 
 Wheat, yet, (as the faying is) every one had a diffe- 
 rent Oven ; but if my Brothers had not coft the olii 
 Cavalier more than I did, he would have maintain'd 
 them cheap enough. I was the only Child my 
 Mother had ; but as I was the youngeft, there was 
 reafon (he fhould take care to Prog for me, and pro- 
 cure me a good ill are in the Inheritance. In a 
 word, (he provided for me like a Woman of Anàa~ 
 leufia, for thofe are fam'd for having Wit, even in 
 their Fingers. Every one,in iliort, made up his Bun- 
 dle ; but befides that my Mother had done confi- 
 derably during the Life of the good old Man, Pus 
 did not forget to augment her Store with what w&3 
 beft, now he was at his lad Gafp • for as ihe was hi* 
 Favourite-Miftrefs, fhe had the Keys of all, andl 
 might confequently fcrape up what ihe would. WhaK 
 was deplorable, is, That he loft even the Sheets from 
 his Bed before the Breath was out of his Body, 
 All was fpirited away in a Moment, fo foon a¡> the 
 Phyficians had given him over, and they law there 
 was no hopes of Life left. When he was dead, thâ 
 Kindred came about him ; but tho' they faw there 
 was nothing for them, they found themfelves pnd¿f 
 an Obligation to bury him forllonour's fakej w 
 however, they did at as little Expence as they ci 
 and without ihedding many Tears, for only 
 
 ' D that 
 
34 The Life and Aftions Part L 
 
 that have fomewhat left them are oblig'd to that Duty. 
 The Mourners muft he paid, to be ñire, and Heirs 
 only have the Priviledge of dry Eyes, becaufe their . 
 Hearts are iuppos'd to be full of Joy. I could here 
 tell you a pleaiànt Story that offers much to the pur- 
 pofe ; but I dare not, becaufe it relates to a certain 
 Gentleman, with whom I am acquainted, and for 
 whom I have fome Deference. The Kindred of the 
 deceas'd, who expe&ed great Affets from a Perfon 
 who had above 2000 Ducats a Year in Church-Reve- 
 nues, belides what he had of his own Patrimony, 
 which was alfo confiderable, and who knew His 
 Houfe to be nobly furnifh'd, and that all manner of 
 Plate was to-be found there that fuited with one of 
 his Quality, began to be furpriz'd when they faw 
 only that left which ceuld not be carried away, wss. 
 the Lands and Tenements, which, however, were 
 deeply engag'd for great Sums. All this made them 
 enter Caveats, and put out Advertifements for Dis- 
 covery of conceal'd Matters, promifing great Re- 
 wards ; but which was to little purpofe, for Thieves 
 will be faithful to one another even where honeft 
 Men will not. My Mother, 'tis true, had the beft 
 Excufe for what ihe had got of any of them ; for 
 when my fuppos'd Father would come home in 
 good Humour with fome Moveables he had bought, 
 he would commonly fay to her, This, my Dear, is ai 
 thine ; This is all for thee : And Heaven reft his Soul, 
 to fay Truth, he was a very kind Man. Now was 
 not this a Gift In Form, and ought my Mother to 
 have any Scruple upon her Confcience, after fo fair a 
 Conveyance ? Befides, ihe might well be faid to 
 have earn'd what ilie had ; for who would lye by 
 fuch a fulfom old Fellow every Night for a common 
 Penfion ? You muft needs acknowledge, a Gallant of 
 his Years was not a very proper Bedfellow for ib 
 young and handfom aWoinan as my Mother was. More- 
 over, the Divines^ to whom íhe put Cafes of Con- 
 fcience 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 35 
 
 fcience upon this Occafion, acquitted her of any 
 Crime^ providing ihe parted with a little Money to 
 • lay Maltes for the Deceafed. But what is moft la- 
 mentable relating to this Knight, who died the moft 
 miierable of all Men, and which deferves our Re- 
 flexion the moft, is, That Divine Providence fuffer'd 
 him to have much the fame Fate with the Poor he 
 had forgotten, and whole Revenues he enjoy 'd • for 
 either our Religion is falle, or it is true, to fay, 
 That the Goods of the Church are the Patrimony of 
 the Poor; that the Church ha? them confided to her 
 as the Mother of the Poor, and for their Ufe ; and 
 that ihe afterwards diftributes them in Truft to Lay- 
 Perfons, who are to render a ftriéfc Account of them. 
 If this be fo, as moft certain it is, How dare Pre- 
 lates, Abbots, Priors, Canons, and other Ecclefia- 
 ■fticks, apply them altogether to their own private 
 Ufe, as they are but too frequently accuftom'd to 
 do ? Nay, we hear every day, thefe People preach 
 Charity to us, while they have lirtle or none of it 
 themfelves. Do you now-a-days fee any of thefe 
 Holy Folks, with their high Collars, and their pro- 
 mising Countenances, vint Hofpitals, Jaiis, AimS- 
 Houfes, and fuch-like Places, as they ought to do ? 
 No truly ; And perhaps you'll tell me, they avoid 
 thefe, as they do Stage-Plays, Gaming-Houfes, Men y- 
 Meetings, and other Divertifements, meerly becaufe 
 they are not convenient for them. They, forfooth, 
 muft be fuppos'd to be in their Studies reading or 
 compofing lome florid Sermons; and when ever they 
 receive Vilits, it is from the Beaux Ejprlts, and when- 
 ever they pay them,it is to the fine Lady, not on the 
 fcore of Love, you muft imagine, but out of pure 
 Friendihip, which is not Criminal before God. There 
 their Converfation was upon Gallantries, Wittjcifhis, 
 Puns, Quibbles, Conundrums, and the like fooliili 
 Levities ; but without amufing our felves any longer 
 about thefe Trifles, let us enquire what they do with 
 
 D z thefe 
 
3¿ The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 thefe Goods of the Poor confided to them by the 
 Church. What they do ! Why, they build fine 
 Houfes in the Country, whither they retire for 
 Study and Prayer-fake; for you know, both thefe are 
 becoming a Divine. Thefe they furnifh finely, and 
 above all get a magnificent Library, which you 
 know is EiTential to, and, as it were, the Duty of 
 their Character. They muft render themfelves Learned 
 before they Preach, and indeed whether they Preach 
 or not. They muft divide their Lives between Prayer 
 and Study; and they would have you to believe they 
 do not Study but to be able to Pray the better. 
 But all this while, what becomes of the Poor ? Muft 
 they Starve for want of what is due to them ? The 
 Poor ! Why, I confefs, they ought not to Starve ; but 
 then let them live upon Charity. As for the Prieft, 
 he muft live according to his Quality and Rank, let 
 what will become of the Poor. He muft keep a 
 good Table, and have a fuitable Equipage, not be- 
 ing oblig'd to Faft and do Penance, as the poor Beg- 
 ging-Friars are. To live thus, is for the Honour of 
 the Church, which he cannot do at lefs Expence ; 
 and every one will allow, he that ferves the Altar 
 ought to live by the Altar; and that he that has one 
 or more Benefices, (for fome you know have more 
 than one) ought to have reafonable Recompences for 
 his daily Duty. All this I grant : But why ihould 
 what belongs to the Poor be employ'd in building 
 Houies, buying Furniture, ere&ing Libraries, provi- 
 ding good Tables, paying unneceuary Servants, and 
 the like Expences, which you fay are, as it were,, 
 EiTential to a Benefic'd Períbn i You make me 
 laugh to hear you talk thus. Are Clergymen only 
 oblig'd to take Care of the Poor, and do Alms ? 
 No, I don't fay fo ; but I affirm they are more o- 
 blig'd to thoiè Duties than other Men : and that what 
 in others is term'd Charity and Almigiving, in them 
 ought to be call'd Duty and Reftitution. You fcan 
 
 the 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 37 
 
 the Matter too narrowly, Sir ; and, according to 
 your Rules, I don't know what Clergyman could be 
 fav'd. I'm afraid moil of us would nor, becaufe our 
 Profeilion requires abundantly more Circumfpe&ion 
 than thofe of other Men, and yet, for the moil part, 
 we are loofer in our Conduit than any : However, it 
 muft be allow'd, a great many of us acquit our felves 
 pioufly of our Duty, tho' perhaps the greater number 
 does not. 
 
 But hold, Guzman! What have you to do to meddle 
 with the Church? Know you not, that they are People 
 the leaft apt to forgive of any ? Are you another St.Charks 
 Borromeo, commifíion'd to Preach and give Leflbns ? No, 
 by no means ; but when the Oven is once heated, a 
 Spark or two will fly out. I beg your Pardon, good 
 Reader, not unly for this Fault, but whatever others 
 of the like kind Í may be guilty of hereafter. I muft 
 confeis, I am apt to fix upon any thing that ftands in 
 my way, and mail undoubtedly do the fame for the 
 future, whatever Advice you give me to the con- 
 trary. But take no Notice of me, 'tis fufficient if 
 I fpeak to the purpofe- and if not, you need not re- 
 form your (elf by me. You do not enquire, whether 
 a crooked Fellow made the Clothes you have on; if 
 they fit you, 'tis well enough. I acquaint you never- 
 thelefs with my Humour, that you may Arm your 
 ielf with Patience. If my Characters don't pleafe 
 you, I hope, at leaft, they won't tire you. I iliould 
 as much wonder that they pleas'd every Body, a> that 
 they pleas'd no Body. Every one has his Tail ; but 
 then the mifchief is, every one thinks his own the 
 beft; and we have but too many fantaftick People in 
 the World. Some Sot, it may be, will tell me, we 
 muft not difpute of Tails, but then there is nothing 
 more true than that there is a good and a bad Tail; 
 and how ihould we come to know them aiTunder but 
 bydifputing, tho", indeed, the obilinacy of Mankind 
 is now grown ib great, that few can agree about it. 
 
 D 5 But 
 
38 The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 But let's return to fpeak of my Mother, who re- 
 quires it of me, and who, being Widow to an old 
 Gallant, was glad to find a young one in my Father. 
 For my part, I was now about four years old, and had 
 this in common with her, that having loft one Father, 
 I quickly found another, which by the by is no fmall 
 Advantage, and a iiire Way not to become an Or- 
 phan. My Mother, like a cunning Woman, knew 
 well how to fob me upon them both, tho', perhaps, I 
 belong'd entirely to neither, and that fome third Per- 
 lón had a Finger in the Pve. When I was with the 
 old Knight, fhe would tell him, I was as like him as 
 if I had come out of his Mouth ; and when I was 
 W'ith the ether, who upon her Veracity I have al- 
 ways taken for my true Father, fhe would make him 
 believe, I refembled him as much as one drop of Wa- 
 ter did another. Allthefe Matters, however, are un- 
 certain, for how maiiv People are there in the World 
 who have only reputed Fathers ! How many Princes 
 and great Lords, who owe their Beings, next under 
 God, to Footmen and Valet de Chambres ! What a Hur- 
 ricane would it raife in Families, if the Children 
 fhould happen to be like their Fathers only. 'Tis a 
 pretty ikying indeed, That if Blood ennobles, it muft 
 be that of the Mother, whereas thefe Things are 
 wholly cafual. For my part, they fhall never trouble 
 my Plead, and all that I know of the Matter is, that 
 I'm certain I'm a Gentleman, becaufe I'm the Son 
 both of a Knight of Alcantara and a Noble Genocfe. 
 And then for my Mother's fide, fhe was Nobility 
 it felf, being defcended from a long Train of illuftri- 
 ous Anceftors of the very beil Families in Spain, in- 
 fomuch, that you might make a Tree of their Ge- 
 nealogies, as large, as 'that of the Houfe of Toledo. 
 It is neverthelefs poffible, my Mother might have had; 
 a third Gallant of not fo good a Family as the other 
 two, for fhe that deceives one Man, may as well de- 
 ceive two, Examples are but too frequent of this 
 
 kind.. 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 39 
 
 kind, efpecially where the Parties are bound only by 
 the Ties of Love or Intereft, and not by that of 
 Marriage. 'Tiswell known, Love has it's Whimlies; 
 and what is belovdtoDay, ihall be hated to Morrow; 
 and then as for Intereil, when a Woman is only tied 
 to a Man by that, he that bids more fhall be fure to 
 have her. But for married Women, that's quite ano- 
 ther Thing. A Contradi is a Contradi, and 'tis nor 
 fo eafy to ieparate what Heaven has join'd. 
 
 It is not but married Women have their Gallants, 
 who are to them inilead of Second and Third Hus- 
 bands; but then the Husbands always remain, and 
 the Gallants would have enough to do to drive them 
 out of their Beds. The married Women have alfo a 
 Priviledge above the unmarried in that, by an extra- 
 ordinary Rule in Arlthmctick, they fatisfy two Men 
 for one, of which the Gallant makes the Number, 
 for the Husband always pafTes for a Cypher ; fo that it 
 they happen tobe fo chañas to have but one Stallion, 
 they fcrve but one Man, tho' they lie with two. For 
 my part, I always went for the Son of the Levant 
 Gentleman, I own'd him for my Father, and there- 
 fore, according to Juilice, he ought to difown me 
 neither in this nor the World to come. My Mother, 
 who ought to know bed whofe Son I was, for Intereft - 
 fake put me upon my Dead Father. All I know ot 
 the Bufinefs is, that the Noble Genoefe, who was ei- 
 ther my Father, or not my Father, it matters not 
 whether, lov'd us both, my Mother and I, fo cordial- 
 ly, that at length he married her. He knew very 
 well what Reputation ihe had, and that he was like- 
 ly to come fpeedily into the Order of Aftœon ; never- 
 theleis nothing could diííwade him, have her he muil, 
 and fo he foon had. Fie was one that was very con- 
 fiant to what he lov'd, but, believe me, in other re- 
 fpefts he knew what he did. My Father's Affairs, 
 as I have already told you, began to be a iiule un- 
 twjited when he firft came to know my MotRfer; but 
 
 D 4 ihe 
 
40 The Life and Anions Part I 
 
 ihe made him plentiful Amends for the Expence he 
 had been at in courting her, by putting into his 
 Hands not only what the old Knight had left her, 
 but alfo what ihe had purloin'd from feveral others, 
 with whom flie had liv'd as a Miftrefs. Her ordinary 
 Alaxim was, to refufe nothing that was offer'd her ; 
 and ilie had this particular good Houfwifry, to live as 
 much as ihe could at other Peoples Charges, info- 
 much that, with nine or ten thoufand Ducats ihe had 
 fcrap'd up, ihe foon fet up my Father again, and fav'd 
 him from a fécond Breaking he was jufl about to 
 make. In ihort, he thought himfelf exceeding happy 
 to get her, and I hope you have nothing to fay a- 
 gainit it, for thefc are Matters that happen every 
 Day. If only untouch' d Virgins were to marry, I 
 Jare promife the World would foon be at an end, or 
 at leall it would not be Í upported by Marriage. Your 
 tried Women contribute moil to Generation, where- 
 as Maids are fo fqueamiih, 'tis a long while before 
 you can bring them to't, and fo much time there is 
 loiljthat might,methinks,have been better fpent. Well, 
 but when you get a Maid, ihe has always fomeLove 
 Intrigue or other running in her Head, which if ilie 
 can accompüíh, then Good-night to all Marriage 
 Joys. That's the very Reafon, fay you, I would not 
 have her. But pray, Mr. Squeamifb, (reply I) I have 
 known as nice as your Woríhíp that have married 
 iuch Ladies without fcruple, altho' they knew 
 they had thefe Failings. Would you have me fhew 
 you one of thefe ? I can do it if I pleafe, and one 
 that at ñrít Sight, you would take for a Man that 
 mull have a Woman cut out on purpofe for him, and 
 who would not look upon one that was not of the 
 fírideft Virtue. "Tis he you fee there, and whom 
 you know as well as I. You are not ignorant what 
 a miferable Hand that merci leís Cenfurer of good 
 natur'd Husbands, and tender Wives, has made of it ; 
 and thfc, after all his Caution,, he has pitch'd upon 
 
 cne 
 
Book I. of Guzman cTAlfarache. 41 
 
 one for a Wife 3 that makes no fcruplc of going at 
 Noon-day to beat up her Lover's Quarters. This is 
 no Secret, for every Body knows they have been a- 
 bove three Hours together without any bodies inter- 
 rupting them. In three Hours, you know, there may 
 be a great deal done, efpecially between Perfons ib 
 well inclin'd, yet the doting Coxcomb will have it, 
 me came thither only to ifring a Necklace; and that 
 tho' flie and her Paramour were both fcen f i ting or 
 lying on the Bed together, (I can't tell which) there 
 was nothing pafs'd between them. For my part, 
 I believe the fame, nothing but what fhould, for I 
 would not wrong my Neighbour, by judging ill of 
 him, for the whole World. In a Word, this individual 
 Marriage-hater married this Lady, whom he thought 
 never the worfe for fuch a Slip. I will not pretend 
 to tell you, whether 'twas Love or Intereft made him 
 do this tine Feat; but this I can allure you, he's none 
 of the belt Natur'd, nor none of the moil Amorous 
 Men in the World ; Love being what does not at all 
 agree with his Age, for he's much turn'd of Forty. 
 Likewife one may compute, that fuch a humouríóm, 
 brutiíh, fplenetick and filent Fellow, is always old, 
 tho' he be but five and twenty. He was naturally all 
 this, and he's yet become more fo fince his fine Klar- 
 riage. Capricorn is never without theiè fort of In- 
 fluences, and 'tis laid he had that Sign for his Afcen- 
 dant. What is faid, is faid, and a Man can't go 
 contrary to his Star. It muft be ownd, how- 
 ever, that a Self-fufBcient Fool can't be bet- 
 ter punifiYd than this Coxcomb was. This is only 
 part of a Story which I tell you by the by, and one 
 Day or other, perhaps, I may tell you the reft, for 
 my Memoirs are already provided, and I have e- 
 nough to make you laugh till your Sides crack. But 
 let us return once more to ipeak of my Mother, 
 whom my Father took with all her Faults, and 
 laugh'd at thofe that went about to undeceive him. 
 
 Every 
 
 
42 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 Every one knows belt where the Shooe wrings, and 
 'tis the greateft Impertinence for any Body to pretend 
 to ihew one. If my Father's Shooe had wrung him, 
 he would foon have found it out. The World would 
 certainly go better, if every one minded what only 
 belong'd to him. I am now to tell you, my Father 
 ib effectually recover'd himfelf with my Mother's 
 Money, that he never was in a better Condition. 
 His greateft Misfortune was,he lov'd fplendor and ihow, 
 and would have a fine Equipage, coft what it would. 
 He led this courfe of Life fo long, that, it being im- 
 poflîbîe it ihould laft, he at length found himfelf o- 
 blig'd.to go afide again, which almoft broke my Mo- 
 ther's Heart. He likewife was fo much concern'd at 
 it himfelf, that feeing no Hopes to recover his loft 
 State, and live as he had formerly done, he languiih'd 
 for a while, and at length died, regretted by no 
 Body, but thofe that had loft Money by him. 
 
 My Mother was both greatly afflicted and embar- 
 rafs'd at his Death. We had already feen the Houie 
 at St. Juan £ Alfar ache go, as likewife that in the City, 
 to ftop the Mouths of Creditors. All our ready 
 Money went alio by little and little during his Life- 
 time. My Mother, notwithstanding, being as vain- 
 glorious as he, would needs bury him as fumptuoufly 
 as if he had died in the moft profperous Condition. 
 This you may imagine drain'd us pretty handfomly, 
 and there wanted but little to reduce us to the greateft 
 Mifery. We had now only fome few Goods left, 
 which my Mother intended to fell, and live as well 
 as fhe could upon what they produced. For my part, 
 young as I was, I had a little Ambition in me, and 
 therein I truly refembled my Father : Such a quiet and 
 retir'd Life as my Mother intended to lead, was not 
 at all to my Liking ; I had been us'd to Noife and 
 Buftle in my Father's Houfe, and I could hear no 
 more of that. I had been likewife bred with a Spirit 
 of Liberty, as being the only Son, and could not 
 
 now 
 
 i 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 43 
 
 now endure to be governd by a Woman, who, I 
 coirid plainly perceive, had little Government of her 
 felf. As I was hot and headftrong, I often plagu'd 
 her to the very Soul, and would needs be Mafter of 
 the Houfe, tho' I were not above i; or 14 Years old. 
 In fhort, we had Quarrels almoft without ceaiing. 
 She wiih'd a thoufand times ihe had had a Girl in-. 
 iteadof me, who, ihe faid, might have been a Support 
 to her old Age, a* flic had been to that of her Mo- 
 ther; who, by the by, was an admirable Woman at 
 all forts of Love-Intrigues. She had bred up her 
 Daughter in the fame Profeflîon, who, as you have 
 already heard, was a Model for Virtue and Honour. 
 Never had Child lo many Fathers as ihe. There 
 were enough for her to choofe out of ; but left ihe 
 ihould make an ill Choice, her Mother chofe one for 
 her. My Grandmother was one of the fineft Women 
 of her time, and had the moil Wit, and beft Breeding. 
 1 1er Houfe was not fo much a School of I ove, as of Po- 
 liteneis and Gallantry. It was only free for the 
 greateit Quality, efpecially the younger fort, whom 
 ihe kept under great Difcipline, and who might well 
 be faid to be fine Gentlemen, after they had been 
 inftru&ed a while by her. She had my Mother by a 
 random Stroke, for ihe hardly knew how her felf; 
 but ihe neverthelefsdid every one of thefe Gentlemen 
 the Honour to lay her at their Doors, and fatisfied 
 every one ihe had iome Reièmblance with them in fome 
 Particular. She alfo never faifd to call her by the 
 Name of the Perfon that was by ; and when there 
 happen'd to be two or more, as there fometimes was, 
 then file was calfd in iliort Donna Mavcella, which 
 was her Chriftian Name, but as for the Donna, that 
 to be fure was never forgot. My Grandmother all along 
 had a kindneis for the Family of the G//^?«.7?;j-,and as one 
 of her Gallants happen'd to be of that Name, and 
 whom (lie lov'd beft of any, ihe thought ihe could 
 not do better than make her Daughter defcend from 
 
 a Houfe 
 
44 The Life and Aftiom Part I. 
 
 a Houíé ib illuftrious, tho' ihe confefled to him at the 
 fame time in private, that for ought íhe knew, ^he 
 might be begot by a certain Lord, who was a near 
 Relation to the Duke of Medina Sidonia, a Grandee 
 of Spain. 
 
 In ihort, my good old Grannum was a very under- 
 ftanding Woman, and altho' ihe always liv'd great, 
 ihe never wanted for any thing, for as her Beauty be- 
 gan to decline, my Mother s began to rife. Now 
 you muft know, a lucky occafion happen'd much a- 
 bout this time to teach my Mother her Trade, for 
 hitherto by great chance ihe had continued a Maid. 
 It feems a Merchant was newly come from Per*;* who 
 meafur'd Money by Bufhel-fulls, and who coming to 
 my Grandmother's Houfe, bargain'd to give her 4000 
 good Ducats for her Daughter s Maidenhead. The 
 Offer, you may be fure, was accepted ¿ and after my 
 Mother had learn'd her Trade, ihe went on in it very 
 couragiouily. Never Chriftian acquitted her felf 
 better of her Duty, and if íhe had had the good For- 
 tune to have a Daughter in my room, or at leaft to 
 have brought me a Sifter into the World, we mould 
 no doubt have been in better Circumftances than we 
 now were, for my Mother underftood her Profeiïîon 
 perfectly well, and had an excellent knack at Com- 
 municating it to others. Befides, Sevil was a wonder- 
 ful proper Place for this fort of Pra&ife, being the 
 common Refuge for Perfons of the moil eminent 
 Virtue, and who could not fail of getting good Liveli- 
 hoods there- but if Sevil had not been iufficient, Ma- 
 drid would have plentifully fupplied that Defect. 
 My Misfortune, however, was to have little or nothing 
 to do there, wherefore being a fort of Encumbrance 
 to my Mother, becaufe I was of the wrong Sex, I 
 refolved to go feek my Fortune elfe where ; and it 
 came into my Head to go vifit my Kindred ar Genoa. 
 For this purpofe I thought proper to take the Name 
 of my Mother, which was Guzsnan 3 as being more 
 
 honour- 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarach¿ 45 
 
 honourable than that of my Father, and to add to it 
 d'Alfarache, which befpoke me a Perfon of Quality. 
 I knew of what Importance it was for fuch Knight- 
 Errants as my felf to have Names of Confequence, 
 and was fatisfied that the Titles of Count and Marejuefs 
 are commonly taken up by fuch People with leis 
 Reafon than I had taken thefe. Without a Title, a 
 Man in a ftrange Country is little minded; and with 
 one, I have heard of an ordinary Tradefman's Son, who 
 had a little Money, and was tolerably handibme, that 
 has got admittance into the moil fplendid Courts, 
 and made himfelf equal to thofe Lords whom he was 
 not worthy to ferve as a Page. 'Tis true, a Man muft 
 manage thefe Matters with a great deal of Caution, 
 otherwife he may chance to be kick'd and degraded 
 to his Primitive Condition, but thofe that have Sence 
 know well how to avoid thefe Diíaílers ; and if the 
 worn come to the worit, 'tis but going into another 
 Prince's Territories and you get clear of all; and may, 
 if you think fir, play the fame Game over again. 
 This, in truth, is not very warrantable, but every one 
 has a different Tafte, and, for my part, I'm for this 
 fort of Life. Can any thing be more charming, than 
 for a Man who, perhaps, is defcended from the very 
 Dregs of the Populace, to ride in his Coach and Six, 
 with his Pockets full of Pifióles ? How he comes by 
 them is not material, but if he has a good Addreis, 
 and can fpeak well, he (hall enter where another Per- 
 fon of much greater Confequence fhall be excluded, 
 and at Hours that no Body, perhaps, but himfelf caa 
 be admitted. When one has a Talent for Things of 
 this Nature, I think one ought to make ufe of it. 
 What does a Man come into the World for, but to 
 make a Noife ; right or wrong, I fay, he ought to 
 make a Noife. Perhaps, Reader, thefe Maxims may 
 not be to thy Liking, but they are proper for fuch 
 Rogues as I am, and therefore thou muft not be 
 furpriz'd if henceforward I make ufe of them. 
 
 CHAP, 
 
ùfi the Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Guzman leaves his Mother's Houfe, and, by the 
 way, difcourfes on the Torments of Hunger : 
 Afterwards he tells you what hefel him with an 
 Hoftefi, recounting many notable Inftanccs of ill 
 Government, 
 
 NOW was I in my Thoughts, the illuftrious Don 
 Guzman X Alfar ache. I vvas a Young Lad that had a 
 great deal of Wind in my Head, but little Money in 
 my Pocket to carry on my Projefts. I was not yet 
 ^vell enough acquainted with the Worlds and I had 
 a mind to learn what it was made of; This was a 
 great Undertaking I aiTure you, and I think I did 
 well to begin it betimes. The worft was, being an 
 only Son, I had not only been plentifully, but nicely 
 brought up, had had my full iwinge of Pleafure, and 
 was now entring upon the Stage of the World, 
 which is a Sea full of Rocks and Quick-Sands, efpe- 
 cially to one of my Age, who was capable of but 
 little Reflexion. I had often threatned my Mother 
 I would leave her when íhe leaft expe&ed it, and, 
 perhaps, íhe dehVd no better, tho' fhe pretended the 
 contrary, and endeavour'd to alter my Refolution. 
 But at length íhe having one Day rattled me more 
 than ordinary on account of fome Money I had 
 ftolen from her, and whereof we had but little in 
 the Houfe, I caught up my Cloak briskly, and, going 
 out, told her, if fhe iaw me any more íhe muft give 
 me better Language. As the Day was far fpent, my 
 Journey was not over great ; I went no farther than 
 St. Lazaras, a Chapel but a little way ofF from the City. 
 There fitting me down on the Steps, I began to çon- 
 
 fider 
 
Book L of Guzman d'AlfaracheJ 47 
 
 fider what I had done. 'Tis true, 1 left my Mothers 
 Houfe in a great fury, and walk'd at that rate as if 
 Bailies had been at my Heels, but you fee how foon 
 I was tired ; I am hardly got half a League off before 
 I begin to repent, and Night and Melancholy have 
 thrown their Sable Cloaks over me. I found my 
 felf alone at a Church Door without knowing whither 
 to go. Befides, it was Supper-time, and my Belly be- 
 gan to tell me fo ; yet as Misfortunes never come 
 iingle, it happend to be Friday when I could get no 
 Flefh ; but what fignifies either Fiih or Flefh, if I 
 were lb far off from an Inn that J could not come at 
 them. 'Tis true, I had Drink enough, for Plenty of 
 fine clear Water ran within a Foot of me ; but what 
 iignifics Water to a raw Stomach ? Wretched Repaît, 
 unfortunate Adventurer ! I might be lad, 'tis certain, 
 butSadnefs would not fill my Belly. I then began to 
 find the difference between my Mother's Houfe and 
 a Church Door ; between a Table cover'd with good 
 Vi&uals, and not a Model to eat ; between a certain- 
 ty of having a good Lodging, and not knowing 
 where to lay my Head. But, however, what plagu'd 
 me moil, was Hunger. There's no Pain, but what 
 Eating can aifwage, nor none, but what is augmented 
 by Fafting. When one has no Jaw-work, no Pleafurc 
 is reliih'd, nor Comfort entertain'd. Then every 
 Body is out of humour, and hardly any Body knows 
 wherefore. We Talk and Preach, and lay down 
 Maxims for each other's Conduct, but to little pur- 
 pofè. While I was in this Quondary, feeing the 
 Church open, I had a mind to go in and refign my 
 ielf into the Hands of God, befeeching his Divine 
 Majefty to direcSt me what I was to do. I did as I 
 was difpos'd, but was fain to make my Prayer ihort, 
 becaufe the time was come that the Church Door was 
 to be ihut, and I was intreated to walk out. This 
 feem'd an ill Omen, for what could I think when I 
 was driven even out of the Church, which is the com- 
 mon 
 
48 The Life and Aüiom Part Í. 
 
 mon Afylum for the Unhappy. I did not know what 
 to think ont ; but obey I muft, and fo out I went. 
 'Tis true, I did not go far, for I card not to venture 
 further than the Place wheie I was before, the Night 
 being exceeding dark. There lifting me down, in 
 fpite of my fmall Courage the Tears began to flow 
 from my Eyes. I did not know whither to go, for- 
 ward or backward, dreading Precipices before, and 
 Wolves behind, fo great was my Panick Fear. In 
 the midft of thefe Difquiets, Sleep feiz'd me, when 
 putting my Nofe within my Cloak, and leaning my 
 Head againft the Iron Rails, I flept fo heartily, that 
 the Sun had been up two Hours before I awak'd. 
 This put me in mind of a Story of one Montagne, 
 who accompanying his Wife's Corps to the Grave, 
 and happening to pafs by a Tavern, where he knew 
 they fold good Wine, he ftop'd, and pretending fome 
 extraordinary occafion to call there, deiir'd his Friends 
 and Relations to proceed fprward, and he would fol- 
 low them. He went in,and being under great Affli&ion, 
 call'd for a Pint of Wine, which having drank, he' 
 call'd for a Second, a Third, and a Fourth, till at 
 length, being got very Drunk, he fell afleep upon the 
 Table. The Funeral Ceremony ended, the Com- 
 pany wonder'd he did not come, and therefore 
 thought proper to go and look for him, fearing he 
 might have fwoon d on the Road, thro' Grief. As 
 they went along, they enquir'd of every Body, and 
 heard nothing of him ; but at lait coming to the Place 
 where they had left him, they found him afleep on the 
 Table, ¿ailing him, he ftarted up, and immediate- 
 ly recolle&ing his Error, cried out in a great Agony¿ 
 Alas my Dear Wife ! what an unfortunate Day is this 
 to me ! You muft pardon me, Gentlemen, fin ce you 
 fee how God has afrli&ed me, for nothing is fo apt to 
 make a Man fleep, as Affliction. So, I believe, it fard 
 with me; Grief and Melancholy had made me fleepy, 
 but then it was not after a good Drinking-bout as this 
 
 Man's 
 
: 
 
 Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache; 4^ 
 
 Man's was, for 'tis well known I had nothing to drink 
 but Water, and that's but imall Comfort, Heaven 
 knows. I had now failed from Friday Noon to this 
 time, and that you may imagine was no fmall Mat- 
 ter for one to do, that conftantly had his four 
 Meals a Day. This, nevertheleis, did not hinder me 
 from fleeping heartily, altho' in fo improper a Place, 
 infomuch that, as I told you before, I did not wake 
 till Saturday Morning, and which, perhaps, I had not 
 done then, if fome Country Wenches, who were 
 probably going to a Wedding, had not diiturb'd me 
 with their Mufick. At this Noife I ftarted up, and, 
 hardly awake knew not for the prefent where I was, 
 and at laft could fcarce perfwade my felf I had been 
 afleep out of Sevil at a Church Door. When I was 
 pretty well come to my felf, and found how the Cafe 
 flood, that is, that I had left my Mother and was in 
 queft of better Fortune, I cried, I'll on a God's Name, 
 fince the Fates have fo allotted for me ; which faying 
 I got upon my Legs, and feeing feveral Ways, and 
 not knowing which was belt to take, I chofe the 
 broadeft, and you know whither that leads. That 
 Commonwealth muft needs be ill govern'd where the 
 Feet do the Office of the Head, and Reafon and 
 Prudence have nothing to do. My Feet then were 
 my Guides, and I follow'd them whitherfoever they 
 led me. I were like that Mountebank of La Mancha, who 
 having never ftudied, and not knowing how either to 
 Write or Read, carried about with him a Bag full of 
 Recife i, on one fide of which he put thofe for Juleps 
 and Cordial Potions, and on the other thofe for Pur- 
 ges and other Phyfick. When he came to viiit any 
 Sick Body, he put in his Hand at random, and drew 
 forth what came next, crying, God grant it may do thee 
 good, and fo lent it to the Apothecary. In like manner, 
 conlidering the Road I had taken at random, I might 
 fay to my felf, God grant, Guzman, it may do thee good. 
 But as DWine Providence, never fends any Misfortunes 
 
 E but 
 
5 o The Life an J Allions Part I. 
 
 but fuch as one can bear, and that for Ends beft 
 known to himfelf • fo even the Worft may be made 
 good Ufe of if we confider rightly of them, and we 
 ought at lean to give Thanks that we are not totally 
 iorgot. For my part, I have more than ordinary Rea- 
 ion to make Acknowledgments on this Account, for 
 my Misfortunes have taken me upon leaving my Mo- 
 ther's Houfe, and kept me Company all the while 
 without giving me the lead Refpit. 'Tis true, they 
 come from the Hand of God, but they are neverthe- 
 leis what we draw upon our felves by our ill Con- 
 dud. There is, however, a great Difference between 
 Misfortunes ; thofe that come from the Hand of God 
 he may deliver us from if he pleafes, they are like 
 Mines of fine Gold or rough Diamonds, which the 
 Hand of a skilful Workman can bring to Perfection ; 
 but for iùch as a' Man brings upon himfelf by his 
 irregular Condu¿t, they are gilded Pills, which both 
 deceive the TaiJ and Sight by their falfe Appearance, 
 and diforder and overturn the whole Conftitution 
 of the Body. 
 
 Setting out then, as I've already acquainted you I 
 did, I travell'd two Leagues that Morning, which, 
 tho' not very large, was neverthelefs a great deal for 
 a young Man to do, who had never gone fo far out- 
 right in his Life, and who, befides, had had his Belly 
 lull of Wind for twenty four Hours together. I was, 
 you mayguefs, fwinginglytir'd, andbeliev'dlwasgoc 
 to the Antipodes, or had dilcoverM another World, like 
 Colimbrts, when I faw an Inn before me. This Inn 
 I enrer'd all fweaty, cover'd with Duft, quite har- 
 rafs'd out,- and damnable hungry, as you may con- 
 clude from what I have already told you. Being 
 Noon, I enquired for Dinner, and was inform'd there 
 were only new-laid Eggs in the Houfe. As for new- 
 laid Eggs, auoth I, they may do well enough if they 
 are really fo. You need not doubt that, laid the Ho- 
 ftefs , but feeing me a raw Lad, and believing I had 
 
 a good 
 
Book I. of Guzman d*Alfarache; 51 
 
 a good Stomach, íhe thought ihe might put any 
 thing upon me. Laughing in my Face with a gay 
 Air, ihe ask'd me whence I came. I told her, from 
 Sevil. And whither art thou going. Child? cried ihe, 
 putting at the fame time her nafty Fift under my 
 Chops, and making as if ihe would kiis me. This 
 made mc to turn my Head, but which I could not 
 do foon enough to avoid a beaftly Belch that came 
 hot from her Stomach, which no doubt would have 
 poiibn'd me, and communicated her Diftempers to 
 me, had not I turn'd fo haftily about, and by that 
 means efcap'd the greater!: part of the Infection. 
 What I had of it, fat very ill upon me, and if I had 
 had any thing in my Belly befidcs, I ihould un- 
 doubtedly have vomited. To be civil, neverthelefs, 
 and anfwer her Queftion as well as I could, I told 
 her, ftretching forth my Neck as far as poffible from 
 her, that I was going to Court, and defir'd her only 
 to give me fome Dinner. She then made me fie 
 down to a three Legg'd Cricket that was fomewhat 
 crazy, and laid before me, for a Napkin, a courfe 
 Cloth that had but newly clean'd the Oven. On 
 this Cloth ihe plac'd for a Saltfeller the bottom of a 
 broken Earthen Pot, with Salt mix'd with Durt and 
 Greace ; and gave me to Drink the Water ihe juif, 
 then took from the Chicken, which was muddy, and 
 in the fame Earthen Velfel. Having thus done, ihe 
 iet before me for Bread, a piece of a Cake as black as 
 my Hat, and at the fame time ferv'd up in a very 
 filthy crack'd Platter, a fort of Omelet, which, never- 
 thelefs, might better be term'd an Egg-Poultice, 
 This Omelet, Bread, Drinking-Pot, Drink, Saltfeller, 
 Salt, Napkin and Hoftefs, were all of a Piece, that 
 is to fay, as nafty and forbidding as poffible ; yet I, 
 who had failed thus long, and whofe Guts reproach 'd 
 me with their unkind Ufage, fell on as heartily as if 
 I at had been the fineft fet-out Table in the World, 
 That I might make fome Amends for what was pait^ 
 
 E2 1 
 
 
ç 2 The Life an J ASticns Part I. 
 
 I eat on both fides my Mouth., as Hogs do Acorns. 
 
 I felt indeed fomething grate between my Teeth 
 
 that does not ufe tobe in an Omelet, but that matter'd 
 
 not, I eat on for all that, and if there had been 
 
 twenty little Chicken therein, I had fwallow'd them, 
 
 Bones and all, fo well nigh famiih'd I was. At 
 
 length, however, this Omelet feem'd not to have the 
 
 fame Taft as Omelets us'd to have, at leaft I did not 
 
 think it like thofe I had eat at my Mother's Houie ; 
 
 but this I eafily reconcil'd, believing the difference 
 
 of the Country might be the Caule of it, and that 
 
 Eggs were not in all Places of equal Goodnefs. In a 
 
 Word, after I had eat all, and that was no fmall Mo- 
 
 ¿icmn neither, I found my felf fo well fatisfied, that 
 
 J thought I was more than ordinarily happy in getting 
 
 fo good a Repaît; for moft true it is, that Hunger is 
 
 the'beft Sauce, and that Neceflity will force its way 
 
 thro' Stone-Walls. As I work'd with both Hands, 
 
 as well as with both Jaws, the Bufinefs was foon over, 
 
 and J had met with no Let or Hindrance, if it had 
 
 not been for the Bread, which indeed I had much ado 
 
 to get down. I eat, 'tis true, by Intervals, becaufe 
 
 the Meat being very bad, my Mouthfuls muft have 
 
 had time to get into my Stomach, or they would 
 
 have choak'd me. I began with the Cruft of my 
 
 Bread, and ended with the Crum, which indeed was 
 
 the worft, for it was not above a quarter bak'd ; but 
 
 as bad as it was, I left none to find Fault with. I did 
 
 as Boys do by Cherries, who, tho' they begin with 
 
 the plumper!: and ripeft, ufually cat all before they have 
 
 done. If this Bread had been good, three Pounds, 
 
 according to my Fancy, would not have fatisfied me. 
 
 "Tis true, that Year the Harveft was very bad in 
 
 Spain, and then the City of Sevil was wont to fuffer 
 
 extreamly, but that's no wonder, fince it feldom has 
 
 Corn fufficient for its Inhabitants, even in the belt 
 
 of Seafons. God knows who is the Caufe of it, and 
 
 it would not have become me to dive into the Rea- 
 
 fon, 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. ç 3 
 
 ion, becaufe I was but a Boy. All I might obferve 
 was, that 'twas the fame Thing almoit in all other 
 Cities which are govern'd alike. They that have 
 the Adminiftration of Affairs, do not buy their Poits 
 for nothing. They muft have Advantages one way 
 or other to reimburfe themfelves, and, as the Say- 
 ing is, So many Magiftrates as there are y fo many Blood- 
 fuckers are there. Good Times likewife are not the 
 beft for them to Prey in, but Bad are ever more pro- 
 per, when they do not fail to harafs the poor People un- 
 mercifully. Hence it comes, that in few Years they 
 are drawn by Coaches and Six, build magnificent 
 Houfes, furnifh them fumptuoufly, maintain delicious 
 Gardens at vaft Expence, and go cloath'd, both 
 themfelves and their Families, like fo many Princes. 
 Do you think the bare Revenues of their Ports can 
 afford all this ? No, certainly, there is fomething 
 more in the Wind, and, which the People ill all be 
 íüre to feel. 'Tis the Abufe of their Power is the 
 Definition of the Subject, and to excufe themfelves 
 they only cry, Why it belongs to the Publick; as if 
 it were not as great a Crime to rob the Publick, as a 
 private Man. A venerable and honeft old Gentle- 
 man, obferving one of thefe Officers to exceed his 
 Charge, faid to him, out of Zeal for the Publick 
 Good, Is that Mr. N what you fwore to in 
 
 the Town-Houfe ? What's that to any Body, anfwer'd 
 he haughtily, finpe I'm fatisfied I do but my Duty. 
 'Tis probable he call'd doing his Duty, turning every 
 thing into Money, for he ow'd a great deal ; where- 
 by having heap a up a good Sum, he not only paid 
 what he was indebted, but in a few Years erected 
 himfelf into a Great and Potent Lord. Were it not 
 better then, inftead of Oaths which thefe Officers 
 and Magiftrates are made to take, which neverthe- 
 lefs do but ferve to damn them, and abufe the Cre- 
 dulity of the poor People ; Were it not better, I fay, 
 That thefe Offices and Employments fhould be fold, 
 
 E 5 and 
 
54 The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 and the Money be brought into the Publick Treafu- 
 ry, than that thefe perjur'd ftafcals íliould have the 
 Benefit of it. How can thefe Villains, who, in their 
 exalted Stations, ihould ferve as Examples of Good 
 to others, have the Face to condemn thofe to rigou- 
 rous Punifnments, whom they have taught to rob the 
 Publick ? Ought not they to fear the fame Informa- 
 tions being exhibited againft them, as they have 
 caus'd to be brought againft others for the fame 
 Crimes, which they themfelves neverthelefs are more 
 guilty of. They think, perhaps, they are fhelter'd 
 from Juftice, becaufe Juftice is under their Admini- 
 ftration. They govern therefore as they pleafe, and 
 every thing is right that they do. They agree a- 
 mong themfelves, and ihake Hands reciprocally. 
 To Day it is mv Turn, and to morrow it {hall be 
 yours. Do but fufFer me to Buy, and I'll permit you 
 to Sell.. They regulate the Markets as they think fit, 
 and put what Price they pleafe upon Provifions. 
 They are not only Supervifors of the Farms, but are 
 oftentimes the Farmers themfelves, under borrow'd 
 Names j or elfe they let Thofe farm the Publick Re- 
 venues whom they have a right Underftanding with, 
 and from whom they draw great Sums by way of 
 Parrnerihip. In a Word, without explaining my 
 felf further, what do thefe pretended Zealots for the 
 Good of their Country do, that does not turn to their 
 own particular Profit ? We always hear them make 
 a Noiie about their Services and Sufferings, and yet 
 in a few Years you fee them rife out of the Earth like 
 Muihroms. Thefe are the Animals that Kings are 
 generally ferv'd by, for Republicks have for the moft 
 part more Caution, and put into thefe Pofts Perfons 
 of greater Integrity. Of this we have many Exam- 
 ples, and I fay nothing but what every Body knows 
 as well as my felf. I fay again, that at Scvil thefe 
 Abu íes are greater than ordinary, eipecially as to 
 \ 3 and whatever elfe the Earth produces, which, 
 
 perhaps 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 55 
 
 perhaps, is thereabouts as fértil as in any part of Spain, 
 and which confequently ihould occafion Abundance 
 in that City- but Thanks be to the Gentlemen that 
 have the Adminiftration of Publick Matters, there's 
 as great Scarcity there as any where, and above all 
 this Year, when I rallied out. upon my noble Expe- 
 dition. I know what Reafons might be given for it; 
 but tho' I ihould tell them, and comment upon them 
 never fo much, thefe Practices would not be re- 
 form'd. The Perfons that have the Super-intendency 
 over them, are interefted in them, and will tell you 
 there are fome Evils that ought to be tolerated, and 
 that if you purge a Man's Body too much, 'tis the 
 direel; way to fend him to his Grave. What Argu- 
 ments will not thefe State-Quacks ufe, to make you 
 fwallow their Pills ? Poor Publick, or rather poor 
 Milch-Cow, after all the plentiful Pailfuls thou baft 
 given to thefe ungrateful Wretches, they will not be 
 contented till they have the Knife in thy Throat, 
 and the Skin from thy Back. By what People, good 
 God, is Mankind for the moft part govern d ? Hear 
 them but fpeak, and you'd*think they were Oracles, 
 fo much they feem to deflre the good of their Coun- 
 try ; but God alone knows what they do. They pre- 
 tend all to die for their Country, but not one of 
 them will come near a Fagot. If there be any pu- 
 blick Edifice to be built, they are both Architect -, 
 Undertakers and Mafons. If there be any publick 
 Wood to cut, they'l be fure to furnim their Houles 
 with Fuel for a Twelve-month. If any Bodies Goods 
 are to be confifcated, the greateft Share muft be fure 
 to come to them. At any publick Au&ion, no Body 
 muft prefume to bid above them. But I am got 
 into too large a Sea, and I find I ihall be Ship- 
 wreck'd if I proceed farther, therefore I had bell 
 get aihore again as foon and as well as I can. 
 
 
 --; 
 
 E 4 Thou 
 
5¿ The Ufe and Anions Part 11 
 
 Thou feeft, courteous Reader, how inclinable I 
 am to fpare no Body, and that I can't help telling 
 Truth for the Blood of me ; therefore I hope thou 
 wilt excufe me if I offend thee, for I proteft I can't 
 help it. My Pen will fometimes flip from my Hand, 
 and all the Art I have cannot hold it in. I can only 
 make the fame Excufe for it the Muleteer did, who 
 coming by a Man with his Mule laden, the Beaft by 
 chance threw him down, which his Matter feeing, 
 he turn'd about and cried, I hope Friend youl excuie 
 him, for the Beaft is but a Beaft. To conclude, the 
 Bread that I eat in that damn'd Inn was curfed bacj, 
 tho' Hunger taught me to like it then; but I made 
 my felf Amends afterwards with Wine, which I got 
 the old Jade to bring out, and which was the beft in 
 all thofe Parts. In a Word, having paid my Hofteis 
 -what file demanded, I fet forwards upon my Journey 
 much more gay and brisk than when I left Seuil. My 
 Feet, which before were fcarce able to bear up my 
 Belly, tho' that was as empty and light as could be, 
 now began to trip it, and had no occafion to be bid 
 go. When I had gone about a League, I began to feel 
 my Guts wamble, occafion'd, as I prefently fuppos'd, by 
 the Dinner I had eaten, and which made me to make 
 a thoufand Reflections. Thofe little Things in the 
 Omekt, which crak'd between my Teeth, gave me 
 the moft Difturbance, yet I could not imagine what 
 they fhould be, and the more I thought of them, the 
 farther I were from finding them out ; however, I 
 could not but keck at the Remembrance of them, as 
 prefenting to my Imagination fomething that was 
 highly naufeous and loathfome. This I was in a 
 manner confirm'd in, when I reflected hp will feafon'd 
 and black the Omelet was, and which lopk'd as if it 
 had been fried in Candle-Greace, and eolour'd with 
 Candle-Snuffs, hfy Hoftefs alio, with her Blear- 
 jEyes, came into my Mind, and made me ready to 
 fpue, which, in effect, I afterwards did. At length, 
 
Book I. of Guzman d^Alfarache.' 57 
 
 by meer dint of Thinking, I fancied I had found out 
 the Secret, and which was., that my Omelet was 
 Amphibious, having fomething in it that ihould not 
 be there. This I was altogether convine'd of, when, 
 in about an Hours travelling more, I found I could 
 go no further without making Reftkution, and which 
 made the Matter plain, which before I but fancied. A 
 Woman in Travel could not endure worfe and more 
 racking Pains than I did at firft, but at length, after 
 feveral Spouts, I found my felf eafier, but was never- 
 thelefs brought all of a fudden fo weak, that I could 
 hardly ftand. The Thoughts how I ihould get to a 
 Lodging did not a little afrlid: me, having at leaft 
 two Leagues to go before I could come at one ; but 
 while I was thus mufing, my good Fortune would 
 have it, that a Muleteer came by with fome unladen 
 Mules, who feeing me in that Condition, be- 
 friended me, as you ihall hear in the following 
 Chapter. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Guzman tells the Muleteer what had befallen him 
 with his Hofteft, and reflefts upon iinneccf- 
 fary Laughter. Then he tells you Two fiort 
 Tales 5 One of a Covetous PhyJ/cian, and the 
 other how Two Soldiers fervd hk Hoflcfs • and 9 
 at loft, falls into a Learned Difcourfe about par- 
 doning of Injuries* 
 
 THE Muleteer feeing me fo Sad and Melancholv, 
 leaning againft the Wall of a Vineyard, feem'd, 
 as I fancied, to have fome Pity on me, and flopping 
 ask'd me what made me to look fo pale. I told him 
 what had happend to me at the Inn, whereupen 
 
 he 
 
58 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 he fet up fo great a Laughter, that I thought he 
 would have drop'd from his Mule, and which he 
 had certainly done, if he had not lupported himfelf 
 with both his Hands. This by no means pleas'd me, 
 for it muft needs be difagreeable to one under Affli- 
 ction, to be laugh'd at for what he can't help. My 
 Man however went on, and rather redoubled than 
 leffen d his Mirth, which I perceiving, let him laugh 
 his Belly full, as knowing, if I had teftified my Dif- 
 pleafure never ib much, he would but have laugh'd 
 the more. I was no ways provided for fighting, 
 neither with Sword nor Quarter-Staff, and for Fifti- 
 cuffs, I knew he muft needs be too hard for me at 
 them ; befides, I did not think fit to difoblige him, in 
 hopes I might borrow one of his Mules, to do that 
 for me which my Legs were hardly able to do : I 
 therefore befpoke him fair, and thought I was much 
 in the right ont. A Man muft not bully out of Sea- 
 fon ; when he finds the Party too ftrong againft him, 
 'tis better to Diifemble than Contend. I jocularly, 
 however, gave him to underftand- I was difJMeas'd, 
 and faid to him, Well Friend, and what makes you 
 fo merrily difpos'd ? I befeech you, What makes you 
 to laugh fo heartily ? Is it that my Nofe ftands awry, 
 or what other Caufe have I given for your fo great 
 Mirth ? This made him but laugh the more, never- 
 the lefs he at length ftopd, and faid, 'Tis not at you 
 nor your Adventure, little Gentleman, that I laugh, 
 for your Cafe is too deplorable to make a Jeft of, but 
 at your old Hag of an Hofteis, who had fuch a 
 Trick plaid her to Day by two Soldiers, as has fuf- 
 ficiently reveng'd your ill Ufage. But to lofe no 
 Time, if you go the fame way with me, get up on 
 one of my Mules, and I'll tell you the Story as we 
 ride along. This laft Compliment made me full A- 
 mends for whathe had done before, fo, without farther 
 Intreaty, I got up on one of his Beafts, and was 
 ready to give him Audience as íbon.as he ihould be 
 
 difpos'd 
 
Vol.1 
 
Book! of Guzman d'Alfarache." 59 
 
 diipos'd to begin. He told me their, that thefe two 
 Soldiers coming into the fame Inn, much about the 
 time that I went out, they ask'd for fomething to 
 eat, and the Hoftefs anfwering them as fhe had done 
 me, That ihe had nothing but Eggs, they bid her 
 make ready a good Omelet, which me did, and brought 
 them -, but when they were about to cut it, their 
 Knives found Refinance in feveral Places. This ma- 
 king them think there was fomething in it more than 
 ihould be, they confented to tear it to pieces, which 
 they did into three Parts, and thereby difcover'd 
 two or three fmall Lumps, which, upon Diifection, 
 they found to be fo many unform'd Chickens, whofe 
 Heads and Bills were fomewhat hard, and plainly 
 ihew'd what they were. The Soldiers finding how the 
 Cafe flood, feem'd to take no Notice of it, but having 
 clap'd a Plate over the Omelet, as if they had eaten 
 what they would of it, they calfd for fomething elfe. 
 The Hoiiefs told them, ihe had juft been fcaling a 
 Cabalo, a fort of Sea-Fiih like a Shad, of which, 
 if they pleas'd, ihe would broil them two or 
 three Slices. They bad her do fo, and told her they 
 would pay her what ihe deferv'd. But as ihe was 
 broiling this Fiíh over the Fire, one of my Comrades 
 comes up to her, with the uneaten Omelet, and with 
 all his force flap'd it in her Face, infomuch that the 
 Eggs flicking like a Plaifter, fhe was blind for a good 
 while after, and not being able prefently to get it off, 
 baul'd out for Help, as if ihe had been ftuck. At this 
 my other Comrade came up, who, feeming to difap- 
 prove of what his Brother Soldier had done, gave 
 his Landlady good Words, but at the fame time 
 ftroking her over the Face with a handful of Soot„ 
 made her look like any Devil. This done, they both 
 went out of the Houfe, calling their Hofleis old 
 Tcothleis Bitch, for treating Travellers after' that 
 rate, and giving them Fleih on Saturdays, when they 
 ihould cat none, Now, quoth the Muktccr } do you 
 
 not 
 
ií © The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 not think this old Hag made a fine Figure with her 
 black and yellow Face ; her Blear-Eyes encircled 
 with a red Callous , and funk I know not how far into 
 her Head ; her turn'd-up Nofe with wide gaping 
 Noftrilsj and her Splay-mouth ílretch'daYard wide, 
 and fquawling as if ihe had been damn'd in Hell, and 
 where, indeed, Ihe ought to be. The Muleteer had 
 jfcarce ended his Story before we met two Fryars 
 on the Road, who, feeing us afar off, had waited 
 till we came up, that they likewife might have the 
 benefit of riding, of which it feems they had great 
 need, being fwingingly tir'd as well as my felf. They 
 quickly agreed with the Muleteer to carry them to 
 Cazalla, whither he alfo was going; and having 
 mounted each his Beaft, we jogg'd on at an eafy 
 rate. Whilft we were thus ambling along, the Mu- 
 leteer refum'd his Story, and, in conclufipn, told us the 
 bare Remembrance how that old Jade of an Hofteis 
 bad been ferv'd by the two Soldiers, would ferye him 
 for Laughter all the Days of his Life. I replied, and 
 it will lerve me no lefs for Vexation, in that I could 
 not be reveng'd on the old Hag as they were ; but 
 Patience, quoth I, ihe is not dead yet, and I may 
 have a fling at her ugly Chops before I die ftill. The 
 good Fryars, feeing me in fuch a Paffion, ask'd the 
 Muleteer what had been the oçcafion of it. The fly 
 Rafcal defiring no better Sport, began my Story a- 
 new, which, you may imagine, was no fmall Morti- 
 fication to me. The Fryars exceedingly blam'd the 
 old Slut's Action, and no lefs condemn'd my Refent- 
 ment, efpecially iince it lafted fo long ; and one of 
 them turning to me, faid, " You are but a Youth, 
 * c Son, and that, I fuppofe, is the Reafcn that your 
 <f Blood is fo warm ; but I muit tell you, you do ill 
 ec to give way to your Pailion, and you ought rather 
 ff to bridle and ftifle your R.efentment, and not be 
 cc forry, as you pretend, that you did not take Revenge 
 2 upon that miferable old Woman,. Jie went on, and 
 
 read 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache^ €£ 
 
 read me a long Le&ure upon the Sin and bad Confe- 
 quences of Anger and Revenge, exhorting me to 
 pardon Injuries after the Example of our BleJJèd Sa- 
 viour ; but all he faid had little effe& upon me, and 
 I believe he did it only to keep in Mind the lait Ser~ 
 mon he had made on thefe Subjc&s. Such Exhorta- 
 tions were very improperly addreis'd to a Youth as I 
 was, and much more to fuch a Muleteer as ours, who 
 did nothing but laugh all the while our good Father 
 was preaching, and throwing away his Pious Inítru- 
 ¿tions, back'd by feveral PaiTages out of the Scripture, 
 on one who fo little underftood them. Neverthelefs, 
 as I have always had a good Memory, I remember'd 
 fuch as I lik'd belt of them, and which are as follows. 
 <c If we confider rightly, faid he, what greater, and 
 cc even more glorious Revenge can there be, than to 
 tc hkve had it in our Power to Revenge an Injury, 
 (c and yet not to have done it. What is more fhame- 
 ful than this Paflion, even before God and Man, 
 fince it is nothing but what the fierceft Beans 
 :c are moil fubjeél to. It is only excufable in Women, 
 ' c on account of their natural Weaknefs ; for as to 
 :f Man, fomething Greater and more Rational is ex- 
 rc peded from him. Pardoning is the Sign of a great 
 rc Soul, that knows how to conquer it felf, and 
 rc mailer its Partions. The Revengful Man becomes 
 rf criminal, and fubjeft to Juftice ; whereas the Lord 
 :c of the Creation's Bufinefs ihould be to judge Up- 
 " rightly, and afford Mercy. We depend not en 
 " our fclves, but on God, who is our Creator, and 
 ff to whom alone we are indebted for all we enjoy. 
 " If all we have be his, and we have nothing of 
 iC our own, who is that can take what we have 
 " from us ? He that offends us, offends him. God 
 <c has referv'd Vengeance wholly to himfelf ; and for 
 <{ us to think to revenge our felves, and thereby en- . 
 fc trench on the Almighty's Prerogative, is the utmoil 
 " Inlblence and Temerity, We can at bed but 
 
 " revenge 
 
 cc 
 
éá The Life and Aftions Part L 
 
 <c revenge our felves as Men, and that weakly, 
 " whereas God can do it like himfelf, and that ie- 
 cc verely. Let us leave then this Office to him, who is 
 <c beft able to do it effe&ually. It cannot be long 
 cc firil, in regard that Man is of no long duration. 
 cc Seneca, tho' a Heathen, gives us, in himielf, an 
 <c Example of what Chriftians ought to do. Being 
 cc one Day in the Market-Place, and one of his Ene- 
 C( mies happening to {land by him, he all of a fud- 
 " den gave him a Kick. The A<5Hon, to fpeak truth, 
 fC was bafe, and the Injury very great. Thofe 
 " that flood by, and faw what had been done, ad- 
 <c vifed Seneca to take the Law of his Adverfary, 
 ct which he laughing heartily at, faid, What, would 
 "you have me go to Law with a Beaft, becaufè 
 Cf he has kick'd me? No, I confider it is his Nature 
 Cf to kick, and therefore have no more to fay> to 
 cc him. Now was not this the greateft Revenge he 
 cc could have taken upon his Enemy, to flight what 
 (C he had done, and to liken him to a Beail ? The 
 good Father went on, and utter'd Wonders on this 
 Head, infomuch that his Sermon and Exhortation 
 together laited at leail two Hours, that is, till we 
 came to Cantillana ; where he and his Companion 
 left us, and went to fup and lie at a Friend's 
 Houfe. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
Book I. of Guzman cTAlfarache.^ ¿3 
 
 CHAP. v. 
 
 ¡Guzman tells how he and the Muleteer eat fevc» 
 veral Parts of a young Mule, having it wh 
 pos'd upon them by his Hofi at Cantillana for 
 Veal : And afterward proceeds to fiew the ma- 
 ny Rafcally Tricks that wicked Hojls put upon 
 poor Travellers* 
 
 F O R my part, I car'd not to leave the Muleteer^ 
 whom asking where we ihould Lodge, he bid 
 me not trouble my felf with that, for he would carry me 
 to one of the beft Inns, not only in that Town, but 
 in all the Country thereabouts, and where I iliould 
 have no Reafon to fear hatch'd Eggs being put upon 
 me for new-laid ones. This pleas'd me exceedingly, 
 for I had a great Defire to make my poor Belly a- 
 mends for the ill Treatment I had met with at the 
 other Inn , and, befides, I had more than ordinary 
 occafion, being extreamly hungry. The Inn, in 
 Truth, appear'd what itf was reprefented to be, and 
 the Hoft came to receive us at the Door with great 
 Civility. The Muleteer went to take care of his 
 Mules, but, for my part, I was half dead, not only 
 with riding without Stirrups, but alio with the great 
 Journey I had before had on Foot, and to which 
 I had been but little accuftom'd. My Thighs were 
 bruiz'd and Stiff, my Buttocks were gaul'd, and my 
 Feet fo fuijbated and fwell'd, I could hardly itand- 
 and lb I laid me down on a Couch to reft my felf! 
 When the Muleteer had done, he came and ask'd me 
 whether I would not go to Supper, becaufe he mnft 
 be up and out the next Morning betimes, that he 
 might get by Day-light to G I told him, with 
 
 all 
 
6% The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 all my Hearty but tho : my Hunger was much, it 
 was not fo great as my Wearinefs, therefore I defir'd 
 him to help me a little to walk, and I would be o- 
 blig'd to him^ which he did with great readinefs. 
 When I had taken two or three Turns I fat me down, 
 and we call'd for our Hoft, and told him we defir'd 
 to go to Supper. He acquainted us he had variety 
 of Edibles, and we had nothing to do but to pitch 
 on fomething, and we fiiould have it out of hand. 
 The Muleteer whifper'd in my Ear, and told me he 
 was an excellent Cook, which I was glad to hear, 
 but, withall, I found him a great Talker, and fancied 
 he had the Looks of a Rogue. No matter, faid I to my 
 felf, if he does but give us what's good to eat, let him 
 be as much a Rogue as he will, that ilian't offend me. 
 He was a pleafant fort of Fellow, and, feeing we 
 had befpoke nothing, he came up again with a whim- 
 fical Behaviour, and ask'd us if we would have any 
 Veal, for that he had juft kill'd a fine fat Calf, and 
 we mould have what Joint we pleas'd of it. He faid, 
 he would not have kilfd him yet a-while, if the 
 Drought of the Seafon had not oblig'd him to it. 
 We told him, we lik'd his Propofal very well, and, if 
 he wou'd, he might drefs us a fmall Joint prefently. 
 But now I think on't, cried I, a Joint will be too 
 much for us two. As to that, faid he, I have fome- 
 what juft ready that will fit you. What's that, quoth 
 I, The Calve's Pluck, replied he, and I'll warrant 
 the beft that ever you tailed in your Life. Go fetch 
 it, laid I, but pray let it be well feafon'd : Leave that 
 to me, quoth he ; and fo taking a Skip into the 
 Kitchin, he, almoft as quickly as I have been fpeak- 
 ing, return'd, with a Sallad in one Hand, and the 
 pretended Calve's Pluck in the other. As for the Sal- 
 lad, I thought that too crude and cold for my Sto- 
 mach, that had been fo long empty, and fo fell on 
 the Pluck, which was one of my greateft Dainties, 
 leaving the Muleteer to eat of which he pleas'd. He 
 *** at 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. ¿$ 
 
 at firft chofe the Sallad. The Pluck was FricaiTeed, 
 and look'd tolerably well, but there was very little of 
 itfortwofuch hungry Fellows as we were. 1 nofooner 
 touch'd a Bit, but I fwallow'd it, fo I gave my felfno 
 time to tail whether it was good or bad. The Mu- 
 leteer, obferving how luflily i laid about me, thought, 
 if he let me go on after that rate, I íhould ibon 
 empty the Plate, for it was no better; therefore, 
 quitting his Sallad, he came to help me, and between 
 us we quickly devour'd the Pluck. We called for 
 more, but a lefs Mortel was brought us, our Rogue 
 of an Hoft thinking to conceal his Villâny by fhar- 
 pening our Appetites, for as long as we had little to 
 eat, he thought we would feed heartily, and confe- 
 quently not mind what we had, but ftill call 
 for more as foon as that was done. This fécond 
 Plate was as quickly clear'd as the firft, and we mull 
 needs have a third. I now began to flack my • 
 for I did not find the Tail of our Dainties fo exqui- 
 Cte as I at lirft imagind, yet did not know but the 
 Hogo might proceed from the frying, and fo pafs'd it 
 by. Neverthelefs, finding every bit offend me, I en- 
 quir'd of our Hoil, if he had not fomething elfe to 
 give us, for I had eat enough of that Difli. He told 
 us, if we pleas'd, he would tofs us up a Ragout of 
 the Calves Brains in an inftant. We bid him do fo ; 
 and that we might not be idle in the mean time, he 
 fent us up an Andouilk made of the Guts and Appur- 
 tenances of the fame Beail. This, he fent us Word, 
 was an excellent Tit-bit; but I could not be of his 
 Opinion, for I fancied it tailed of Mules-Dung, or 
 fomewhat worfe, which diíguíled me extreamly. 
 This made me to rife from Table, and leave it en- 
 tirety to my Companion, who from the beginning 
 had fed like a Farmer, and continued the fame rate. 
 At length the Ragout of Brains came up, when Ï 
 tliought to make my felt amends for the baíneís of 
 the Andouih. This Ragout was made with Eggs, 
 
 F into 
 
66 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 into a fort of Omelet • at the firft Sight of which, the 
 Muleteer fet up fo hearty a Laugh, that I thought he 
 would have iplit his Sides. His Mirth offended me 
 as before, for I imagin'd he lauglïd on purpofe to 
 put me in mind of the other Omelet, which had made 
 me fo confoundedly Sick, and to difguft me againft this. 
 I gave him to underftand as much, but he ftill laugh'd the 
 more. Our Hoft, who neither knew certainly why 
 he laugh'd, nor why I was angry, but guefiing it 
 might be about the Brains, and feeing me threaten 
 the Muleteer to throw them againft the Wall if he 
 laugh'd any more at nie , our Hoft, I fay, feeing all 
 this, was upon Thorns to be gone ; but as 'tis the na- 
 ture of a bad Man always to be under Fear and Ap- 
 prehenfion, he, tho' he had never valu'd any Body 
 in his Life, feem'd now to ihake and tremble; never- 
 thelefs, thinking to hide it by falfe Courage, he came 
 up to us with feign'd Fury in his Eyes, and cafting a 
 terrible Look on both of us, faid, clapping his Fill 
 to his Bonnet, 'Sdeath, Gentlemen, i'll maintain this 
 to be good Calves Brains, and therefore there's not 
 fo much need of your Laughter. I'll bring*you a 
 hundred Witneifes, if it were neceflary, fhall prove 
 they faw me kill the Calf. So ridiculous a Bravado 
 from one we did not fo much as think of, made the 
 Muleteer redouble his Laughter, and me to join with 
 him, tho' I had no great Stomach to it at that time. 
 This altogether difmounting our Bully, who, con- 
 fcious of his Guilt, was afraid, even of his own 
 Shadow, and who, thought every Word we fpoke re- 
 proach'd him with his Crime, he began now to hang 
 down his Head, and grow as pale as Death, not be- 
 ing able to imagine any thing elfe, but that we had 
 detected his Villany, fince he faw nothing pais be- 
 tween us that could give occafion for fo much Laugh- 
 ing aifd Refentment. Flowever at length recover- 
 ing his Courage, and feeing we laugh'd on> he 
 proceeded to grow more warm ; v/hen match- 
 ing 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 67 
 
 ing the Plate rudely from the Table, and which, in 
 a manner, he wreftedout of our Hands, for we were 
 feeding heartily, tho' we feem'd not to like our 
 Victuals ; Gentlemen, crys he, You may go laugh 
 and eat elfewhere, if you pleafe, for I will nei- 
 ther lodge nor diet any Body that fhall make a Jeft of 
 me. Pay me only tor what you have had, and go 
 and laugh your Skins full. The Muleteer, who was 
 ftill hungry as well as my felf, finding the Matter no 
 longer a Jeft, turn'd about haftily, and looking fierce- 
 ly at our Holt, cried, Well, and what would you have, 
 Friend, who goes about to make a Jeft of you ? A 
 Jeft or not, replied the Hoft, I'll maintain 'tis fweet 
 and good Veal, and that thefe are good Brains. This 
 he utter'd with fuch an Air and Tone, as if he had 
 been juft going to beat us; which my Comrade ob- 
 ferving, who, it leems, knew him better than I, and 
 was a fit Match for him, h* rofeup, and taking upon 
 him the Bully in his turn, What, fays he, and are 
 there then Orders in this Inn that determin how far 
 and when a Man mail laugh, efpecially a Stranger 
 that comes hither for Lodging ? Or is there any Tax 
 that has been laid by the Government upon Laugh- 
 ing, or are you employ'd to collet the Duty ? Or if 
 none of thefe, pray, Sir, tell me what means all this 
 Interruption ? I don't mean any thing of that, re- 
 plied the Hoft, grown ibmewhat more mild, I only 
 fay, 'Tis <iot reafonable that any Body ihould ridi- 
 cule me in my own Houfe, or make me pais for one 
 that did not treat his Guefts well. Who fays any 
 thing of treating your Guefts, quoth the Muleteer? 
 Do you but fet down the Plate as it was before, and 
 you mall foon find it was neither that we laugh'd at, 
 nor complain'd of; but, I mould think, you ought to 
 fuffer every Body to laugh as well at your Houfe as elfe- 
 where. The Hoft then ièt down the Plate again 
 foftly, as he had found it. For my part, cried my 
 Comrade, If Ï liad a mind to laugh aç any thing 
 
 F z what> 
 
¿8 The Ufe an J ASíions Part I. 
 
 whatfoever that belong'd to you, I would be fure to 
 tell you of it. But 'twas this fort of Omelet you have 
 given us that occafion d our Laughter, and which 
 brought into my Mind an Adventure my little Com- 
 panion here had to Day in an Inn where he dined. 
 Th¿ made me laugh, and not your Brains., nor your 
 Calves Head, of which I did not fo much as think. 
 Our Rogue began now to be altogether appeas'd, in- 
 ibmuch, that the Muleteer fet about telling him the 
 whole Story of the two Soldiers and the Hoftefs^ not 
 omitting what Share I had in it, which, neverthelefs, 
 I was fain to hear with Patience, tho' it was the third 
 time it had been told. Now the Jeit was, to fee the 
 many odd Geftures, and pious Exclamations, which 
 this honeit Man of an Hoft made ufe of all the while 
 the Story was telling, which he often interrupted 
 "with, Good Jefus ! Holy Virgin ! Goad Heavens ! and a 
 thoufand fuch-like Invocations, which made the 
 Houfe to ring again, and which he always accompa- 
 nied with the Sign of the Crofs. The Muleteer had 
 no fooner done., but burning with a Defire to fpeak, 
 he began thus : Heaven be prais'p! ( lifting up his 
 Hands and Eyes in a fort of Extacy) that is has been 
 pleas'd to give every good Man Honour and Con- 
 fcience enough to govern himfelf according to the 
 Laws ; but for him that does 111, 111 will come of it. 
 Then taking a ferious Turn or two about the Room, 
 with his Arms crofs'd and rais'd towards hi& Chin 3 he 
 was fome Minutes without ipeaking • but at length 
 breaking forth into a furious Paflîon, he cried, in a 
 thundring Tone, How is it poffible that wicked 
 Houfe fhould efcape being fwallow'd up ! How good 
 muft God be, to defer the Puniihment of that wretch- 
 ed Woman ! How can ihe dare to tread on the 
 Ground, and not apprehend being dragg'd to the 
 Center, where fome hold Hell is ? I never met with 
 any Bcdy yet but complain'd of her, nay curft both 
 her and her Meat. No Body ever went contented 
 
 out 
 
Book I. of Guzman d' Al farache. 69 
 
 out of her Doors, but every one left a Mark there, 
 that they might never return thither again. Here he 
 ftop'd for a Moment longer, and then began again. 
 Is it poiîiblc, faid he, that all mould be I.yars that 
 go to that Houfe, and that one honeft Man ihould 
 not be found among them to fpeak the Truth ? No, 
 it is not poflible, and therefore all muft be believ'd 
 that has been faid of it. All is true, all is damnable. 
 She ought long fince to have been taught how to live 
 more like a Chriftian. Is there never a Smith in the 
 Country that knows how to fit an Iron Trüfs for her, 
 or a Rope-maker that can furniih a Halter to put an 
 End to her Villanies. O Juftice, Juftice, what art 
 thou become ! 'Tis true, ihe has been forbid feveral 
 times to keep an Inn, but what does that iignify, 
 fince me does it ftill, and carries on her Rogueries as 
 much as ever. Yet, whenever file comes to be pu- 
 niíh'd, I ihall not be the occafion of it, for Heaven 
 knows I wifh her no harm ; but I can't but pity thofe 
 honeft Gentlemen who are daily rob'd and cheated 
 by her. The Juftice of Peace, Confiable and 
 Headboroughs, cannot but know, methinks; of thefe 
 ill Practices of hers ; but then, if they do not puniih 
 her, you may guefs the Reafon of it. Good God } 
 In what Times do we live ! Here this honeft Man 
 launch'd forth a deep Sigh, which I thought would 
 have put an end to his Harangue ; but after fome 
 time, he went on again for at leaft half an Hour; 
 and then concluded, with a Praife be to God and the 
 BleiTed Virgin, in that, for all my Poverty, I have 
 not been tempted to Trade after this manner. Every 
 thing is fold with me, thanks be to Heaven, for what it 
 really is, and not a Cat for a Rabbet, nor a Ram for a 
 good Sheep. Honefty's the beft Policy ; and he that 
 deals fairly, may look any Body in the Face in all 
 Countries whatfoever. Let every one take only 
 •»* T hat belongs to him, and not give their Minds to 
 cheating,- líft at lait they cheat thernfelves. He 
 
 F % made' 
 
7o y be Lije and Aft ions Part I. 
 
 made an end at length only thro' want of Breath, 
 which we taking advantage of, and not being wil- 
 ling to hear any more of his Hypocrify, ask'd him 
 for ibmewh at elle in the room of the Defert, for I had eat 
 little or nothing of the Brains-Ragout,becauie I thought 
 it tailed too much like the AndouiUe, but my Com- 
 panion had made ihifc to devour it all. He brought 
 us a Plate of good large Olives, which I lik'd very 
 well, becaufe they relifh'd the Wine, which was in- 
 deed excellent, and the Bread, that was much bet- 
 ter than what we had met with at the other Inn. 
 As for my Comrade, no Wolf ever fed more greedi- 
 ly, I thought he would never have done ; tho' we 
 had been an Hour at Table, he feem'd to have as 
 good an Appetite as when we firit fate down. As 
 we defign'd to be gone next Morning betimes, we 
 defir'd our Hoft to get our Breakfaft ready early. 
 This Order given, we went to Bed, but which was 
 only on the Straw, and where we had nothing to 
 cover us but our Mule-Furniture, with which we 
 kept our felves as warm as we could. What became 
 of us afterwards, you'll find in the following Chapter. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Guzman goes on, and tells how the ViUany of hk 
 Hofl of Cantil lana cante to be difcoverd ^ and 
 what afterwards hefel him and the faid Hofl» 
 
 HA D I next Morning, which was Sunday, been 
 phc'd in the Market-Place of Sevil, or fet at 
 my Mother's Door, I doubt whether any Body that 
 came by would have known me, ib much was J dis- 
 figur'd with the biting of Fleas that fed on me all the 
 Night. One would have thought this had been a 
 
 Year 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 71 
 
 Year of Famine for them, and that my Body was to 
 ferve to bring them out of it : Or eife you would 
 have taken me for one that had lately liad the Small- 
 Pox, for not only my Hands, but all my Body over, 
 was fvvingingly fpotted. It was my good Fortune, 
 neverthelcfs, that being greatly fatigud with my 
 Journey, and having drank freely for one that was 
 not us'd to it, I ilept fo foundly, that I felt nothing 
 of the Matter ; and the Muleteer was fain to call me 
 more than once e're he could wake me, and when he 
 did, he told me, I muft rife and go to Mafs before we 
 fet out. It was broad Day-light, and we were foon 
 ready, for we had nothing to do but to make off our 
 Straws that hung about us, and we were prepar'd for 
 our Journey. Our Breakfaft only muft be had firft, 
 for which we calfd, for my Comrade had all the 
 Night ilept with his Mouth open, and that was the 
 firft thing he thought of when he wak'd. Our Hoft 
 told us, it waited for us on the Table. When we came 
 down, we found an excellent Piece, as our Hoft frid, 
 of the fame Veal, which he had fet a ftewing on pur- 
 pofe for us ; and made a high Sauce, that wanted 
 neither Salt nor Pepper. He had, no doubt, his 
 Reafons for that. The Muleteer did not want biding 
 to fit down, he did it without Ceremony, and was 
 the firft that plac'd himfelf at Table, falling on this 
 excellent Piece of Veal, as heartily as if it had been 
 a Capon or Pheafant. For my part, either becaufe 
 it was too early for me to eat, or that I had eaten 
 too much the Night before, or elfe for fome other 
 Rcafon, I could eat little or nothing ; neverthelefs, 
 feeing the Muleteer feed after that rate, it gave me 
 fome Appetite. I knew I fhould pay never the lefs, 
 and I doubted whether we ihould find fo good a Re- 
 pair, at Dinner, or whether I might not repent of not 
 Eating, if I did not. I ftrove then to eat, and got 
 down fome Morfels, but I did not find them fo ihort 
 and delicate as the Muleteer pretended. They were 
 
 F 4 
 
7 2 The Life and Anions Part I . 
 
 on the contrary very tough; and FU aíTure you, their 
 rellifh was not extraordinary good. I could not for- 
 bear giving my Opinion of them before the Hoil, 
 and told my Companion, he ought to have better 
 Teeth than mine to manage them ; and belides, that 
 I did not think they had altogether the Tail of 
 Veal; Don/t you iee, anfwer'd the Hoft, bluihing a 
 little, that the Calf has been juft kill d^ and has not 
 yet had time to grow tender. That is not the Rea- 
 ibn, replied the Muleteer, but our young Gentleman 
 there, I fuppofe, has been fed with Cracknels, March- 
 pane and new-laid Eggs, and that makes him he does 
 not like this Veal, as thinking it tough, in refpe¿t of 
 iuch ihort feeding. I made no Reply, but I left off 
 eating, finding my felf as well fatisfied with this Vi- 
 ¿luals, as if I had eaten never fo much. I neverthe- 
 leis let my Companion eat what he pleas'd ; and 
 whilft he was feeding fo heartily, I had a hundred 
 Thoughts came into my Head concerning the Tail 
 of this Veal, that of the Andouille, and that of the 
 Brains-Ragout ; which two lait we had over Night. 
 Thefe Reflections did not pleafe me, and I thought 
 I had more than ordinary Reafon to fufpeft our Hoil, 
 on account of his paffionate Behaviour when he faw 
 us Laugh, and the Oaths and Proteilations he made, 
 that it was Veal we eat, and that the Brains came 
 out of a Calves Head, of which, however, no com- 
 plaint was made. All this, I thought, foretold nothing 
 that was good; and altho' I could not yet fee clearly 
 into the Matter, I doubted not but there was fome 
 Roguery in it. My Imagination being thus pre- 
 poiTcfs'd, you need not wonder if my Palate was pre- 
 judice ; io I arofe from Table, being not able to en- 
 dure either the Si.^ht or Smell of that odious Victuals. 
 The Muleteer likewife roie foon after, and going to 
 take Care of his Mules, I ask'd him, if we fhould not 
 call to know what was to pay. He told me, there 
 was nothing for me ; and being but a Trifle, I muil 
 
 fufFer 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 75 
 
 fuffer him to pay. it. This Proceeding I thought ex- 
 treamly obliging, and which exceeded the Generality 
 of moil of his Rank, but I did not think fit to make 
 many Compliments upon it, becaufe my Purfe was 
 lank, and I had hardly Money enough left to pay 
 for two fuch Expeditions more. I therefore fuffer'd 
 him to difcharge this Reckoning, and believ'd it not 
 below me, efpeeially at this Juncture, to be treated 
 by a Muleteer. Reflecting then upon all this honeft 
 Man's Civilities, that is, his lending me his Mule, 
 hisComplaifanceon the Road, his paying this Reckon- 
 ing for me, and the like, I concluded, that a truly 
 generous Temper was not only to be found among 
 great Lords and Princes, but even many times in 
 lowly Hutts, and with mean Perfons, who, thro' a 
 pure Principle of Virtue, of which neverthelefs they 
 knew not the Name, have naturally done that which 
 the Generous, by Profeffion, have done only thro' 
 Vanity, Oilentation, and oftentimes Intereft. To 
 fhew my Gratitude to this honeft Muleteer, I led his 
 Mules to Water, and carried them back to their Man- 
 gers, to the end, that whilft they were getting ready 
 for our Journey, they might have time to eat a few 
 Oats, and fome Mouthfuls of Hay. I help'd him like- 
 wife to curry them, and rub their Foreheads and Ears, 
 nay, did every thing elfe for him that I could, and 
 never thought I had done enough, fo grateful was I, 
 at that time, to this my generous Benefactor. Whilft 
 I was employ 'd in this manner, I had laid my Cloak, 
 by chance, on a Bench hard by, which, turning a- 
 bout fuddenly to take up after I had done, I found it 
 was gone. This vex'd me a little at firft, but at 
 length, fancying ibmebody might have done it to 
 play the Rogue with me, I grew eafier. I could iuf- 
 pecl: nobody but my Comrade or the Holt, for no- 
 body elfe was near me, and the Street-door was ihut, 
 fo that no Pilferer could come in that way. I en- 
 quir'd then firft of the Muleteer } who told me frankly 
 
 and 
 
74 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 and ferioufly, he knew nothing of my Cloak more 
 than this, that he faw it lie on the Bench; but what 
 was become of it iince, he could not tell. Asking 
 the Hoft the fame thing, he appear'd a little in Con- 
 fufion, and foon after began to Curfe and Swear, 
 and Vow,, that he had not touch'd my Cloak • which 
 fuddain Pafîîon giving me Sufpicion of him, I did 
 not doubt but he had ítol'n my Cloak. I never- 
 thelefs feem'd not to think fo, and with all the 
 Mildnefs imaginable beg'd of him to reftore it me, 
 for that we were juft upon going away, and I had 
 not much time to look for it. He notwithftanding 
 perfifted in his knowing nothing of it, and faid, he 
 had not fo much as feen it ¿ which made me refolve 
 to fearch all the Houfe over rather than lofe it, for 
 I knew he muft have it, and was certain he could 
 not have carry'd it far. With this Refolution, I 
 went from Chamber to Chamber, and from Room 
 to Room, but could hear nothing of it. At length 
 coming into a Back-Court that was near the Kitchin, 
 the Door of which I was at ibme trouble to unlock, 
 I found a great Puddle of Blood that had been but 
 lately fpilt. Looking a little farther, I faw a young 
 Mule's Skin which was juft in a manner flea a, and 
 had ilill hanging to it the four Feet, and part of 
 the Head which had been open'd to take out the Brains. 
 I prefently concluded this muft needs be the excellent 
 Veal our Hoft had recommended to us, and which I 
 could not but look upon with the greateft Horrour 
 and Averfion. Thinking it an Adventure of too 
 great Confequence not to acquaint my Friend the 
 Muleteer with it, who had been as deeply concern'd 
 as my felf, I went privately and call'd him, to the 
 end he might be an Eye-witnefs of To egregious a 
 Villany, mewing him the Mules Ears and Hoofs, 
 which made it plain what Beaft they belong'd to. 
 What think you now, my Friend,quoth I, Is this Hoft 
 of ours a Dog or not ? Do you think now^ I feed 
 
 upon 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 75 
 
 upon nothing but Cracknels, Marchpane, and new- 
 laid Eggs ? This is undoubtedly the fine Calf from 
 whom we have had all thefe Dainties ; and 'tis from 
 hence our excellent Poifoner of a Cook has regal'd 
 us. What think you now of that admirable Cahes- 
 Tluck, excellent Andouille, favoury Ragout, and won- 
 derful Stew'd-Meat, with which you have fo plen- 
 tifully gorg'd your Guts ? The poor Rogue of a 
 Muleteer hearing what I faid, flood as if he had 
 been Thunder-ftruck, and at laft, only ihrugg'd up 
 his Shoulders twice or thrice, but anfwer'd nothing. 
 You fee what a confcientious Rafcal this is, added 
 I, who never fold Cats for Rabbets, nor Rams for 
 good Mutton, yet could give us a young Mule in- 
 ftead of a Calf. This is the Man that thank'd God 
 he could ihew his Face any where, and who fo reli- 
 gioufly curs'd the old Hoftefs for putting Tricks up- 
 on her Guefts. The Muleteer turn d his Head, and 
 went away altogether confounded, kecking a thou- 
 fand times by the way, and endeavouring to Vomit 
 but could not, fo ftrong his Digeftion had been. I 
 follow'd to go and talk with our Hoft, not doubt- 
 ing but now he would give me my Cloak, fin ce I 
 had got fo good a Claw againft him ; for befides 3 
 that his impofing on us in that manner was highly 
 Criminal, he had incurr'd the Penalty of another 
 Law, by having a Mule, fuch Coitions as produce 
 that Creature being prohibited in Andaloufia. This 
 Fellow, however, being not over-fcrupulous, had 
 permitted an Afs or an Horfe indifferently to cover 
 his Mare. He only took care to keep the Matter 
 fecret, that no Body might know what ihe brought 
 forth ; but then being willing to make what Advan- 
 tage he could of the young Creature, he thought it 
 would not be very difficult to make it pais on Tra- 
 vellers, who are generally Hungry, for Veal. I 
 found this wicked Hoft at the Well, waihing ano- 
 ther Piece of the lame Meat., which he endeavour'd 
 
 to 
 
J 6 The Life and Aftions Páít L 
 
 to hide as foon as he faw me. I came up to «him 
 with a great deal of Refolution, telling him perem- 
 ptorily, he muft find my Cloak, or I would bring 
 him before thofe íhould not only make him, but 
 likevvife puniih him for other Crimes. He could 
 not imagine I had difcover'd his Roguer} r , and 
 therefore pretended not to underftand what I meant ; 
 which occaiion'd him to look fcornfully on me, and 
 threaten to Whip me, as, he faid, Boys ought to be. 
 This provok'd me yet more than the lofs of my Cloak, 
 and made me to call him Rogue and Rafcal as loud as 
 I could bawl, and bid him to touch me if he dar'd. 
 He came forwards as if he would ftrike rhe, which 
 perceiving, I took up a Stone and threw at his Head 
 directly, but miffing him, he turn'd Tail, and ran 
 to his Chamber. Ï knew not what he went for, 
 but foon found it was for a Sword, which he 
 brought out naked againft me. I feeing that, 
 call'd him Ten thoufand Cowards, Bullies, Bragga- 
 docia's, Blockheads, Rafeáis and Villains, for com- 
 ing with a naked Sword againft a young Boy that 
 he had but juft before threatned to Whip, and 
 who had no other Arms in his Hand than a few 
 Stones. All the Family came to fee what was the 
 matter, and were not a little frighted to find our 
 Hon; with a drawn Sword in his Hand, which per- 
 haps he had never had before. My Friend, the 
 Muleteer, came alfo to my Affiftance with a Pitch- 
 fork, and between us we made fuch a curfed Noife, 
 
 ceeded ; and finding the Door ihut, would not ftay 
 till it could be unlock'd, but very fairly broke it' 
 open. Then enter' d a whole Mob of People, with 
 Confiables, Sergeants and Bailiffs ; for, thanks to the 
 Wickednefs of the Inhabitants, there were two Bai- 
 liffs in this Town, tho' one had been enough ta 
 
 hay?* 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache.^ 77 
 
 have ruin'd the whole Corporation, for every Body- 
 knows what fort of Cattel thefe are. God deliver 
 every good Chriftian from fuch Plagues - } for I once 
 knew one of thefe efpecially, who would never al- 
 low any Body to be Innocent that was brought be- 
 fore him ; for which reafon he became the Curfe of 
 Mankind, and died foon after in the manner he de- 
 fer v'd. See then, thefe two Bailiffs came into the 
 Houfe to take Cognizance of the Fad, of which 
 each would have the Determination to himfelf. The 
 Confiables and Sergeants were likewife divided, as 
 were alfo the Mob ; fome taking one Side, and fome 
 the other. This rais'd a greater Hurly-burly than 
 before, and the Noife was fo exceeding great, that 
 not one of all the Talkers could be heard. At lafV, 
 the Debate beginning to grow warm, each Party 
 reproaclfd the other with all the Scandal they could 
 rip up, which neverthelefs was for the moil part 
 true. They did not fcruple to difcovcr all they 
 Knew of each others Failings ; for thefe fort of 
 People rather glory in, than endeavour to conceal 
 their Faults. They defy the World, and whatever 
 it fays of them, they never Bluih, becaufe they fay 
 they are us'd to't. Cry they, We ought not only 
 to know how to do our Duty, but likewife to ma- 
 nage our Trade. At length fome honeft Burghers, 
 who were come in with the reft, made up the Dif- 
 ferences, and I were laid hold of firft to lead up 
 the Dance, it being ufual for the Cord to break 
 where it is weaken. I was a Stranger, not ever- 
 rich, without Favour, without Friends, without Ac- 
 quaintance ; and how could I exped: to efcape any 
 better. Is not this the ordinary Courfe of Juftice 
 now-a-days ? Or do you find the greatcit Criminals 
 . puniftfd, or put in Prifon ? No, It is the poor 
 Rogues only that fufFer, tho' their Crimes be never 
 fo filial]. This is to be feen every day, but in fome 
 Countries more than others. Being thus feiz'd, 
 
 thefe 
 
78 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 thefe Magiftrates would needs have -me tell them 
 what was the Occafion of our Quarrel. I acquaint- 
 ed them what pafs'd as to my Cloak, and added the 
 Story of the Mule ; telling them withall, if they 
 pleas'd, they might find what I faid to be true, by 
 going into the Back-Yard near the Kitchin. They 
 did as I advis'd, but firft feiz'd our Holt. He, poor 
 Man, thought that Buftle was all about the Cloak, 
 and iuppofing there could be no Proof of the other 
 Matter againft him, did but Laugh at it ; but when 
 he faw the Mule's Hide, and the other Appurte- 
 nances brought forth, he was ready to drop down 
 dead. Upon Examination, he confefs'd rather more 
 than he was accus'd of, ib true it is, that fuch 
 Cowardly Villains, when they come to be tried for 
 their Crimes, have leaft Impudence where they have 
 moil occafion for it. I was very attentive to all was 
 faid to him, and when he came to be ask'd for my 
 Cloak, expected he would have own'd that piece of 
 Roguery as well as the reft, but to my great Amaze- 
 ment he denied it, and that, I fuppos'd, thro' Re- 
 venge. Neverthelefs, I us'd my beft Endeavours to 
 find it, and fearch'd all the Houfe over once more, 
 but in vain. My Rogue was lent to Prifon, and it 
 was under Debate whether I ihould not be lent with 
 him for Company, for I look'd like a Lad of a good 
 Family, and 'twas more than probable my Friends 
 might have Money enough to redeem me ; therefore 
 the Sergeants advis'd the Bailiffs, not to let flip ib fair 
 an occafion, but to kill two Birds with one Stone. 
 This had undoubtedly been put in execution, had 
 not the honeft Burghers oppos'd it, who faid, It was 
 a Shame that I ihould be puniih'd for nothing, 
 but detecting the Villanies of fo great a Rogue as, 
 this Hoft was. This faVd me, and I could not but 
 return Thanks to thofe honeft Men for their kind- 
 nefs to me. The Muleteer, who was as much afraid 
 p£ being feiz'd as I, and having his Mules and Jour- 
 ney 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. yp 
 
 ney ftop'd , no fooner fa w himfelf cleared by my Acquit- 
 ment, but he whifper'd me in the Ear, and denYd I 
 would be going out of a Town where Juftice was 
 altogether at the Magiftrates Pleafure, and where 
 one was treated one Day after one manner, and 
 another after another. I confented, tho 5 1 was not 
 a little unwilling, you may imagine, to leave my 
 poor Cloak, which I was never likely to fee again. 
 We mounted foon after, and made haft out of the 
 Town till we came to the Place where the two 
 good Fathers ftay'd for us, and who had waited 
 our Coming a confiderable while. \ told them the 
 occafion of our Stay; but as for my Friend, the Mu- 
 leteer, he had not a Word to fay, being wholly taken 
 up with Thoughts of the two admirable Repafts we 
 had had. Tne Fathers feenfd much concern'd at 
 our Misfortunes, efpecially the lofs of my Cloak, 
 which they faid they believ'd was not retrievable. 
 I were much of their Opinion, and wifh'd I could 
 as eafily digeit that Lofs as I had done the Mule, 
 but Impoiîibility has no Remedy but Patience, and 
 that thefe good Religious Men advis'd me to. 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Mans Mis fortunes are here difcoursd of^ and for 
 that purpofe, a Story told of the Gods of ancient 
 Times. Then Guzman tells you, how he ivas ap- 
 prehended for a Thief and by what Means he 
 came to be releas d. Laftly^ one of the Gentlemen 
 promifes to tell a Story, which you have in the 
 following Chapter. 
 
 T 
 
 H E Egyptians, a very fuperftitious fort of People, 
 were formerly, among other Errors, guilt} of 
 
 worfnip- 
 
 
8o The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 worihiping Fortune. They celebrated Feafts, in 
 Honour of her, every firft Day of the Year, and in- 
 vited all the Great Men to coilly Banquets. This 
 they did out of Gratitude, for the Favours they be- 
 liev'd they had receiv'd from her the foregoing 
 Year, and out of Policy to engage her to be as kind 
 to them for the Year to come. They look'd upon 
 her as a Goddefs, who difpos'd of all the good Things 
 of this World/ who took away, and gave as ihe 
 thought fit ; who, governing every thing, prended 
 over all, and, confequently, they thought 'twas to 
 her chiefly Men ought to pay their Vows, and offer 
 their Sacrifices, ihe being not only the Source of all 
 Good and Evil to Man, but likewife the Miftrefs of 
 all the other Divinities, who could enjoy no Happineis 
 without her. They could not believe this*cou'd have a 
 natural Caufe, but thought fome invifibleand omnipo- 
 tent Hand muft have the difpofal of it. What made 
 them of this Opinion, was the daily Misfortunes they 
 faw happen to fome Men ; who, beginning to fink, 
 were all of a fudden o'erwhelm'd and undone, with- 
 out knowing from whence their Difafter came, or 
 what had drawn it upon them ; and that, on the o- 
 ther hand, fome others mould be fnatch'd from the 
 very brink of Ruin, and rais'd to exalted Stations, 
 without being able to guefs what had been the occa- 
 fion of all their Happinefs. The Egyptians wanted 
 the Knowledge of a true God, otherwise they might, 
 in ibme meaiure, have accounted for thefe Effe&s of 
 Divine Providence, and not of any fuch Goddefs as 
 Fortune, which never yet was. If I had been as un- 
 acquainted as they with thefe Matters of Faith, I 
 might, like them,have doubted whence my Misfortunes 
 came fo upon the ISieck of one another; but I was ia- 
 tisfied, my Sins were the Caufe of it. If my Mifhaps 
 had come fingle, I could have welcom'd them with a 
 Bien vengas Mal fi [oh vienes, "Thou art welcome Mis fortune y 
 providing thou com ft alone 3 but I had no iboner gpt 
 
 out 
 
Bbok-L of Guzman d'Alfaráche. 8 i 
 
 out of my Mother's Houfe, but I was furpriz'd by 
 Night and Hunger , and forc'd to take up with a bad 
 Lodging at a Chapel-Door. Then for Dinner on 
 Saturday, I had nothing but a Chick-Omelet ; and for 
 Supper, feveral Ragouts made out of a Mules Careáis. 
 At Night I was devour'd by Fleas, but let that país. 
 Sunday Morning my Breakfaft was of the fame Mule 
 ftew'd, and diiguis'd like Veal, and, for my greater 
 Misfortune, I loft my Cloak by the very fame Rogue 
 that had poyfon'd me juft before. If I had been lent 
 to Prifbn with him too, my Diiafters had been com- 
 pleat, but 'twas my good luck, it feems, to efcape 
 that Snare. If thefe Adventures of mine extend 
 themfelves much further, faid I to my felf, I ihall be 
 able, in time, to make a Book out of them. What 
 ill-boding Star purfues me in this manner, qiioth I, 
 ôr rather what Devil prompted me to leave my Mo- 
 ther's Houfe 3 from which time all Things have gone 
 ill with me. I had heard fay, the Life of a Man was 
 made up of Good and Evil, of Pleafure and Sorrow, 
 of Joy and Sadnefs ; but in my Cafe, the Biais ran all 
 one way ; and, in a Word, during ail the remainder 
 of my Days, in whatfoever Condition I was, I never 
 tailed any but falfe Pleafures, nor felt any but true 
 and lafting Pains. If you are one that will be fatis- 
 fied with a Fable, hearken to what follows, on the 
 fame Subject. 
 
 The great God, Jupiter, having created all Tilings 
 here below, and Man to enjoy them, commanded 
 the God Pleafure to go and refide in the Lower World 
 for the Satisfaction of that Creature, not believing 
 Or imagining his Ingratitude would tempt him fo far 
 as to make him forget his Maker, and, for the fake 
 of a New God, rebel againil that Power to whom 
 he ow'd his Being. But M an, and efpecially Woman.; 
 being chárm'd with this new Deity, who was altogft* 
 ther to their Liking, thought, as long as they had 
 ¡Unit they iliould have occafion for no other Gods. : 
 
 G $ 
 
8 2 The Ufe and Afîions Part 1 
 
 fo Jupiter and his Aifociates were left in the Lurch, 
 and no more Refpe& paid them, than if they 
 had never been Deiñed. All Vidims, Vows, Pray- 
 ers and Sacrifices were offer'd to the God Vleafure, 
 at which Jupiter being exceedingly enrag'd, he cal- 
 led a Council of the Gods to advife him what to do 
 with Mankind. He did not care to ad of himfelf in 
 an Affair of this Nature, that he might not be accus'd 
 of Partiality. All the Gods condemn'd this Pre- 
 emption of Man, tho' fome. did it more, and fome 
 lefs, according as their particular Intereils or Inclina- 
 tions led them. There were a fort of pacifick Gods,who 
 much enclin'd toClemency, reprefented to Jupiter that 
 Men were but Men, that is to fay, frail and weak 
 Creatures ; and therefore, fince he could expedí no- 
 thing perfect from them, he ought, in their humble 
 Opinion, to bear with, and forgive them ; for, faid 
 they, if it were poilible we could change Natures 
 with them, 'tis more than probable we fliouid do as bad 
 or worfe than they have done. They have a God 
 with them, whom they fee every Day, and who does 
 them a thoufand good' Offices, whereas they fee you 
 but feldom, and then, for the moil part, out of Hu- 
 mour, with Thunder in your Hand, which frightens' 
 them, ib that they are in a manner obliged to fear 
 but not to love you. The beft however is, 
 they are not incorrigible ; and if they have done ill 
 for the time pail, they may eafily be prevail'd on- to 
 do better for the time to come, and ib make fufficient 
 Attonement for their paît Crimes. Momm would fain 
 have ipoke here, and began to propofe Matters very 
 freely, but he was íilenc'd, and told he mould be heard 
 in his Turn. He had long wifii'd for an Opportunity to 
 find Jupiter out of humour, that he might incenfe him- 
 againft Man, and now he thought he had got one, but 
 he was, neverthelefs, forced to hold his Peace. In the 
 mean time, thofe other Gods, who were not lefs 
 fet againil Man than Momns, did all they .could to 
 
 exafpe- 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. §3 
 
 exaiperate Jupiter againft him, alledging he was a 
 ufelcfs .Being, and one for whom the Gods had no 
 manner of occafion ; therefore their Advice was, 
 he ought to be altogether extirpated. Such Others, 
 as were not quite fo violent againft Mankind, coun- 
 fel'd Jupiter to exterminate only the prefent Race^ 
 and create a new one, which, they faid, would 
 be an eafy matter for him to do. Apollo, who was 2 
 great Orator, finding his Cue was now to fpeak, he 
 put on an Air of Sweetnefs, which, however, was" 
 natural to him , and having hemm'd once or twice to 
 clear his Voice, began as follows. 
 
 " Supreme Jupiter , full of Mercy and Truth ! 
 f that grievous Accufation wherewith thou chargeír. 
 [ c Man is fo Equitable and Jul!, that whatever Re- 
 " c venge thou art difpos'd to take of him, none of usjj 
 rc I dare fay, will pretend to oppofe it, fince it does 
 (C not only concern thee in particular, but all of us 
 <c in-general, Man having been equally difobedient 
 u and ungrateful to all • furFer me, however, to in- 
 <c finuate, if thou deftroy'ft Man, thou deftroy'it thy 
 lc own Work, for what were all the wonderful Things 
 rf of the Lower World made for, but his Ufe ? And 
 u if thou tak'ft him away, and none of us go to in- 
 " habit there, as to be fure we won't, then will that 
 cc pare of the Creation be to no purpofe. Again, if 
 " thou deftroy'it Man, with defign to create à new 
 ' f Race more perieùt, that will imply an Imperfectiori 
 , f in thy felf, fince People will be apt to fay, thou 
 / can'ft not bë fare of thy Hand at once trying, 
 [' which, neverthelefs, a God ought to be. Permit 
 ff then Mankind to be as they rtre, for it greatly con- 
 / cerns thy Glory to maintain what thou haft once 
 tc created. Perhaps it is not confinent with the Ho- 
 " nour of the Gocís, that Men ihould be more per- 
 ff feet than they are, for if fo, what pccafion would 
 Jlthcy have for Our Affiftance ? Thou hail given 
 l f tfcferri ttífe God PUâfiére, whom they are.fo tfrf- 
 
 Q i ■'& 
 
84 The Life and Atiiotis fart Î. 
 
 gratefully fond of, that they have forgotten thee¿ 
 tf , their Benefa¿tor ; therefore my Advice is, that 
 <c thou punifli them by the lame means they have of- 
 fended thee, that is, fend them down the Brother 
 to this Fondling God of theirs, and take him away 
 from them, whereby thou wilt foon find they will 
 ç have fecourfe to thy Mercy in their Mifery, and 
 beg of thee to free them from the Torments they 
 undergo. Thou wilt then have Revenge enough, 
 ■ and it will be wholly in thy Power to forgive or 
 <c continue their Punilhment. This, Great Jupiter ! 
 <( is what feems to me moil proper on this occafion ; 
 :c but thou that art Lord both of Heaven and Earth, 
 ,( know'it beft what is fit to be done, and therefore I 
 V iriall defift from any farther Counfel. 
 
 Here Apollo ended, when Momus, who, out of his 
 ill Will to Mankind, had waited all this while to 
 fpeak, began to aggravate their Offence ; but his Pre- 
 judice being fufficiently known, all the Affembly 
 were for what was propos'd by the God of Wifdom. 
 The Execution of this Project was committed to Mer- 
 cury, who having difplay'd his Wings, cut thro' the 
 Air in a Moment ; and defcending upon Earth, found 
 Man effectually bufied and charm'd with the God 
 ■Tleafure. He attempted immediately to carry him off 
 according to his Orders, but found fueh Refinance 
 from both Sexes, that he could not effect, it. They 
 rofe up in Arms, and feizing their beloved God, 
 vow'd rather to die than part with him. The News 
 of this Diforder foon coming to Heaven, put Jupiter 
 into a greater Paffion than before ; when Apollo, 
 who was always at hand to get -Mankind favour'd as 
 much as poflible, told the Father of the Gods, that 
 he muft once more commiferate the Blindnefs of 
 poor Mortals, and that nothing fuited io well with 
 his Divine Majefty, as Clemency and Moderation : 
 therefore, inftead of launching his- Thunder upon 
 them, as he faw he was about to do^ he need only 
 
 circum- 
 
Book I. of Guzman d 5 Alfarach¿ 85 
 
 circumvent them, by Aiding down the God Di'- 
 fatùfatfion among them, in the fhape of his Brother 
 the God Plea fur e j and then the latter might be ealüy 
 withdrawn from them without their perceiving it 
 This Stratagem was approved, and Apollo himielt u 
 dertook to put it in execution. He defcehded 
 upon Earth with the God Dijfatùfattio*, and t 
 Mankind all up in Arms, with their darling Dei 
 the midft of them, the Women holding him < 
 Tide, and the Men on the other. Apollo imm 
 dazled their Eyes with his ordinary fplén ' ; 
 
 having put the Exchange upon them, left 
 think they had ftill Pleafure amongft them, 
 it was nothing but DhTatiSfa&ion and Diu 
 Error yet continues in the World after fo ah 
 and nothing is fo common as for Men to take 
 for Pleafure, which has, indeed, but the bare Ap- 
 pearance of it. If you doubt of this, you need only 
 examine all Fcafts, Balls, Gaming-Houfes, Mufick- 
 Mectings, and the like forts of Diverfions, which 
 ftrike the Imagination moft, and you'll find there's 
 not one of them but what is accompanied with Cha- 
 grin, DhTatisfacHon, and Difcontent. You may talk 
 as much as you will of the Delights of them ; I look 
 upon that done out of Vain-Glory, for if you would 
 confefs the Truth, I don't doubt but you would own 
 you have been ill diverted, either in that another has 
 had more Refped paid him, has been more honcftly 
 dealt by, or more frflendidiy entertain'd. All the 
 Pleafures of this World are much of the fame kind, 
 raeerly outfide, and nothing rubftantial. True- Plea- 
 fure comes only from above, and thither we muil go 
 before we can enjoy it. 
 
 When this fine Expedition of mine came firft into my 
 Head, there was no Pleafure but what I fancied my 
 felf.inpoííeííionof, and whereof the bare Thou 
 did not exceedingly charm me. I fet out in the Month 
 of dprilj which, in Sfaifp is the uioíí pícaíhr,¿ oí 
 
 G X all 
 
8í The Ufe and Anions Part I, 
 
 all the Year, and which I imagin'd would always 
 laft, having no regard to the iucceeding Months of 
 May, June, July and Auguft, when a Man can hardly 
 Travel in thefe hot Countries, nor Italy, whither Í 
 had a mind to go. I fancied, whilft I was on my 
 Journey, I fhould meet with nothing but fine Rows 
 of Trees, under whofe Shade I might delightfully 
 walk. I reprefented to my felf large and fpacious 
 Roads, without the lean Inequality, and believ'd the 
 very Mountains would withdraw, either thro' Re- 
 fpect or Friendship, to give me leave to pafs the more 
 comme dioufly. I did not think I could ever be tir'd, 
 tho' I had been fo little accuftom'd to Fatigue, and 
 ïo had no Trouble on that Score. As for Eating, 
 that was the leaft of my Care ; I had read lèverai 
 Romances, and could find little or nothing of that 
 there; but in cafe I ihould have more occaiion than 
 other Knights-Errants commonly have, I thought it 
 tvould be an exquifite Pleafure to eat in Inns, where 
 Ortolans, Partridges and Pheafants, are the ordinary 
 Food. I had not much Money, 'tis true, to pay for 
 all this, but I trufted for that to my good Mien, and 
 doubted not but I mould be credited wherever I came. 
 Befides, I knew the Laws of Hofpitality requir'd, that 
 a Man mould not be fore'd to pay who had not 
 wherewithal, and who fhew'd a good Will. All this 
 made me eafy, infomuch that 1 contented my felf 
 to feed on whatever Í • met with, and believ'd it 
 the delicateft Viands that coulcf be. After I had tra- 
 yefd three Days, I began to wonder how the WorlcJ 
 came to be fo large, for I had never feen it but in a 
 Map, and fancied it not much bigger than it was 
 there reprefented. But who could have thought, faid 
 Ï to my felf, that I íhouíd have ever wanted for 
 wholeiome Food, ormet*withfo many bafe People 
 and Misfortunes as I have done in fo ihort a time ? 
 Ï did not confider it was the way of the World, and 
 that a Man had iieed have a great deal of Caution and 
 
 Pru- 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 87 
 
 Prudence that pretends to Travel. But this, 7 .:';./ 
 not confider, is a very foolifh fort of Character. It 
 is the common Excufc of fuch Fools and Blockheads 
 as I was. A Man of Scnce will always reflect upon 
 what is to come, and do all that in him lies to pre- 
 vent any ill Confequences ; and; above all, take care 
 to be on his Guard againfl Surprizes. I behaved my 
 felf like an unfledg'd Bird, that had juft venture out 
 pf its Neft - 3 God knows, I had but little Conduct, 
 and lefs Wit, yet a great deal of Vanity and Indtfcre- 
 tion. I was juftly punifli'd for my Folly, in leaving 
 my Mother's Houfe. I had a mind, like our Firíí 
 Parents, to know what Good and Evil was, and I ex- 
 periene'd them with a Vengeance, as the Sequel of 
 my Story wftl fhew. I coniider'd, that Evil was the 
 lait Thing we feek after, and yet the firft that we 
 meet with. Thus I went along mufing till we ever 
 took the good Fryars, who were mumbling over their 
 Breviaries. As for my Friend the Muleteer, he was 
 likewife employ'd in Soliloquies, for lince he Had 
 eaten fô large a Share of the Mule, you can't ima- 
 gine how melancholy he was grown. Fie was feniible 
 he had given more than ordinary occafion for Raillery, 
 by the excellent Relliih he found in the Mule's 
 Brains, and other Parts of that Animal, which he 
 had devour'd fo heartily ; but I feeing him mortified 
 enough, fpar'd him. Beíides, Prudence requires we 
 fay nothing to any Man before we confider what he 
 may anfwer, and if we are in the Rallying Humour, 
 we ihould refieel: whether we are likewife in the hu- 
 mour to be rallied. Rallying, however, is good at no 
 time ; with our Supérieurs it is Rafhnefs, with our In - 
 feriours Meannefs, and with our Equals it may be en- 
 dured, but oftentimes produces Quarrels. One Free- 
 dom occafions another : From Raillery we proceed 
 to Affronts, from Affronts to Blows ; and when we 
 are once come to thofe, we know not what may 
 come after; Belides, Jcfters generally come on" worfr^ 
 
 6 4 
 
88 The Life and Anions Parti. 
 
 andno Body pities them. This is of all Chara&ers 
 that which is ufually moft hated, and he is yet to be 
 born, that ever got or kept a Friend that way. We 
 muft behave our felves well to every Body, if we 
 have a mind any Body mould do To to us. We muft 
 not rely on our Abilities in this cafe, for when we 
 have abus'd any one that is not of equal Capacity to 
 return the Affront, he will be fure to watch his Op- 
 portunity, and make us fenfible of our Folly when 
 we lean: think of it. A Man is eafily pleas'd, and 
 eafily difpleas'd. There are a thoufand ways in Con- 
 version to oblige People, which cofl; little or no- 
 thing. If we are in the Humour to difoblige, we 
 ihall quickly make our Selves, the Town-Talk. Let 
 us conclude thefe Documents with a certain Truth, 
 that nothing is more eligible in the .Commerce of 
 Life, than an inorfenfive Behaviour towards God, 
 and towards Man. The Muleteer, as I've already 
 hinted, went (nudging along, not daring to hold up 
 his Head after the many Jeits he had pafs'd upon me 
 about my Omelet, well knowing what Returns I could 
 make if I had been difpos'd ; but I was otherwife 
 employ 'd, and thinking what Cheer we íhould meet 
 with at the next Inn. Whilft my Thoughts were 
 thus bufied, net dreaming in the leaft of another 
 Adventure, Í heard ibme Mules coming upon the 
 grand Trot behind me. I look'd back, and law two 
 Men with fierce Countenances, whom taking for 
 Highway-m r . ... I muft confcfs I was a little furpriz'd. 
 They looking earneftly at me, and feeing me in con- 
 fufion, cried out, Ah, 'Mr. Rogue, have we caught you, 
 you fhantjjo eafily efcapem now as youmay'muigtne', which 
 faying, they jump a off their Mules, and came and 
 took me by the Throat, foon dragging me to the 
 Ground, without giving me leave to make any De- 
 fence, or utter a Word. Havi;,£ me down, they 
 cried. Come, Dog, where is this Money ? Where are the 
 jewels you carried away to Day ? You mujl reftore tbern^ 
 
 anà 
 
Phi. I 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 8# 
 
 and that inftantly. I was fo ftund with the Blows they 
 had given me, that I was hardly able to fpeak ; how- 
 ever, at length recoverng my Voice, I cried out 
 as loud as I could haul, Help! Help! Murther! Mur- 
 ther ! The poor Muleteer 3 feeing me fo unmercifully 
 handled., would needs interpofe in my behalf, but to 
 his own Mi: •fortune; forgoing about to reprefent to 
 them that they muii needs be miftaken in me, they 
 turn'd about to him. and told him they believ'd he 
 was the Receiver of the Stolen Goods, and fo im- 
 mediately feiz'd both on him and his Mules, asking 
 him, as they did me, what he had done with the Mo- 
 ney and Jewels. Thcfe Queftions were as bad as 
 High-Dutch to us, for we did not underltand a Word 
 of what they meant ; and being able to make no 
 other Anfwer, than that we knew nothing of what 
 they talk'd of, they began to fall aboard us afrefh, 
 and to belabour us fo unmercifully, that I thought 
 they would have beat out our Brains. As we were 
 under this cruel Difcipline, our good Fortune would 
 have it, that two Men habited like Lawyers came by, 
 who feeing the Confiables., for fuch it feems they 
 were, laying us on fo luftily, ask'd them what they 
 beat us after that manner for. They told them, I 
 was Page to fuch a Lady, whom I had robb'd, and 
 that they had a Warrant to feize me wherever they 
 met me. You are miitaken, faid one of thefe Gen- 
 tlemen, for I ferve that Lady, and know that Page 
 very well; This is not he. F^e is about i8or 20 Years 
 of Age, and this young Man can't be above 15 or 14 : 
 Befides, he has black Hair, and this Youth Reddiih, 
 therefore you muft be under a Miftake. The Con,, 
 fiables then pull'd their Inftru&ions out of their Poc- 
 kets, and found it to be as this Gentleman had told 
 them, which mr.de them beg our Pardon, and fo re- 
 mounting their Mules, they left us without any other 
 Satisfa&ion. 'Twas pleaiant now to fee what a Fi- 
 gure the Muleteer made,* who had been fo fwingingly 
 
 bang'd 
 
go The Life and Anions Part Ï. 
 
 bangd for being in my Company. He was worfe 
 beat than I, becaufe he had the broader Shoulders. 
 As fore as I was with beating, I could hardly forbear 
 Laughing when I look'd upon him, and I believe he 
 wiih'd me at the Devil for it. For his part, poor 
 Man, Laughing was at an end with him, and he 
 could fcarce keep from Weeping. We, neverthelefs, 
 remounted our Mules, and I thank'd the Gentlemen 
 who had done us this important Service. They were 
 fo kind as to proffer to bear us Company, being all 
 going the fame Way. We foon overtook the Fryars, 
 who never itaid to fee the Fate of any of our Ad- 
 ventures, to whom, having related this laft as we had 
 before done the others, they lifted up their Hands,, 
 and blefs'd and crofs'd thenifelves in Admiration. 
 Hereupon one of the two Gentlemen faid, God 
 keep every Man from Thepe Holies that are in Spain y \ r îz. 
 The Holy Inejuifithn, the Holy Brotherhood, and the Holy 
 Crufado; but efpecially, if he be Innocent, God keep 
 him from the Holy Brotherhood, becaufe,* with the o- 
 ther two, there may be fome hopes of Juftice, they 
 being not altogether unprovided of good Judges, 
 and iuch as fear God ; but for the Holy Brotherhood^ 
 he had nothing mofe to fay, than God keep every 
 good Man out of their Hands. As for Sergeants, 
 Catchpoles, and fuch-like fort of Vermin, he faid, we 
 were to expeft nothing among them hut Rogues, 
 Villains, Thieves, Faife-WitneiTes, and the like Raf- 
 eáis, who for Money would do any thing ; but, ad- 
 ded he, let's leave this ungrateful Subjed, and pro- 
 ceed to fomething that may be more entertaining 
 and agreeable. For this purpoie, quothhe,ifyoupleafe, 
 I'll tell you a Story I read Yefterday in the Hiftory 
 of our Wars with the Moors. It is curious enough, and 
 therefore may ferve to amufe us on the Road. AU 
 the Company faid, they mould be extreamly oblig'd 
 ro him if he would give himfclf that Trouble, an<$ 
 fo he began as follows. 
 
 C H A K 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. $i 
 
 CHAR VIII. 
 The Amour of Ozmin and Daraxa. A Novel. 
 
 WHilft the CatholickKing and Queen of Spain. 
 Ferdinand and If ab ell a, were at the Siege of 
 Baza, there happen'd many ConfliAs and Skirmiihes 
 pn both Sides, in which it was hard to tell whether 
 {iad the better. . It was not but their Catholick Ma- 
 jefties were well ferv'd by brave Officers, and a great 
 Number of good Troops, but the Moors were like- 
 wife well skill d in Arms, and, perhaps, not lefs than 
 the Chriftians, io that they defended themfelves cou- 
 ragiouily, and omitted nothing that might make the 
 Siege lait. The Place was in a good Condition, 
 and had a very advantagious Situation : The Garifon 
 was compos'd of the choiceft Troops the King of 
 Çranada had, and the Governor was a Man of Ex- 
 perience and great Valour j fo that all thefe together 
 were able to ballance the Bravery and Numbers of 
 the Chriftians. The Queen was at Jaen } where me 
 took Care to fupply the Army with Provilionsj and 
 the King commanded the Siege in Perfon. He had 
 divided his Army into two Bodies, whereof one lay 
 before the Town, and the other cover'd the Siege, 
 and hindered the coming of Succours. The Mar- 
 (jueíTes of Cadiz, and Aguiiar, Don Lewis Fernandez. 
 Portocarero, and the Commendadors of the Orders of 
 Alcantara and Calatrava, with divers brave Officers 
 and Soldiers, were in the former; and in the latter lay 
 encamp'd the King with the chief of the Nobility 
 and Gentry, and the moft experiene'd Men at Arms. 
 The two Camps were at leait half a League'afunder, 
 (p ta,ke them directly, but as the Moors had ftop'd 
 
 ut> 
 
pi The Life and ASI ions Fart L 
 
 up the PaiTes, they were above a League, fo that 
 the Chriftians were forc'd to draw Lines and Tren- 
 ches along the foot of the Mountains to keep up 
 the Communication. This made the King refolve to 
 build Forts and Redouhts, as well to favour that Work,, 
 as to check the furious and frequent Sallies of the Be- 
 fieg'd. Upon this, great Numbers of Men were em- 
 ploy'd, and the King would often go in Perfon to 
 fee how they advanc'd. Tho' the Moors did all they 
 could to hinder this Defign, yet the Works went on, 
 the Chriftians valiantly defending what they had un-' 
 dertaken, tho' with the Lofs of many of their Lives, 
 for fcarce a Day happen'd wherein there were not 
 great Numbers kill'd and wounded on both fides. 
 As it was a Matter of the greateft Importance, the 
 King always took Care it ihould be follow'd both by 
 Night and Day, and that the Workmen mould have 
 a good Body of Troops to cover them. One Day, 
 as Don Rodrigo, Don Hurtado de Mendoza, the Go- 
 vernor of Cazorla, and Don Sancho de CafiiUa^ were 
 upon the Guard, his Majefty fent them Word they 
 Ihould take Care of themfelves, for that he had re- 
 ceiv'd certain Intelligence, that the Moors would make 
 a terrible Sally fuch a time, and therefore he had dif- 
 patch'd the Counts of Cabra and Urena, with the Mar- 
 quefs of Aftorgas, to fupport them in Cafe of Neceflity* 
 As he faid, io it happen'd ; for the Moors, who were 
 not lefs concern din the interrupting this Work, than 
 the Chriftians were in perfecting it, feeing them go 
 on fo profperouily, march'd out of the Town one 
 Night in great filence, with 2000 Foot and 6000 
 Horfe to fecure their Retreat, and climbing up the 
 Mountain, pour'd down at Day-break on Don Ro- 
 drigo and Don Hurtado de Mendoza, who did not ex- 
 pect them, tho' they had been advertiz'd of their 
 coming ; and who, without the timely Afliftance of 
 the Govepnor and Don Sancho, who both came in to 
 their Aid, had been affuredly cut to Theie 
 
 • ' laft 
 
Book I. of Güzman cPAlfarache. 5*3 
 
 laft, whom the Moors believ'd to have had a greater 
 Number with them than they had, becaufe they came 
 from behind the Mountain and made a grtat Show, 
 coming in freih, reftor'd the Battle a little, and gave 
 time to Don Rodrigo P. rid Mendoza s Men to take 
 Breath. Nevertheleis the Moors, who had been fome- 
 what put to a ftand, feeing thefe Succours not fo 
 coniiderable as they at firft imagin'd, and being wil- 
 ting to end this Matter at a Blow, lince ío fair 
 an Opportunity was offered them, prefs'd on in 
 fuch manner, that the Chriftians had been but rudely 
 dealt by, had not their King come feafonably to their 
 Relief. He had no fooner been informd of this At- 
 tack, and that Don Rodrigo was wounded, but he 
 could not be withheld from flying to his Afîîftance, 
 for mounting immediately on Horfe-back with all his 
 brave Men, he came juft in the nick as the Chriftians 
 were about to run. It was then the Courage and 
 Conduce of this brave Prince appear'd, for he not 
 only fought like a General, but ventur'd his Perfon 
 like a Private Soldier ; infomuch, that there was noc 
 one about him but would have willingly died in his 
 Service, fo much the Perfonal Valour ot their King 
 had animated and exalted them. Now were noble Feats 
 of Arms to be leen, fomany Moors and Chriftians fight- 
 ing like fo many Lions; but as the latter were re- 
 lieve from time to time by freih Troops, the former 
 were at laft fore'd to give Ground. They had, 'tis 
 true, a Detachment fent them from the Town to fa- 
 vour their Retreat ; but the Chriftians, animated by 
 the Prefence of their King, pufh'd them fo vigo- 
 roufly, that, notwithftading their Reinforcement, 
 they were oblig'd to take a direét Flight. The Chri- 
 ftians purfuing them with incredible Fury, not only 
 made vaft havock among them, but likewife entered 
 with diem Pell-mell into the Suburbs of Baza, which, 
 tho' a Place of Defence, had no time to fhut its 
 Gates. Here they got great Booty, and took abun- 
 dance 
 
j4 The Life and Aftions Part I, 
 
 dance of Prifoners. The King, confidering whither 
 their Fury had carried them, caus'd a Retreat to be 
 founded;, and at the fame time commanded a coniide- 
 rable Body of Troops to move towards them,, to pre- 
 vent their being cut off by a frefh Sally from the 
 Town, which they had moit certainly been, had not 
 the Governor found his Gariion too weak for that 
 purpofe. On the contrary, he judg'd it Prudence 
 not to expofe the Town to the fame. Accident that 
 had befallen the Suburbs, and therefore contented 
 himfelf with firing from the Walls on thofe Troops,- 
 that they might not make a Lodgment. He alfo 
 fhew'd, upon this Occafion, that the Glory and Ser- 
 vice of his King and Country was dearer to him than 
 his own Blood ; for when it was told him, his 
 Daughter had a little before gone to the Suburbs, and 
 that twas to be fear'd me was taken by the Chriftians, 
 his Aniwer was, He had rather his Daughter foould be ta- 
 ken, than a Fortrefs, which the King his Mafter had con- 
 fided to him, be loft, and fo would not fuffer the Gates 
 to be open'd for any Body to go to her Relief. She 
 was indeed among the number of the Prifoners, but 
 'twas her good Fortune to fall into the Hands of á 
 young Nobleman, one Don AÎonfo de Zuniga, to 
 whom íhe was rather a Miftrefs than a Prifoner. 
 He was about 18 or 19 Years of Age,, and this was 
 the firft Campaign he had made. He was beauti* 
 fill in Perfon, and aimable in Temper, and, in à 
 Word, was as compleat a Gentleman as the Catho- 
 lick Court had bred for a long while. He was full 
 of Glory, and being greatly efteem'd by his Prince,' 
 took Care to deferve it on all Occafions where there 
 was the greateil Danger, efpecially in this, where he 
 enter'd the Suburbs with the foremoii of the Troops,- 
 and cut down all he met, till he arriv'd at á Houiè, 
 which feem'd altogether built for Pleafure., and 
 which, indeed, belong'd to the Governor, He was 
 refolv'd to know what it was, and therefore imrne- 
 
 cristel/ 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarachc p§ 
 
 diately commanded his Soldiers to force open the 
 Doors., which they Toon did with Battle-Axes. At 
 their Entrance they found 10 or 12 Men ready 
 to difpute the Pafs with them, but 8 of them being 
 laid on "their Backs, the reft fled and fav'd themielves 
 over the Walls of the Garden. This Houfe was ex- 
 ceeding fplendidly furnifh'd, and the Soldiers fell im- 
 mediately to plundering it; but Don Alcjifo, who had 
 no other Aim than Glory, contented himfelf with 
 running about With his" Sword in his Hand, to fee if 
 he could find any Body to refift him, but met with 
 no Body. At length, coming to an Appartment that 
 by the Richnefs of its Furniture feem'd the molt 
 confiderable in the Houfe, he found one Door {hut, 
 which, commanding ^ or 6 of his Followers to break 
 down, they met with fome Difficulty, it being barri- 
 cado'd behind. This gave Don Alonfo reafon to fup- 
 pofe ifcmebody was retir'd thither; but, upon forcing 
 his way, he found nobody. Penetrating farther, 
 even to the inmoft Room, and going about to break 
 down another Door that was Hkewife lock'd, he heard 
 from within a great Skriek, as of Women. Entring, 
 he faw five, whereof four fell tremblihg on their 
 Knees, all bath'd in Tears, and beg'd their Lives ¿ 
 while the Fifth, who by her Habit and Majeftick 
 Mien, feem'd Miftrefs of the reft, itood firm, with 
 her Back againft a Window, and a Ponyard in her 
 Hand. Her Countenance was fierce and bold, tho* 
 pale and wan ; and upon Alonfo s approaching her, 
 ihe told him in good Ca¡tilUan 3 fhewing him the Pon- 
 yard, that 'twas with that ilie would guard her Ho- 
 nour againft any one that íhculd be fo iniblent as 
 to touch her. Don Alonfo , who had hitherto felt 
 none of thole Paillons that young People of his Age 
 are wont to have for Women, found neverthelefs he 
 could not always efcape them, but fooner or later he 
 ihould be drawn into the common Snare with the 
 felt of Mankind. He had, 'tis true, altogether re- 
 
 ferv'd 
 
i $4 The Life and ARÏùnï Fart L 
 
 ferv'd himfclf till now for the Glory of Arms • but, 
 upon the Sight of this lovely Moor, could no longer 
 keep to his Refolution. He no fooner caft his Eyes 
 upon her, who was indeed one of the moil beauti- 
 ful Ladies of the Kingdom of Granada, but he felt 
 his Heart wounded in all the Places where it was vul- 
 nerable. He immediately pull'd off his Helmet, and 
 put up his Sword, when approaching her with all the 
 Refpect. and Mildneis imaginable, he told her, 'Twas 
 not for fuch charming Ladies as fhe to apprehend any 
 Violence from one who had made Glory and Honour 
 his Profeffion ; that he was extreamly concerned he 
 had invaded her Privacies, but at the fame time, 
 could not but believe his good Fortune had conducted 
 him to her Appartment, to fecure her from all future 
 Outrages ; he beg'd her therefore to make ufe of this 
 Opportunity, and not to itay till the. Fury of the Sol- 
 diers, who hardjy diftinguifh any Body upon*thefe 
 Occafions, might .put it out of his Pov/er to do her 
 that Service he deiir'd. This faid, he proffcr'd her 
 his Hand to conduct her out of the Houfe, and at thé 
 fame time order'd his Followers to take Care of the 
 other Women, and let them carry away. with them 
 whatever they thought proper for their Ladies uie. 
 Daraxa, for fo Was this beautiful Moor, who was 
 Daughter to the Governor, call'd, being itill under 
 Concern for the Danger fhe had been expos'd to,- 
 was not eafily got out of it, till at length, looking up, 
 and feeing nothing in her young Officer that might 
 occafion her Difquiet, fhe began to take Courage, 
 and efteem her felf not a little happy in falling into 
 his Hands. Neverthelefs, when ihe reflected on her 
 becoming Captive to the Enemy of her Law* fhe 
 could not refrain from Tears ; infomuch, that not be- 
 ing able to anfwer the generous Proffers of her Ca- 
 valier any otherwife, me only gave him her Hand; 
 and fuffer'd him to lead her whither he pleas'd. Dori 
 AlonCo, rnov'd by the Tears of his fair Prifoiicr, did 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfaraehe. $j 
 
 all he could to comfort her, and flie, truly fenfible oí 
 his Civilities, made what Acknowledgments flic could, 
 but that rather by Geftures than Words. 
 
 As he was about to lead her out of the Room, 
 News was brought the King had caus'd a Retreat to 
 be founded, which oblig'd him immediately to take 
 Horfc. He gave his own Steed to his fair Captive ; 
 and going to help her up, foon found ihe had no 
 Occaiion for any Afliftance of that kind. He quick- 
 ly difcover'd íhe underftood the Manage as well as 
 any Body ; for her Father, who was perhaps one of 
 the fineíí Horfeinen in all the Kingdom of Granada^ 
 had taken Care to have her inftru&cd betimes in 
 that Art • and her Genius lying much that way, it 
 was not difficult for him to bring his Defign about, 
 for ihe took that fort of Learning as fail as it was 
 given her, and in time became an abfolute Horfe- 
 woman. Don Alorifo having gather'd together as 
 many of his Soldiers as he could,( for you muir imaginó 
 they were not a little intent upon Plunder,) he drew 
 them up into a fmall Body ; and having planted his 
 Beautiful Moor y and her four Women, in the midit 
 óf them, march'd at the Head of them towards the 
 King's Army, which then began to be in Motion. 
 
 The King, who, weary'd with the Fatigue of the 
 Day, had retir'd to fome neighbouring Shades to re- 
 freía himfelf, was juft about to remount, when News 
 came that Don Alonfo was bringing the Governour s 
 Daughter Prifoner to prefent to him. His Majefty 
 began to Laugh, and was more than ordinary defi- 
 rous of feeing fo fine a Sight, being greatly de* 
 lighted with fuch ■ fort of Gallantries. Don Alonfo 
 approaching, and perceiving a great number of the 
 beft Quality gather'd together, did not doubt but 
 his Majefty was among them ; wherefore alighting, 
 and defiring the fair Moor to do the like, he took 
 her by the Hand, and conducted her into the King's 
 Prefence. His Majefty, not a little iurpriz/d to lee 
 
 H fo 
 
 M 
 
$8 The lije and Afîicns Part I. 
 
 fo beautiful a Lady, arofe, and went fome few Steps 
 to meet her; when me, who knew well what Refped 
 was due to a Sovereign, would prefently have fal- 
 len on her Knees, but the King would not fuffer 
 her. " My Lord, faid ihe, I could heartily have 
 " wiih'd for a lefs difaftrous Occafion to have falu- 
 rc ted your Majefty, but Fate has ordered it other- 
 * wife, and I am oblig'd for this Happinefs to the 
 " greateft Misfortune that could befal me. King 
 Ferdinand, who was a Prince of a great deal of 
 Wit, and, when he pleas'd, a great deal of good 
 Humour, did all he could to Comfort her, telling, 
 her, he could forgive her calling the ftrft day of her 
 becoming a Priioner, a Misfortune ; but faid, he 
 did not queftion but ihe would find her felf fo well 
 treated and entertain'd for the future, that ihe would 
 have no manner of Occafion to account her felf 
 Unfortunate. His Majeñy then took Horfe to re- 
 turn to the Camp, after having bid Don Alonfo 
 (fmiling) take care of his fair Priioner, and wait on 
 her to the Army, where he faid he would have á 
 Tent provided for her and her Women ; and after a 
 little time fend her to the Queen, by whom ihe 
 mould be cheriñYd as ihe deferv'd. 
 
 Being arriv'd at the Camp, which was but a little 
 diftant, the King gave Dar axa leave to write to 
 her Father, and deftrd her to aífure him from him, 
 that ihe mould be treated with all the Refpecl: due 
 to her Birth and Quality. Thofe Officers that firft fa w 
 this beautiful Moor, having cry'dherup for a Wonder, 
 it excited the Curiofity of others to fee her likewife, 
 among whom many were not contented with a bare 
 View; ib that Don Alonfo s Tent, whither fhe was 
 at firft conducted, became fo crowded, that he was 
 very uneafie at it, if not apprehenfive of a Rival, 
 which made him Vow that no Body ihould fee her 
 for the future, no not his deareft Friends. This- 
 pccafion'd -Mm abundance of Importunity, which 
 
 never- 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. '99 
 
 neverthelefs he delivered himfelf from next morning 
 betimes, before any of the Officers were ftirring, 
 by concluding his fair Captive to . Jam, where he 
 prefented her to the Queen by the King's Orden. 
 Her Majefty had been inform'd of her coming by a 
 Courier from the King, and therefore was prepara to 
 receive her with all the Kindnefs imaginable, as well 
 in refpecl: to her Birth, being, as me underftood, 
 defcended from the Kings of Granada, as in regard 
 to her Perfonal Merit, and other good Qualities. 
 The King had recommended her to her as a Prifoner 
 of Confequence, and ihe found her to be fuch, be- 
 lieving by her means the Governor might be wrought 
 upon to furrender the City « and fo ihe wrote to the 
 King, but his Majefty acquainted her ihe knew not 
 the Character of the Man, for Nature would not 
 be able to prevail upon him, where his Duty came 
 in Queftion. 
 
 The Queen, who was at firft fight extreamly de^ 
 lighted with this charming Moor, whofe Eyes, íhe 
 faid, fparkled like fo many Diamonds, was yet more 
 ravihYd when fhe came to Tafte of her Conven- 
 tion ; for her Wit was the Source of that Fire and 
 Brillant that appear'd in her Eyes, and which her 
 Majefty foon fufficiently experienced. In the mean 
 time, Don Alonfo having perform'd his Commiffion, 
 and being oblig'd to return to the Army, beg2n ta 
 be fenfible, that Love, like all Things elfe, had its 
 wrong and its right fide, and that nothing perma- 
 nent was to be expe&ed from that God, who, when- 
 ever he did a Favour, made us pay through the Nofe 
 for't. He experienc'd that this Deity began with 
 Charms and Delights, but always ended with Grief 
 and Tears. He knew not hitherto what Love was, 
 and was fo pleas'd with that little he had felt of it, 
 that he could wiíh it might have for ever lafted j 
 but he foon recover'd from his Error, when he found 
 he was to part with his belov'd Moer, He had 
 
 H % ao? 
 
ïoo The Life an J Avions Parti. 
 
 not yet undergone any Agonies and Uneafineííes 
 that belong to that Paffion, and was not a little 
 lurprizd when he found himfelf all of a fudden 
 feiz'd with them. Thefe attacked him the Night 
 before he was to go to the Army. He could not be- 
 lieve that Love could fo fuddenly reduce him to 
 fuch a Condition, or that his Affection had made fo 
 great a Progreis as to occaiion him the Lofs of his 
 Quiet, by being to lofe the fight of his amiable 
 Miftrels. But what moft afflicted him was, that he 
 liad not vet difcover'd his Paiïion to his lovely 
 Charmer. It was not but he had had Opportunities 
 .enough, and thofe as favourable as could be wiih'd ; 
 but whether he wanted Courage, which the braveft 
 in Love-cafes fometimes want, or, whether he was 
 toó much a Novice in this Art, he never thought 
 lit to explain his Sentiments by Words, but left 
 them to be altogether guefs'd at by his Actions. 
 Neverthelefs,. as he had read a great many Romances, 
 and learn d from them that Lovers were to fpeak, 
 and thereby difcover their Thoughts to their Mi- 
 flreifes, he fear d Daraxa might have an ill Opi^ 
 nion of him if he left her without fo doing. There- 
 fore he refolv'd to acquit himfelf of this Duty, and 
 fpent all the Night in contriving after what man- 
 ner he mould do it. He confidered all Ways, and 
 hardly any would pleafe him ; till at length finding 
 no other Remedy, and the Sun beginning to peep 
 in upon him, he was fain to abandon himfelf entirely 
 to Love, that his Deity might infpire him upon this 
 emergent Occaiion with what was moft proper to 
 move a A-liftrefs, whom no Body could dote upon 
 more Pailionately and Sincerely than he did. This 
 being refolv'd on, he gets up and dreifes himfdf, 
 and goes to the Queen to receive her Majefty's laíl 
 Commands, and at the fame time begs Permiflîon 
 to take Leave of the beautiful Moer. The Quten 
 was fenfible, a young Lord, like Don Alor.fc, could 
 
 not 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. i o i 
 
 not be two Hours alone with a young Lady like 
 Daraxa without Love's playing his Part: Nevertheleis, 
 having a mind to rally, jfhe told him, nothing was 
 more reafonable than what he demanded ; but iince 
 the young Lady was under her Charge, if he had a 
 mind to fay any thing to her, it mull be in her Pre- 
 fence. This embarais'd Don Ahnfo more than before, 
 for now he faw plainly his Meafures were broken, 
 yet did not defpair, but refolv'd to bring- the Mat- 
 ter about one way or other. The Queen having 
 lent for Daraxa y fhe no fooncr appeared but her M;i- 
 jefty began to fmile, laying to her, See here, Daugh- 
 ter, (for fo ihe began to call her) a voung Lord, that 
 is more to be pitied, and more a Prifoner, than thou 
 art. lie can t depart, nor go for the Army, till he has 
 taken his final Leave of thee. I am his Friend, con- 
 tinue the Queen, and know well he will not make 
 a Miftery of his Paiîîon to me, therefore defire what 
 he fays to thee may be in my Hearing. This Dif- 
 courfe made the pretty Moor bluih ; (he had obferv'd, 
 indeed, in the Countenance and Actions of Don Alon- 
 fo fomething more than ordinary, but never thought 
 it amounted to Love. Befides, íhe was fo taken up with 
 the Thoughts of her Misfortunes, that (lie had no Time 
 to refieót on any thing elle; and what Kindnefs ihe 
 was oblig'd to that young Lord for, fhe believ'd was 
 more owing to his generous Commileration of her 
 Condition, than any Affection he liad to her Peribn. 
 Her Heart was already prepoflefs'd in favour of ano- 
 ther, therefore fhe could make no Returns, in c:\fe 
 Don Alcnfo did love her ; however, fhe thought her 
 felt oblig'd to make a Reply to the Queen, and con- 
 fequently told her Majeity, fhe was extreamly en- 
 gag'd to that youhg Nobleman, in cafe he had any 
 Reiped for her, and ihould not cafily forget the 
 Obligation; but as it was not in her Power to make 
 any farther Acknowledgment, fiie hop'd he would be 
 contented with her praying for him. and vvifliing hint 
 
 H ? no 
 
i o 2 The Life and AU ions Part I. 
 
 no worfe Fortune than fhe had had, providing it íhould 
 be his ill hap to be taken Prifoner as Ihe was. The 
 Queen made no Anfwer, on purpofe to give Don A- 
 hnfo opportunity to fpeak ; who, tho' he had natural- 
 ly a great deal of Courage, and was known to make 
 quick Repartees on all Occafions, was, neverthelefs, 
 iomething at a ftand here, either becaufe he felt too 
 violent Emotions of Love, or was afraid to deliver 
 himfelf too freely in the Queen's Prefence. He 
 therefore contented himfelf to reply only to the fair 
 T>araxa, That whatever Miihaps could befall him, he 
 íhould always think himfelf happy to bear the Cha- 
 ra&er of her Champion, and which was an Honour 
 he intended to ask before he left her. The Queen 
 replied, That was an Honour was feldom or never 
 refus'd ; and having a mind to keep up the Conver- 
 fation and Intereit her felf for Don Alonfo, as much 
 as poffible, ihe added, And I believe Daraxa will be 
 able to give no Reafon for refufing it. J would glad- 
 ly to be fure, Madam, replied Daraxa, have fo great 
 an Honour as Don Alonfo for my Champion ; but if 
 the Laws of Arms are the fame among Chriftians 
 as with us, I can't fee how I can accept of one in that 
 Poit, who is concern'd in a prefent War againft my 
 King, my Father, and my Country. What you fay 
 feems to have fome weight'in it, anfwer'd the Queen, 
 fcut this is a particular Cafe, and you may certainly 
 íhew Refpe£ to one Perfon, tho' your Enemy, with- 
 out injuring your whole Country ; and as for the King 
 and your Father, they need not in fuch Cafe be of- 
 fended at it. Don Ahvfo thought himfelf extreamly 
 oblig'd to the Queen for fpeaking fo earneftly in his 
 behalf, and whilft he was about to make his Acknow- 
 ledgments, her Majefty went on, an'd faid, Tho' Da- 
 . taxa íhould only engage him by this Favour to ufe 
 the Moors, that might be taken Prifoners, more kind- 
 ly, that would be a fufficient Recompence for the 
 ;uppos'd Injury Ihe might do her Country by it ; but 
 
 ihe 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarachc. 105 
 
 íhefaid, íhe believ'd Í6 ingenious a young Lady could 
 have no Reafons to induce her to a Thing that muir 
 needs be for her Advantage., and that her feeming to 
 be fo much againft it, was only out of pure Modefty. 
 She added, if íhe lay under any further Difficulties 
 or Scruples, that* hinder'd her from complying with 
 this reafonable Requeft of Don Alovfos, the bare O- 
 bligations me had to that young Lord, were moro 
 than a fufficient Excufe for her. 
 
 What Reafons foever Daraxa might have not to 
 yield to thofe of the Queen, íhe thought it more ad- 
 vifable to be filent, than perfift in them, fince Silence 
 might imply her Conlent to what was dehYd of her. 
 But as this was not enough of it felf, the Queen, 
 who had a mind to finilh the Matter, told the Mwrifli 
 Lady, It was a Cuftom among Chriftians, that when 
 any Woman took a Man for her Champion, file 
 mult give him fome Token or other of her good 
 Will, which was commonly a Scarf, her Picture, a 
 Handkerchief, a Ribbon, or fome fuch-like Thing. 
 Thi$ was likewife a Cuftom among the Moors, who 
 were at that time a gallant People, and icorn'd to 
 yield in Matters of Gallantry to any Nation whatfo- 
 ever. But Daraxa fear'd the Conlequences of this 
 Civility, and therefore declin d at nrft the doing it ; 
 however, as the Delires of the Queen muft now be 
 Laws to her, íhe could not difpence with them, and 
 confequently was oblig'd to give ibmething or other. 
 She thought a Ribbon would be the lead íhe could 
 give, therefore taking off a TiiTue-Knot from her 
 Head, íhe made a Prefent of it to Don Monfo. That 
 Lord receiv'd it with all the Ceremony that I. overs 
 of that Time were wont to pay towards their Mi- 
 ftreíTes, that is, with bended Knees; and kiffing her 
 Hand a thoufand times, he ivvore eternal Constancy 
 and Obedience to her Commands. The Queen, who 
 was exceedingly pleas'd with this Scene which íhe 
 had brought about, told Don Ato&i there would ipee- 
 
 II 4 dily 
 
Ï04 The Ufe and Anions Part L 
 
 dily be expected fuch Feats of Arms from him, as 
 could not but be the Produ&s of fo great a Favour 
 as he hadreceiv'd; to which he readily replied, That 
 if Fortune would but furniíh h-m with Opportunities, 
 it ihould be his Fault if he did not perform all that 
 was requird of him. Now perceiving it was time to 
 be gone^, he humbly took his Leave of the Queen, 
 and afterwards turning to the fair Moor, beg'd of her 
 fo remember him fometimes, and fo went for the 
 Army. 
 
 if ever Prifoner had Reafon to be pleas'd with 
 Confinement, Dar axa had, fince ihe could not have 
 been better treated, even at the Court of her 
 own King, than ihe was at this of their Catholick 
 Majefties, where ihe was look'd upon not as a Pri- 
 foner, but a Lady, whom the Queen highly refpec~t- 
 ed. Over and above her charming Perfon, her Ma- 
 jefty difcover'd in her a more charming Soul, with a 
 Witfo much to her liking, that ihe could not endure to 
 be without her. She would frequently entertain her felf 
 with her about Poli tiques and State-Matters, of which 
 ihe gave as good an Account, as if ihe had been bred 
 to them as many Years as ihe was old, which were a- 
 fcout Eighteen. She, in a Word, took fo great a 
 Fancy fo heF, that altho' there was foon after an In- 
 terview between King Ferdinand and King Mahomet y 
 Sirnam'd d Qhi^uite^ i. e. the Little ; and altho' the 
 Town of Baza had furrendef d, and, that one of the 
 Articles was, That all the Priibners fhould be reftor'd 
 on both fides ; notwithftanding all this, I fay, her 
 Majefty had fo fix'd her Heart on the fair Daraxa 3 
 that ihe could never prevail on her. felf to part with 
 her, but, to fatisfy her Father, virote to him with 
 preiHng Inítañces, that ihe migíbcontinue with her, 
 and ihe would do all for her, that ihe f eculd for her own 
 Daughter. The Governor, tho' much griev'd for the lois 
 of his Dear Daraxa, yet, confidering what Advantage 
 jjt might be to her to be Favourite tp fo great a Queen, 
 
 gave 
 
 , 
 
Book I. of Guzman d' Alfar ache. 1 5 
 
 gave his Confent, tho' with Regret, and was con- 
 tented íhe ihould go whither Queen Jfabella pleas'd. 
 
 The Campaign thus ended, the King refolv'd to 
 go and pafs the Winter at Sevil 4 and accordingly 
 wrote to the Queen. The Court was very numerous, 
 and never known to be more magnificent. Don A- 
 lonfo had performed a World of fine Anions fince the 
 Prefent he had receiv'd, and was become more in 
 Love than ever. As he was one of the ricbeil Lords 
 of the Courts he could beft afford Expence, and 
 therefore ipar'd nothing that might make his Equi- 
 page and Train fplendid. Nothing could be more 
 rich, nothing more gallant. As for Daraxa, he had 
 itill the fame value for her, tho' he heard of Rivals; 
 neverthelefs, underílood íhe gave them no Encou- 
 ragement. He found, at his Return, her Rcfpect 
 was not in the leaft leiTen'd for hjm, but then it was 
 not encreas'd, for the fame cold Icy Heart remain'd 
 ilill, which was enough to chii even the moil flaming 
 Lover. This Advantage, however, he had over his 
 Rivals, That he bore the glorious Character of her 
 Champion,; and had the TifTue-Ribbon waving in his 
 Hat, giving himfelf the Title of the Champion to the 
 fair Moor. But all this fignifted little, fince like them 
 he was treated with the fame Indifference. He had 
 only greater Liberty to fee and converfe with his Mi- 
 itrefs^ and 'twas to the Queen heow'd that Happineis, 
 who, thinking to retain Daraxa the furerat her Court, 
 had a mind to make her a Chriftian, and marry her. 
 She thought Don Alonfo the moil advantagious Match 
 for her, and that made her look the more favourably 
 on him. She alfo believ'd nothing could work fo great 
 a Change in her as Love, therefore íhe did all íhe 
 could to promote that. She only wonder'd at one 
 Thing ; that whereas other Mocrifi Ladies were more 
 than ordinarily fubject to that Paflion, Daraxa was 
 very little fenfible of it, notwithilanding the many Ad- 
 drcifesweremadetohcr bv almoft all the young Lords 
 
 of 
 
îq6 The Life and Anions Part 1 
 
 of the Court. As for Religion, íhe often took occa- 
 sion to Difcourfe her on that Head, but could not 
 find ihe was yet difpos'd to exchange hers for a bet- 
 ter ; therefore ihe left that Affair to Heaven, and 
 contented her felf for the prefent to give her good 
 Advice, and a good Example, which ihe was very 
 capable of doing, as being a moil Pious and Wile 
 Princefs. In the mean time, as fhe knew the Moors 
 had more than ordinary Regard to their Habit, 
 which they made a part of their Religion, ihe us'd 
 her beft Endeavours to make her change that for a 
 Stanifi one, hoping by that means to draw her infen- 
 fitly on to the Salvation of her Soul, which was 
 y/hat ihe moil defir'd. In order to this, ihe broke 
 the Thing to her one Day, and told her, She would 
 extreamly oblige her, in Cafe ihe would comply with 
 her Requeft, for that ihe had a mind to fee what an 
 Alteration a Spanijh Habit would caufe in her Beauty. 
 Daraxa had long defir'd what the Queen propos'd to 
 her, notwithstanding the Injun&ions of her Religion 
 to the contrary ; therefore was not backward to com- 
 ply with her Majefty, but rather overjoy'd that fuch a 
 .Thing had been offer'd her. Accordingly ihe imme- 
 diately confented,' and Orders were given to the Wo- 
 men to drefs her forthwith in the Spanijh Garb, but 
 not to fay a Word of it to any Body, becaufe the 
 Queen would have the Pleafure of iurprizing the 
 Court, and the King himfelf. She appear'd there 
 with great Luftre and Magnificence ; her Dreis being 
 one of the richeft that this Princefs had ever worn ; 
 and the Beauty and good Mien of Daraxa gave a 
 ihining Addition to it. She was not long without be- 
 ing diflinguifh'd. Her Charms made her remark'd, 
 in a particular manner, beyond all others ; and 
 there were few but freely own'd, ihe far excelled the 
 red ; tho' among the Maids of Honour, and other 
 Court-Ladies, there were many perfe&Jy beautiful. 
 She was the occafion of a World of Infidelities, and 
 
 yet 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. J07 
 
 yet more Jealoufies ; and her being but too agreeable 
 to the Men, render'd her almoft odious to the Wo- 
 men. They found infinite Faults in her, and could 
 by no Means agree to the merit of her Beauty'. But 
 what moll deeply touch'd them was, the little Care 
 they faw {he took of her felf, and her Indifference 
 for appearing handfome ; tho' that be the reigning 
 Paííion of Womankind. She almoft intirely neg- 
 lected Drefs and Ornaments; and it was only to 
 pleafe the Queen, that fhe fometimes took a little 
 Care of her felf. This Princefs, who faw fhe was 
 extreamly thoughtful and melancholy, and was per- 
 fwaded it was an eiFed of her fecret Grief, for being 
 in a ftrange Country, and remote from her Friends, 
 was of Opinion, that in giving her abundance of 
 Ornaments, and variety of Dreís, the dear Delight 
 and Weaknefs of Women, fhe might be diverted by 
 it, and brought to take more Pieafure in her felf: 
 Arid in this Thought, the Queen was every Day heap- 
 ing Prefents of Drefs and Ornaments upon her ; but 
 it made no manner of Change in her. She drefs'd her 
 felf once or twice with what the Queen gave her, 
 looking on her felf as oblig'd to do fo in Duty and 
 Gratitude j but after that ihe laid them by, and 
 thought no more of them. Her Humour was always the 
 fame ; a fort of languiihing ; and 'twas perceiv'd fhe 
 fought to be retired, and that nothing diverted her : 
 Nay, the Queen was feveral times told, fhe had been 
 often furpriz'd in Tears. This Princefs, who intirely 
 lov'd her, was much afflicted at it j but with all her 
 Endeavours to difcover the Rcafon of it, ihe was ne- 
 ver able to get it out of her ; fhe was however in 
 hopes, that Time, which is always the certain Cure 
 of every Çare, would at laft diiîîpate the Troubles of 
 the beautiful Moor, in fo agreeable a Court as that of 
 Spain. But in the mean time, to contribute towards 
 diverting the lovely Captive, and likewife to pleafe 
 and entertain, at the fame time, fo many brave Offi- 
 cers, 
 
i o 8 The Life and Afîiotis Part I. 
 
 cers as then throng'd the Court, and had ib well be- 
 hav'd themfelves during the Campaign ; the Queen 
 propofes to the King, her Husband, to permit a So- 
 lemn Bull-fight, and the Sports of Cafias, or CarrOu- 
 fek 3nd Turnements, as in fome Places they call 'em. 
 Ferdinand confents, and the Queen prefently gave 
 publick Notice of 'em at Court, that fuch as had a 
 mind might prepare for 'em. 
 
 The Grief and Melancholy of the lovely Moor 
 were of that fort, that far from being leifen'd by 
 Honours, Pleafures and Divertifements, they were 
 augmented by em. She was in Love • and with a 
 Mobleman altogether worthy of her ; from whom 
 ihe had been forc'd away, juft as the Preparations for 
 their Marriage were in a manner compleated. Fatal 
 Reverfe! inftead of theHappinefs ihe thought fo near. 
 This Favourite Lover of hers, was a young Lord of 
 Granada, whofe Merit and Valour had been diftin- 
 guifh'd upon feveral Occalions ; who defcended from 
 Kings as well as ihe ; and who, for the Perfections of 
 his Perfon, as well as for the Qualifications of his 
 Mind,and the Excellence of his Wit, might vye with 
 the moft accompliih'd in the Court of the King of 
 Granada. They were acquainted from their very In- 
 fancy ; and the Friendship between their Fathers, 
 gave them frequent opportunities of Converfation^ fo 
 that this Love of theirs was not of a few Years only, 
 but as old as their Reafon, and born with it. But 
 when Daraxa was grown up to that Age and Stature, 
 that requir'd a ítriéter Care over her Perfon and Con- 
 duel:, and forbids all eafy Accefs to her ; 'twas then 
 that thefe two young Hearts began to feel the firft 
 violent emotions of Love, and to find the uneafinefs 
 of being depriv'd of the Pleafure of feeing what we 
 moil tenderly afFeci. But happily for our young Lo- 
 vers, their Fathers, who continu'd their old intimate 
 Friendfhip, and were of Opinion, that their Children 
 could no where better match than with, each other, 
 
 re- 
 
Book I. of Guzfoan d'Alfaráche; i op 
 
 refolvd to knit the Knot of their Amity more dole 
 and firm by this Alliance. The Contradi yvas made, 
 and the Time appointed for this agreeable Aft air : 
 But it feems we make wrong Reck'nings when, we 
 compute without the Stars Scarce \va, thi> lirft Ce- 
 remony compleatcd, but Ferdinand takes a Refolution 
 to befiege Baza, lie took his Meafures for the Siege 
 with fuch Precaution and Diligence, that the Place 
 wabinyeited before they in the ieaft fufpected it at the 
 MooriJIj Court ; fo that Daraxas Father, who was Go- 
 vernor of Baz,a 3 found himfelf ihut up with his 
 Daughter in the Town, juft as he was fitting all 
 Things to celebrate this Marriage ; the gallant in- 
 tended Bridegroom being almoit hourly expe¿ted 
 from Granada, where he had prepared for it on his 
 part with a World of Magnificence. Ozm'm, for that 
 was the Name of Daraxas Lover, flood in no need 
 of Advifing, to know what was fit for him to do in 
 this furprizing Conjuncture. Love and Glory permit 
 not the confulting any ; they,thofe noble Incitements 
 of young and gallant Minds, pufh. him on to get into 
 Baza ; and he had flown into it, if he could. He 
 puts himfelf at the Head of 200 Horfe, who, for the 
 greatefl part,confiited of thofe Friends and Creatures 
 that his Merit and Liberality daily gain'd him ; who, 
 refolving to follow his Fortune, were overjoy'd they 
 could alio at the fame time acquire Glory, and ferve 
 their Prince, in throwing themielves into Baza. They 
 met with two lèverai Parties in two Hours march, 
 and intirely defeated both ; but not without Lofs too 
 on their fide, divers of them being kill'dand wounded. 
 A third Party that fell upon them within half a 
 League of the belicg'd Town, they found too flrong 
 for Men who had already fuftain d two Attacks that 
 had been vigorous enough. This lait Party confined 
 of 600 Men, who inftantly furrounding them, call'd 
 to them to yield themielves, and they ihould have 
 Quarter. But Ozmin, under/landing not that fort of 
 
 Lan- 
 
1 1 o The Ufe and Anions Part L 
 
 Language, without lofing his Courage or Judgment, 
 form'd his Men into one Squadron, placing his 
 Wounded, being 1 7 in number, in the Center, ha- 
 ving loft 10 others, who, in the two preceding Ren- 
 counters, had been kill'd upon the Spot. In this Po- 
 Iture he march' d dire&ly up to the Enemies, and en- 
 gag'd them ; and for an Hour, in fpite of the ine- 
 quality of Numbers, Vi&ory feem'd in doubt on which 
 fide to determine ; fo valiantly the Moors, animated 
 by the brave Example of their gallant Leader, main- 
 tain'd the Fight, like Men refolv'd to die or conquer. 
 The iiïue of the Action was ftill doubtful, and tho* 
 many of the Moors were flain, yet. there were far 
 more kill'd on the fide of the Chriftians ; of whom 
 the greater part were difabled, and the reft fo diibr- 
 der'd and broke, as to be almoft ready for flight, had 
 not a new Reinforcement of 200 Men come in to their 
 Relief. Thefe were all frefh Men ; fo that Ozmin, 
 who was dangeroufly wounded in three feveral Places, 
 found himfelf conftrain'd to endeavour to preierve 
 the reft of his Men, by retreating in the beft manner 
 he could. He did accordingly retreat; but in fo 
 good order, and with fo bold and frequent Stands, 
 that the Chriftians thought not fit to purfue them far. 
 He got back to Granada with no Men; of whom, 
 only 12 were not wounded. This Skirmifh was coun- 
 ted one of the moil brisk and vigorous Actions that 
 happen d during the continuance of the Siege of Ba- 
 za ; and the Name of Oz,rhin, which was already 
 known among the ChriJHans, became more famous 
 than ever. 
 
 Being got to Granada, his Wounds confin'd him to 
 his Bed ; upon which, King Mahomet, to whom he 
 was related, would needs do him the Honour of a 
 Vifit, after an A¿Hon fo full of Glory. But what 
 gave him the greateft Joy, was a Letter he receiv'd 
 from his Dear Daraxa -, wherein íhe told him, That 
 the Wounds he had receiv'd, more fenfibly aíFeéled 
 *** ter 
 
Book t of Guzman d'Alfarache. 1 1 î 
 
 her than the Glory he had acquir'd ; that ihe valued 
 the Hero in him much, but the Lover more ; and 
 that ihe therefore pray'd him to be a little lefs zealous 
 for acquiring Reputation at fo great Hazard ; and 
 defir'd him to fpare for the future, all that could be, 
 the effufion of his Blood. She fent him with this 
 Letter a large embroider'd Handkerchief, after the 
 Moorifi manner, of her own Work • and this was the 
 firit Favour, of its kind, that ihe had hitherto done 
 him. 
 
 Oztnins Wounds were too great to give way to 
 the impatient ardour of his Love, prompting him to 
 make a fécond Attempt to get into Baza, and to fuc- 
 ceed in it, or die in the Endeavour, for he could 
 know no Medium in this Cafe ; he muft needs be 
 either with his Dear Daraxa, or elfe he mull; fink into 
 the Grave in a languiihing Defpair. The Governor 
 of Baza, intended Father-in-Law of the amorous 
 Ozmln, having Notice of his Defign to make a fé- 
 cond Attempt, difcourag'd him from endeavouring 
 to force his Way ¿ as being too full of Danger, and 
 impolîîble to fucceed, the Palles being on all fides 
 ihut up, and the Chrifllans too numerous, and too 
 flriftly on their Guard, to give any hopes of getting 
 thro* : He advis'd him rather to dilguize himfelf in a 
 Chrifiian Habit, and to fet out upon a fix'd Day agreed 
 on between them, juit as it grew dark ¿ that io the 
 next Morning, about break of Day, he might get 
 within a quarter of a League of Baza • into which he 
 might from thence throw himiclf under the ihelter of a 
 Sally, that ihould then be made on purpofe to favour 
 his getting in. The Governor fent him thefe Ad- 
 vices by one of his Domeiticks, whofe Name was Or- 
 "uiedo, who had been 14 Years a Prifoner among the 
 Cbrifiïans • and, in that time, had made himfelf fo 
 much Matter oft.heir Language, Manners and Cuftoms, 
 that any Body would have taken him for a natural 
 Spaniard : He was alfoperfe&lv well ¿QTiàiïitèd with the 
 
 Roa;;^ 
 
112 The Life and Aftiom Part 1 
 
 Roads and Situation of the Country ; he was fliarp 
 and cunning, even to Trick and Subtilty ; and was 
 belide all this an excellent Horfeman. Oz,min having 
 maturely weigh'd the Governor of Bazas Advice, 
 and beginning to recover his Health and Vigour, and 
 ro be in a Condition fit to put it in execution, his 
 Father fpoke of it to the King, who highly approv'd 
 on^well knowing the Importance of having aPerfon 
 of Ózntins Valour in the Town. 
 
 This Lover, feeing his Defign fupported by tfxe 
 Royal Approbation, would no longer defer hisíetting 
 out with Orviedo, when once the Day was come that 
 the Governor had appointed him. But tho" they were 
 both of them extreamly well mounted, and tho' 
 fhey rode all Night long without making any flop, 
 they were oblig'd to take fo many by-ways to a- 
 void the Spanijh Parties, and guarded PaiTes, that 
 notwithilanding all their diligence, the Day began 
 to appear while they wanted yet near a League of 
 Baz,a. They were got into a Wood, the better to 
 
 Í>revent difcovery ; but ftill as they advanced, they 
 aw the Chrifiîan Troops fo very much in Motion, 
 that they could not imagine what ihould be the Mat- 
 ter. It was juit the very Day of the Sally that I have 
 already mentiond, and Ferdinand being gone to the 
 Ailiftance of his Men, and a Rumour running thro' 
 the Troops that he was in danger, the whole Army 
 march'd to fuccour and difengage him ; fo that the 
 more our Adventurers advanc'd, the greater Noife 
 they heard from all thefe various Motions. They 
 faw, thro' the Trees, the Duft rifing on all fides, 
 by Which they eafily conjectur'd there was fome great 
 Defign in agitation, if not fome inftant confiderable 
 Action. They then began to be apprehenfive, left 
 they mould precipitate themfelves into fome inextrica- 
 ble Difficulty, ihould they quit the fhelter of the 
 Wood wherein they were cover'd, as they muft ne- 
 ceiTarily do, for paffing into another that lay about 
 
Book I. p/ Guzman d'AIfarache. 1 1 3 
 
 a quarter of a League diftant, and touch'd upon the 
 Rendezvous made them by the Governor, for throw 
 ing themfelves from thence into the Town. But the 
 Governor had not forefeen, that his Contrivance 
 ihould be difcover'd, that the Christians would be fo 
 exceeding diligent to fuccour and lupport their en- 
 gag'd Men, nor that Ozmin fhculd meet with fo 
 many Obftacles as he actually found in his way. 
 Orvkdo, as a Man enur'd and form'd to War, was of 
 Opinion, that Ozmin ihould advance no farther ; but 
 that he ihould rather permit himfelf to go alone on 
 Foot, to enquire a little into the Pofturc and Diipo- 
 íition of Things ; and even to try, if he could, to 
 get into the Place, and acquaint the Governor where 
 Ozmin ftay'd, that fo he might be fafely got into the 
 Town. Ozmin, who knew him to be a Man of good 
 Scnfe and experience, and who, indeed, faw plainly 
 there was no better Courfe to be taken, was content 
 to acquiefce in that Advice; and they agreed toge- 
 ther, that if Orvkdo did not return within twoHours^ 
 that ihould fervefor a Token that he was got fafe into 
 the Place, and that all things were ready to ge't in 
 Ozmin alio. Oriñcdo being departed, the Time grew 
 tedious to the longing Lover; but fo foon as he could 
 reafonably guefs that the two Hours were pafs'd, 
 and Orvkdo not return'd, he became impnient of ex- 
 pecting any longer ; fo taking the direct Road, both 
 as neareft and lefs liable to Sufpicions, he got within 
 a quarter of a League of Baza without any ill 
 Chance ; when, on a fuddain, he faw a great Num- 
 ber, of Moors defcending the Mountain in i • iS- 
 order, and like Men that fled. This furpfl(PBim 
 extreamly : He immediately fpur'd his Hor-fe up to- 
 wards them to inform himfelf, not knowing but it 
 might be a Sally order'd by the Governor in his Fa- 
 vour, but he narrowly mifs'd being kill'd by them ¿ 
 for tho' they were Moors as well as he, yet they fir'd 
 upon him, believing him a Spaniard, becaufe of his 
 
 1 Anda- 
 
1 14 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Andalujtan Habit. By good Fortune, an Officer who 
 was at the Head of this Body, and was known by 
 Ozjnin, hearing himfelf call'd by his Name, prefent- 
 ly knew him by his Voice, and made a Sign to his 
 Men to forbear firing. TÇhis Officer was furpriz'd at 
 the Sight of Oz,win s but told him in a few Words 
 what had happen'd ; that the whole Chrifiian Army 
 had fallen upon two or three thoufand of the Gari- 
 fon, who had made a Sally, and had cut off moft of 
 them; and purfuing the reft to the Suburbs, had enter d 
 it Pell-mell with them, to the Number of about Three 
 Thoufand Cbrifiians, and had poifefs'd themfelves of it : 
 That King Ferdinand was but a quarter of a League 
 off with the main Body of his Army ; and that there 
 was no Thoughts of getting into the Place, it being 
 certain Death or Captivity to attempt it. Oz>min s 
 afflicted to Extremity at this ill News, faw plainly, 
 that as Matters flood, there was nothing to be done 
 but to return to Granada ; nor was there any Security 
 for even fo much as flaying any longer there. He 
 therefore rallied what he could of thefe icatter'd 
 Troops, and making up a Body of about 500 Men, he 
 retreated by the way that he came, more overcome 
 with Grief than the firfl time, tho' he had now no 
 manner of Wound ; but his Trouble rofe from the 
 Mortification of having been fo very near Baza, and 
 yet not able to get into it. 
 
 This News much alarm'd the Court of the MoorijJ) 
 King, tho' his Men had upon this Occafion behav'd 
 tb îs with all poflible Valour : And tho' the 
 
 Ch. had dearly bought the Advantage that their 
 
 Numbers had procur'd them over the Moors ; there 
 being flain, efpecially at firfl, and at Ferdinand's com- 
 ing, abundance of Men of Quality; but ftill the 
 King of Granada juftly reflected, that after fo great 
 Fatigues, the Garifon of neceflity growing weak, it 
 was not poflible for the Place to hold out much lon- 
 ger j fo that in Truth his Uneafinefs was but too 
 
 well 
 
Book I. % of Guzman d'Alfarache. 1 1 5 
 
 well grounded^ fince Baza being taken, there would 
 be no confiderable Town able to endure a tit 
 
 him, except only the City of Granada, the Metropo- 
 lis of his Kingdom, and his laft Refuge. 
 
 All the Moorifi Court following the King's Exam- 
 ple, was fill'd with Grief; but that of Ozwn went 
 beyond all imagination. Defpair mingled with his 
 Sorrow ; and there was no Hopes he could poiîîbly 
 íiirvive it, unlefs, come what would, he made a 
 third Attempt to throw himfelf into Baza. Soon 
 after his Return to Granada, there came News, That 
 the Chriftiems feeing themfelves expos'd in the Suburbs 
 to all :he Fire of the City, had abandond it. This 
 News confirm'd him in his Refolution to try his Fate 
 once more; and he was determin'd to go the f>me 
 way that he went with Orviedo. But juit as he was 
 ready to mount his Horfe, comes Orviedo to Grenada 
 with Difpatches from the Governor for the King, 
 and with a particular Letter for Ozmin. His Joy w. 
 extream at the Sight of Orviedo; but it lafted no lon- 
 ger than till he had read the Governor's Letter • by 
 which he was made acquainted with the Misfortune 
 had befallen his Daughter. It would be difficult e- 
 nough to exprefs the dreadful Agony of the wretched 
 Ozwin, at this terrible and amazing News. At firft 
 he flood as fix'd and motionlefs as a Marble Statue, 
 becaufe the Blow had aftonifh'd and overwhelm'd 
 him ; but having a little recover'd his Spirits, 
 became agitated, with all the ExceiTes of Rj 
 Fury, that the moil violent Pailions are able 
 fpire. He fuffer'd under Tempefts of Sighs, 
 wounding Sobs, and tranfporting Agonies, that mel- 
 ted all that iaw him into the moft relenting Ten- 
 dernefsj and gave a general Fear that his Life was in 
 Danger. Nor indeed could he long refift the une- 
 qual Force of fo violent a Grief. His Body, taking 
 neither Reft nor Nutriment, was foon redue'd fo low, 
 as to put it out of his Power, either to afflict or la- 
 
 I 2 ment 
 
1 1£ The Life and Anions * Part L 
 
 ment himfelf. A Fcaver feiz'd him; his Strength left 
 him ; and from violent Agitations of raging Tran- 
 fports, he became íb weak and languishing, that his 
 Death was alnioft hoy.lv expe&ed. The Phyfitians 
 had given him over, and all his Family were now in 
 the utmoft Affliction for him ; when Love, that 
 mighty Worker of amazing Miracles, a Doótor more 
 Learned and Succefsful than a whole College, efpe- 
 cia.lly in Diforders occafion'd by himfelf, happily 
 fuggeited to him a Thought molt proper to reftore 
 him to his Health, and recall the former Peace and 
 Quiet of his Mind. He revolv'd this Expedient fo 
 continually in his Mind and Heart, and long'd fo 
 much to make it fucceed, that he became at laft firm- 
 ly perfwaded he could certainly and eafily make it 
 do. From that Moment he began to recover ; and 
 the ardour of his Defires, and ftrength of his Belief, 
 in a ihort time reitor'd him to his perfed Health. 
 In fine, he no fooner found himfelf fit to fit his 
 Horfe, but he imparts his Defign to Orviedo ; whofe 
 Service would be ufeful to him, and who had never 
 itir'd from him during his Indifpofition. Baz,* had 
 been furrender'd - 3 and there was certain Advice, 
 That Ferdinand ( by a finenefs of his wonted Politicks, 
 the fmooth difguife of his Defigns for the enfuing 
 Campaign) was gone to pafs the Winter at Sevil 
 with the Queen. Every Body knew at Granada, 
 that Daraxa was highly in favour with this Princefs ; 
 ?. • Therefore O&min was certain ihe waited at Court. 
 lis Reflexion, he refolv'd that he and Orviedo, 
 covering themfelves under the appearance of Anda- 
 lufian Gentlemen, would go to Se-oil - y where, in the 
 confus'd medley there mult needs be, and both of 
 them fpeaking Scanty, he concluded reaibnably e- 
 nough, that it would be difficulty to diicover 
 they were Moors, and very improbable they ihould be in 
 the leaf!; regarded. Orviedo, who was naturally of 
 an enterprizing Temper, and never ftuck at Difficul- 
 ties, 
 
Book I. ' of Guzman d'Alfarache. 1 1 7 
 
 ties, agreed in our Lover's Sentiments, equally from 
 Inclination and Compláifarice. Their Diíguiíc ot 
 Chriftian Habits were ready ; they chofe two of the 
 beft Steeds in OzMtns Stables, who was a Man ex- 
 treamly nice and curious in Hories, and taking with 
 them good Store of Gold and Jewels, (of which this 
 Lover was in no want ) as a principal part of their 
 Equipage, they let out from Granada one fair inviting 
 Night, without taking leave of any Body, and took 
 the way of the beautiful Plain leading directly to Se- 
 vil. They expected to meet with variety of Acci- 
 dents, in paiïîng through fo many Places where the 
 Chriftian Troops were polled ; but, by good Fortune, 
 they met not with the leaft interruption till the next 
 Day at Noon, that within a League of Loxa, they 
 were unluckily fpied by the Grand Provoit of the 
 Chriftian Army accompanied with his Guards. He 
 was in puriiiit of fome Defcrtcrs, when on a fudden he 
 fawtwoHorfemen, who had not indeed very much the 
 appearance of Defertion • but yet he thought them too 
 well mounted for an Equipage, that in all other re- 
 fpeds ièem'd plain and mean enough. He bid them 
 ftand and give the Word, and demanded an account 
 whence they came, and whither they were going. 
 O^min, who, as well as Orviedo, prefently faw how 
 'twas, finding they were all of a fudden furrounded 
 by a dozen of thefe Rafeáis, with their Carabines 
 prefented to their Breafts, thought it Nonlence to 
 caufe their certain Death by a vain Orientation of 
 unfeafonable Bravery : He therefore left it to Orviedo, 
 who was foremoil, to manage the Point. Orviedo told 
 the Provoft, they were under the Marquiis of Aft ar- 
 gos, and were going to Se-vil upon Bufmcis they had 
 at Court. Upon which the Provoft requir'd to fee 
 their Furlo. Orviedo pretended to look for it, but 
 not finding it, the Provoft refolv'd to carry them back 
 to the Poll from whence they faid they came. That 
 Reiblution of the Provoft, as you may very well 
 
 I $ gueis, 
 
8 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 :1s, was by no means agreeable to Oz^miris Wifhes; 
 but he knew very well the true Secret to mollity the 
 otiftnefs of thefe fort of Men. He drew from one of 
 his Fingers a very fair Diamond Ring, and hand- 
 ibmly letting its Beauty and Luítre iparkle \n the 
 Provoft's Eyes, I am certain, Sir, faid he, addreffing 
 himfelf to him, you are too much a Man of Honour 
 to make me mifs the Opportunity of an Employment 
 that I am going to follicit at Court. Pray let me 
 prefent you with this Ring, and have your Leave to 
 purfue our Journey. The Provoft had inftantly his 
 Eyes upon the Diamond, and underftanding well the 
 value of it, he was equally furpriz'd and charm'd 
 with fo generous a Prêtent. He was now full of Ex- 
 cufes for having hinder'd their Journey, and pourd 
 out a profufion of Civilities that Ozjn'm could well 
 have abated him \ and by a further excefs of Com- 
 pliment, he would needs guard them to Loxa with his 
 Men. Oz,min did all he could to prevent it, but 'twas 
 impoíííble ; the over-civil Provoft would needs con- 
 vince fo generous a Gentleman,- that he knew when 
 he was obiig'd, and that he was no ungrateful Perfon. 
 When they came in Sight of Loxa, the Provoft re- 
 doubled the Offers of his Service, and Oz.mln his Re- 
 turn of Thanks. At laft they made an end of their 
 Compliments, to the great Satisfaction of the Moors, 
 ro whom the Company of thefe Beafts of Prey was 
 difagreable enough; and they got at laft thus in fafety 
 from them. This was the only Rencounter that our 
 two Adventurers met with in their way to Servil ; 
 where being arriv'd, they judg'd it proper, for Rea- 
 fons eafy to be guefs'd, to take up their Lodgings in 
 the Suburbs that lys beyond the River Guadalquivir, as 
 the moft retir'd, private, and quiet part of the Town ; 
 but every Corner was fo crowded, fo throng'd with 
 Quality "and Equipage, that even in that commonly 
 neglec?ccd Quarter, they had much ado to get any 
 tolerable Accommodation. It was juft at the very nick 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 1 1 % 
 
 of Time, when the Court was moil intent upodpbhe 
 Preparations for the approaching Feftival and Com- 
 bat of Bulls ; fo very near it, that it wanted but a 
 Week to it ; and generally the whole City of Stvil 
 was employ 'd in the magnificent Preparatives th:it 
 were making for it, both for Ladies and Gentlemen. 
 Our Moors were no fooner arriv'd, but they were in- 
 form'd of all the News, by means of the Domefticks 
 of lèverai Court-Lords, with whom their Inn was 
 fill'd, as were indeed all the reft of the Inns in the 
 Town. There was no Talk but upon the fubject of 
 this Feaft ; and as Servants are commonly better in- 
 form'^ in publick Chat and Rumours than their 
 Mailers, or at leaft they talk of Things among them- 
 ielves with greater liberty, Ozmin in fome Places, 
 and Orviedo in others, by giving attentive Ear to theíe 
 Difcourfes, eafily and quickly made themfelves Ma- 
 ilers of all Things of any moment, relating either to 
 the Court or the City. Ozmin, for his Share, leanVd 
 more than he wihYdtoknow, or more, however, than 
 agreed with the quiet of his Mind. He had before 
 made Orviedo often relate to him, the" manner of his 
 Miítreís's being taken Prifoner by the Cbriftians. 
 This faithful Servant had attended her into the Su- 
 burbs; whither, againft every Bodies Judgment, ihe 
 would needs go, that ihe might give that pregnant 
 Proof of her carneil Zeal to meet that Dear Lover, 
 who, as Orviedo had told her, was every Moment ex- 
 pected at Baza.' Orviedo was in the very Garden 
 wherein Dar axa was repofing her loll, in expectation 
 of the Arrival of her belov'd Oz>min, when Don ~A- 
 lonfo had caus'd the Garden-Gates to be broke down; 
 but then, conftrain'd to give way to Numbers and 
 iliperior Force, he artfully (under the ihelter of his 
 Spanijli Habit) found means to mingle himielf among 
 the Throng of Chrifiicns, and to pais for one of the 
 Gentlemen belonging to Don Alonjo, whom he fol- 
 lpw'd even into the King's Preiènce, when this Lord 
 
 I 4 pre- 
 
120 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 pfefented Daraxa to him- after' which, he made a 
 ihift to get back to Baza ; where he gave an Account 
 to the Governor, her Father, of all that happcn'd. 
 Ox>min 3 but too well inftru&ed in all thefe Particu- 
 lars, and efpeciallv in the too lively Defcription made 
 him by Orviedo, of the Perfon of Don Alonfo, and of 
 his Noble, Generous and RefpecTrful Comportment 
 towards Daraxa, who could not be inienfible of fo 
 many Civiiicies from a Gentleman fo nobly Qualifi'd; 
 Oz,min 3 I fay, already poffefs'd with all "thefe Ideas^ 
 which had made but too much Imprellion upon his 
 Heart, had no need of the further Inticements to 
 Jealoufy and Defpair that he met with, in hearing by 
 all the Talk of the Gentlemen's- and Noblemen's Ser- 
 vants, where he lay, that this fame Don Alonfo ftil'd 
 himfelf the Knight of the Beautiful Moor • that he 
 had alfo feveral other Rivals, but that this was re- 
 puted to be moft in Daraxa s Favour ; and that if ihe 
 turn'd Chrifiian, as there feem'd fome likelihood, the 
 Talk of the Court was, that he would marry her. 
 This was enough to ruin the Repofe of a Lover, far 
 lefs paffionate and nice than he. And indeed 'twas 
 well for him, that he had with him fuch a Confident 
 as Orvfcdo ; who yet, with all his Wit and Manage- 
 ment, had much ado to keep him from relapdng into 
 thofe Rages andPaffions that had already brought him 
 fo near the Grave. He ftrove to comfort and reaífure 
 him, by reprefenting the Love, the Vertue, the Fi- 
 delity of his Miftreis, as impoilible to be ftain'd with 
 fuch a Guilt ; but that it was out of her Power, 
 beautiful as ihe was, to hinder her felf from being 
 belov'd, fince none that faw her but muft needs be 
 touch'd by fo much Beauty. Thefe Remonftrances 
 of Orvîedo, in fome fort, mitigated the violent Agi- 
 tations of this Lover's Mind, but they could not 
 reach the Root. That which beft fupported his 
 Hopes, and gave him moft Strength to bear up under 
 his Unhappinefs,, was his being at-prefent actually 
 
 upon, 
 
Book I. of Guzman cPAlfarache. 1 2 1 
 
 upon the Spot ; and that there now prefented it felf 
 the moft favourable Opportunity imaginable, for him - 
 ielf to difcern and diftinguiih the Merit of hisRivals, 
 and Daraxas Conduct towards them ; upon which;, he 
 might the better take his future Meaiures. as Love 
 and his juft Rcfentments mould infpire and dictate. 
 Purfuant to thelè Thoughts, he would by no Means 
 permit Orviedo to let his Miftreis know of his Arrival 
 before the Feftival,, that fo he might the better make 
 his Obfervations. 
 
 In the mean time,, as he was a great Lover of thcfè 
 fort of Exercifes, and Combats with Bulls, whereof 
 the Moors had been the firft Inventors ; and being one 
 of the ftrongeft., and moft expert and dexterous, of 
 all the Gentlemen of his Time in thofe Valorous and 
 active Sports, he would not lofe fo fair an Occa- 
 fion of fignalizing himfelf in Prefence of ïo Great 
 and Flourifhing a Court as that of their Catholick Ma- 
 jefties ; but above all., in the Preicnce of his Miftrefs., 
 to make her fenfible of the juft Diftinction there 
 ought to be made between him and his Rivals. He 
 enjoin'd Orviedo to prepare forthwith all that was fit 
 for their Appearance at thefe Combats and Entertain- 
 ments ; and as no Money was wanting, and Orviedo 
 had Orders to fpare for no Coft, Workmen were 
 eafily found,, tho 1 all fo full of Bulinefs j and rich and 
 magnificent Equipages were compleatly ready for 
 them before the Sports began. 
 
 Tho Day of the Solemnity at laft arriv'd. Never 
 was there feen fuch a profufion of Magnificence,, 
 Riches and Bravery., as was then expos'd to publick 
 View. Every Body exerted their height of Gallan- 
 try. Daraxa was, perhaps, the only Perfon at Court, 
 and even of the City alfo., who was leaft concern'd 
 about it. Nothing but an exprefs Command from 
 the Queen could have prevail'd with her to drefs a- 
 cove her ufual manner ; and yet ihe did it with a re- 
 markable Negligence: but her admirable Beauty was 
 
 itill 
 
122 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 itill fo ihining, as oblcur'd the Ladies that happen'd 
 to be near her. All things were in order early in 
 the Morning ; rich Tapeftries, and all manner of 
 fine Embellifhments, were plac d to adorn the Streets 
 through which their Majefties and the Court were to 
 pafs to the great P¿¿z&&¿*,being the ufual Place for thefe 
 kind of Divertifements, and which was then adorn'd 
 in the moil fumptuous manner. Their Catholkk Ma- 
 jefties came thither about three a Clock in the After- 
 noon, and feated themfelves in their own magnificent 
 Balcony. Dar axa was in another, on the fide of the 
 King's, accompanied with «feveral Ladies ; divers 
 Great Lords being alfo there, fuch as had formerly 
 been a¿Hve in thofe vigorous Sports ; but now, be- 
 caufe of their more advanc'd Age, made no Preten- 
 tions to the Honours of thefe Combats, wherein all 
 the young Noblemen and Gentlemen of Quality, 
 that had any Hopes or Dépendance on the Court, 
 were forward to ihew themfelves. The Cafas or Tur- 
 naments, were to be divided into eight Bands or Squa- 
 drons, each confiding of twelve Cavaliers beiides their 
 Leader; making together 104 Horfe. Of thefe Lea- 
 ders, four were of the Number of Daraxa's Lovers ; 
 namely, Don Rodrigo de Padilla, Don Alonfo de Zuniga, 
 Don Juan d'Uregna, and Don Diego de Caftro, all of 
 them handfome young Noblemen, of very great Per- 
 fonal Accomplifhments, and of diftinguifiYd Merit ; 
 but the molt paifionate , were the two fiiit, and to 
 them at length the other two gave up their Preten- 
 tions. 
 
 The Sports began according to Cuftom, with the 
 Gourfe or Combat of Bulls : They turn'd one loofe at 
 firit, that was none of the nerceft ; and as every one 
 ftrove to flrike firit, it was quickly ftruck down. 
 Our two Moors were already prêtent at the Place, but 
 not yet brought within the open Square of the Sports; 
 they kept without, among many others that were alfo 
 on Horfeback, to fee a little after what manner the 
 
 Chrifiiam 
 
Book I. of Guzman d' Alfarache. 125 
 
 Chriftian* manag'd thefe Matters, and what pafs'd 
 within the Lifts before they went in. One may eaiily 
 believe, that the fiift Endeavours of Oz,min were to 
 look out for his Miftrefs ; whom, without much 
 Pains, he loon diftinguiflfd from the reft, notwith- 
 ilanding her Spamjl) Garb. The Novelty of this 
 Drefs furpriz'd him, it not having been mention'd to 
 him - y and this change in her Habit, which feeind to 
 prelage him fome other of more fatal Confequence, 
 gave him at ftrft a little difquiet of Mind. He be- 
 held her a long time with great Attention ; and tho' 
 he was at fome diftance from her, he could plainly 
 perceive ihe was much alter'd, and that ihe had not 
 that lively pleafant Air fo very natural to her. Her 
 very Poiture exprefsd a certain Sadnefs and Melan- 
 choly. Whoever conuder'd her, would have been 
 very apt to conclude fhe took not the lead notice of 
 any thing that pafs'd there, fince ihe did not fo much 
 as vouchsafe to caft her Eyes upon the Diverfions. 
 Her Elbow was negligently lean'd upon the Balcony, 
 and her Head upon her Hand ; and ilie let the feve- 
 ral Objeds pals indifferently before her Eyes, not 
 diílin¿lly viewing any, or, indeed, rather confidering 
 none of them ; for her Mind was io wholly taken up, 
 that ihe thought of nothing leis than what ihe might 
 feem to look upon. Lovers let nothing be loft, and 
 io' all this might be varicufly interpreted, yet Oz- 
 min, thro' fome remains of Hope, willingly applied 
 it to himfelf, and deriv'd a fecret PIcafure from it, 
 that none but perfect lovers, and thofe too of the 
 niceft and moil rerin cl Tails, are able to find out and 
 rejifli. All thefe Ideas, and the Sight of his Dear 
 Daraxa, fo fully employ'd him at his firit coming, 
 that 'twas no Wonder he had little or no Share in the 
 publick Pleafure of the firft Bull ; which, indeed, 
 was not very confiderabie, for the Reafon I have told 
 you. But upon turning out the iecond Bull, which 
 vas of a much greater Strength than the ftrft, the 
 
 Noife 
 
124 The Life an d Anions Part I. 
 
 Noife of the People drew him from his fixd Atten- 
 tion at Daraxas Balcony, as a Man is wak'd out of a 
 deep Sleep -, and then looking round over all the 
 Square, he faw they had to do with a Beaft, who, 
 tho' it were none of the moil violent, yet made work 
 enough for them ail. In the mean time, the Crowd 
 of thofe who were round about him, as well thofe 
 on Horfeback, who were of the Attendants of the 
 Gentlemen within the Lifts, as the Throng of thofe 
 that mob'd it a Foot, were furpriz'd, that two 
 Champions of their Appearance, in whom they faw 
 fomething of Uncommon,and even of Foreign,but yet 
 magnificently equip'd, and in good order, mould re- 
 main thus without the Lifts. Are they only come hi- 
 ther (faid the Populace one to another) to fee the 
 Gourfes ? Dare they not engage ? Are they afraid of 
 the Bulls ? And do they carry a Lance only to lend 
 it to fomebody ? They talk'd after this rate, and 
 made other Ralleries out aloud, as upon fuch Occa- 
 fions the Mob commonly do, without fparing any 
 Body. Ozjmin and Orviedo over-heard all this Prate 
 without faying one Word, nor did they ilir at all for 
 that. They knew very well that there would be 
 time enough for them to ihew what they were, ancj 
 whether they deferv'd thofe Reproaches. Oz.min was 
 defirous to fee an end of the Courfe and Combat of 
 this fécond Bull, which had already difabled two m 
 the Combatants. Only Don Alonfo had wounded 
 him ; but the Blow proceeding from an Arm of un- 
 proportion'd Strength, the Bull was but the more en- 
 rag'd by it, and the Knight was happy in nimbly a- 
 voiding the Bulls return of Hoitility ; which miffing 
 the Mailer, yet lit upon his Horfe, and laid him 
 dead upon the Place. Don Rodrigo de Padilla, one of 
 the ítrongeíl of all the Champions, had the Ho- 
 nour to be Victor, and at Jail difpatch'd this iecond 
 Bull. 
 
 A* 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 125 
 
 As foon as ever Oz.ntin had feen an end of this fé- 
 cond Courfe, and perecí v'd they were going to turn 
 out the third Bull, he gave a Signal to Owiedo to 
 march to the Bars of the Lifts, and defire their Ad- 
 miifion, which was granted as foon as ask'd ,• both 
 Mailer and Man making toe coniiderable a Figure 
 for any fcruple to be made about their entring the 
 Lifts, or having their Part in the Courfet. As till then 
 they had been among the Crowd, they had been but 
 very little minded, except by thofe juft round about 
 them, whofe Sport and Jeit they had been • but they 
 were no fooner got within the Lifts, when the Eyes 
 of all the Spectators were turn'd upon them, and 
 there was a general Silence for a time, as if on pur- 
 pole to confider them, as well becauie of feveral re- 
 markable Singularities they had by the Noble Fa- 
 iliion of their Appearance,as by their equally Courtly 
 and Warlike Mien/and the Richnefs and Splendor of 
 their Arms, and of their whole Equipage ; and Oz,- 
 min in particular, who juftly pafs'd for the moft 
 graceful Horieman among all the Moors, and the moft 
 expert in Florfemanfhip. Both their Faces were co- 
 ver'd with a blue Crape, as deiiring to remain con- 
 # ceal'd -, which the rather excited the Curioiity of 
 knowing who they were. The Efquire bore his Ma- 
 ilers Lance after a different manner from what was 
 cuftomary in Spain ; but belides that, the Knight wore 
 upon his left Arm, in the manner of a Military Scarf, 
 a large Handkerchief, embroider'd à la Morefejue ; 
 which was another diftin&ion quite different from 
 the Gallantries of the Spanish Vogue; from all which, 
 'twas guels'd that either they were real Strangers, or 
 had a Mind to be thought io ; but not one of all the 
 whole Alfembly had the leaft Sufpicion of their being 
 Moors. Ferdinand was one of the firit who had his 
 Eyes upon them : He made the Queen prefently take 
 notice of them, and both King and Queen took a 
 great deal of Pleafure in feeing them draw nearer, 
 
 for 
 
1 2¿ The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 for they went on that fide of the Square, whereby 
 their Majefties had the Satisfaction ot viewing them 
 more diftin&ly. All the Cavaliers, within the Bar- 
 rier, made a Lane to let them pafs thro', and gratify 
 at the fame time their own Curiofity in obièrving 
 them attentively. The King was pleas'dto fay, That 
 he never faw Men that fate their Horfes with a better 
 Grace • but that, in particular, the Mailer difcover'd 
 by his whole Air and Mien, that he was certainly a 
 Man of a very uncommon Merit. Dar axa was the 
 only Perfon whom this Grand Feftival, by a contrary 
 Effed:, had made more fad and melancholy than ihe 
 had been hitherto obferv'd, and who woula not have 
 given her felf the trouble of heeding thefe two 
 new Comers, had it not been for the Marquifs of 
 Padilla, Father of Don Rodrigo, who, at his Age, far 
 more inclin'd to Courtihip and Compliment than 
 his Son, having teaz'd and rallied the lovely Moor 
 upon the Subject of the gloomy mufing Humour,where- 
 in ihe feem'd buried in the midit of fo many agreeable 
 Diverfions, oblig'd her at lait to turn her Head that way. 
 She immediately found a fort of Emotion in her felf 
 at firft Sight of thefe two Cavaliers, tho' ihe fcarce 
 knew why. She only perceiv'd in them another 
 manner than that of the Spaniards, as to their fitting 
 and managing their Horfes, tho' the Difference was 
 not very great ; and her Curiofity augmenting 
 every Moment, ihe could not forbear asking Don Lewis 
 who they were : He replied, he knew nothing of 
 them ; and that the King himfelf had inquir'd con- 
 cerning them, without being able to be inform'd. 
 They were come almoft over-againft her Balcony, 
 when ihe chanc'd to call her Eyes upon that Hand- 
 kerchief that the Knight wore upon his Arm, which 
 jQie had not till then obferv'd, and which ihe could 
 not behold without a palpitation of Heart ; which in 
 one Moment infpir'd her with a thoufand Thoughts. 
 And yet, neverthelefs, ihe was not able to believe that 
 
 which 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 127 
 
 which ihe really faw, as well as ftrongly fancied, 
 that it was the very felf-fame Handkerchief that ihe 
 had fent to O^min upon his having been wounded, 
 and that it was that very dear Lover himfelf ; but 
 when he had made a full ftand, as he did, juft before 
 her Balcony, his Countenance, his Air, his noble 
 Mien, every thing agreed to aiïure her, that it was 
 moft certainly he himfelf; and that tho' her Eyes 
 might poflibly miftake, yet by the Traniports of her 
 Heart, ihe knew ihe was not deceiv'd. She was juft 
 ready to abandon her felf to the warmeft Excelfes of 
 ib unlook'd-for Joy, when the third Bull, who from 
 his firft Sally had fill'd all the Inckfure with dreadful 
 Diforders, came and difturb'd the dear Delights of 
 fo agreeable Moments, advancing on that fide the 
 Square where Oz.min flood, with bellowings, that of 
 themfelves were fufficient to fill the Ear and Heart 
 with Dread and Horrour. This fierce Animal was of 
 the Breed of Tarifa ; nor came there ever a more fu- 
 rious Beaft from thence, tho' that part of Spain is 
 very famous for them. There was no need to excite 
 his Rage by Provocation*; he was furious enough 
 without it. Neverthelefs they continually provok'd 
 him according to Cuitom, by throwing great Sticks 
 and Cudgels at him; but the Cavaliers did not prefent 
 themfelves before him with the fame undaunted 
 daring Valour as they had ihcvvn with the two others. 
 They made their Attacks with more Caution, and 
 Bridle in Hand, as well Don Rodrigo and Don Alon- 
 fo } as the reft ; when, as I was faying, all on a fud- 
 den he takes a frisk crofs the enclos'd Square^ as if he 
 went on purpofe to look for Ostmm, who was then 
 alone with Orviedo on that fide the Lifts ; and being 
 wholly taken up with lb inchanting an Object, as 
 that of his lovely Daraxa, did not dream of his Dan- 
 ger, and much lefs of his Defence; but the loud Out- 
 cries of the People, and even of his Miftrefs too, 
 and the Lance prefented him at the fame time by O- 
 
 <vicdo, 
 
1 28 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 viedo, prefently made him turn to his immediate 
 Danger. He had but juit Time to turn himielf about, 
 when feeing the impetuous Beait ready to ruih upon 
 him, the valiant Hero (animated by the Prefence of 
 the bright Goddefs of his Vows, far more than by 
 any confederation for the Monarchs o(Spain 3 and all that 
 ihining Court) difcerning with an admirable Prefence 
 of Mind a fair Opportunity to give a Maíter-ítroak, 
 puihing his Hôrfe with the utmoft Vigour, paiTes his 
 Lance with incredible Swiftnefs, Dexterity and 
 Strength, between the Neck and Shoulder of the 
 Bull, in fuch wonderous manner, as that, opening 
 all before him, he drove the fatal Weapon quite thro' 
 his whole Body, and nail'd him to the Ground with 
 it fo firm and iure, that the Beait no more ft ir'd after 
 the amazing Thruft, than if a Thunderbolt had 
 itruck him. Our noble Lover, having thus conquer'd 
 this furious Beait, to the Wonder of all this great Af- 
 fembly,thro wing into the middle of the Area the broken 
 Remainder of his Victorious Lance, and retiring by 
 the fame way that he came, as filently as he could, 
 withdrew himfelf. So Noble and Brave an Action, 
 of a Man already given over for dead, excited fo 
 much Admiration, not only in Ferdinand and Ijabdla y 
 in whofe immediate Prefence the Thing was done, 
 but in the whole Court, and all the People, that no- 
 thing was to be heard for a good long quarter of an 
 Hour, but Shouts of Joy and Acclamations ; and no- 
 thing could be heard through all the Place, but 
 long live the Knight with the Blue Scarf, the 
 braveit Man of the Age. They itiled him thus, be- 
 caufe of the blue Crape Scarf that .cover'd his Face, 
 and was falten d behind his Head with a great Knot 
 of Ribbons of the fame Colour, being that of Da-' 
 raxa. As for her, whofe Heart had pafs'd in an inftant 
 from one Extream to another, from an Exceis of 
 Joy, to a dreadful Terror, ihe had been fo confoun- 
 ded between both, that ihe became quite inlènfible 
 
 for 
 
Book I. (/Guzman d'Alfarache^ 12^ 
 
 for certain Moments difcerning nothing ; fo that the 
 dreadful Bull was actually dead, when at her coming 
 to her felf, íhe expected to find him all in Fury juft 
 before her ; but being undeceiv'd, by the repeated 
 Acclamations and Praifes in Honour of this dear Lo- 
 ver, (for íhe now no longer doubted that 'twas he^ 
 and expecting to find him under her Balcony, íhe 
 was mightily furpriz'd that íhe was not able to fee 
 him wherever íhe look'd. She thereupon inquir'd, 
 with new Concern, what was become of him ; 
 and the Noblemen and Ladies that were about her 
 ihew'd her where he was, already at a good diftance 
 from the Lifts, follow'd by a Throng of People that 
 crowded to gaze upon him as an extraordinary Man. 
 Ferdinand feveral times declâr'd, that he had never 
 feen a more Bold and Vigorous Thruft of a Lance * 
 and for fome time there was fcarce any Talk but of 
 this brave Cavalier ; every Body making their.Guefles 
 at him, and the King and Queen, and all the Courtj 
 expreifing a great Defire to know him. 
 
 Night was now come ; which being the appointed 
 time for the Diverfion of the Sporting Spears, the 
 whole enclos'd Square was forthwith lighted with an 
 infinite number of Flambeaux ; never was there a finer 
 Illumination. And now came on the Quadrillons, or 
 Squadrons of the Sport, with their Trumpets, Fifes^ 
 Kettle-Drums; follow'd by the Pages and Footmen, 
 and twelve Sumpter-Mules, all loaded with Bundles of 
 Reeds, form'd into Sporting Spears or Lancet. The 
 Knights had their Lead-Hones for the Courfes, all 
 molt magnificently adorn'd with Caparifons of Vel- 
 vet, of the Colour of the Standard of each Band,, 
 and embroider'd with Gold and Silver $ the Coat of 
 Arms of each Commander being a-top. Never was 
 ib much Riches feen ; for 'twas not only Gold and 
 Silver that glitter'd every where, and wherewith the 
 Bridles, Saddles, Houfings, Poitrals, and eVen the 
 meaneft Gires were nll'd> but all their Equi- 
 
 K pages 
 
1 30 The Life and Anions Part 1, 
 
 pages were thick fet with precious Stories, and 
 Jevvels of great Price, as well as their Perfons. Thero 
 were in all 480 Horfes. Firft march'd the Equipages, 
 led by the Querries or Matters of the Horfe of every 
 Chief of a Squadron. Then came the Horfes, 
 whereof the firft 1 2 carried at their foremoft Saddle- 
 bows, the Arms and Crefts of the Family of each 
 Knight, and at their hinder Saddle-bow were hung 
 their Devices, with Motto's fuited to each Knight's 
 Fancy or Inclination; and all this adorn'd with abun- 
 dance of Ribbons, and with Gold, Silver, and Silk. 
 Fringe. The other Horfes had only their ufual Fur- 
 niture, with Silver Bells, wherewith they made not 
 (mail Noife. After the Horfes, came Footmen in Li- 
 veries in the fame order. They march'd round the whole, 
 enclos'd Place for the Sports, which they intirely 
 fill'd, and then march'd out by a different Gate 
 from that they came in at, to avoid Confufion and 
 Diforder. ThzGhiadrittos*, Bands or Squadrons^ then 
 made their Entry in two Files, each having their 
 refpe&ive Leader at their Head. They had march'd 
 thro' the Streets in the fame order, and then made 
 the Tour of the Square, as their Equipages had done ; 
 after which, they began their Courfes by two and two, 
 Lance in Hand, but with fo much Vigor and Addrefs> 
 with fo good an Air, and fo agreeable an Exa&nefs,. 
 that every Body was charm'd with it : And it may 
 well be (aid, That poilibly there is no Place in the 
 whole World where this Exercife is more frequent, 
 or where there is more perfectly accompliih'd Cava- 
 liers for thefe, Turnamcnts, Carroufels, or Sportive 
 Tiltings or Juilings than in Andaloujla, and more 
 efpecially at S evil, Cor doua, and Xeres de la Frontera ; 
 where even Youths of 8 or 10 Years of Age may 
 be feën to ride and manage Florfes, and run them at 
 full fpeed, with fo much dexterity and gracefulnefs, 
 that one would almoft think they were one Piece 
 with ■'. the Horfe, or had us d that Trade. from their 
 
 Births: 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. i 3 t 
 
 Births: There's no Stranger that fees them, but what's 
 ravifh'd with Admiration. 
 
 The Cuadrillo 's, after having run tour times in this 
 manner at the four Fronts of the Square, retreated 
 by the fame Gate as their Equipages ; and then re- 
 entered by the firft Gate in the fame Orderas before, but 
 With their Shields upon their Arms, and Reeds, Canes, 
 or Sporting Spears in their Hands. They began their 
 Sports or Combats 12 againil 12 ; that is to lay, Jghia* 
 r/r/Tfoagainft j^Wr://fl,orone Band, Troop or Squadron, 
 againif. another. This had not laded above a quarter 
 qx an Hour before two other Squadrons came, one 
 on each fide; which, while the fécond feem'd to part, 
 the firlt began a new Skirmifh, fo much more de- 
 lightful, by how much the number was encreas'd ; 
 and, neverthelefs, the whole was perform'd with fo 
 much order and exadnefs, that it had more the re- 
 femblancc of Dancing than Fighting. 
 
 While all this was doing, Ozmin, who wou'd not 
 Jofe one Moment of Time that he could poffibly 
 employ to fee his belov'd Daraxa again, and to be 
 feen by her, in a Seafon fo favourable to him as thar. 
 was; no fooner was got at liberty, with Orx-Wo, from 
 the Crowd of People that had follow'd them, bud" 
 having privately difarm'd himielf, he came back a- 
 gain immediately to the Place of Sports, and preffing 
 thro' the Throng, placed himfelf at his Miitrefs's 
 Balcony. As he was now but indifferently Habited, 
 no Body troubled themfelves to diílinguiíh him, hot- 
 withftanding his noble Mien ; noi* could it be dond 
 in fuch a Time and Crowd as that, at ledit unleís he¡ 
 liad been very well known. Dataxa^ one may ima- 
 gine, had her Thoughts wholly intent upon him, 
 and tho'ihe was perfwaded he would moil certainly re- 
 turn thither, and in that Belief had often look'd 
 round on every fide for him, yet ihe was far enough 
 from gueiîîng that he was already got fo very near 
 her j but juft then a moil charming J\ T ofegay, finely 
 
 K. z 3nC§r- 
 
1 3 2 77;e? I//e ¿«¿/ itâ/ftr* Part Î. 
 
 intermingled with abundance of rich Ribbons that 
 Don Alonfo had fent her that very Day, as Ihe was 
 toying with it, chanc'd to flip out of her Hand, and 
 fell down juft at the Feet of this Lover, as he was 
 then gazing upon her. He immediately took it up, 
 and this caus'd her to look at him with a little more 
 Attention ; upon which fhe plainly, with an extream 
 Joy, diftinguiih'd him, notwithstanding the Diiguize 
 of his Habit ; but as ihe perceiv'd that fome of the 
 By-ftanders near him, would needs officiouily oblige 
 him to reftore the Nofegay to whom it belong'd,, 
 and that he, on his part, prepar'd to give them very 
 rough Returns, ihe call'd out to them that he íhould 
 be let alone with it, and that the Nofegay was fallen into 
 good Hands. This pacified the Matter; and the 
 happy Ozmin, in quiet Poffeflion of fuch a Favour, 
 ty'd it by way of Gallantry in his Hat, fomething in 
 the manner of a Plume of Feathers. Dar axa, having 
 thus got Sight of him again, mov'd not her Eyes one 
 Moment off from him, was continually attentive on all 
 his Motions, and mightily delighted her felf with this 
 Accident of the Nofegay, as perceiving how much 
 it had pleas'd her Dear Lover. He no fooner turn'd 
 his Eyes upon her, but ihe began to make Signs to 
 him, which is a filent Language very common among 
 the Moors , and which the Spaniards have fin ce learnd 
 of them, as they likewiie did their Sports of Carrou- 
 fels or Turnaments, Military Dances, and all the 
 reft of their Gallantries : Oz,min replied to her in the 
 fame manner, none obferving them, every Body be- 
 ing fo intent upon the Sports. Nor was there any 
 likelihood that any Body íhould once imagine that 
 the beautiful Moor, with all her DiicJain and Infenfi- 
 bility, íhould have found, among the Throng of the 
 Populace, an Object worthy of her Heart ; and yet 
 it prov'd fo, and what intirely took up her whole 
 Mind. Little did ihe exped, that this Feftival íhould 
 produce fo happy Moments for her -, but ihe had 
 
 paid 
 
Book I. cf Guzman d' Alfarachei 1 3 3 
 
 paid dear for them, by the Fright given her by the 
 furious Bull • and yet ihe had (till more to fuffer, for 
 Love kept further Troubles in ftore for her. She was 
 not to begin to find it, till that after the Sports of the 
 Cuadrillo s, the laft Bull was let loofc, which was to 
 conclude the Sports and Feftival. There was pre- 
 fently a very great Noife, Hurry and Diforder in the 
 Square ; for this Creature was at leaft as terrible as 
 that which had been kilfd by Qz,min. Fear and Ter- 
 ror began to feize again upon Daraxa, who knew 
 her Lover to be of a Temper, fcorning to retire like 
 ib many others, but who would on the contrary, 
 tho' on Foot, give Proof of his Valour and AddreU. 
 She was already frozen by her Fears ; and looking 
 upon him after a manner that fufficiently ihew'd the 
 difquiet of her Mind, ihe made Signs to him to get 
 upon a Scaffold that was juft by ; but whether he did ■ 
 not or would not understand her, he ilir'd not from 
 his Place ; at which ilie iuffer'd an extremity of 
 Dread. Don Rodrigo de Padilla, Don Juan de Caftro y 
 Don Alovfo, and divers others, who had already fig- 
 nalizd themielves on Horfeback, were alighted, re- 
 folv'd in a youthful Emulation to ihew their Valour 
 and Dexterity with their Swords, and on Foot. But 
 one of them, whom this furious Beaft had made to 
 try the Temper of his Horns, was already carried out: 
 or the Field difabled, and half dead. This had ibmc- 
 what moderated the Ardour of the reft. This mighty 
 and raging Creature was got into the midfi of the 
 enclos'd Area, roaring moit hideoufly, tearing up 
 the Earth with his Feet, and looking fiercely round 
 him, as if threatning all in the uncertainty on whom 
 to vent his Rage. Don Alonfo, who, at the hazard of 
 his Life, was defirous of doing fome brave Exploit 
 in the Prefence of Daraxa, took this Opportunity to 
 
 fet near her Balcony, to be the more within her 
 iew. He found there a Man all alone by himfelf, 
 Who • feern'd to him wholly unconcern'^, or at leaft 
 
 K 3 ^-1 
 
ï 34 The Life and Anions Part I\ 
 
 did not appear to have any great Fear of the Bull* 
 He beheld him with ibrne Attention ; and above all, 
 he look'd moil earneitly upon the Nofegay that he 
 had in his Hat ; which, by the Ribbons inter- 
 spersed with the Flowers/ feerrfdto him to be the very 
 lame he had fent but that fame Day to the lovely 
 Moor. ; for tho' it were now Night, yet the Place 
 was fô enlightned with Multitudes of Flambeaux, that 
 it was as bright as Day ; and the Ribbons were fo 
 eafy to be diitinguiûYd by their Colours and by their 
 Richnefs, that it was fcarce poilible to be miftaken 
 in jt. This furpriz'd him extreamly, and made him 
 advance towards him to be the more certain, and to 
 fee at lefs diftance what fort of Man it might be. 
 He found there was no doubt but 'twas the fame 
 Nofegay; and as to the Man, he faw he had a fierce- 
 nefs in his AfpeA, but that elfe, from his Equipage, 
 he did not feemof a Rank much better than the vulgar 
 fort. He knew not what Conftru&ion to make 
 ont, nor was able to comprehend how that Nofegay 
 could come into fuch Hands. At laft growing im- 
 patient about it, and eager to inform himfelf, com- 
 ing up within five or fix Paces of him, and looking 
 very difcontentedly at him ; Friend, faid he to him, 
 Where had you that Nofegay ? Where had I it ? re- 
 plied Ozmin, without any Concern, tho' he rightly 
 guefs'd at the very Inltant, what Intereil he that 
 ipoke to him might have in it ; it came to me from a 
 good Hand, but I owe it to Fortune. I know well 
 enough from what Hand it came, replied Don Alonfo, 
 beginning to grow a little warm, to fee himfelf 
 treated with no more Rcfpect. by fuch a fort of Man ; 
 but be it by whatever Chance or other Thing come 
 to your Hands, take the Pains to deliver it up to me, 
 for it was not made for you. You ask a little too 
 much, anfwer'd Oz,m'm 3 ftill with the fame Coldneis 
 and Indifference. No more of your difputing, faid 
 Don Akjifoy briskly interrupting him ¿ either give 
 
 me 
 
Boo Je I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. * 3 5 
 
 me the Nofegay quickly, or I ill all make you know 
 whom you have to do with. I am lorry, replied 
 Qzanin, that we are not in a Place proper for it. 
 What do you mean by that ? faid Don Alovfo, again 
 interrupting him : I mean, anfwer'd Oztnin, with a 
 Voice iome what more rais'd, That any where out of the 
 Kings Prefcnce, fo far from giving you up this 
 Noiegay, T would force from you that Knot of Rib- 
 bons you wear. It was the very fame Knot Djraxa had 
 given Don sil;.vfo, when ihe receiv'd him to be her 
 Champion, and that Ozwiji had formerly given to 
 Daraxa ; fo that he no fooner caft his Eye upon it, 
 but he knew it again ; and therefore no longer doubt- 
 ed but that this was one of his Rivals, and one of 
 the molt favour'd of them : He flood in need of all 
 his Judgment and Moderation, to help to reilrain the 
 impetuolity of his Tranfport. Don Jlonfo, whoiè 
 Temper was not lefs violent, quite lofing all Pa- 
 tience, and no longer able to reftrain his Paiîion, 
 feeing himfelf menaced by fuch a fort of Man $ In- 
 folent, laid he to him, is it fit you ihould thus forget 
 the Refpedt due to a Perfonof my Quality ? and at the 
 fame time, he thruft among the Ribbons of his Nofe- 
 gay a Batoon that he had in his Hand, being one of 
 thofe that the Cavaliers make uic of to provoke and 
 irritate the Bulls ; and he had certainly carried off 
 Noiegay and Hat together, if he had had to do with 
 a Man of lefs Vigour, Nimblenefs and Addrefs, than 
 Ozwln ; who feizingrhe Batoon, wrenclfd it initant- 
 ly by main Force out of his Hand. Don Jlonfo, in 
 the utmoft Rage at fuch an Affront in Prefence of 
 his Miítreís, and even before the King himfelf, was 
 no longer Mafter of his Paffion ; but without any 
 Regard to the Prince of their Majefties, or any- 
 thing elfe; drawinîfhis Sword, he was defperately 
 throwing himfelf upon a Man, who ítoód prepar'd to 
 receive him, in a fierce undaunted manner, when the 
 pull came upon them, and parted chem dc wfcat 
 
 & 4 .1,', 
 
ïjtf The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 could. All the Misfortune fell upon Don Alonfo ; 
 Who, by one Tofs, was thrown five or fix Paces off, 
 and receiv'd a dangerous Wound in his Thigh. The 
 Beaft became more furious than ever, at the Sight of 
 the Blood that flow'd from the Wound, and prepar'd 
 for a fécond Attack, which mirft needs have been fatal to 
 this young Gentleman. Mo Body ftir'd to help him, 
 whatever the King faid to them, becaufe 'twas in a 
 Place where 'twas difficult to get at the Beaft, with- 
 put being fo fhut up from all Help, or Means of efca- 
 ping, as was a manifeft expofing the Life of any that 
 Ihould be raih enough to attempt it. But Oxm'm, 
 who yet had leis Reafon than any to render him fuch 
 Service, after what had pafs'd between them, by an 
 excels of Generofity, worthy the gallant Courages 
 and noble Minds of the Knights of thofe Times, 
 without any Regard to their particular Quarrel, or 
 to any other Reafon that might fet him againft him, 
 runs upon this wild Creature the very Moment that 
 he was coming at Don AhnÇo, and puiliing him in at 
 vicient manner with the fame Batoon he had taken 
 from Don Alonfo, he made the fierce Animal turn 
 ihort upon him with greater Rage than ever; but the 
 Moment he bent down his Head, to make his Adver- 
 fary repent of his Raihnefs, Ozjn'vn took his Aim fb 
 well, and fo well knew the Metal and Temper of 
 . ^ Sword, that giving him a back Stroak with his 
 whole Strength, and luckily hitting him on the join- 
 ing of the Head and Neck, he laid him dead upon 
 the Spot. Never was Aftoniíhment equal to that of 
 the whole ^ffembly, at fo Terrible, and yet fo For- 
 tunate a Srhoak. What had been done by the un- 
 known Knignt of the Blue Scarf, was almoft nothing 
 now, compar'd to what was drcie by this. For be- 
 iides the difadv^ntage of a Marron Foot, the nicety 
 of the ' Conjun&ure, the fituation of the place, the 
 feeming inevitable Danger on all Hands, all confpir'd 
 to render this Aétion more Shining and more Glo- 
 rious ^ 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarachc. i 3 7 
 
 riouj ,• and the Acclamations for it, wherewith the 
 Feaft concluded, were alfo of much longer conti- 
 nuance. But Oz.min, not much toucrTd at all theie 
 Praifes and Acclamations, only fought to retire him- 
 ielf as foon as poifible, to avoid the Curiofity of In- 
 quirers, and not to be conftrain'd to appear before 
 the King. The King indeed ask'd for him, but he 
 was already oïfappear'd, and none could be found 
 that knew him, or could give any Tidings of him. 
 Neverthelefs, as he had been obferv'd to talk with 
 Don Alonfo 3 and that their Converfation, according 
 to what could be difcern'd of it, feem'd to have been 
 hot and angry, and to have proceeded fo far as to an 
 abfolute Quarrel, and to be ready to Fight when the 
 Bull came upon them, it waspreium'd that Don Alonfo 
 muft needs know him; but the whole Court was like- 
 wife curious to be inform'd from whence their Quar- 
 rel might arife. Don Alonfo was at that time in no 
 Condition of giving any manner of Account ; his 
 Wound was not mortal, but it was deep and dange- 
 rous, and he had loft abundance of Blood. Their 
 Çathoîkk Majeíties were concern'd at fo ill an Acci- 
 dent, from the Love they had for this young Lord ; 
 and they had caus'd him to be carried into an Appart- 
 ient near their Perfons, and order'd him to be at- 
 tended by their own Surgeons, that fo their Majefties 
 might be the more fecure that all due Care was taken 
 of him, and might have a continual Account how it 
 went with him. 
 
 I have been unwilling thus far to break the Order 
 of my Story ; but I now think 'tis high time to tell 
 you fome News of the paiîionate Daraxa : I have al- 
 ready defcrib'd her of a Chara&er too fenfible, as to 
 all things relating to her dear-lov'd Lover, for you 
 not to have told your felf, at lead fome part of the 
 Pain, the Diforder, and the almoft Defpair fhe felt, 
 as well for the Quarrel íhe law rifing between thefe 
 two Rivals upon her Account, as alio for the Dan» 
 
 ger 
 
ïgS The Zife and Aiïiovs Part Î. 
 
 ger to which O&imn expos'd himfelf now the fécond 
 time. She had not been able to diftinguiih. their 
 whole Talk, but ilie had well underftood the gi^ater 
 part of it, and that their Quarrel happend upon oc~ 
 calion of the Nofegay. She was almoft upon the 
 very Point of opening the whole Matter to the 
 King, to prevent their coming to Extremities ; and 
 though it muil have coil her Lover his Liberty, yet 
 Itill his Imprifonment would be a leffer Evil than his 
 Death. But the dreadful Fright the Bull gave her 
 when fhe faw him coming on with fo much Fury, 
 and perceiv'd him got fo near the gallant Rivals, To 
 totally feiz'd her, that fhe became not only Speech- 
 lefs, and thereby unable to apply to the King, but fhe 
 was almoft utterly depriv'd of Senfe and Motion. She 
 remain'd in this cruel Agony till the raging Beaft 
 was kill'd. What ike had fuffer'd at the Attack of 
 the firft Bull, was nothing in comparifon to the vio- 
 lent Agitations of her Spirits at the light of this; be- 
 caufe, in reality, the Danger of Qz,m'm was far 
 greater. The Example of Don Alonfo had fo terrify d 
 and amaz'd her, that fhe was quite befide her lelf. 
 In fine, it was altogether imponible to purchafe, at; 
 a dearer Rate than ilie had done, the fweet Tran- 
 iports of Joy that fhe felt at the firft for the arrival, 
 and at the light of her Lover. But this is the com- 
 mon Cuftom of Love ; and after this manner it takes 
 a Pride and Pleafure toTirannize over Flearts fubjeel 
 to its Empire, driving em to continual Extremities 
 $f all kinds, and almoft every Moment. 
 
 Donna Ehira de PaMIla, Daughter of Don Levm, and 
 the particular Friend of Daraxa, was in the fame Bal- 
 cony with her, and had feen the whole of the Ad- 
 venture of the Nofegay. As that Accident, and the 
 Difpute between Don Alonfo and that unknown Per- 
 fon, had happen'd juft under em ; and that, at leaft, 
 they were the neareft to the Spot; the Queen, 
 as curious and as impatient as any body to know how 
 
 u 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 1 3^ 
 
 it was, quickly inquired of them the Particulars of 
 it. D.rraxa, as moil concenfd, judg'd it molt pro r 
 per to let her Friend fpeak, and Hie very innocently 
 and freely related the whole Matter, or fo much of 
 it, as leaít, as came within her Knowledge • which 
 was, that me took it to be upon occalion of a Nofe- 
 g&y that Don Ahmfo had preiented to Daraxa, and 
 which, happening to fall out of her Hand, had been 
 taken up by that Man, who had thought fit to grace 
 himfelf, by placing it on his Hat ■■, that Don Alonfo be- 
 ing thereupon come thither, and recollecting the 
 Nofegay, was poííibly difgufted at it, and went 
 about to take it from him ; but that me had not 
 heard any of their Talk. The Queen was but half 
 fatished with this Account ; and Don Alonfo, from 
 whom it was hoped the reft might be known, was no 
 fooner in a condition of receiving aVifit, but ílie lent 
 the Marquis of A (torgas to him. The Marquis, tho' 
 in his declining Years, was yet a Man of a pleafant 
 facetious Humour, and would commonly Laugh and 
 Rally with the young Lords. Well, my Lord, iaid 
 he to Don Alonfo as he enter'd his Chamber, What 
 think you now, you Knight without Fear, concern- 
 ing thefe horn'd Animals, that pitilefs and regardlefs 
 of iuch fine Sparks as you, who add luch Numbers 
 to their Fraternity, come and gore you unmercifully 
 when you think" leaft of it ? What Gallantries are 
 thefe ! You will allow me, that thefe are but aTcur- 
 vy fort of Beaits, and that the fporting with em is 
 but an odd kind of Diverfion.. It is a long time, my 
 .Lord Marquis, replied Don Alonfo fmiling, fince you 
 have been able to give a better Account of thefe 
 Things than I can. You fay true, replied the Mar- 
 quis, 'tis indeed a long time fince, to my great Re- 
 gret. But Ralle ry apart, added he, in a much gra- 
 ver Tone, will you not tell us who this Knight of 
 the Daring Sword is, who deliver'd you from íó 
 near and great an Extremity as that we faw you in : 
 
 For 
 
140 The Life an J Anions Part I. 
 
 For one may truly fay, he faved your Life, and that 
 not one of all the Hero s of our Court was enough 
 your Friend to difpute that Honour with him ; and 
 yet they fay, you were juft upon the point of play- 
 ing at Cut-Throats with him. I know better than 
 any body, anfwer'd Don Alonfo, what he has done for 
 me, and the little Caufe I had given him to fhow 
 me fo great an Inftance of his Generofity; but all 
 that I can fay more, added he, is only that I know 
 him not ; that I am fo charm'd with his Bravery, and 
 with his whole Procedure with me, that I think he 
 far tranfcends the higheft Pitch of Generofity, and 
 that I ihall efteem my felf the molt unfortunate of 
 all Men, unlefs I can one Day find an Opportunity 
 to convince him of my Gratitude. The Marquis 
 thereupon let him know, that he was fent on the 
 Part of the Queen, who was defirous of knowing 
 more of the Matter, than that which he had told 
 him ; that they were already pretty nearly inftru&ed 
 as to the fubje<5l of their Quarrel ; that Donna Elvira. 
 and the beautiful Moor had inform'd the Queen fo far; 
 and that all the Court, and even the King himfelf, 
 were in an extream Surprize, that there had pafs'd, 
 during the late folemn Sports, two fo extraordinary 
 A&ions as thoie they had ieen ; and that both of em 
 had been done each by a feveral Man, ( for no body 
 imagin'd they had both been done by one and the 
 fame Hand ) who had been both of 'em as careful to 
 conceal themfelves, as commonly others are to ap- 
 pear, and accept the Glory and Recompenfe fo juft- 
 \y their Due; and above all, as to the lait of the two, 
 he> was not iuppos'd to be a Man of any confider- 
 able Value. 'Tis true, faid Don Ahnfo, interrupting 
 him, if we form our Judgment by Drefs and Habit, 
 as at firil I did, and 'twas therein I was miftaken ; 
 but whoever he is, he is a valiant Man, and I can 
 tell you no more than what thole Ladies faw,for that's 
 the utmoft I know of it. The Marquis finding he 
 
 could( 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 1 4 1 
 
 could be no further inform'd, took his Leave of the 
 wounded young Lord , and return'd to give the 
 Queen an Account of what he had done. 'Twas be- 
 lieved at Court, that there was fomething of Myfte- 
 ry in all this, and that it was by a reciprocal Gene- 
 rofity that Don Alonfo would no further explain him- 
 ielf concerning this unknown Gentleman; but Daraxa, 
 neverthelefs, was fufpe&ed to be fome way or other 
 privy to the Matter; and the Concern that had been 
 obferved in her, was afcribed to the Part Ihe took 
 in the Misfortune of Don Alonfo ; which was admit- 
 ted to be reaibnable enough, he being her particular 
 Knight, and one of the handfomeft young Lords at 
 Court, and who pailionately lov'd her. She enjoy 'd 
 in private the undivided Pleafure of this whole Hi- 
 ftory, that none knew better, nor but one fo well as 
 ihe; but this Pleafure was not without Inquietude. 
 She had over-heard what Oz,min had faid to Don 
 Alonfo about that Knot of Ribbons ihe had given him. 
 She knew the particular Character of her Lover, and 
 the general Temper of the Moors, nice to an Excels 
 upon Occafions of this kind. She condemn'd her felf 
 of Wcaknefs, or of Imprudence at leaft, in not ha- 
 ving given to Den Alonfo almoft any thing, rather 
 than what had been given her by io dear a Hand. 
 She was unable to comfort her felf under the Senfe 
 of this Fault, fince her Lover would always have 
 grounds to reproach her with it, even tho' he ihould 
 be convine'd after what manner it was done ; and 
 tho' he ihould be perfwaded, that there was not the 
 leaft Imputation could be juftlycharg'd upon her. She 
 was quite at a Lofs how to retrieve her felf from 
 the Miichiefs confequent to this Error; and ihe 
 felt an inconceivable Anguiih from her afflicting 
 Thoughts about it. She would fain have writ to 
 him ; but what poflibility of finding out a Man, 
 whole Bulinefs it was to conceal himíelf, eipecially 
 in Sévit, and amidit the Crowds and Coniufions that 
 
 then 
 
142 The Life and ARions Part I. 
 
 then fill'd it ? And who could fhe make ufe of upon 
 fuch a Nicety ? Not one of her four Moorifi Women 
 could fpeak Spanijli enough to make an Inquiry ; and 
 beiides, they \v4tt no more permitted to ftir out of 
 the Palace than ihe was. Her whole Hopes center 'd 
 at laft upon the Diligence her Lover himfelf would 
 doubtlefs exert, to find out fome way of Intercourfe 
 between them ; not but ihe forefaw, even in this, 
 abundance of Difficulty from the very great constraint 
 and refervednefs obferv'd in that Court in all manner 
 of Converfation ; but ihe rely'd upon the Love and 
 Management of Oz,min. She pafs'd fome Days in 
 thefe kind of melancholy Mufings ; which, in the 
 midft of the Satisfaction fhe took, in knowing that 
 her Lover and her felf were both in the fame City, 
 were not wanting fometimes to fill her Mind with io 
 much Trouble and Impatience for not hearing from 
 him, as almoft diftracled her ; when at lait, one E- 
 veriing, as fhe was walking in the Upper-Garden- 
 with Donna Ehira, expe&ing the Return of the King, 
 who, with all the Court, was gone a Hunting, ihe 
 met with what ihe io much wiih'd for, the dear De- 
 light of her Eyes and Heart. In all probability you 
 Know the manner of the Gardens of the Palace of 
 Sev'd, and the diftinftion of the Upper and Lower- 
 Garden. 'Tis nothing elfe but two Gardens, one 
 above another, after the Moúrijh Faíhion ; as is alfo 
 the Palace it felf, an Edifice of theirs. The Lower- 
 Garden is the larger, and as to the Upper, which is 
 fupported upon Arches, and ranges even with the 
 firft Floor, it is, properly fpeaking, no more than an 
 open Terrafs of Walks, Flowers and Grafs-Plots. 
 The firft was only for Men, but yet fuch as were be- 
 longing to the Court had only the Privilege of being 
 admitted into it, and that too but at certain Times ; 
 as in the Evenings, and when the King was in the 
 Palace. The Upper-Garden was referv'd for the 
 Ladies of the Q¿irt, who came conftantly to Walk 
 
 iberg 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarachc. 145 
 
 there in the Evenings, to ihew themfelves to the 
 Lords, and fomctimes even to difcourib with them 
 over the BalluflraJe, which runs quite along this Gar- 
 den, and is about Elbow high ; but this was never 
 done but when the King and Queen were Abfent, 
 for in their Prefence none but the Language of 
 Signs was fuffer'd. Gentlemen had the Permillion of 
 Singing there, even in Prefence of their Majefties, 
 provided it were fome fine Voice, and that there was 
 fomething new and uncommon in the Air and Words. 
 There was alio at Times, fome little Entertainments 
 of Inftrumental Mulick in Concert, but then it mult 
 be always done by thofe of the Court, and but a few 
 at a Time ; for nothing would be fuffer'd there but 
 what was nice and delicate to the utmoft. Daraxa, 
 having then flipt away from the Queen, to divert 
 her felf a-while in this Garden with Donna Elvira, 
 they had fcarce taken two Turns before they heard a 
 Man's Voice finging. It at firft furpriz'cl them at 
 little, becaufe it was unufual to let any Body into the 
 Lower-Garden when the King was not in the Palace, 
 but the Voice feem'd to them to be extreamly moving. 
 They were both at once Curious to know who it 
 was, and to get nearer to hear him ; but being unwil- 
 ling to be feen, they got behind the Orange-Trees 
 that grow along the Balluftrade, and ftole foftly on till 
 they were juft over-againft the Singer. Then they 
 chofe each a Tree, thro' which they might fee and 
 hear at Pleafure, without any fear of being difco- 
 ver'd. Donna Elvira thought him to be a Gentleman 
 extreamly handfome, and of a noble Mien. As for 
 Daraxa, I need but tell you 'twas her Dear Oz,min. 
 He was fet down upon a Bank of Turf under a 
 Covert of agréable Verdures ; and leaning his Head 
 againit a Tree in a negligent Poiture, fung the fol- 
 lowing Words in SpaMiJh : 
 
 Cruel 
 
144 The Life and Afiicns Part L 
 
 Cruel relentltjs Jealoufy, 
 
 Freezing Effet! of hot Defire, 
 Wilt thou extinguijh thy Parental Fire, 
 Tier ring my Heart •with flinging Cruelty ? 
 
 Ahfence alone is juch an III, 
 As "without other Plagues can un-affifled kill. 
 Without her Love, her Prefence cannot Cave, 
 But Ahfence, tho' belovd, would Jink me to the Grave» 
 
 Among many Excellencies of our Uluftrious Moor¡ 
 that of Singing finely was none of the leaft Ornamen- 
 tal, and few could exceed him in it ; yet he took as 
 much Care to conceal it, as others do to Pride them- 
 fèlves in it. As it was very common to fpeak good 
 Spanijh at the Court of Granada, ib they were alfo 
 very fond of Singing in that Language, and efteem'd 
 it even better fuited to Grave and Lofty Airs, than 
 their own Morifco. Nay, there were divers Moon 
 ib excellently skill'd in the Spanifi Tongue, that they 
 made Verfes in it, which were even approv'd and ad- 
 mired by the Caftilian Poets. The Words that Oa> 
 min fung, were made by one of thofe Moors, as they 
 were likewife fet to Mufick by another Moor ; in 
 which they were alfo excellent at the Court of the 
 Moorijh King. Daraxa fail'd not to make the Appli- 
 cation to her felf, plainly difcerning it was inten- 
 ded for her. She was willing to take hold of the 
 Î>refent Opportunity, to make fome fort of Reply < 
 b taking a Book out of her Pocket, ihe tore out a 
 Leaf, and with a Pencil wrote thefe Words : 
 
 <c No more Uneafinefs about the Knot of Ribbons^ 
 ct the Heart had no Concern in't ; for a Heart of 
 ?' Daraxa's Frame, loves but once in its Life-time ; 
 " and what it fixes upon, for the Obje& of its Love, 
 (c it loves too well to admit of another. Be prerfwa- 
 c * ded of it ; and if you would know more, Laida 
 %i ihall attend at the Palace-Gate to morrow Morning 
 " at 9 a-Clock. Adieu- Having 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 145 
 
 Having written thefe Words, ihe fofty roll'd up 
 the Leaf, and let it drop down into the Lower Gar- 
 den, thro' the Boughs of the Orange-Tree that con- 
 ceal'd her. After this, whatever Pleafure ihe took in 
 the Sight of her Lover, ihe was very willing to quit 
 the Place and be gone, for fear of fome ill Confe- 
 quence ; but Donna Ehira, who underftood Singing, 
 and fung well enough her felf ; and who alfo was 
 charm'd with fo fine a Voice,, and an Air quite new to 
 her, which feem'd to her to have fomething fo very 
 Tender and Paifionate, was not yet ready to leave 
 the Place. In vain her Friend beckon'd to her to come 
 away ; 'twas to no purpofe ; ihe would not mind her. 
 The Gentleman had no / fooner done his Song, but 
 ihe call'd to him behind her Tree, Once again, for 
 the Ladies fake ; and ihe had without doubt made 
 him go on to a Third, but for a great Noife they 
 heard from the Palace, by which they prefently un- 
 derftood the King was return'd from Hunting. This 
 put them in mind, that it concernd them to retire 
 inftantly, to the great Regret of Donna Elvira, who 
 was in Pain to guefs who this Man could be, who 
 had fo uncommon a Manner, and fung fo well, and 
 whom ihe had never feen at Court. She talk'd of him 
 twenty times that Night' to Daraxa 3 or rather ihe 
 talk'd of nothing elfe ío long as they were together. 
 Ozmin had that Day put himfelf in the Equipage of 
 a Man of Quality, to get admittance into the Gar- 
 den. He had been inform'd by OrvieJo, that the 
 King was going to Hunt ; and he thought it a fit time 
 for him to try if his good Fortune would bring Da- 
 raxa thither to Walk, as by chance it fell out. But 
 after all, he \rttis refus'd to be admitted into the Gar- 
 den, till he made ufe of the Mediation of Money, 
 that powerful Engine that opens every Door, He 
 had already taken lèverai Turns in the Walks, when 
 he faw theie two Ladies come out of the Palace into 
 the Upper Garden j ; and 'twas only to draw them 
 
 L over 
 
1^6 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 over to that fide next him, that put him upon, Sing- 
 ing. Donna Elvira had fo little obferv'd him at the 
 Bull-Fights, that having chang'd his Drefs, and ma- 
 king a quite different Appearance., it had been next 
 to impoflible for her to recollect him. Daraxa, as ihe 
 hailily retired from her Poil in the Garden, having 
 made him a Sign to be gone alfo, he guefs'd prefently 
 what the matter was, and taking up the Leaf ihe had 
 let fall to him, he foon left the*Place, raviih'd with 
 Joy that his Defign had fo well fucceeded, and that 
 he now knew how and where to apply himfelf when 
 Occafions fairly prefente d. He read his Miilrefs's Billet 
 with a World of Pieaiiire, and fail'd not to fend 
 uwiedo the next Morning, who accordingly met 
 Laida at the Hour and Place appointed. This was 
 one of Baraxas Moorijl) Women, and had the greateft 
 Share of her good Opinion. She was cover'd with a 
 great black Veil to hinder her being known, but as 
 foon as fhe faw Orviedo, ihe knew him ; and going to 
 him, gave him a Letter for his Mailer, and receiv'd 
 one from him for her Lady. They had together 
 a Converfation long enough, to furniih them with 
 fufficient Matter to gratify both the Lovers at their 
 Return. Ozmins Letter was full of Compliments,, 
 Daraxa'soÇ Juitifications; but all was appeas'd. There 
 is fo little Pleafure in being at odds with what we 
 Love, that we get reconcil'd as foon as poffible. 'Tis 
 true, there is a fort of Rellifh in the Quarrels of Lo- 
 vers, provided they are foon at an Endj if long con- 
 tinued, they lofe their grateful Tail: Nor, if pofîi- 
 b3e, îhould they be reviv'd too frequently, for that 
 often breeds ill Blood, and is apt to produce very 
 bad Effects. * 
 
 This Commerce by Letter, thus regulated without 
 Danger, was no flight Confolation to our two Lo- 
 vers, and as Ferdinand lov'd Hunting, and us'd it pretty 
 frequently, he was no iboner gone, but Oz,min had 
 ié was careful to improve the Opportunity. 
 
 ' ' Dar axa 
 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 147 
 
 Daraxa would gladly have gone alone to meet him, 
 to have talk'd with him with the greater Freedom ; 
 but it had been a Courfe fubje&ed to a World of 
 Rifque, and liable to many Sufpicions; both of them 
 muft have been inevitably loft, had they chane'd to 
 be difcover'd. And Donna Elvira made it ftill more 
 difficult and dangerous • for the Sight and Voice of 
 this Stranger had already made no fmall Impreflion 
 on her Heart; fo that ihe ardently defir'd to fee him 
 again, after having in vain fought for him among 
 all that frequented the Court. She therefore never 
 fail'd, thofe Evenings the King was abfent, to go 
 and propofe to her Friend to walk in the Garden, 
 and fee if the Gentleman that fung fo finely could 
 be met there again. Daraxa was eafily perfwaded to 
 have this Complaifance for her, in a thing ihe alio 
 equally defir'd. They found him in the fame Place as 
 at firft. Donna Elvira would needs be feen by him, 
 and talk with him ; and oblig'd her Friend to do fo 
 too. Ozmin feem'd at firft furpriz'd to fee them, and 
 made a feint of a refpeâful Retiring ; but Donna El- 
 vira beginning a Difcourfe to retain him, he enter'd 
 with them into an agreeable and fpritely Conver- 
 fation, but ftill as a Stranger, with two Unknown: 
 Ladies. His natural readinefs of Thought, and Pre- 
 fence of Mind, flood him in mighty ftead - 3 and 
 Donna Elvira, animated with more than common 
 Warmth, was not wanting to fhew the quicknefs of her 
 Wit in all its full Extent. Daraxa only diverted her 
 felf, as one at eafe, and fatisfied. All was fparkling 
 and pleafant on all Sides ; and every Body pleas'd in 
 General, and in Particular. Time thus fpent, paifes 
 but too iwiftr«| at leaf!:, it appear'd that thefe Ladies 
 did not find it tedious, and that they were not weary 
 of this Gentleman's Company ; for the King was al- 
 ready come back, and got into the Palace, while 
 they ftill continued the Converfation, not once fo 
 much as thinking of retiring. They had without 
 
 L z doubt 
 
1 48 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 doubt been furpriz d, had not the Gardiner come to 
 Ozmin, and put him in Mind 'twas time to leave the 
 Garden. Of Neceility they mint part ; but Donna 
 Ehlra made a Bargain ñríl with the unknown Gen- 
 tleman for another Meeting., the firft fine Day that 
 •ihould call the King forth to Hunting. Donn.v Elvira was 
 now fo fill'd with the Idea of this unknown Spark., 
 fo pleas'd with his Wit and Merit, upon this Conver- 
 sation, that having taken Leave of him, ihe could 
 not refrain telling her Friend, that in her whole Life 
 ihe had never met with a Man fo charming. To any 
 other tfyan Daraxa, it had been taking* too much Li- 
 berty .to have faid fo much;; but me fa w fo little 
 ground for any Apprehenfion of Danger, that it only 
 fery'd to divert her. She had the Pleafure, without 
 any Care on 'her Part, of being îéntertain'd from 
 Morning till Night with perpetual JDiicourfes about 
 her Lover ; and Donna Elvira, who had a very great 
 Confidence in her, and thought her the m©ft infenfible 
 Creature in the whole World, no longer conceal'd from 
 her, that ihe found her felf touclvd by the Merits of 
 this unknown Gentleman, and that ihe was willing 
 to find out who he was, and for what Reafon a Man 
 of his Sort ihould never come to Court : Nay, ihe 
 even earneftly beiought her, to inquire theiè Parti- 
 culars of him the next time they ihould meet him. 
 Daraxa acquainted Ozmin with all thefe notable Mat- 
 and warn'd him to guard his Heart ; telling 
 him withal, it would be ill to abufe the Credulity 
 and miitakenPaiîî on of fo fine á young Lady; but that it 
 would.be nil] more unworthy in him, ihould he make 
 the léaít Breach by any Infidelity, in an Amour fo 
 circumftantiated as theirs, and eftarmih'd by length 
 of Time and fo many powerful Rxafons; that it cori- 
 cerri'd him to acquit himfelf with Honour ; that in 
 fc .lice a PaijSon as that of Love, even bare Appear- 
 ances were fomjetimes enough to make dangerous Im- 
 jprei 3.6ns '\ and' that Vmen one is in poífeíffon of the 
 * " : Heart, 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 145» 
 
 Heart, one would be in full poiïeflïon of all. Ox.min 
 verily thought his Miftrefs meant no more than to 
 divert her lelf, and. therefore replied in a ftrain of 
 Pleafantry, intending- to laugh as well as ihe. But 
 the next time he met the Ladies again, to Revengo 
 himfelf for the Rallery, he employ'd his utmoit Force 
 of foft and tender Courtfhip upon Donna 'Elvira» 
 The Battery was not made in vain : She receiv'd all 
 his Careifes in the moft fenfible manner ; and this in- 
 flam'd Beauty, ravifh'd with his feeming Tráníports, 
 return'd them double upon him. But at lait he was 
 interrogated about the Condition and Quality of his 
 Birth and Fortune. He replied, He was a Gentle- 
 man of Arragon^ that his Name was Jayme Vives • and 
 that having been taken by the Moors, and fet at liber- 
 ty by the Capitulation of Baz,a, he expe&ed Remit- 
 tance from his Family, to enable him to put himièif 
 into an Equipage fit to appear at Court, and make 
 himfelf known. This was a ihort and plaulible Ac- 
 count, and was enough in Confcience for Donna E/- 
 ffïra, who fail'd not to inquire if there was a Family 
 in Arragon of the Name of Vives ; and ihe learn 'éj 
 with an extream Satisfaction, that it was one of the 
 moft illuftrious and moft ancient Houfes of that 
 Kingdom. 
 
 This Intrigue continued for fome time, but as ths 
 Paflion of Donna Elvira was every Day increafing, 
 our two Lovers grew afraid it would at laft piovq 
 troublefome to them. 0%,m\n no fooner perceiv'd 
 that Donna Elvira's Paflion was in earneft, but he care- 
 fully avoided whatever might give the leaft Difquiet 
 to his Miftrefs ; and except fuch Decencies and Ci- 
 vilities, from which a Man of his fort could not ab- 
 ftain towards a Lady of lier Merit and Quality, he 
 could not contribute lefs to her Paflion than he did- 
 But Donna. Elvira took fire of her felf. Dar ay. a y tho r 
 nice enough upon thefe Points, could not find ihe 
 fiad any Canfe. to complain of her Lover upon thii 
 
 1 j He?d- 
 
150 The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 Head. She pitied her Friend, and would glady have 
 tmdeceiv'd her , and that, as much in Generofity, as 
 for the Quiet and Intereft of her own Love ; but ihe 
 believ'd her Advices would be ill receiv'd, and fhe 
 was fearful to expofe her felf, by infpiring her with 
 Sentiments of Jealoufy, needlefs and dangerous for 
 her to give her. She at laft concluded, that in the 
 Condition of her Fortune, ihe muft run fome Ad- 
 venture, and not expect to be every way happy. 
 Winter was already pafs'd, and the Spring being a- 
 bout to give another Face to the Affairs at Court, 
 our Lovers muft prepare themfelves for a Change in 
 theirs. Their Catholich Majefties had refolv'd in 
 Council to befiege the City of Granada, and to 
 open the Campaign by fo Glorious an Enterprize. 
 The Moors had fufficiently forefeen it after the Sur- 
 render of Baza, and they were preparing themfelves 
 to do their beft to provide and act for their Defence. 
 There was in the City of Granada, a Gariibn of 
 iyooo Men, of the beft Troops of King Mahomet. 
 Ferdinand was well inform'd of all thefe Things, and 
 like a Wife and Provident Prince, had folicited by 
 his Minifters, and the Pope's Interpofition, all the 
 Chriftian Princes, that mov'd by a Principle of Re- 
 ligion, that they would affift him with their Forces in 
 fo Great and Pious a Defign, as the intirely chafing 
 the Infidels out of Spain, and obliging a good part of 
 them to embrace the Truth. He was aifur'd of the 
 Succours of divers Princes -, he "had daily News, that 
 they were haftening on all Sides to join him ; and 
 thereupon he made ready to begin his March early 
 in the Spring, the better to furprize the Moors, and 
 not give them Time to ftrengthen themfelves yet 
 more. His Troops had Orders to begin to defile by 
 the firft of March. He was to review them the twen- 
 tieth at Alcalarcal, four Leagues from Granada, and 
 the five and twentieth the City was to be inverted, 
 and himfelf to be there in Perfon next Day with his 
 
 whole 
 
Book I. of Guzman cTAlfarache. i § t 
 
 whole Army. The Queen, who plainly perceiv'd 
 that a Siege of this Importance muft needs continue 
 for a confiderable time, took a Refolution to ac- 
 company the King, and pafs the whole Campaign 
 with him. This News being quickly fpread, foon 
 reach'd our Lovers ; who at firft conceiv'd fome fore 
 of Joy at it, as hoping, that in the Hurry and Con- 
 fufion of an Army, they might poflibly find Means, 
 by help of Orviedo, to get into Granada. But their 
 Joy was of a ihort duration ; for fome few Days be- 
 fore the Queen's Departure, Daraxa was told by her 
 Majefty, That fhe was not to have the Fatigue of the 
 Campaign; and that, for avoiding too unneceflary 
 Trouble, thofe Women only, whofe Service was in- 
 diípenfible, ihould attend her during the Campaign; 
 that the Maids of Honour ihould be left at Sevit un- 
 der the Care of their Relations, or of other Perfonsof 
 Confideration, to whofe Tutelage they ihould be re- 
 commended ; that as for Daraxa her ièlf, íhe was to 
 be committed to the Marquis de Padilla. The Queen 
 had made Choice of this Lord for Daraxa, not only 
 becaufe he was one of the Firft Quality at Court, 
 but becaufe he was alfo one of the moft Generous 
 and moft Courtly, and becaufe his Daughter was the 
 particular Friend of this beautiful Moor. She writ all 
 this News to her Lover, exhorting him at the f3ms 
 time, to have Patience to facrifice a little Glory to 
 Love, and not to abandon her, unlefs he had a Mind 
 íhe ihould die .with Grief; bzjnrin having already 
 fignified to her, by his Letters, the Defpair that tor- 
 mented him, becaufe he was not in Granada, that he 
 might there be ferviceable to his King and Coun- 
 try, as his Duty and Honour required. But he 
 had then ítill fome Hopes of getting there time 
 enough. to acquit himfelf as he ought, if his Defign 
 fucceeded ; and if he favv no likelihood of that, yet 
 flill he was upon the Spot, and in a Pofture and Pro* 
 ipe& of throwing himfelf, with Qrvido } into the 
 
 X. 4 ÎÔ 1 
 
ï 5 2 The Ufe and Anions Part I. 
 
 Town. This new Order of the Queen broke all his 
 Meafures, and left him no manner of Hopes. He 
 wasoverwhelm'd with Grief at it, and his Mind flu&ua- 
 ting amidft a Multitude of undetermin'd Thoughts, 
 alternately fuggefte.d by Love and Glory, uncertain 
 where to fix, he felt fuch Tortures, as none but per- 
 fectly noble Hearts can poflibly comprehend. Da- 
 raxa, being inform'd by the Faithful Orviedo of thefe 
 «^racking Inquietudes of her Lover, was extreamly 
 concern'd and alarm' d at it ; and wrote him upon 
 that Subjed feveral Letters, fo paiEonate and mo- 
 ving, that at laft fhe fix'd his hurried convuls'd 
 Thoughts upon the firm Bafis of unalterable Love. 
 Thus runs one of thofe extraordinary Letters, by 
 which you may form a fufficient Judgment of the 
 reft. 
 
 iC They tell me^ û&mn, you refolve to grieve 
 cc your lelf to Death , becaufe of your Abfence 
 cc from Granada. Be gone, be gone, your Heart is 
 " made for Glory, not for Love. I can Die too, 
 <c and of Grief as you do ; but then I fhall have the 
 tc Regret of Dying for an ungrateful Man, that aban- 
 fC dons me when I want him moil. Came you to 
 <c Sevil, only to flab my Heart with fo great Cru- 
 cc elty ? I was miferable enough before, but I had, 
 f c however, the Confolation or living for your fake. 
 te I thought my felf belov'd above all things, but I 
 cc find I was miftaken. Is that my Fault, or yours ? 
 iC The - * Love I bear you, blinds me. But, perhaps, 
 <c I ask more of you than you owe me, and more 
 cc than you can do for me. All is immeasurable with 
 cc me. But if your Life is mine, as you' have faid 
 " and fworn fo often to me, why then, againft my 
 " Will, do you difpofe of what's mine? And why 
 (< app^y it to any other ufe, than that of ferving me? 
 (C Ah, Oz,min ! how little do you underftand to Love, 
 " fmce you itill itand in need of thefe Leifons! 
 
 " And 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfaracha 153 
 
 cc And how far are you behind mc in Love's Race ! 
 " Glory may be every where acquir'd, but it would 
 (e be no hard matter, if one had a mind to't, to find 
 tc out thofe who would believe, that there is a thou- 
 " fand times more folid Glory in protecting and 
 €t comforting one under my DiftreiTes , than in 
 <c ferving all the Kings in the World. Farewell, and 
 l € think on t. 
 
 Ox.m\n was unable to wíthítand fo powerful At- 
 tacks. Love, as the itrongeft, became Victorious in 
 this Conteft , and he convine'd himfelf that he 
 ought to yield to it. The Court fet forward towards 
 the Army, and Daraxa was receiv'd into the Family 
 of Don Lewis de Padilla with fuch Honours, and 
 treated with fuch Care and Regard, that had Hie 
 been Daughter to the Queen her ielf, no greater 
 Refpeét could have been given her. There was no- 
 thing but Magnificence, Care and Study, in every 
 thing fhe could wifh, and in every thing that might 
 pleafe her ; and this was conftantly obferv'd towards 
 her, from firft to laft, as long as ihe continued in the 
 Family. She had likewife conftantly with her, her 
 dear Donna Ehira, who was charm'd to find they were 
 now become infeparable Companions, as well be- 
 caufe of the real Friendihip ihe had for her, as alio 
 for her being the Confident of her Paffion for the 
 agreeable Stranger. There was but one thing want- 
 ing to Daraxa, to have made her tolerably eafy 
 under her Fate; and that was, the Enjoyment of a 
 little more Liberty than ihe found ihe mull expe¿fc in 
 that Family. She was a little unprepar'd to meet 
 with fo much Reftraint, as having not met with fo 
 much in the Court it felf. This tainted all the Ge- 
 nerality, and all the Civilities and Honours of Don 
 Lewis's Treatment of her. She had never known 
 fuch Confinement, fo much Slavery, as here. They 
 were never permitted to ftir out upon any manner 
 
 of 
 
ï$4 The Ltf e an ¿ Anions Part I. 
 
 of Occafion. Their whole Divertifement confined 
 in the Pleafures of a Garden beautiful enough, where 
 they walk'd in the Evenings at a certain regulated 
 Hour, and always accompanied either by Don Lewis 
 himfelf, or by his Son Don Rodrigo. Her Apartment, 
 which was indeed Magnificent , had no Profpeft 
 but that of the Garden, and not one Window to- 
 wards the Street. She faw no body that came from 
 without Doors, neither Men nor Women ; nay, not 
 any, even of thofe of the Family, but her own 
 Moors, were permitted to enter into her Apartment; 
 and few elfe of the Family had fo much Privilege as 
 that. All this was cover'd with the Refped of not 
 incommoding her, and the Regards due to her, 
 which were the Colours and Varniih Don Lewis put 
 upon this Captivity, but with fo much Art, Addrefs, 
 good Breeding and courtly Honours, that nothing in 
 the World could .poflibly look more natural. Donna 
 Elvira liv'd no better, nor was treated in any other 
 fort; but then fhe had been always us'd to it, and 
 therefore could not taite the Bitternefs of it as Va- 
 raxa did, who found her felf deprivd by it of all 
 Hopes of fo much as getting but a little News of how 
 its far'd with her dear Lover. In this miferable State, 
 Donna Elviras Paiîîon for Ozmin became of great Ufe 
 to her; for as Elvira could fcarce live any longer 
 without her dear Don Jajme, ihe was refolv'd to 
 write to him, and had found Means by the help of 
 one of her Waiting- Wo men, in whom ine had an in- 
 tire Confidence, to procure a Man indépendant of 
 the Family, who undertook to deliver the Letter 
 with the utmoft Fidelity. Elvira confulted her dear 
 Daraxa in it, and begg'd of her by way of Gallan- 
 try, to add a Poflfcript in the Moorijh Tongue, for 
 ihe could not write in Spanifh. Daraxa was eafily 
 prevail'd upon, and this is the Senfe of what ihe 
 wrote. 
 
 « Always 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfàrache; 1 5 5 
 
 cc Always more Unfortunate, and always more 
 xc and more PafTionate. The whole Happinefs of a 
 ** Heart, confifts in feeing the Objeéfc of its Love ; 
 ff and its extream Unhappineis, in being depriv'd of 
 Cf it. Let us hear from you, and as foon as pof 
 " elfe I cannot live. 
 
 Daraxa gave what Interpretation fhe pleafed of 
 thefe Words to Donna Elvira, who underilood no- 
 thing of the Aioorijh Language. The Letter was car- 
 ried, and Oz,min received it with an Excels of Joy ; 
 for he had been extreamly in Pain that he heard no 
 News of his Miilrefs, and was utterly at a lofs to 
 Jmow how to write to her. He took the Opportuni- 
 ty of this MeíTenger to do it, and made him a gene- 
 rous Prefent to encourage him to return with ano- 
 ther Letter. This unlook'd-for Billet was fome Com- 
 fort to him amidft the Torments he felt, ever fince 
 the clofe Confinement of his Miilrefs at Don Lewis's, 
 which had been hitherto fo ítriét, that he could no 
 longer either fee her, or write to her, as he had 
 done while the Court remain'd at S evil. This was 
 too great a Change at once, not to be fenfibly felt, 
 but he knew no Remedy, and his whole Hopes reli- 
 ed upon the fruitful Invention and Contrivances of 
 Orvjedo. This faithful Servant, who was extreamly 
 touch'd at lies Mailer's Affligions, difguis'd himfelf 
 under the Habit of a common Labouring-man, and 
 went every Day round Don Lewis's Houfe, and all. 
 the Avenues to it, both to try to make fome Ac- 
 quaintance with fome footman, or other fuch Ser-, 
 vant, and to fee if it were poffible for him to light" 
 upon any of Daraxas Aioorijh Women. One Day as 
 he was {landing by Don Lewis's Garden-wall that 
 was repairing, the Mafter-Mafon feeing him very 
 attentively confidering thefWork, took him for one 
 of his own Trade ; and wanting Workmen, beca ufe 
 
 Don 
 
1 5 6 The Lije and AStims Part L 
 
 Don Lewis was always prefling him to make hafte 
 and difpatch the Work, and Workmen being fcarce 
 by reafon of the War, he ask'd him, whether he was 
 employ 'd, and if he was willing to ferve him. Or- 
 viedo reply'd, that he was in Work, but that he 
 had a Comrade who was out of Bufineis, and was 
 willing to earn his Bread in an honeit way. The 
 Mafon bid him bring his Comrade to him • telling 
 him, if he were good for nothing but to carry Mor- 
 tar, or bring Stone with the Wheel-barrow, yet hç 
 would employ him, and pay him very well. This 
 was enough for Orviedo : He return d immediately to 
 his Mafter, and told him, laughing, what a fine Em- 
 ployment he had found out for him ; but withal, 
 that he might poiïîbly, by help of it, find Means 
 to puih on the Affair of his Amour, if Love and For- 
 tune would but a little favour him. This Contri- 
 vance, how Comical foever it appear'd, was ex- 
 treamly grateful to Ôzmin, who prefently accepted of 
 the Employment. He only wanted a Labourer's Ha- 
 bit, which was quickly got; and Orviedo the very 
 fame Evening brought his Comrade to the Mafter 
 Mafon. He told the Mafon, his Name was Ambrofio; 
 that he was a poor unfortunate Soldier, who after 
 having been four Years a Prifoner among the Moors, 
 found himfelf reduc'd to labour for his Bread. The 
 Bargain was foon itruck, and he was hir'd, and or- 
 der'd to come and begin to work next Morning. 
 Ambrojio was up betimes to attend his new Mafter ; 
 who, bringing him into the Garden, put the Wheel- 
 barrow into his Hands, and told him the Bufinefs he 
 was to do. He went as readily and chearfully about 
 it, as tho' all his Life he had been bred to the Trade. 
 His Mafter finding him take fo very well to his Bufi- 
 nefs, was mightily pleas' d with him, expre fling him- 
 felf, That if his new Labourer continued to work 
 with fo much Diligence, he ihould have a mighty 
 Satisfaction in him. No body yet appear'd ftirring 
 
 in 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache.^ 157 
 
 in the Houfe, and it was much too early for the 
 Ladies ; but the ufual Hour for the Family in gene- 
 ral to be flirring and about being at laft come, Am- 
 hrofio began to fee fome of the Moorifi Women appear 
 in the Windows of Daraxa s Apartment, and loon 
 after Daraxa her felf and Dowia Elvira. Theie two 
 Ladies, who had no Intimation of this new Contri- 
 vance, were far enough from believing or thinking 
 of Ozmins being fo near, or imagining the Comical 
 Mafcarade he had bethought himfelf of. As for 
 him , he was thus far mighty well pleas'd with his 
 good Fortune, and diverted himfelf with the Plea- 
 fantry of his odd Difguife. He was in full Expecta- 
 tion of very agreeable Fruits of it, and was delight- 
 ing himfelf with the Thoughts of the Surprize it 
 would be to the Ladies, when they ihould come into 
 the Garden and find him in that Equipage. But he 
 made his Eftimates without confidering the Temper 
 of Don Lewis , who in Point of Women was moil ter- 
 ribly a Spaniard. And then Daraxa had been recom- 
 mended to him in fo particular a manner by the 
 Queen, that he thought it an indifpenfible Duty t<j 
 watch Night and Day over every Step of her Con- 
 dud ; and that he ihould ihew himfelf unworthy of 
 the Choice the Queen had made of him, Ihould he 
 give the leaft Occafion for any to fufpeét, that he re- 
 lax'd his Care but for a fingle Moment. He knew 
 this Beauty wanted no Lover ; and his own Experi- 
 ence had taught him, Love could make Men under- 
 take any thing. He did not believe Daraxa was 
 more infenfíblé than other Women are ; at leaft, he 
 knew well enough that thofe of her Nation were in 
 no great Reputation for Infenfibility, they palling in 
 thole days to be full of Gallantry and Intrigue. But 
 he was yet more afraid from without than from 
 within, of the Lovers than of the Miitxefs, becaufe 
 Men are naturally more Daring and Enterprizing 
 than Women. Tis true, indeed, he whom Don 
 
 Lewit 
 
i ç 8 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Lewis imagin'd he had moft caufe to be afraid of, 
 which was Don Alonfo, becaufe he was believ'd to 
 ftand faireft ki the Efteem of the lovely Moor, was 
 ftill incommoded by his Wound, and ftirr'd not a- 
 broad ; but the Commerce by Letters and Billet-doux, 
 feenfd to Don Lewis to be of no lefs dangerous Con- 
 sequence than the neareft Converfation ; and there- 
 fore, to cut off all Fears, he refolv'd to be fecure on 
 all Sides. He prefs'd his Workmen perpetually to dis- 
 patch and make an end, incited by the Spurs of his 
 eternal Apprehenfion, left fome body ihould be found, 
 who might be bold enough to undertake fuch a Mef- 
 fage ; and in that Difquiet he trufted not fo much to 
 his Son, who was another Guardian, and of a Species 
 yet more vexatious than himfelf, but he would like- 
 wife be at the Pains, in his own proper Perfon, to 
 accompany the Ladies every Evening into the Guar- 
 den, ever fince the Workmen were bufied about the 
 Repair of the Garden-Wall. 'Tis true, indeed, he 
 left them the liberty of Walking at their Pleafure as to 
 himfelf ; but then his Son was perpetually with them, 
 and gave him the Conveniency of furpervifing his 
 Workmen ; but Amhrofw was thereby put under the 
 more Conftraint, and by confequence under the grea- 
 ter Difficulty and Trouble. Don Lewis preiently 
 took notice of this new Workman, and found him of 
 a grave and ferious Aiped, and one that appear'd 
 very intent and diligent in his Bufineis ; but for that 
 time he made no further Reflection upon it ; and 
 foon after, the Day's Work being over, the Workmen 
 retir'd. Ambrofto departed too with the reft, and had 
 no other Luck all that Day, but to fee his Miftrefs 
 walking up and down with Don Rodrigo, who was his 
 Rival. Love, which is the moft violent of all 
 *Paffions,is neverthelefs that which requires the great- 
 eft Patience ; for it rarely obtains its Ends, but by 
 flow Gradations. Amhrofio was well acquainted with 
 this Maxim j this was not the firft time he had been 
 » ♦ taught 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache.' 1 5^ 
 
 taught it ; neither did he cool at all for this firft 
 Day's Difappointment ; io far from cooling, that he 
 thought himfelf well requited for this Day's Trouble. 
 In Love-Matters, he is no Lofer who obtains but a 
 glance of his Miftreis ; abundance of Lovers would 
 be well content with iiich a Favour, and in Spain it 
 paflfes for a Privilege of thofe that have the more pe- 
 culiar Smiles of Love and Fortune. The next Morn- 
 ing the Amorous Amhrofio return'd very early to his 
 Labour, and fell to his Work with all imaginable Di- 
 ligence. His Mailer was wonderfully pleas'd with 
 him, and began to propofe him as a Pattern of Indu- 
 ftry for the reft to follow. The Wheel-barrow was 
 in perpetual Motion ; and as he wheel'd the Stone 
 about, he fometimes pafs'd through one of the Walks 
 which lay under the Windows of Daraxas Apart- 
 ment. He no fooner fpi'd Laida there, but he begaû 
 to fing one of the Songs of the MooriJI) Peafants. As 
 his Temper was naturally Brisk and Gay, and his 
 Fellow-workmen knew he had been a long time a 
 Prifoner in that Country, no body wonder d at his 
 iinging one of their Songs ; but Laida extreamly curi- 
 ous to know what Man it could be who fung lb well 
 in their Language, went down into the Garden and 
 found 'twas Ozjmin. She pretended to be gathering 
 Flowers for her Miftreis, as íhe very often did ; and 
 our Lover, as he return'd next time, without any 
 flopping or looking, let fall, juft by her, a Letter 
 he had prepar'd in a readinels for fuch an Opportu- 
 nity ; and íhe prefently fnatch'd it up, and ran with 
 it to her Miftrefs. The Surprize and Joy of Daraxa 
 were fuch, as one may eafily imagine ; but íhe did 
 not judge it fit to impart it to her Friend, for fear, 
 leaft her too unguarded Forwardnefs íhould fpoil aü, 
 and left it íhould put Whims of Jealoufy into her 
 Head. Daraxa was as yet in Bed, but got up in a 
 trice, and drefs'd her, that íhe might get to the Win- 
 dow, and enjoy the Sight of her moft dear Lovej. 
 
 She 
 
lío The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 She was fenfibly affe&ed to fee in what an Equipage 
 he was, and to what a fordid Condition he fubje&ed 
 himfelf for Love of her. But the Heart often feeds 
 upon thefe Extravagancies ; and a Love, all fmooth 
 and even, wants its Salt and Pionancy, and is in 
 danger of palling our Appetite. Daraxa writ an An- 
 fwer to this Letter, and Laida took her time to con- 
 vey it unperceiv'd. Amhrofio began in good earneft 
 to relifh the Trade of a Mafon. Daraxa was almoft 
 all Day at her Window, and he had thereby the plea- 
 fure or feeing her almoft the whole Day. Their lit^ 
 tie private Signs were always in Exercife, continual- 
 ly as he went and came by the Window. Thofe that 
 were never in Love, or but very fuperficially, will 
 efteem all thefe myfterious Matters to be a very tri- 
 vial Bufineis ; but thofe that truly know the mighty 
 Force of high exalted Love, will feel a fecret Trans- 
 port only to hear it told. 
 
 This new Commerce held fome Days. Don Lewis 
 did not fail of going among his Work-folks every 
 Evening, to quicken them to a difpatch by his Pre- 
 fence ; if there was now and then fome Faults thro' 
 the Loitering of any, yet ftill he obferv'd, that this 
 new Comer never fpar a himfelf, but was indefatiga- 
 ble in his Bufinefs. He took an Affe&ion for him, 
 in feeing his extraordinary Induftry, and thought 
 with himfelf he might probably make him a very 
 good Servant. He drew near to the Mafter-Mafon, 
 and ask'd him where he got this Workman. The 
 Mafter replied, One of the Artifans of the City had 
 brought him to him ; and that if he held on as he 
 began, he fhould think the Wages he gave him well 
 beftow'd. Don Lewis, well pleas'd with this Chara- 
 cter, goes up to our Labourer, to whom he had ne- 
 ver yet fpoke, and ask'd him from whence he came. 
 Amhrofio replied, in the moft clowniih manner he 
 could poflibly perfonate, That he was an Jrragoman, 
 pnd fo went on with an Account of himfelf, fuitable 
 
 to 
 
 * 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 1 6 1 
 
 to what hadS been told before to the Mailer-Malon. 
 Don Lewis found a fufficient appearance of Truth 
 in what he faid ; and it even ieem'd to him, that 
 his Countenance and Accent had the Air of that 
 Country. He ask'd him, moreover, concerning the 
 Mailer he had ferv'd at Granada y and in what he 
 employ'd him. Ambrcpo having aniwer'd, he was a 
 great Merchant, who had a moil noble and beau- 
 tiful Gaiden, in which he was put to Labour, and 
 chiefly employ'd in looking after the Flowers, in 
 whofe Culture and Improvements he had been in- 
 ilrucïed. This was enough to prevail abfolutely on 
 Don Lewis , to take him into his Service. He knew 
 the Moors were very curious in Flowers j and he 
 wanted jufl íüch a Man to look after thofe of his 
 own Garden. -As he had been Three Months in- 
 quiring after fuch a one, he was not willing to lofe 
 the opportunity of retaining this. He tells him he 
 had already a Gardiner, but that he was not very 
 expert in Flowers ; and therefore, if he was wil- 
 ling to íérve him, and would take Care to cultivate 
 and improve his Plants, he would give him good 
 Wages, and would alio take Care of his Fortune ; 
 and that he might fecurely depend upon it, in 
 cafe he did his Duty with Fidelity and Exa&neis. 
 Amhrofio a&ed the fervile part, expreffing more bv 
 Cringing and Scraping, than by Words, how fenfi- 
 ble he was of fo great Favours from fo great a Man j 
 and that he defir'd no better Fortune than to ferve 
 and pleafe him. The Agreement was prefently 
 made • and Don Lewis told him, He had no more 
 to do, but to lay by his Apron, and take his Leave 
 of the Mailer-Mafon ; and fo come next day, and 
 enter upon his Employment in his Garden, where 
 all Things mould be ready for him. 
 
 Thus is Oz.min, from a Mafon's Labourer, be- 
 come a Gardiner, and that to the Marquis de Padilla ; 
 Who, at his coming next day, fail'd not, in the firft 
 
 M Place, 
 
i ¿2 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 Place, to give him grave and ample Inftru&ions, as 
 to the Condud he was to obferve in his Family, and 
 particularly with refpecl: to the Women ; and that 
 not only towards the Ladies, to whom the utmoft 
 Regard was due, but alfo towards all the Female 
 Servants ; with none of which he mult have any 
 Converfation, if he meant to continue in his Ser- 
 vice. He dwelt fo much the longer on this Chapter, 
 becaufe he found him, in fpite of all his affected 
 Ill-looks and Grimaces, to be very handfome in his 
 Perfon, and of an agréable Air : And Don Lewis 
 was by no means ignorant, how dangerous an Im- 
 plement a handfome Fellow is, among Women that 
 have no other Man they can come at. All thefe Lev- 
 ions of Continence and Abftinence, gravely explain'd 
 at their full Length, fufficiently difcover'd to Ambrcfio 
 the Genius of his Patron ; ana gave him plainly to 
 underftand, that he" muft keep itri&ly upon his 
 Guard, and take efpecial Care of never treading 
 awry. He was no fooner fettled in his Bufinefs, but 
 he would needs begin to exercife his Talent, to get 
 the good Opinion of his new Mafter , who was 
 come to fee how he went to work, and what he 
 could do : And as he himfelf was not ignorant in the 
 Culture of Flowers, he was pleas'd with his new 
 Servant, and allow'd him to be an Artiit. He had a 
 great deal of Reafon to judge as he did j for Oz.m'm, 
 like many other Moorijh Lords, had been a great 
 lover of Flowers, and underitood the Culture of 
 them better than many a Floriit,whofe Profeffion and 
 Trade it was. Daraxa rifing that Morning, much 
 earlier than was ufual for her to do, to delight her 
 felf at the Window, was a.maz'd to fee her Lover 
 difcourfing with Don Lewis in the great Flower- 
 Garden. The fight of Don Lewis oblig'd her to keep 
 behind a Curtain, to conceal her felf ¿ well know- 
 ing how very Speculative he was upon fuch fort of 
 Occafions. She knew not what to make of this new 
 
 Intrigue ; 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. i £3 
 
 Intrigue ; but the Mafter of the Houfe at laft with- 
 drawing, Oz,min } to whom (he prefently difcover'd 
 her felf, made her comprehend the whole Matter by 
 Signs, and how he had chang'd his Mailer and his 
 Trade. This appear'd very odd and extraordinary 
 to Daraxa ; ihe could not forbear finiling at it ; and 
 indeed ihe was exceeding glad of it, hoping, at 
 leaft, for more frequent Opportunities of feeing 
 him, and for longer time, and at lefs diftan.ee, with 
 a full freedom of writing to him • Plcafures Ihe lit- 
 tle look'd for, in a Houle like that ; and Pleafures 
 ihe would very gladly have fpanngly made ufe of, 
 that fo they might laft the longer, and, if poifible, 
 till the Queen's return ; but fhe dreaded the vio- 
 lent Sallies of Donna Elvira, from whom it was 
 impoffible to hide it any longer. She thought it 
 moñ prudent to prevent Elviras difcovering our dif- 
 guis'd Lover, and tell her of it ; that fo ine might 
 be prepar'd for it., and not at once furpriz'd into it j 
 left fuch a Surprize, as the firft unexpe-cled finding 
 her Don Jayme, ihould fo difcompofe and diforder 
 her, as to produce lome very ill Effect, as would 
 without all Difpute infallibly have happen'd. Don 
 Lavis talk'd at Dinner concerning his new Gardiner 
 for Culture and Improvement of his Flowers ; and 
 exprefs'd himfelf to be wonderfully pleas'd^ that he 
 had luckily made fo very good a Choice • for he 
 was convinced he was Skilful, and therefore hoped 
 that for the future his Flower-Garden would be in 
 better Order. This Difcourfe pafs'd quickly and 
 quietly over, for no Body made any Reply to it : 
 But when Dinner was over 3 Daraxa leading her 
 Friend into her own Apartment with her, and rcfoL- 
 ~ving to divert her felf a little, ihe ftiew'd her this 
 new Gardiner, of whom her Father had been fpeak- 
 ing ; and at the fame time ask'd her, If her Heart 
 whifper'd nothing to her in his Favour? Donna El- 
 vira ¿ furpriz'd at fuch a Queftion, was quite at a lofs 
 
 M 2 what 
 
1 6\ The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 what to think ont. She lookd upon the Man, 
 and having very attentively confider'd him, íhe be- 
 gan to have fome fufpicion of the Matter ; but the 
 tear of being miitaken, and then laugh'd at by her 
 Friend, making her Balance between Joy and Shame, 
 íhe durit not explain her felf; till Daraxa, who 
 could no longer hold from laughing, prelîîng her 
 to anfwer, and reproaching her with Infenfibility, 
 made her guefs in good earneft the real Truth of the 
 Matter. And then me broke forth into an excefs of 
 Joy, that perfe&ly convinced Daraxa to what a 
 height of Pailion her Friend was gotten ; and that 
 'twas with a great deal of Prudence íhe bad pre- 
 vented Elviras Difcovery of our Gardiner, in the 
 prefence of Don Ltwis 3 or before her Brother. Da- 
 raxa made her a grave and ferious Exhortation upon 
 this Subject ; reprefenting to her, of what Confe- 
 quence it was to Don Jaywe, that none of thefe 
 kind of Sentiments ihould ever break from her be- 
 fore any Peribn whatever. She promis'd to take all 
 neceflary Care and Caution of her Conduit in this 
 fo very important Particular^ but íhe could not 
 fufficiently admire the Addrefs and Contrivance of 
 her pretended Lover, who had been able to Out- 
 wit her Father in fuch an Affair, who was the moil 
 fufpicious and diftruilful of all Men, and the moil 
 upon his Guard. To this , with abundance of 
 Tranfport, íhe added, That certainly Don Jayme 
 mull; needs be very much in Love to give himfelf fo 
 great trouble, and to fubjed himfelf to fo mean 
 an Employment for her fake. Daraxa knew well 
 enough what íhe ought to believe upon that Score, 
 but fhe had lefs Reafon than ever to undeceive her. 
 There was nothing now tut Pleafures and Intrigues, 
 from Morning till Night, between the two Ladies 
 and the happy Gardiner. Each of the Ladies had 
 her own particular Confident • Laida was the beau- 
 tiful Moor's 5 and Qlark]a i who was the Waiting-Wo- 
 man 
 
! 
 
 Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 1 ¿5 
 
 man that I have already mentioned was the amorous 
 Donna Elviras. Both thefe Maids were witty and 
 expert at what they pretended to, and were employ M 
 in ; and both of them ferv'd their Ladies, in thefe 
 Affairs, with readinefs, exactneis and fidelity. Am- 
 bropo acquitted himfelf admirably well, and to both 
 their Satisfactions. Thus far all was well manag'd, 
 and nothing appear'd. Daraxa was the general Con- 
 fident of all her Friends Affairs, but Elvira was not 
 fo in hers : No, that could not be ; nor muft fhe have 
 the leaft Shadow of fuch a Confidence : For if ihe 
 had, all muft have been» loft • fo that 'twas an eternal 
 Conftraint upon Daraxa, that coil her fomething ; 
 but there was no Remedy j Prudence was none of 
 her leaft Ornaments, and ill e had need enough of it 
 on this Occafion. The amorous fair Spaniard was a 
 difcerning Lady • and fhc was too paffionate, not to 
 be eafily touch'd with Jealoufy. The Love-Billets tra- 
 vell'd to and fro, each Party had a particular Hiding- 
 place for them in the Garden • but Elvira knew no- 
 thing of her Friend's. Thither the Billets were car- 
 ried, and from thence were the Anfwers fetch'd, at 
 proper and convenient Hours : A Poft of Gallantry, 
 fo admirably well regulated, that nothing could be 
 better Order'd or Executed. There was no more to 
 do, but to have kept ftridly to that wife Difpofure. 
 'Twas an agreeable delightful Life ; but how can 
 Love flop, when 'tis well ? It would not then be 
 Love. That Paiîîon will endure no Bounds. It re- 
 quires a perpetual Spring of new Pleafures; and foon 
 tires, if they are not vary'd. The beauteous Spaniard, 
 who was the molt impatient of our Lovers, began 
 to find, that the Plealures of Seeing and Writing 
 were nothing, when there might be Difcourfing and 
 Converfing with what we love. She propofes to her 
 Friend, that they may meet Don J ay me by Night, ac 
 an Hour when all the Family were in Bed, and in the 
 depth of Sleep j that their Rendezvous might beat the 
 
 M 3 Windows 
 
1 66 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 Windows of the Gallery below ; for which purpofe, 
 Clarlcia will take upon her to get a Key to it ; and 
 that thofe Windows being but a Man's height, on the 
 Garden- fide, they might ealily have the Convenience 
 and Satisfaction of talking with him as much as they 
 pleas'd. Daraxa at firft was a little troubl'd and concern'd 
 at this Propofal; this Clandeitine Meeting, tho' remote 
 enough from all Domeftick Danger, feem'd to her 
 fubjecr. to variety of Hazards and Inconveniencies ; 
 but as fhe had no mind to converfe lcfs remotely with 
 her dear Lover, and to be thereby able to tell him 
 fcmetimes the tender Sentiments of her Soul, the 
 weaknefs of her Heart carried the Point againft the 
 Strength and Prudence of all other Confederations. 
 Don ^fayme was made acquainted with it, who joy- 
 fully embrac'd the Motion. He lay at the lower end 
 of all the Garden, in the Gardiner's Houfe; the Door 
 of which was duly ihut up as foon as it grew dark, 
 and was no moreopen'd till Morning, to go to Work • 
 and this was done by the exprefs and ilrid Command 
 of Don Lewis, net to be difobey'd, on pain of his Dif- 
 pleafure : But that was a Difficulty our Cavalier de- 
 fpis'd ; he was too learned, in Love-Intrigues, to be 
 at a Lofs in fo flight a Matter. He foon made him a 
 Ladder of imall Cords, by means of which he 
 could at any time, with Eafe, go down thro' his 
 Chamber Window into the Garden, and return again 
 with equal readinefs. He got the Ladies inform 'd of 
 this agreeable Expedient, and promis'd to attend them, 
 at the Place and Time appointed, that very fame 
 Night. The Delire of meeting being equally eager 
 and earneft in ail Parties, the Hour of Midnight 
 was no fconer itruck, being the timeprefix'dforit,and 
 the Window open'd, but that a new Scene of raviih- 
 ing Joy was open'd to all our Lovers. Donna Elvira 
 gaye way, without any Reftraint, totheProfufionand 
 ïrr pctuolky of hers ; that of Daraxa, tho' wifely 
 withheld from overflowing, yet was nothing inferior 
 
 to 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 1 6j 
 
 to her Friends. But Elvira would abfolutely„engro£ 
 the whole Window ; there was no way in the World 
 to difpute it with her. ' Nor had this been much, 
 would ihe- have ilop'd there ; but as Night naturally 
 infpires Libertine Wiihes in Matters of Love, and 
 even emboldens fometimes to act them too, or at leaft 
 abates the Reftraints of Bafhfulnefs, or covers the 
 Bluihes arifing from it ; our amorous, tranfported, 
 beauteous Spaniard, carried away by the violent Ex- 
 ceiTes of her Pafïïon, proceeded to indulge her felf 
 in fome fort of Freedoms with her Dear Don Jajme, 
 that were by no means well reliih'd by Dar axa. The 
 Windows of this Gallery were only fenc'd round with 
 thick Iron-Bars, at a good wide diftancc ; and Donna 
 "Elvira put her Hands and Arms quite thro', to the 
 Heart's Regret of her Friend Daraxa. But ihe faw the 
 indifpenfiblc Necefïïty of bearing with it; and being 
 beiides fecure of her Lover's faithful Heart, ihe 
 wifely itrove to fortify her felf againft all thofe 
 Struggles and Emotions, that clfe would certainly 
 have poifon'd the Peace and Quiet of her Breaft. 
 Oz,min, who perfectly knew the nice and delicate 
 Sence of his Country-women, in thofe tender Points, 
 Was careful to take Opportunities, thro 5 the Advantage 
 given him for it by the Obicurity of the Night, to 
 mitigate thofe Troubles of his Miftrefs, by lèverai 
 gentle, amorous Endearments of her, unperceiv'd by 
 Vivirá. And thus there was mingled to the lovely 
 Moor, fome of the Bitter, and fome of the Sweets, 
 io ufually met with in the Incidents of this Tyrant 
 of- tender amorous Hcarr c . The Spanifo Beauty 
 found her felf moft happy, tho' ihe had, by much, 
 the leaft Reafon to be fo. In this World, not always 
 thofe that might be, are really happy ; 'tis thofe that 
 think themfelves fo, are only Ço in Truth. To be 
 happy, and not know it, is the greateft of Miferies ; 
 to be miferable, and yet enjoy the Pleamre of an 
 agreeable Fortune, is what may be term'd FJappinefs. 
 
 M 4 This 
 
i ¿8 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 This firft nightly Converfation, had been fo charm- 
 ing to Donna Ehira, that {he could not but wiih, not 
 only for a fécond, but that all her Nights were to 
 be fo fpent. Daraxas Pleafure in thole -Meetings, 
 grew ienfibly lefs and lefs every Day ; becaufe her 
 Friend, whofe Paffion became more and more violent, 
 was fcarce at length reftrain'd by any Senfe of Mo- 
 defty. Theover-perplex'dDrfnr*^ at laft, could not 
 forbear to let her Lover know the uneafy Agitations 
 of her Mind ; and that the Pleafure fne took in meet- 
 ing him at this Window, coft her fo very dear, that 
 ihe could not wiih it might laft any .longer. Qzntin, 
 who would rather have died., than difcompofe his 
 Miitrefs in the leaft, from thence-forward avoided 
 moit carefully whatever he could guefs would give 
 her any, tho' but the leaft Difquiet, and chang'd his 
 manner of converfing with Donna Elvira into a Cold- 
 nefs next a-kin to Infenfibility. But (till, a Man is 
 not altogether of Marble, and therefore it muft needs 
 be very difficult, to be continually expos'd to the 
 amorous TenderneiTes of a molt beautiful young 
 Lady, as this enamour'd Spaniard was, and yet not 
 fometimes forget ones felf. The Crime would be the 
 courting fuch TenderneiTes, or even the not avoiding 
 of them as much as one could i but what can we do, 
 when inienfibly involv'd in them, and conftrain'd 
 to be expos'd to all the Force of it ? Something more 
 than Virtue is wanting to refill: it ; only a fenfeleis 
 Stone could be fure to conquer in fuch a. Trial. Da- 
 raxa's. Meafures were therefore well and wifely foun- 
 ded ; and her Lover, who only fought to pleafe her, 
 was wholly devoted to obey her. 
 
 The Mafons at laft had made an end of their 
 Work, and Don Lewis being thereby deliver'd from 
 that Care, from thence- forward left the young Folks 
 at their ful! liberty of walking in the Evenings about 
 the Garden. This was a new Joy for the Ladies ; 
 itooù not in fo much awe of Don Rodrigo^, espe- 
 cially 
 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarachc. 1 6$ 
 
 cially his Sifter, who minded him not much. She re- 
 foiv d to ufe him betimes to her talking with Jmbrofio; 
 and as ilie faw him paffing by an Arbour, where 
 they were fitting, ihe defir'd her Brother to call to 
 him, and bid him bring them fome Flowers. The 
 gratifying her Requeft, had little appearance of being 
 of any moment ; ib that Don Rodrigo prefently did as 
 Ihe defir'd, and Jmbrofio brought them a Basket of 
 Flowers. Donna Elvira, with intent to keep him 
 there as long as ilie could, ask'd him feveral Queftions 
 about his Confinement in Granada , and that oc- 
 çafion'd Don Rodrigo to ask him feveral other Parti- 
 culars ; and, at laft, to pray Daraxa to talk to him a 
 little in the Moorijh Tongue, to fee if he underftood 
 it well. She was eafily perfwaded to gratify him in 
 it ¿ and the charming Moor told him, that, for a 
 Spaniard, he ipoke it reafonably well. Don Rodrigo 
 had already lèverai times done him the Honour to 
 talk with him, and found him to have more than a 
 vulgar Underftanding, tho' Ambrofio was not ambi- 
 tious of appearing over-fenfible to him. The Ladies 
 Were fatisfied with this for an Introduction this way ; 
 but 'twas Night that gave the mighty Pleafure to 
 Elvira, and Difpleafure to Daraxa, or at leaft a Plea- 
 fure too much allay -d. As for the Evenings walking ; 
 Ambrofio, under one Pretence or other, always made 
 pne. Don Rodrigo, who was every Day more and 
 more pleas'd with his talking, and who had alfo a 
 Defign to make ufe of. him in his Pretentions to 
 Daraxa, grew very forward of himfelf to call him to 
 them, without being requefted to it by the Ladies, 
 and frequently put him upon talking Mocrijh with Da- 
 raxa, in order to the Defign he had form'd. This 
 Gardiner, of the greateft Ingenuity, being by this, 
 means become more familiar with his young Mafter, 
 and both the Ladies, did not, as at firft, flay till he was 
 caH'd,but as foon as he faw them in the Garden, heftill 
 found fome Pretext or other to gc to them • or, if by 
 
 chance 
 
1 70 The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 chance he fail'd of doing it, Donna. Elvira was ready 
 with hers to go look for him., and was fure to bring 
 him. Don Rodrigo did not trouble himfelf about 
 thefe Liberties of his Sifter ; he did not fo much as 
 mind her, not in the leaft fufpe&ing that a Servant, 
 and that of inferiour Rank, could ever be regarded 
 by a Sifter of his. But Daraxa, who beheld DonjrVy- 
 me in AmbroJtOy and Ozmin in Don Jayme, and repre- 
 fented continually to her felf, the Violence of £/- 
 viras Tranfports, could take no Pleafure in any 
 of ' theie Matters; and Difquiets by Day, and 
 Difquiets by Night, were more than a little too 
 much. She had given occafion to her own Unhap- 
 pinefs. She might eafily, had fhe been fo pleas'd, 
 have put a ftop to it at its firft Appearance. Ozmin 
 had nothing contributed to it. He even told her conti- 
 nually, it was troublefome to him to endure it. She 
 could blame nónebut her felf. Her own Deftiny had 
 drawn her into it. But at laft ihe took a Refolution, 
 that, coft what it would, ihe would prevent the fame 
 Deftiny from compleating her Unhappinefs in this 
 Peint, by her own over-complaifance. The nicety 
 of the Matter coniifted, in taking her Meafures with 
 fo much Caution, as to "keep the Remedy from being 
 worfe than the Difeafe. For, as to the obliging 
 O-zsnm to break off his Converfation with Elvira, 
 nothing was more eafy ; this unalterable Lover v/as 
 jntireiy difpes'd to obey her in that. But then the Con- 
 fequences of fuch a Rupture were greatly to be ap- 
 prehended, confidering the Violence of Elvira's 
 Paflîon. Daraxa, upon this Occafion, ftood in need 
 of all her Wit and Judgment ; and ihe was, happily 
 for her, of a Temper and Humour, never to do any 
 thing of which fhe might be afraid of repenting. 
 
 But its now time to acquaint you with fome Parti- 
 culars, without the enclofure of Don Lewis's Houfe, 
 in a City where Dar/txa's Beauty had made too many 
 Conquefts, to be intirely forgotten fo foon. Among 
 
 all 
 
Book I. of Guzman cTAlfarache. 171 
 
 all her Lovers, Don Alonfo, ftill more amorous than 
 ever., and being now pretty well recover'd of his 
 Wound, and beginning to get abroad, grew quite 
 impatient to be thus totally debar'd of feeing Dar axa. 
 He Itadbeen inform'd, to hisextream Trouble, thatthe 
 Queen had put his lovely Miftrefs into Don Lewus 
 Hands. This was doubly an ArHidion to him ; as 
 well for the Averlion that he naturally had for 
 Don Rodrigo, as for the Jealoufy and Antipathy of 
 a long {landing between his Family, and that of 
 Don Leans. This made that Place, that of it felf was 
 inacceftible to all Men, to be far more fo to him; and 
 yet he muft needs, at any Rate, get fome Tidings of 
 his Miftrefs, and fee her too, if it were any way 
 poiîîble. In order to this, he had taken Care to em- 
 ploy able Engines and EmifTaries, to try to win him 
 lbme Woman belonging to Donna Elvira; and Clarici* 
 was ihe on whom the Lot fell. She was a witty in- 
 triguing Girl, apt and ready, tried in managing Lo- 
 vers Secrets, and willing to embark, if properly en- 
 gag'd ; and Don Alonfo was young, handibme, in- 
 finuating and liberal. Women of her fort, feldom 
 long relift the firm Attacks of Men of his. Don A- 
 lonfo dcfir'd nothing of her, but to ierve him as to 
 Daraxa in the finding fome Stratagem, for Love has 
 Stratagems as well as W r ar, to help to the Sight o[ 
 her ; and, if pofiible, to fpeak with her. Claricia, 
 well paid before-hand, as fo it muft be, if you would 
 engage a Confident to ferve you heartily, promis'd 
 him Wonders ; and, as an Earneft of her Zeal for 
 his Service, Rethought her felf of acquainting him with 
 all that had pafs'd between her Miftrefs and Don Jay- 
 me Vroes ; who, of a noble Lord of the Kingdom of 
 Arragon, had made himielf a Gardiner for Love of 
 her. Alonfo took a World of Plealure in hearing this 
 related ; and inform'd himièlf in the raoft minute 
 Particulars of it. No Body could f itisfy his Curiofity 
 jn that Point, better than Çlarkja ; for ilie had been 
 
 entrufted 
 
172 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 entrufted with the whole Matter, and nothing had 
 been done without her. As for Daraxa, me appear d 
 not to have any part in this Adventure, other than as 
 a true and faithful Friend. But in vain it was, that 
 Don Aknfo turn d his Thoughts all manner of Ways, 
 to find out who this Don Jayme Vives fhould be, 
 whom he had never heard of before, neither in the 
 Court nor Army ; and yet, who was a Man of that 
 Quality and Merit. He could by no means tell what 
 to think on t. But ftill 'twas pleafant and diverting to 
 him ; and he would fain have found out fome way 
 of making an Acquaintance and Friendfhip, with a 
 Perfon of that diftincYion, to ad in conjunction with 
 him, their Matters being not much unlike, and both 
 their Miftreífes ihut up together. This Thought 
 .ufher'd a thoufand others ; and being young, amo- 
 rous, and naturally active and daring, he was touch'd 
 with Emulation, and even with a little Shame, to 
 think he had not had as much Dexterity and Courage 
 to make his Way into this Houfe, and to do for the 
 beautiful Daraxa, what another had done for the Love 
 of Donna Elvira. His Mind was fill'd with a thoufand 
 Defigns, all turning upon this one Point, and yet all 
 diverting, pleaiant and entertaining to him. 
 
 Daraxa was ftill purfued with Fears and Cares ; 
 Jealoufy difturb'd the Quiet of her Breaft, and all 
 her Thoughts were earneftly employ 'd to find out 
 fome happy Expedient, whereby, without risking 
 any thing, ihe might be able to re-eftablifh her for- 
 mer Tranquillity of Mind. Donna Elvira was con- 
 triving, at the fame time, to fill her Heart with 
 Love's fupream Delights. She was perfwaded, that 
 Love was not made for nothing but eternal Sighing; 
 that there was a certain conclufive Point, and ultimate 
 End, in every Intention of all Things ; and that, till 
 they arriv'd at that, they remain d imperfect. She 
 had, as ihe thought, a Lover who merited all her 
 Efteem, and her whole Heart. She plac'd her intire 
 
 Happi- 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarachc. 1 73 
 
 Happincfs in poífeíTing of him, and ihe imagined, 
 that this Happinefs depended only upon her felt ; 
 from all which, thus ihe reafon'd with her felf. Why, 
 fince I can be happy, ihould I not be fo ? Can I ever 
 poflibly wiih for a more defirable Man ? And how 
 miferable a Life ihall J be fure to lead, if I ftay to 
 expedmy Father's Choice, and that he gives me one 
 for a Husband, in contradiction to the Sentiments of 
 my Heart ! Donna Ehira continually revolving, for 
 feveral Days, thefe and fuch-likc Thoughts in her 
 Mind, with lefs or greater agitation of Spirit, as ihe 
 was more or lefs prefs'd by the Fits and Intermiffions 
 of her Pailion ; and concluding in fine, that for the 
 Quiet of her Mind, (he ought to be once for all infc- 
 parably united with her dear Lover ; fhe determin'd 
 to open her Mind to her dear Daraxa. She flood in 
 need of her, to break the Ice in making the firft 
 Overture, thefe being fome Remains of Decency ihe 
 ftill retain'd • and therefore dcfir'd to fpare her felf 
 the Bluíhes and Confufions, from the Struggles of 
 Virgin Modefty, with violent raging Love, at the 
 difclofing her Intentions to Don Jayme. She confi- 
 der'd it as a great Advantage, that her Friend was al- 
 ready fo very well inttructed in the fecret Sentiments 
 of her Soul ; that ihe, knowing fo thoroughly the 
 whole State of her Affairs, nothing of what fhe was 
 to tell her, would be any Surprize to her. She be- 
 liev'd her to be intirely in her Interefts ; and after 
 the Complacencies fhe had had for her, the leaft ih« 
 could expecl: from her, was a hearty Willingnefs to 
 ferve her upon this Occafion, on which all her Hap- 
 pinefs depended. Daraxa harken d to her, but not 
 without an extream Trouble, and violent Convulfions 
 of Mind. Notwithftanding that admirable Com- 
 mand of her felf, wherein fhe fo excell'd, it had not 
 been very difficult for any other, befides Donna Ehtra, 
 to difcern her inward Agitations by her outward 
 Mien i but Elvira's Thoughts were too bufy upon her 
 
 own 
 
1 74 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 own Concernments, to be at leifure to make any 
 Remarks upon another. The Jealous Daraxa ha- 
 ving had time to recover her ufual Temper, during 
 this Difcourfe io odious and afflicting to her, put on 
 a grave and ferious Look ; which was irrftantly ob- 
 ferv'd by Elvira, and taken as an ill Omen to her io 
 paffionate Wiihes. Daraxa began, however, with tel- 
 ling her that ihe was wholly difpos'd to comply with 
 her Defires ; but that ihe could not anfwer it to 
 Friendfhip and Honour, ihould Ihe omit to ask her, 
 as became a real Friend, whether ihe had well re- 
 flected upon what fhe was going to do • nor could 
 ihe forbear reprefenting to her, at the fame time, 
 into how many Mifchiefs ilie was going to precipitate 
 her felf, by fo rafh an Action. And thereupon fhe 
 laid before her, all that in Reafon might make her 
 afraid to execute her raih Defign, as well with Re- 
 gard to what fhe ow'd to her Birth and Family, as 
 what (he ow'd to her felf. From thence fhe proceeded 
 to the Considerations refpeóting her Lover, who was 
 a meer unknown Stranger ; of whofe Eitate, Birth 
 or Merit, there was nothing appear'd, other than 
 what he himfelf had faid ; on which, it would.be a 
 great Imprudence to rely intirely ; and yet, that (Tie 
 was going to make him fuch Advances, as were ne- 
 ver decent for any Virgin to make ;■ and yet far lefs 
 for one of noble Birth : And ihould it happen 
 that her Advances ihould not be receiv'd according 
 to her Wifhes, as that might poffibly happen, it 
 would prove an eternal Grief to her, and a Stain that 
 fhe could never wafh away. All thefe Remonftran- 
 ces, tho' juft and right, were very little reliih'd by 
 Donna Elvira ; who, impatient to hear fo long Rea- 
 foning upon what fhe had already refolv'd, made 
 her the belt Anfwer ihe could to all her Scruples • 
 fupplying what was wanting in ftrength of Reafon, 
 with Excufes drawn from the excefs of her Love ; 
 which no longer permitted her to follow any other 
 
 Advices, 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 175 
 
 Advices, than thoie of her Heart. When therefore 
 Daraxa faw there was no Hopes that Reaibn could 
 prevail, not being willing to vex her too much, ihe 
 promisd to do her this Office of Friendihip, and to 
 break it to Don Jayme the very fame Night ; but 
 what a little difcompes'd her was, that Elvira, whe- 
 ther thro' Diftruft, or to be the better inform'd of the 
 Succefs, would needs be prefent her felf behind a 
 Curtain, and unknown to the fupposd Don Jayme. 
 It was now grown late, and the Hour was pail for 
 giving him notice by Writing ; yet ihe comforted 
 her felf in the Belief, that the Difcourfe ihe mould 
 make him would in all Reafon fo much furprize 
 him, that he would make no doubt but there was 
 fome Myftery in it ¿ fpr he was not a Man who al- 
 ways flood in need to be inftru&ed, a little Hint fuf- 
 ficing to put him upon his Guard againft any Emer- 
 gency. This fufficiently appear'd upon this Oc- 
 cafion i wherein 'twas impoffihle to be lefs furpriz'd 
 than he was. The very abfence of Domui Elvira, 
 made him prefently fufpeel: there was fome Novelty 
 in hand ; and no fooner had Daraxa begun to enter 
 upon the material part of her Difcourfe, but he pre- 
 fently underftood the drift of the Matter, tho' +ie 
 never, till then, imagind that the lovely Spaniard 
 would have pufh'd her Point fo very clofe and home. 
 He was of Opinion, that the beft Turn he could give 
 it, was to take it only for a pure Piece of Raillery, 
 and he did fo ; and whatever Daraxa could fay, to 
 make him underftand that it was very ferioufly 
 Ihe was then fpeaking to him, and that he ought to 
 anfwer her in the fame manner ; yet he ilill conti- 
 nued acting the fame Part to the end of the Conver- 
 fation. This Night's Meeting being thus wafted, in 
 a manner difagreable to all Parties, it was broke 
 up fooner than was ufual. Don Jayme was even the 
 firil that grew weary of it, and defird Leave to with- 
 draw. Daraxa thought ihe had duly difcharg'd her 
 
 Part, 
 
i *j6 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Parr, and that ihe had really out-done her felf in it. 
 Her Friend had quite another Opinion of it • ihe 
 was altogether uneafy and diffatisfied • and imputed 
 to Dar axa, all the wrong Conftru&ions, andburlefque 
 jocofe Argumentations of Don Jayme. She conclu- 
 ded from thence, upon the whole Matter, that no 
 Proxies are proper in the Affairs of Love ; and that 
 one muft tranfa<5t ones own Bufinefs, by ones own 
 Hands and Tongue, as well as in ones own Heart ; 
 becaufe the Party immediately concern'd, always 
 beil knows what's fitteít to be done, and in what 
 manner; and thus ihe ftill fupported her Hopes, 
 flattering her ielf, ihe could yet find the Secret to 
 bring her belov'd Don Jayme to the Point íhe fo paf- 
 fionately wiih'd. 
 
 Daraxa plainly faw, that, do whatever ihe could, 
 ihe was to be charg'd with all the Blame of the ill 
 Succefs of this Intrigue ; but 'twas no more than 
 what ihe look'd for, and there was no Remedy for it. 
 She had been very forry, had her Mediation fucceeded 
 any better than it did ; and ihe repos'd that Night 
 much the .better, becaufe Things pafs'd according to 
 her Wiihes. As for Donna Elvira, ihe was far enough 
 from fleeping; but having had time, during the re- 
 mainder of the Night, to let the Impetuofity of her Ar- 
 dour in fome meafure abate, ihe found her feif next 
 Day a little lefs tranfported, and thereby more fit, 
 and better difpos'd, to diffemble the Anxiety of her 
 Mind. She confider'd the Calmnefs and cool Temper, 
 wherewith Daraxa manag'd this Affair, as the refult 
 of her Prudence, and thought ihe might very well 
 excufe it, becaufe ihe might, reafonably enoifgh, 
 have more than common Apprehenfions of embarking 
 her felf in fo very doubtful a Matter. They met 
 again next Morning, but without imparting to each 
 other their feveral Sentiments upon what had pafs'd. 
 Each had her diftin¿t Reafons in private to her felf ; 
 and, from this time, both were, on their Guard-; and 
 
 J twai 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 177 
 
 'twas a Trial of Skill, who ihould be moil Politick. 
 They took their Evening Walk according to their 
 ufual Cuftom, but there fell out fomething new and 
 unexpected ¿ an Adventure of fuch an Air, fo odd 
 and lingular, as if exprefly contriv'd by Love him- 
 felf, to afright, embarafs and confound, and yet wt 
 laft to prove in favour of the generous confiant Paflîon 
 of our two illuftrious and extraordinary Moors. Don 
 Rodrigo, as I have already told you, was in Jove with 
 the ever-charming Daraxj, or, however, he thought ' 
 lit to pretend to be fo, for Love had no great Domi- 
 nion over him, his amorous . Prctenfions refulting 
 more from Vanity, than any hx'd Inclination, 
 vcrthelefs, he was more than a little mov'd, even 
 from that very Vanity, to have made no more Iin- 
 preilions upon his Miftrefs. His Attempts had been 
 many, but, to his no little Mortification, all to no pur- 
 pofe ; he ftirl met wirh ptrpetual Repulies, and the 
 fame civil, yet cold Indifference. But, however, this di4 
 not much difcourage him j and as he was none of the ; 
 moft violent Lovers, he gave himfelf no great Dif- 
 
 ?|uiet about it. He comforted himfelf with the Plea- 
 ure and Advantage he had above his Rivals, in that 
 he could ville and difcourfe his Miftrcis when he 
 pleas'dj and this fed his Vanity, as fome fort of good 
 Fortune and DiiUn&ion, in favour of him and his 
 Pretenfions. He had obferv'd Ambrofio to be a pretty 
 fenfible Youth, and every Day more and more di- 
 itinguifh'd him, to be careful and skilful in all he un- 
 dertook. This inclin'd him to think he might in- 
 flruót him with good Succefs, to afîtft him in his 
 Amour with Daraxa; and in purfuit of this Thought, 
 ir<% had taken fit Occafions, to impart to him his L 
 tor her. He had endeavour'd, by fóme little Libera- 
 lities, to engage him to ipeak of him to her, with 
 RefpecT: and Advantage, as often as he found Or 
 tunities for it ; but he was that £>ay refolv'd to ea> 
 ploy him in it diredlly, and in good eârneft. H' 
 
 N defjgu'i 
 
178 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 defign'd he fhould entertain her at large, and in a very 
 di&incl: and particular manner, in the Moorish Tongue, 
 wherein ihe feernd to take Pleafure to talk with him, 
 concerning the extream Paffion he had for her, and 
 try to bring her to fome kind Temper towards him. 
 Amhrcfio told his young Mafter, with a world of Re- 
 fpe¿t, That he did him too great an Honour, by en- 
 trusting him fo far • and that he wanted neither De- 
 fire nor Zeal to ferve him ; nor even to deferve the 
 good Opinion he had of him, but that as he was very 
 unskilful in thofe Matters, he was much afraid that 
 he fhould not be able to anfwer his Expectations. 
 Don Rodrigo deíir'd no more but to find him willing, 
 as he feem d to be ; and, as he was always well-con- 
 ceited of himfelf, told him, That he would have no 
 more to do, than to follow exactly the Orders he 
 fhould give him ; and if hé did but obferve to do fo, 
 he made no doubt of having good Succefs ; and 
 thereupon he gave him full Inductions, in every Point, 
 how to manage for him with the lovely Moor. That 
 very Evening, when the Ladies were fate down in 
 the Arbour where they conftantly refted themfelves, 
 after fome Turns in the Walks to enjoy the Plea- 
 fure of the freih Evening Breezes, Ambrojio having 
 brought in a Basket of Flowers, as he us'd to do, 
 Don Rodrigo bid him make up the Nofegays himfelf 
 for the Ladies ; and at the fame time, making a Sign 
 to his Sifter to follow him, as if he had had fome- 
 thing to fay to her in private, he went out of the 
 Arbour, and ihe after him. They were no fooner 
 both gone out, when the pretended Ambrofio, feeing 
 his Time now come for opening this new Scene, was 
 about to begin it in a Tone of Pleafantry, as he ma- 
 naged himfelf, with the Sifter's Propofition ; but per- 
 ceiving in Daraxas Face an Air of profound Grief, 
 and an extream wan and dejected Look, that more 
 than fufBciently ihew'd the violent Agitation and Dif- 
 compofure of her Thoughts, he was moft fenfibly af- 
 fected 
 
Èook I. tf Guzman d*AIfarache. i y9 
 
 i 
 
 fe&ed by it ; and putting on a Manner and Mien more 
 roportion'd to her Grief, I had a Mind, faid he, to 
 ave diverted you, upon occafion of the Part given 
 me to aét at this Time before you, and which is, in 
 ihort, very near a-kin to that which you were laft 
 Night pi\t upon with me ; but I find you fo far from 
 being in a Humour to be diverted, and, indeed, fo 
 over-whelm'd by an excels of Grief, that I am even 
 itruck by it into a mortal Inquietude. Daraxa fetch'd 
 a deep Sigh, but made no Anfwer ; for her Heart 
 was fo intenfely wounded with the capricious con- 
 fiant Malice of their Fortune, and the continual Ün- 
 happinefs of their Love, which was perpetually tra- 
 vers'd in all Things with endlefs CroiTes, that the 
 too deep Impreflions, and too dark Ideas, inceifantly 
 repeated, quite deje&ed her Spirits. Ox>?mn } to 
 whom that Silence was a mortal Grief, beibught her 
 not to drive him to Defpatr, by declining to let him 
 know why ihe was thus exceffively Difconfolate. Let 
 me beg you to (peak, purfued he with a paflîonate 
 Air, for this Silence, and thofe imother'd Sighs, feeni 
 to mew more Mifchiefs than I would ihun to hear. 
 Is it not too juft a Caufe, even of the extrcam Trou- 
 ble in which you fee me, replied ihe, with a lament- 
 ing Voice, to find my felf eternally perfecuted by 
 the Brother, and, at the fame time, to fuffer what I 
 do by the Sifter? But dear Daraxa, replied Ozmln, 
 interrupting her, and hoping and ftriving to comfort 
 her, even all you mention, tho' bad enough, 15 yet, 
 iiot worthy the Trouble wherein I fee you. How ! 
 replied (he, Is it nothing then, to be every Da}' bait- 
 ed as I am, in a manner, cruel enough to break a 
 Heart, far lefs Tender and Senlible than mine ; and 
 to be, perhaps, upon the very brink of reproaching 
 any felf with too much juftice, that my too great 
 AiTurance of your Fidelity has coft me all the future 
 Quiet of my Life ? Could you then iufpeét mey re- 
 plied Ozmin, with 3 world: of Concern, to be caps- 
 
 N I fclë 
 
1 8 o The Life and Aftions Part Ï. 
 
 ble of fo criminal a Weaknefs ? Would you, conti- 
 nued he, with an encreafe of Tranfport, do me fuch 
 an Injuftice : You, who fo well know my Heart, 
 who know it values it fclf for its ftrift adherence to 
 Vertue, and are fo well able to judge whether it be 
 capable of the Guilt, or even of the fhadow of a 
 .Guilt "of Treachery ? I confefs, indeed, Oz.min, re- 
 plied ihe, 'wiping away fome Tears that fell, I am to 
 blame tobe thus alarm'd ; butlloveyou,andyouknow 
 my Weaknefs ; why will you not then ipare me fuch 
 tormenting Cares and Fears ? Your Complacencies 
 for the Fair and Amorous Elvira have gone a' little 
 too far j had they coil you as much as I have paid 
 for them, you would not have been fo very liberal of 
 them as you have been. At leaft, you may now 
 plainly fee the pernicious Effe&s they have wrought 
 in her Heart, and to what an excefsof Extravagance 
 her Paiîîon is arriv'd. And who will iecure me from 
 the dangerous Confequences of it ? I will — ■ — 0z~ 
 •mm was beginning to reply, but itop'd thçre, at the 
 unexpected Sight of Donna Elvira and her Brother, 
 who juft then came both almoft together, running 
 into the Arbour. Ozmln did not look for them io 
 foon, according to what Don Rodrigo had faid to 
 him ¿ but he had not been able to keep his Sifter 
 from returning her Interefts at this Time, being 
 quite different from his. She grew unquiet and im- 
 patient at what private Difcourfe might pafs in the 
 Arbour ; and getting away from him, and running 
 with all her Force, flie got back again before he 
 could overtake her. It was a very dumb Scene that 
 pafs'd among thefc four Perfons ; and yet, as dumb 
 as it was, it told more Tales, or at leaft it rous'd mpre 
 Thoughts, than confifted with any of their Intentions 
 or Expectations. They at firft mutually beheld one 
 another, according to the differing Interefts that they 
 feverally had , and as all of them had in their Faces, 
 certain Marks or Tracks of the fecret Agitations of 
 
 'their 
 
Book I. of Guzman cTAlfarache. 1 8 c 
 
 their Hearts, and as thefe Marks are not always fo 
 diftin&ly intelligible as to declare cxpreflv what is 
 intended by them, fo every Body naturally interprets 
 for himfelf, and fo did each of them. Ozmin prc- 
 fently recollected himfelf, and perceiv'd what an in- 
 different Figure he made • and as he had now nothing 
 more to do there, and as it therefore was indeed his 
 Duty, as/imbroflo, to retire, that ferv'd him for a de- 
 cent Handle to withdraw himfelf from fo dangerous an 
 Accident. Don Rodrigo no fooner faw him out of 
 the Arbour, but impatient to know what had pafs'd 
 between him and Daraxa, and to inform himfelf, as 
 to thofe Sufpicions that were rifen in his Mind, from 
 the unaccountable Manner and apparent Diforder 
 wherein he had firpriz'd them, he prefently folio w'd 
 nim, and with an Air and Mien full of Conftraint, 
 and plainly expreiling the Trouble and Concern that 
 then moil: fenfibly touch'd him, he ask'd him what 
 happy Succefs from the good Offices he had done 
 him with his Miftrefs. My Lord, replied he, you 
 have given me fo little time to talk with her, that 'tis 
 imponible for me to have done you any confiderable 
 Service. And yet, replied Don Rodrigo, in that little 
 time, you mult needs have faid fomething to her of 
 a more than common Importance, to have caus'd her 
 Looks tobe fo much chang'd as I found them, and her 
 Eyes to be ftill wet with the Tears, that molt certain- 
 ly flie had newly ihed. I believe, anfwerd Ambrofio, 
 that fhe was not very well pleas'd with the Freedom 
 I took, to fpeak to her of your Paiîîon ; and, per- 
 haps, the Remembrance of her pair and preient 
 Condition, were thereupon the occafion of thofe 
 Tears. Can you give me no better Reafons for fuch 
 a Change, replied Don Rodrigo ? I cannot fo well 
 guefs, my Lord, anfwer'd Ambrofio, at what her 
 Thoughts may be, but that I may very eaiily be rni- 
 ftaken, How can I tell, continued he, as if he were 
 making Gueifes of what might peilibly be the Cni'c, 
 
ï 8 a The Ufe and Aftions Part ï. 
 
 whether íhe may not already have engaged her Heart; 
 for, to fay truth, it would be fomething extraordinary, 
 if a young Lady, fo qualified as Ate, fliould never 
 meet with any thing worthy of her Thoughts, in a 
 Court io full of Gallantry as that of Granada. I am 
 as well convine' d it is fo, as you are, replied inftant- 
 \y and warmly the Jealous Don Rodrigo ; and further 
 yet, that your Bufineis here is not to ferve me, but 
 mat happy Rival. I cannot think, my Lord, an- 
 r'd Ambrojïo, you will fufpeft I would betray you 
 for a Moor. Moor or Chriftïan, faid he, this is not the 
 firft time I have been ftrongly inclin'd to think, your 
 Understanding was more than a little above the fize of 
 a Gardiner's ; and that all your Moorifi Difcourfes 
 with Daraxa were not to my Advantage, nor íhalí 
 they end in yours ; as, added he, with a Tone and 
 Gefture full of Menace, I will foon make you fen- 
 fible 3 to your Coft. And having thus faid, he turn'd 
 away from him in a mighty Paifeon, and went back 
 to the two charming Friends, who had all this while 
 kept their afflicting Silence ; but they no fooner faw 
 him returning, but they rofe up to retire themfeives, 
 and to be more at liberty, each to entertain her felf 
 with her diitinct amorous Thoughts in her own re- 
 ipe$ive Apartment. Don Rodrigo follow'd them in 
 a very d i (contented Humour, and not at all inclin'd 
 to enter into any Converfation with them; but meet- 
 ing his Father, who, thinking they were {till walk- 
 ing, was come to take a Turn or two with them, he 
 let the Ladies go, to have the more Freedom with 
 him. Don Rodrigo was wholly intent upon what had 
 pafs'd that Evening, and more efpecially as to Am- 
 brojio ; and Don Lewis having chane'd to. mention this 
 Servant, as they were paffing among the Beds of 
 Flowers, and intimating how well pleas'd he was 
 with the Induitry and Skill of his new Gardiner; 
 he is poffibiy, anfwer'd Don Rodrigo, with a malicious 
 Smjle, more skillfull than were to be wim'd ; and, I 
 
 believe,' 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache; 1 83 
 
 believe, that he both imderftands and practices more 
 than one Employment. Don Lewis, who was then 
 looking upon ibme Flowers, and was not fo very at- 
 tentive to what his Son fpoke, as to make any great Re- 
 flection upon it,at firft made him no Anfwer • but quick- 
 ly after refuming the Difcourfe, 'tis true, faid he, he 
 wants no Senfe, but he is not therefore a worfe Ser- 
 vant, and I believe he will make me a very good 
 One. I very much queftion, anfwer'd Don Rodrigo, 
 with the fame Tone and Air, his coming hither with 
 that Intent, or, at leaft, I am perfwaded, that fome 
 others will be better ferv'd by him than you. How's 
 that ! faid Don Lewis, eagerly and inftantly inter- 
 rupting him • Pray what's the Meaning of what you 
 fay ? And for whom would a Servant in my Family 
 pretend to employ himfelf, more than for me ? To 
 be plain with you Sir, replied the Son, I am of O- 
 pinion, he is more in Daraxas Inte reft, than in yours, 
 or, at leaft, in thofe of fome one of her Lovers. Ah ! 
 my dear Son, cried the Father, laughing, I now 
 perceive you are really in Love. If I am, replied he, 
 tis not a Love that blinds me, but one that helps me 
 to difcern ; for I know very well what I fay, and 
 what I have feen. But what is it then that you have 
 feen ? faid Don Lewis, again interrupting him ; ex- 
 plain your felf, Son, and let me underftand you • 
 for you ihall find, I am Don Lewis He Vadtlla, Son of 
 Don Gafpar, the Man of all his Contemporaries, of 
 all that liv'd within the Age he liv'd in, the leaft apt 
 to miftake himfelf, and the moft difficult to be fur- 
 priz'd by others. A thoufand times has the World 
 done me the Juftice of declaring, that I degenerated 
 not from my Anceftors in this Point, no more than in 
 many others. Our Court is one of the moft juftly 
 celebrated in all Europe, for its Fertility in grave 
 and wife Men ; you may have taken Notice what 
 Reputation I have in it, and you fee of whom the 
 Queen has made Choice, for the Care and Guard of 
 
 N4 this 
 
i 84 The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 this illuftrious Moor. In a Word, Son, I have but 
 this more to fay to you ; I am now turn d of Fifty, 
 and if, at four and twenty, they had brought me, 
 not meerly an Arragonian, who are none of the moil 
 fubtile, but even the molt fharp and cunning Fellow 
 among all the Greeks ; and if I had had but ío much 
 leifure, as to give him but one firm attentive Look, I 
 would at firft Sight have penetrated the deepeft Re- 
 cettes of his Soul. I am perfwaded of all theie 
 Truths, my Lord, replied his Son, more than any 
 Man in the World ; but yet I cannot but think, that 
 this Man only pretends to ferve you, while he really 
 intends the Service of another ; for he has been all 
 of a fudden a little too familiar with the Moorijh La- 
 dy ; and all the little Difcourfes that pafs between 
 thenij and her too vifible Indulgence of his Free- 
 doms, are no vain Ground of my Conje&ures, that 
 this is not the firft of their Acquaintance, and that — 
 But pray, my grave Obferver, cried the Impatient 
 Don Lewis, interrupting him, and not enduring to 
 have his Son take him for an Ideot and a Property, 
 are not you the ftrangeft Man in the World, to find 
 Fault with that very thing, whofe only Blame is 
 from your felf ? Pray, added he, very warmly, why 
 did you permit thofe Familiarities ? Is this according 
 to the Inftrucüon you have had from me? And are you 
 ignorant of the Laws and Cuftoms of your Country, 
 that a Woman wounds her Honour, by only looking 
 upon a Man, and that 'tis a capital Crime in a Ser- 
 vant to lift his Eye towards his Miftrefs ? And yet 
 you »re the Man that fuffers the Violation of all this, 
 and the Prophanation of your Sifter's Honour, by 
 being in the fame Company ; diihonouring your felf 
 a!fh, by Liberties incontinent with all manner of 
 Decency, and unworthy of a Man of your Quality. 
 Ab ! my Son ! purfued he, deeply Sighing, What 
 ibi : of Conduct is this! Change me but your Treat- 
 ment of this Servant, and uiè him like the reft, and 
 
 III 
 
Book I. of Guzman cl'Alfarache. 185 
 
 I'll fecure you his Fidelity, and anfwer for him, in 
 Point of the Reípcét he owes to you, and to all that 
 any way relate to me. Reft your felf content, I 
 am not a Man to be impos'd upon ; and I ihall not 
 fail tp be perfectly awake, both Night and Day, in 
 order to a thorough Infpection into all that paffes 
 where I have to do. Don Rodrigo, out of Refpecl: to 
 his Father, durit not reply ; neverthelefs, he conti- 
 nued fully perfwaded, that his Father, how difcern- 
 ing foever he thought himfelf, was yet deceiv'd in 
 his good Opinion of this Servant ; and he took a 
 certain fecret fort oi Pleafure to think, that fooner 
 or later his Father could not but fee his Error, and 
 find he had been quite miitaken in him. Juft then, 
 a Servant coming to tell Don Rodrigo that one defir'â 
 to fpeak with him, he left his Father to make an eni 
 of his Walk by himfelf. This Lord, who eafily took 
 Umbrage at any thing, and wanted none to help fill 
 him with Sufpiciom, as foon as ever he found him- 
 felf alone, fell into a deep muling, and made a thou-x 
 land Reflections that filfd him with perplexing 
 Thoughts, notwithstanding the outward Appearance 
 he had kept in Prefence of his Son. But to compleat 
 his meafure of incurable Scruples, his chief Gardiner, 
 who had endeavour'd to fpeak with him for fome 
 Days, taking this Opportunity of his being alone, 
 came to inform him, that for fome time of late, he 
 heard fome fort of Noife almoft every Night in the 
 Garden, which made him fufpect lomebody was 
 there ; and that if he dar'd to iiir out of his Lodge, 
 without his Order, he might have been able to have 
 given him a better Account. People by Night in 
 mv Garden ! replied Don Lewis, as in a great Afto- 
 niihment ; and from whence can they come, but 
 out of your Lodge ! He fpoke this with great Ardour 
 and Emotion, becaufe his own Mind being prepof- 
 fefs'd with what his Son had been telling him about 
 Jmhofïû, his Imagination inilantly perfwadçd him. 
 
1 26 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 that if any Body came into his Garden, it could be 
 none but he ; and, confequendy, that the Sufpicions 
 of Don Rodrigo were but too well grounded. But 
 the Gardiner alluring him, that there was no manner 
 of Fear from his Quarter; and that he would forfeit his 
 Life on it, as well for Ambrofio, as for his own Man, 
 becaufe he entrufted no Body, but lock'd the Door 
 always with his own Hand, and kept the Key con- 
 itantly in his Pocket ; Don Lewis became amaz'd and 
 confounded at it, not being able to form any tolera- 
 ble Guefs what it could be, or who mould have any 
 Bufinefs by Night in his Garden. He was in no ap- 
 prehenfion that 'twas Thieves, the very height of his 
 Walls was a fecure Fence from thofe Harpies; and be- 
 fides, there was nothing then in his Garden to tempt 
 them. As to Daraxas Lovers, he was firmly of Opi- 
 nion, that none of them could poifibly be fo fenfelels, to 
 expofe themfelves to fo great Danger, only to fee 
 her at a Window, if (he durft venture to expofe her 
 felf to be fo feen. In fine, he concluded with him- 
 felf, that it mull either be fome Miftake or Dream of 
 his Gardiner, or elfe that of neceffity it muft pro- 
 ceed from within his own Walls ; and this lait 
 Thought return'd his Sufpicions ftrong upon Ambrofio, 
 whatever his.Servant was able to alledge. At length 
 having ask'd him feveral other Queftions to no man- 
 ner of purpofe, he was tir'd with talking fo long to 
 no end with him ; and, therefore, only order'd him, 
 that without mentioning the leaft Word t>f what had 
 pafs'd, either to his own Man, or to the new Gar- 
 diner, he fhould keep a ft rid Watch that very Night; 
 and.that if they chanc'd to hear the leaftNoife again, 
 he fhould fire a Musket, and forthwith Sally out, 
 both he and his Man, compleatly arm'd ; and that he 
 Jiimfelf, with the reft of his Domefticks, would be 
 fure to do fo too. Don Lewis, having thus given his 
 Orders on this fide, went away to take Care elfe- 
 where ; for it would take him up fome time to get 
 
 3l{ 
 
Book I. of Guzman d' Alfarache. 1 8 7 
 
 all things in a readings for the mighty Feat he was 
 contriving, and which he look'd upon as Infallible-, 
 and a Mafter-Stratagem. 
 
 If the two Ladies, Don Lewis, and Don Rodrigo 
 were full of Trouble, Diforder, and Inquietude; 0&- 
 min was not without his Share. His Chara&er was 
 not to be much alarm'd at little Matters ; but he 
 thought Don Rodrigón parting Words deferv'd to be 
 well conlider'd, in order to prevent, ia good time, 
 any 111 might be defign'd him. He was not now to 
 learn, that. the firft Sufpicion is the Spring of infinite 
 more; and efpecially with Perfons Amorous and Jea- 
 lous. Don Rodrigo, indeed, did not fufpeft him to 
 be his Rival in Chief; but the Sufpicion he had of 
 his being the Confident of another, in which he had 
 clearly explajnd himfelf, was enough to provoke.' 
 him to give him a world of Trouble with fuch a Man 
 as his Father, and to bring him at leaft under ibme 
 vexatious, and perhaps dangerous Examination. He 
 had no Weapon to defend him but one large Poni-* 
 aid, and had fcarcely been able to hide that; and this 
 was but a poor Defence in a Family, where he 
 might be fet upon by above thirty Domefticks. He 
 fiad ièen Don Rodrigo, a little after he parted from 
 him, walking in the Garden with his Father, ana 
 had obfery'd their Difcourfe to be with Warmth and 
 AcHon.This made him ftill the more apprehenfive,and 
 he no longer doubted his being the Subject of that 
 wann Converfation. He concluded, from all his Re- 
 flections, that Prudence requir'd him to be upon his 
 Guard ; but he believ'd it to be above what was in- 
 cumbent upon him, to advertife Daraxa how Things 
 flood ; and even to inquire of her, whether Don Ro- 
 drigo had let any of his Difcontent appear, or his 
 Jealouiy difcover it felf to her, that fo he might 
 thereby be .the better able to govern himfelf, and 
 that both of them might the better concert their 
 Meafures, and acl with mutual Harmony free from 
 
 interfering. 
 
'i 8 8 The Life and Allions Part L 
 
 interfering. Tt was then too late to write that Night, 
 and get an Aniwer; and befides, a Matter of that 
 Moment requir'da perfonal Converfation. He was 
 in no Concern for Donna Elviras being prefent aç 
 their Difcourfe, which he knew was not to be avoid- 
 ed ; becaufe, befides the Part it might be proper to 
 .'îlîîgn to her in this Affair, ihe had been ib accu- 
 itom'd to their Talking now and then in the Moorifj 
 ¿^Tongue, that he ihould eafily be able to make Pre- 
 ^ tences to colour whatever Secret ihould be needful 
 to acquaint his Miftrefs with. This was what Ozmin 
 fix'd upon, after all the various Reflections and Strug- 
 gles of his Thoughts that Night/or they were neither 
 few nor calm, upon this unexpected Reverie of For- 
 tune in his Love-Intrigue within thofe Walks, this 
 fudden violent Shock giving him no Profpect. of any 
 pleafing Tendency. He was more than ufually Im- 
 patient for the approach of the Hour of their Meet- 
 ing 5 but, as it often happens, the more one is un- 
 eafy, the more mail Accidents fall in to heighten 
 ourUneafinefs; he was not able to guefs what Ihould 
 be the meaning of the Noife that he heard made 
 over his Head in the Gardiner's Chamber. He had 
 feen him that Night prepare his Musket, and even 
 Charge it with Ball, and put it in a Pofture and Con- 
 dition ready for Service, without ihewing any Curio- 
 iity of informing himfelf in the Reafon of it. The 
 Man, tho' commonly in Bed by Eight a Clock, 
 and in his dead Sleep by Nine, was yet that Night 
 Walking about his Chamber at pall Eleven. All this 
 could not but give new Subjects of Reflection to Oz- 
 min ; for 'twas plain, there was fome Novelty and 
 Myftery in hand. He was more than once in doubt^ 
 whether he ihould ftir out that Night • but, at lair, 
 the very fame Reafons that ftiew'd him the Danger's 
 he had on every fide of him, left he ihould be*difcover'd > 
 vine'd him alio of the neceffity of fpeaking to Da- 
 raxa, without any further Delay, to inform one ano- 
 
 thçd 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache.' i8p 
 
 ther of all Particulars, and to conclude together up- 
 on what Meafures ihould be beft for them, in cafe 
 they were forcibly fera rated. He had refolv'd to uiè 
 that Night his utmoft Care and Precaution, as well 
 in defcending from his Window with the lcaft poifi- 
 ble Noife, as afterwards in going but Step by Step 
 ibftly and flowly, and in taking a further Compaís 
 than he ufually did, that fo he might be lefs liable 
 to be ktn or heard by the Gardiner, if he watch'd : 
 for him, as it was to be fear'd he did. And, indeed, 
 he fucceeded fo well in every Particular, that he was 
 not in the Ieaft difcover'd on that Quarter; but there 
 were other Ambufcades laid for him, beiides that 
 of the Gardiners ; and he was fo furrounded and 
 watch' d all manner of Ways, that little lefs than a 
 fort of Miracle could poffibly prevent his Diicovery, 
 or fecure him an Efcápe. 
 
 But firft, we muft fee a little what becomes of 
 Daraxa, and how Matters pafs within Doors. The 
 beauteous Moor had taken notice, in the Garden, of 
 à part of Don Rodrigos Diforders, and of his feveral 
 Grievances, and uneafy Poftures and Geftures, when 
 he had found her talking with Ozmin or AmhoJïo y 
 and when he had at any time rejoin'd them, after 
 having left them in Converfation ; but all theie Con- 
 fiderations, tho' important enough in their Confe- 
 querices, fcarce mov'd her at all, when compar'd 
 with the Bitternefs of the Reflexions ihe made upon 
 the intricate and vexatious Affair of Donna Elvira 
 with Don Jayme. This was the grand Disturbance 
 of Daraxas Quiet ; the ObjecT: of all her anxious 
 Thoughts, her endlefs infinite Cares and Fears. Her 
 "Mind was fo fill'd with it, that there was no room 
 left for any other Refle&ion. She expected, with 
 'great Impatience and Curiofity, to fee what lort of 
 "an Interview would be this Night between Donna El- 
 fini and her fuppos'd Lover, after a Converfation fo 
 extraordinary as that which ihe had had with him 
 
 but 
 
i£o The Life an J At} ions Part Í. 
 
 but the Night before for her Sake. A thoufand 
 Symptoms made her fufpe¿t, that this amorous and 
 beautiful Spaniard Was forming fome Contrivance 
 ro furprize her. All that Day ihe had obferv'd her 
 in various and unufnal Agitations. She had fcarce 
 fpoke at all to her; and flie had taken notice of a fort 
 of Air of Conitraint and Diffimulation, in whatever 
 ihe had faid to her, that feem'd to prefage nothing 
 of Good or Sincere. But, what was mod furprizing, 
 ihe came not once into her Apartment all that whole 
 Evening, tho' it had been always her confiant Cu- 
 :ftom to pafs almoit the whole Time there, from after 
 Supper till the Hour came for going together down 
 into the Gallery to meet -the luppos'd Don Jay me. 
 Dor axa concluded, from all this unufual Conduit, 
 that ihe might expecl: fome uncommon Novelty ,• 
 and it came often, upon thefe Reflections, into her 
 Thoughts, that Donna Elvira might pofltbly intend ta 
 go that Night without her to meet her Lover ; and 
 this was what ihe moil fufpected, and what would 
 affe& her in the molt fenfible manner. But at length 
 ihe diipos'd her Mind to whatever might happen, to 
 prevent too great a Surprife from any thing, and fa 
 expeded the Event. It was impoffibíe to have pene- 
 trated more exactly into the Intentions of Defina EU 
 'vira s than was done by the Judgment made of them 
 by the beauteous Moor ; for this very thing was the 
 Aim and Intent of all the little amorous Politicks of 
 Elvira that whole Day. She eagerly afpir'd at the 
 Vifionary Blifs of Meeting and Entertaining all alone 
 her dear Don Jayme, that fo ihe might fatiate her 
 felf uninterrupted with the Charms of his Converfa- 
 tion with all the freedom her Heart long'd for, in 
 order to found the Depth of his Sentiments, and to 
 make him a full Difcovery of her own. This was to 
 break at once ail the Meafures of Oz.min and Dar axa y 
 but there was alfo preparing elfewhere for her, no 
 lefs Obftru&ions to all her new Contrivances, even! 
 
 tho' 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. i$i 
 
 tho' -{he lhould have found in her fuppos'd Don 
 Jayme, a Virtue lefs firm than that of Ozmin. Her 
 Father had not loft one Moment, fince he left the 
 Garcfen, to put all Things in order of Battle^ that is 
 to fay, to nuifter up all the Arms, OfFenfive and 
 Defeniive, that were about the Floufe, as Muskets, 
 Musketoons, Carbines, Piftols, Halberts, Pikes, Par- 
 tizans, Back and Breft, Helmets, Targets, Swords, 
 Poniards, and others ; the greateft part of which had 
 been fo long bound over to the Peace,that they were 
 half eat up by Ruft ; but there was now no time to talk 
 or think of cleaning them, for the Danger was juft 
 at the very Door ; at leaft one would have thought 
 fo, to have feen the fierce Airs and a&ive Motions 
 of the vigilant and warlike Don $ and that the Ene- 
 my was that very Night to have made a General AÍ- 
 fault upon his Houfe. For tho' he had never feen 
 an Army, much lefs a Battle, in his whole Life, yet 
 being defcended from Anceitors who had been in 
 Military Commands, he fcorn'd to have it faid, He 
 knew nothing of the Matter, or was a Man fit to be 
 furpriz'd by an Enemy. All his Fire- Arms amounted 
 but to Seventeen or Eighteen, and thofe were diftri- 
 buted among the moft daring of his Domeiticks, be- 
 caufe the Strefs of Adion was expected from 
 them. Notwithstanding all the Stir and Buftle that 
 might well enough have attended all this warlike 
 Preparation, he had taken fo particular a Care, and 
 given fo ftrid and pofitive Orders to prevent all 
 manner of Noife, wherein he placed the main Hope 
 of the Succefs of his Defign, Secrecy being the very 
 Soul of great Undertakings, that neither his Son nor 
 his Daughter whom he moft fear'd upon this Oeca- 
 fion, becaufe of their mutual Efteem for Daraxa, had 
 the leaft Intimation or Sufpicion of it. To this end 
 he only entrufted two old faithful Servants, com- 
 manding them to fee his Orders obey'd, and all 
 Things were made ready for A&ion againft Eleven a 
 
 Clock, 
 
Ip2 The Life and Anions Part t 
 
 Clock, and then the reft of his Domefticks were 
 brought foftly and privately, one by one, into his 
 Chamber, where he gave them feverally their parti- 
 cular Orders, diftributing the Arms among them, as 
 he judg'd each Man moil fit to ferve, and fending 
 each to his proper Poil upon Guard as Centinel. 
 The greater Part were difpos'd in the upper Rooms 
 for better Difcovery of others, and Concealment of 
 themfelves ; and ftricl: Orders to all not to fire, nor 
 make the leaft Noife, without firft acquainting him 
 what they difcover'd, unlefs they heard any firing 
 from others. He made Choice for his ovvrrPoil, of a 
 Çlofet over-againil Daraxas Apartment, as the moft 
 fufpe<5ted Place, and which therefore flood moft in 
 need of his own perfonal Vigilance,he having fo much 
 Intereil and Concern in the Matter, as in his own 
 Conceit he imagin'd himielf to have. He was ac- 
 companied by the Mailer of his Horfe, an old Do- 
 meilick, whofe Bravery was a-kin to that of his Ma- 
 iler, who wifh'd all the Moors far enough off, at 
 Granada, or any where, and his Mailer and himfelf 
 fail aileep in their Beds, rather than be plagu'd with 
 all this Buftle, good for nothing but to give them 
 abundance of cold and needlefs Fatigue. But 
 there was now nô Remedy j and fince Things were as 
 they were, there was neither Honour nor Safety in 
 thinking of a Retreat, till they had fecur'd them- 
 felves from the Enemy. Don Lewis was in his Night- 
 Gown, Night-Cap and Slippers, the Windows open, 
 and a Dark Lanthorn by him, that the Light might 
 not difcover him. It was one of thofe fine clear Nights,, 
 that are fo common in Spain, as they are likewife in 
 other hot Countries ; fo that tho' it were Night, yet 
 the Stars gave Light enough to difcern the Shadow 
 of a Man at the d i ft anee of Two or three hundred 
 Paces, which was juft about the Extent of the Place 
 they were watching. Time feems very tedious in 
 thele fort of Services, and eipecially to thofe that are 
 
 cnuVd 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache.^ 1^3 
 
 un-us'd to them ; and the vigilant Don Lewis began 
 to think it would never ftrike Twelve, that being the 
 Hour, or thereabouts, that by the Gardiner's Report 
 the Noife us'd to be in the Garden ; but no fooner 
 had he heard the Clock ftrike, but he was feiz'd 
 with fuch a' Throbbing of Heart, that one would 
 have thought he had been the Perfon watch'd for, 
 and who hadCaufe to be afraid of all this Preparation. 
 This Agitation fufficiently ihewing the Temper of his 
 Soul in time of Danger, encreas'd on a fudden with a 
 world of Violence, thinking he faw fome body creep 
 along by the Wall on the fide next the Gallery. Not 
 knowing certainly whether he was miftaken or not, 
 he pointed where with his Finger, to ihew it to his 
 Second, but he, whether thro' Fear, or that really his 
 Eyes were not fo good, faw nothing. But they were 
 foon put out of doubt j for two of their Centinels 
 came to let them know, that there was a Man ftand- 
 ing below under the Gallery, who talk'd with fome 
 body at one of the Windows, but that there was no 
 hearing what was faid. This furpriz'd and heated 
 Don Lewis in a wonderful manner ; but having the 
 Key of that Gallery, among the reft of the Keys 
 which were regularly brought to him at Nine every 
 Night , he caus'd inftant Notice to be privately gi- 
 ven to all the reft of his People who were thus in 
 Arms, and on the Watch, and order'd them to draw 
 up near him. This done, he prefently took the hardy 
 Refolution to begin with furprizing the Lady in the 
 very Fad:, that 10 he might deprive her of all poffi- 
 bility of being able to deny or evade the Matter. He 
 order'd, for this Expedition, two of his moft refolute 
 Musketeers, and the gallant and faithful Mafter of his 
 Horfe, who never left him, to attend his Perfon; 
 and defcending bare-foot , or however without 
 Shoes, to make no Noife, they came foftly down to 
 the Door of this Gallery , which they found wide 
 open; but here they made a ftand, in order to har- 
 
 O ken 
 
ij4 The Life and Anions Parti 
 
 ken to what was faid ; when Don Lewis >viho was ad- 
 vanced a little forwarder than any of the others, 
 over-heard thefe Words : " I have too much Efifeera 
 " for you, and I ihould be unworthy of yours, if I 
 fC abandon'd my felf to the Weaknefs of making you 
 fC Unhappy. I know who you are, and what I owe 
 (C to your Birth ; let us not do any thing, of which 
 fc we may Repent as long as we live. I am a Gen- 
 " tleman of Quality, but want to make my Fortune; 
 fc the Court is the only Place where I can do it; 
 " I ihall there itand in need of Friends and Support, 
 (C and to draw upon me the Hatred of Don Lewis, 
 tc who is fo powerful at Court, would be to deftroy 
 €c my own Pretenfions, and to ruin all my Hopes at 
 <e once. Don Lewis prefently knew the Voice of the 
 pretended Ambrofio, whofe Virtue and Prudence he 
 could not fufficiently admire ; but he thought it was 
 to Daraxa that this Difcourfe was directed, and no- 
 thing that he heard could as yet undeceive him. He 
 grew impatient to know what this Beauty would 
 reply, and he liiten'd moft attentively to hear it. 
 His Curiofity was prefently gratify 'd, but in another 
 manner than he expe&ed. But, good Heavens ! in- 
 to what a Rage and Aftoniihment he fell, when, in- 
 ftead of Daraxa, he heard the Voice of his Daughter 
 thus replying : " Are thefe, faid me to the Gentle- 
 " man, the Reafonings of an amorous Heart ? And 
 cc does your Paiîîon for me, infpire you nothing war- 
 <c mer than thefe cold Difcourfes ? Are you come 
 fC hither thro' fo many Difficulties, and even in Dan- 
 " ger of your Life, only to teach me my Duty, and 
 Cf the Conducir I ought to obferve ? Oh ! extream 
 <c Weakneis ! How have I been miitaken in you ! I 
 cc thought to find in you, a Man that deferv'd to be 
 <c belov'd, or who, at lean, knew what Love meant. 
 " Alas ! to what am I reduc'd ! to pity you, and to 
 " repent my own unhappy Choice ! What ! ihall I 
 fC have more Courage and Refolution than you I 
 " « Shall 
 
Book I. ' of Guzman d'Alfarache. 1^5 
 
 " Shall I deipife all Things for your fake, and will 
 ec you do nothing for me ? The confideration of ma- 
 <c king your Fortune can have the Power of cooling 
 cc you, when I place all my Fortune in you. What 
 <c need you fear my Father? Is there no other Court 
 cc in the World but ours; and fince there is, why 
 <c may not a Man of your extraordinary Worth, 
 <c hope to find elfewhere an agreeable and fufficient 
 cc Eftabliihment ? And, for my part, I had a thou- 
 " fand times rather live a contented Shepherdefs in 
 " a Cottage, than be miferable in the moft magni- 
 " ficent Palace. But to whom am I ipeaking ? — She 
 was going on thus, when the violence of her Paf- 
 fion made her break into a Torrent of Tears, that 
 ihe was now no longer able to reftrain. Juft then a 
 Musket was difcharg'd ; it came from that Quarter 
 where the Gardiner's Lodge was, and confequently 
 had not been occafion'd by Ambrofio, but it was in- 
 itantly follow'd by Ten or Twelve more. The Tears 
 and Love of Donna Ehira gave Place to the fuddain 
 •and violent Emotions of a more tumultuous Paiîîon, 
 that of Fear. She was fo feiz'd with it, at the Noife 
 of fo many Muskets firing all round her, that at 
 firft ihe fcarce knew where fhe was, or what ihe was 
 doing. In a little time recovering , though but 
 very imperfectly, fhe betook her felf to flight, not 
 fo much as remembring to lhut the Window ; but 
 juft as ihe was running out of the Gallery, her Fa- 
 ther, who had way-laid her in the Paifcge, catching 
 her all of a fuddain by the Arm: if Is it thus, faid he 
 cc to her, wretched Girl, that you difhonour your Fa- 
 cc ther, and the Illuftrious Blood from whence you 
 " are defcended ? Poor Donna Ehira, already ex- 
 ceedingly frighted by the Noife of fo many Muskets, 
 and her whole frame of Mind ihaken and diforder'd 
 in an exceffivc manner, by the heart-breaking Con- 
 verfation ihe juft had with her too much lov'd Don 
 Jajrme, found her ftlf quite over-power'd with fo 
 
 O z many 
 
ijí Tlie Life and Anions Part I 
 
 many violent Shocks at once ; this new unexpected 
 Stop, and above all, her Father's Voice, that, un- 
 able to refift, ihe fvvoon'd away in his Arms. Don 
 "Lewis perceiv'd it by the mournful Shriek ihe gave, 
 and by her remaining quite ftill and motionlefs ; 
 but opening his Dark-Lanthorn to inform himfelf 
 more certainly, he found her in a Condition, that 
 in fpite of all his Anger, as he was naturally a tender 
 Father, and above all, to this Daughter, he was ex- 
 treamly touch'd with Compaflion at it ; and not be- 
 ing able to bear the Sight without discovering too 
 much relenting, he left her to the Care of the Ma- 
 iler of his Horfe, and went away to revenge himfelf, 
 and make his Refentment fall upon him who had 
 been the Source of all this Mifchief. It was no lon- 
 ger Daraxa who had thus wrong'd his Houfe, for he 
 could eafily have waíh'd away that Stain ; but 'twas 
 his own Daughter, which was a mortal Stab to his 
 Reputation, and to the Honour of all his Family ; 
 and therefore he no longer confider'd either the Vir- 
 tue or Prudence of this pretended Ambrofio, who 
 now, in his Efteem, was only come to bring Dis- 
 grace and Infamy upon his Name, and fill his Family 
 with fo cruel and extream Diforder. He aifembled 
 all his Men of Arms , and having tuck'd up his 
 Gown, he call'd for his Armour, and put it on over 
 his Clothes. But as he was arming himfelf, his whole 
 Body trembled ; perceiving which, and obferving 
 that it quite furpriz'd his People, the Fear he had of 
 giving them, by that Accident, an ill Opinion of his 
 Courage, made him have Recourfe, as he was well 
 read in Hiftory, to a famous Example that gave a 
 handlbme Turn and Colour to this fort of Weaknefs ; 
 and added, That he had this natural Emotion in 
 common with the famous King Don Vedro 3 furnam'd 
 the Cruel, who when he put on his Armour upon a 
 Day of Battel, his whole Body trembled fo very 
 much, that 'twas fcarce poffible to arm him ; upon 
 
 which 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarachei i$j 
 
 which Occafion he was wont to iky, That if his Body 
 knew to how many and great Dangers his Valour 
 was going to expofe it, 'twould do more than 
 tremble, 'twould fweat Drops of Blood. You 
 lhall fee, added he to this Scrap of Hiftory, 
 that 'tis Rage, not Fear, makes me tremble ; for the 
 infamous Wretch lhall periih ; his Death is refolv'd, 
 and irretrievable. Finding himfelf now ready, and 
 in good order, that is to lay, his Helmet upon his 
 Night-Cap, his Back and Breaft upon his Night- 
 Gown, a Target upon his Left Arm, a long Pike in his 
 Right Hand, and both Hands arm'd with Gantlets. 'Tis 
 true, he was ftill in his Slippers, which was not quite 
 the Equipage of a Man arm'd from Head to Foot ; 
 but it would have took up Time to put on Shoes, and 
 arm his Feet ; and there was now no Time to fpare. 
 All being thus ready, and his Men drawn up in 
 Battalia, he pofted himfelf in the Rear, and com- 
 manded the great Garden-Door to be fet open, from 
 whence they defil'd by three and three, firft the Fire- 
 Arms, and then the Halberdeers and Pikes. There 
 was nothing wanting except a Drum ; but the Noife 
 they now made, fupplied that Want. The Gardiner 
 and his Man preiently join'd them; which was a 
 good Re-inforcement, tho' neither Man nor Mafter 
 was over-valiant, as you may guefs; for they told 
 their General, that they had {cqïi the Enemy, and 
 that moft certainly there were two of them. That 
 Information aftoniih'd Don Lewis, who ask'd him 
 why he did not fire upon them. He reply'd, he 
 duril not do it without his Order. Don Lewis 
 having inform'd himfelf which way they went, cau- 
 ied his Brigade to march the fame way, well perfwa- 
 ded in himfelf, it was impoffible they could efcape, 
 out of an inclofure furrounded by Walls of that 
 prodigious height. And yet he was mightily mifta- 
 ken; for the good Genius of Oz,n?in had taken Care 
 of him, and he was already fecure from Danger^ and 
 
 Oj far 
 
ïp8 The Life an J AHio?is Parti. 
 
 far enough from all the Rage and Malice of Don 
 Lewis. This disguis'd Lover being fully poifefs'd, 
 after all that had pafs'd, and what he had feen and 
 obferv'd, that there was fome Defign in Hand, and 
 that he was aim'd at by it, no fooner heard the Dif. 
 charge of fo many Muskets, but he prefently con- 
 cluded 'twas Don Rodrigo, who having caus'd him to 
 be watch'd, had done all this. He was fenfible, by 
 the many Musket-ihot he had heard, that his Enemies 
 muft needs opprefs him by their Numbers, he having 
 no Succour to exped, nor any thing but his Ponyard 
 to defend him : He therefore quickly concluded, that 
 he had nothing to do but to think of Retreating as 
 well as he could ; fo that Donna Elvira had no fooner 
 left him, but, fhifting for himfelf, he whipt through 
 a Walk, with intention to get into a little Ground- 
 Room, where the Gardiner's Tools were kept, which 
 Place feem'd to him the fitteft to fecure and defend 
 him a-while, and to fell his Life at the beft Rate 
 if he were driven to that Extremity, and found no- 
 thing but his Life would fatisfy. But he was not got 
 to the middle of the Garden, when a Man that fol- 
 low'd him, and began to get very nigh him, oblig'd 
 him to make a ftand and face him, to fee what he would 
 be at • and to make him fenfible, if Caufe requir'd it, 
 he was not retiring from a Angle Perfon. He therefore 
 ftood ftill, and then turn'd and fac'd him, and with 
 his Ponyard in his Hand, he waited his Approach, in 
 order to fall upon him, if he were arm'd with Shot, 
 and made any Motion towards firing upon him. But 
 this Man was fcarce well got within Piitol Shot of 
 him, but he call'd to him in a friendly and obliging 
 manner; My Lord Don J ay me, if you ftand in any 
 need of my Afltftance and Service, I am perfectly 
 difpos'd to ferve you heartily ; you have no more to 
 do, but to honour me with your Commands. I ve- 
 rily believe, your Life is fought for ; and that, in a 
 very few Moments, you will fee a Troop of Rafeáis, 
 
 all 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 1 99 
 
 all arm'd, fally out upon you, who, no doubt, will 
 bafely murder you, without any Regard to Virtue or 
 Humanity. It will be no very hard Matter, to ima- 
 gine the agreeable Surprife of Oz,min, at fo unex- 
 pected generous and obliging an Addreis ; not being 
 able to guefs at this unknown Perfon, neither who 
 or what he was, nor how he came thither ; nor, in 
 fine, how he could come to know that he was calfd 
 Don Jayme. He thought, indeed, that his Voice 
 was not wholly unknown to him ; and he could plain- 
 ly difcern, tho' it were Night, that he had neither 
 the Mien, nor Manner, nor Habit, either of a Ser- 
 vant, or of any of the Family ; and that he was 
 arm'd with two Piflols at his Girdle, and had a Sword 
 for Service under his Arm. All this plainly fhew'd 
 fomc form'd Defign, and that this unknown Perfon 
 had taken his Precautions. Thefe Thoughts and Re- 
 flections, which you know move more fwiftly in the 
 Mind than they can be related, being pafs'd before 
 him in a mental Scene, he confider'd a few Mo- 
 ments without íeplying, till he was come up very 
 near him ; and then in return to fo obliging Lan- 
 guage, and fo generous an Offer, I am not able to 
 guefs, faid he to the unknown Gentleman, from 
 whence fo unexpected a Happinefs as this can poili- 
 bly defcend upon me ; but whoever you are, you 
 cannot but be a Gentleman of uncommon Worth and 
 Noblenefs. And ilnce 'tis only I that am fought for, 
 if you have no other Bufinefs here, I ask you no 
 Afliftance, nor other Favour, but to lend me fome 
 Arms ; begging you, at the fame time, to retire from 
 hence, or fome way to fecure your own Perfon,for I can 
 by no Means endure to think, that fo gallant and ge- 
 nerous a Man, as you muft needs be, mould facrifice 
 his i-ife for my fake. As for my Arms, replied the 
 unknown Perion, they are at your Service. There 
 my Lord, there's one of my Piftols, and you may 
 depend upon't - 3 but I am not that fort of a Man, ad- 
 
 O 4 ded 
 
loo The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 ded he, in a moil generous, hearty and obliging 
 manner, to leave a Gentleman of your Merit to be 
 aiTaflinated, and refufe to ihare the Danger with him. 
 If therefore, purfued he, you would have me retire, 
 you muft refolve to go with me. I believe, replied 
 Ozrmn, 'twould be the fafeft and ihorteft Way • for 'tis 
 to no purpofe to fpend our Courage upon Brutes and 
 Footmen, unlefs we were conftrain'd to difpute our 
 Lives with them. But the worft ont is, for ought I 
 know, we muft be forced to ftand the Brunt, for I 
 fee no way to get off. I have a Salve for this Sore, 
 how defperate foever it feems, replied the unknown 
 Cavalier ; and therefore, without lofing more time, 
 let us be going ; and thus Head you the Way. They 
 haften'd along, and quickly came to that part of the 
 Garden-Wall that had been lately rebuilt ; a Place 
 that Ozmin well remember'd, and where he now faw 
 a good long Ladder, ftanding erected to the height 
 of the Wall. And here they would needs pafs fome 
 frefh Compliments, tho' a little unfeafonably, for 
 they could plainly hear the March of Don Lewis's 
 Brigade. But therefore they did it; each contending 
 for the Honour of being laft to afcend the Ladder, 
 and ftand the Danger of the Garden, tho' after all, 
 the Difference was not great. But at laft the Stran- 
 ger was forced to give way to Oz,min or Don Jay me, 
 becaufe the Affair chiefly refpecled him. They had 
 time enough, and to fpare, not only to afcend the 
 Ladder, but to draw it over the Wall ; becaufe the 
 Domeftick Patrole, that was in queft of them, had 
 taken their March a quite different way from the 
 Place of their Efcape j and they withdrew the Lad- 
 der, to deprive them of the fatisfa&ion of knowing 
 by what means they had thus happily fav'd themfelves. 
 There was another Ladder ftood ready planted on 
 the other fide the Wall, and five or fix lufty Footmen 
 attending below, all arm'd, who were upon the 
 Watch j by which, O^m'm found he had to do with a. 
 
 Man 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache; 201 
 
 Man of Quality. They were no focner got fafe 
 down into the Street, but Ozmin began to return him 
 the Thanks due for fo important a Succour ; defiring 
 at the fame time, as an addition of Favour, that he 
 would pleafe to let him know, to whom he flood in- 
 debted for fo fenfible an Obligation. But the un- 
 known Gentleman anfwer'd, that he mould think he 
 had done but half his Duty, if he fuffer'd him to go 
 alone to his Lodgings ; or, indeed, if he fhould leave 
 him before this Matter was quite ended ; that being 
 a Stranger, he might not, perhaps, fo well know what 
 ibrt of Man Don Lewis was, and that he had need to 
 make ufe of all poffible Precautions to guard himfelf 
 againft him : That he therefore made him an Offer 
 of his Houfe, where he might rely upon being fe- 
 cure from all Infults and Surprifes, even tho' it ihould 
 be known he was there ; but that if he would not do 
 him that Honour to accept of his Houfe as his own, 
 yet that, at leaft, he would not refufe him the Con- 
 tentment of refiding there with him, and affording 
 him his Company, till he could fee what was like to 
 be the Iifue of this Affair, and after what manner 
 Don Lewis and his Son would refent and purfue it. 
 Oz,min> charm'd with a Procedure fo extreamly noble, 
 and fo very uncommon, made him all the grateful 
 Acknowledgments that a fenfible and generous Heart, 
 warm'd with juft Efteem arifing from fo great Obli- 
 gations, could infpire him with j but he could not 
 defend himfelf from accepting, at lait, the repeated 
 Offers of his Houfe ; whither he confented to retire, 
 finding, by his earneft perfifting in it, that he ex- 
 treamly defir'd it, and would take it unkindly, if de- 
 nied. He therefore acquiefced in it, and they began 
 to walk apace, both to avoid being known, and 
 doggd by any of Don Lewis's People, and likewife 
 to gratify their mutual Impatience of feeing each o- 
 thers Faces in the Light ; it not having been poffible, 
 thp' the Night was clear enough, to diftinguiih welj 
 
 the 
 
302 The Life and Aüiom Part I, 
 
 the Air and Features of a Face. But as Ozmin 
 thought he knew the Voice of this Cavalier, ib he 
 likewife fancy'd he remember'd Ozmin's; and his 
 Curiofity was the greater, as not having taken its 
 Birth juft upon this Meeting, but being of an ear- 
 lier Date, had i>een augmented by this Sound of his 
 Voice, which he believ'd was not unknown to him. But 
 how extream was the Surprize of both thefe Gentle- 
 men, when they got to the Place to which they 
 were going; and when two Footmen coming to light 
 them at their entring the Houfe, with each two 
 Flambeaux, gave them an opportunity of gratifying 
 their mutual earned Defire of beholding each others 
 Faces*. What an Aftoniihment was there I fay,in both ! 
 but.chiefly in the Mailer of the Houfe! who yielding 
 firft of the two to the Tranfports of his Heart ; By 
 what good Influence, cried he out, embracing him, 
 do I this Night meet a Man to whom I owe my Life, 
 and whom I fo ardently wiih'd to find ! For my Ca- 
 valier,added he,with an extream Joy,which fufficient- 
 ly appear'd in his whole Deportment, 'twas you that 
 iav'd me, in the late Bull-Feaft, from the Fury of a 
 Bull^ which, but for your timely Succour, I could 
 not have efcap'd. That little Service, my Lord, re- 
 plied Oz.m'm very modeftly and fmiling, has been 
 well requited, by what you have juft done for me, 
 in retrieving me from a Danger, wherein, perhaps, 
 more than my Life lay at Stake. If I have render'd 
 you any Service in that, replied Don Alonfo, it has 
 been without running any Rifque on my part, and I 
 owe it aïï to Chance and my good Fortune • whereas 
 you entirely expos'd your Life for me, after I had 
 given you ib much Caufe to treat me in a quite dif- 
 ferent manner ; but 'tis only for Cavaliers of your 
 exalted Noblenefs, to puih their Generofity to ib 
 great a height. This obliging Conteft of Services 
 and Obligations continued for fome time, till they 
 went up into Don Alonfos Apartment, while another 
 
 was 
 
Book I. cf Guzman d'Alfarache. 20 3 
 
 was preparing for Don Jaywe. But they pafs'd the 
 greateft part of the remainder of the Night in|conver-. 
 iing together ^ Don Alonfo, in relating to his new 
 Gueft all that he knew of his Affairs with Donna El- 
 vira, with whom he believ'd him to be really in 
 Love ; and that it was Curiofity, and a Defire that 
 he had to make an Acquaintance with him,, that had 
 engag'd him to enter the Garden at that Hour. And 
 Ozjmln imparted to him, all that he could tell him of 
 that Intrigue, without turning it too much to his own 
 Advantage, for fear of injuring the Reputation of 
 Donna Elvira. Don Alonfo alfo made him a Confi- 
 dence of his Paiîîon for Daraxa ; which had been the 
 principal Motive of his defiring to make an Acquain- 
 tance with him. Oz,min, tho' he had no great Talent 
 in an eafy difguifing his Thoughts, yet judg'd it 
 concern'd him moil nearly upon this Ôccafion to do 
 it, and to continue the aiium'd FicTitious Name and 
 Perfon of Don Jayme Vives. Day having at laft fur- 
 priz'd them in the Courfe of fo agreeable a Conver- 
 fation, wherein neither of them were at all tir'd ; 
 Don Alonfo believ'd, that he ought not to treipafs 
 too far upon the Complaifance of Don Jayme ; and 
 having made him fome Compliments upon that Sub- 
 ject, he rofe up to wait on him to the Appartment 
 that had been particularly prepar'd for him ,• being 
 the moil commodious and magnificent in the whole 
 Houfe. He left him here to his Repofe till about 
 Noon: Having heard he was got up,and was drefling 
 himfelf, he went to him, that they might Dine toge- 
 ther in private, as they had thought it was moil pro- 
 per. Oz.min had already fent to look for Orviedo, to 
 let him know all that had happen'd, and to be fur- 
 niih'd with a Habit more fuitable to the Honours he 
 receiv'd from Don Alonfo, than thofe he had brought 
 with him from the Garden of Don Le-wis. Before 
 that Day was over, the whole City was full of the 
 Adventure of Don Jayme with Donna Elvira -, and 
 
 this 
 
204 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 this is a Misfortune, to which all Great Houfes, that 
 are fill'd with numerous Domefticks, are liable -, no- 
 thing can be Secret, if of any Moment ; no fooner is 
 any thing of Importance trania&ed , or doth happen in 
 fuch Families, but 'tis prefently divulg'd, and made a 
 Town-talk. This Story was told a thoufand feveral 
 ways, but all to the Difadvantage of Donna Ehira ; 
 at which, Don Jayme was very ienfibly touch'd. In 
 a very few Days, the Friendmip between thefe two 
 Cavaliers was become the moil firm and moil en- 
 dearing in the World. For Don Alonfo made daily 
 Difcoveries of noble Qualities in his new Friend ; 
 and poffeffing, on his part, Qualities highly valuable, 
 and worthy the Efteem of a Man, who, like Ozmin, 
 both knew what Merit was, and poffefs'd it and ho- 
 nour'd it, both of them were equally fatisfied. Thus 
 neither could refufe his Friendihip to the other, 
 where he faw it courted, honour'd, valued and de- 
 ferv'd. Both of them long'd to know how Matters 
 went at Don Lewis's, and to have more particular 
 News concerning Donna Elvira, than what the Pu- 
 blickTalk afforded ; for, according tothofe Rumours, 
 íhe was ihut up in a Chamber, where none but her 
 Father had liberty to fee her, befides one Woman 
 that attended her. There was none but Clarkia could 
 pofïibly give them any Information; nor íhe, but with 
 a world of Difficulty ; it was become fo very hard to 
 ileal out, fo as to get fo far as to Don Alonfo s. For 
 the Servants had now no manner of Liberty to ilir a- 
 broad ; and Claricia was obferv'd more nearly than 
 the reft, becaufe of the Confidence her Miílreís was 
 known to repofe in her. But however, íhe did now 
 and then make a hard ihift to g&t fo far as to Don A- 
 ¡onfo's. And íhe it was that inform'd them of all that 
 pafs'd that Night ; and the Rage and Defpair of 
 Don Lewis, for having mifs'd his Aim, and not taking 
 the Counterfeit Ambrcjio, whom he had refolv'd to dif- 
 patch, had he got him ; but that it could never be 
 
 com- 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 205 
 
 comprehended how he got away : That i o or 12 Men 
 had been employ'd to fearch after him in the City, 
 and that he was ftill fought for *, but 'twas believ'd 
 he was retir'd : That Donna Elvira had been fick to 
 extremity ; and that Daraxa had alfo been much in- 
 difpos'd, whether from the Part ihe took in her 
 Friend's Affliction, or from the Fright at the Noife 
 of ib many Muskets, and the Hurry andBuftle of that 
 diforderly Night, wherein none of the Family had 
 flept or refted : That Don Lewis had conceiv'd ib 
 much Grief and Vexation at this whole Matter, that 
 he had never been abroad fince, nor would fee or 
 fpeak with any Body ; and that 'twas faid, he would 
 go into the Country for a Month, to give Time for all 
 thefe Rumours to blow over. Thefe two Lovers ha- 
 ving thus been inform'd of all thefe Particulars, it 
 ferv'd them for matter of Converfation and Mirth ; 
 efpecially Don Alonfo, who had no Kindnefs for the 
 Family of Don Lewis, and therefore only diverted 
 himfelf with the Diforders of it, and turn'd them in- 
 to Ridicule and Banter. As for Don J ay me, who 
 was -now out of the reach of Don Lewis's Rage, 
 Don Alonfo advis'd him to make ufe of this Maid, 
 and write, by her, to Donna Elvira, to comfort her a 
 little in her Affli&ion. 'Tis true, indeed, that Cla- 
 ricia had no permiiîîon to fee Donna Elvira, any more 
 than others had • but as Daraxa, to whom Don Lewis 
 had not dar'd to forbid the going into his Daughters 
 Chamber, was almoft always with her, it was very 
 likely ihe would make no Scruple to give fuch a Bit- 
 let to her Friend, or rather that ihe would take Plea- 
 fure in doing it. Don Jayme, as you may well guefs, 
 was not over-hard to be perfwaded by his Friend ; 
 ib leaving him to difcourfe with Clarlcia as much as he 
 pleas'd, he retir'd to write, not to Donna Elvira, but 
 to Daraxa her felf, a very long Letter in the Moorifl 
 Tongue, to give her an Account of all that had hap- 
 pend to him on the Night of the Musket-alarm. 
 
 Daraxa 
 
2o6 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Daraxa receiv'd this Letter with an extream Joy ; for 
 íhe knew nothings till then, of what was become of 
 her dear Lover ; and íhe was in a continual and 
 mortal Appreheniion, left he ihould been wounded 
 by the many Musket-ihots that, as íhe thought, were 
 fir'd at him. She had not begun to be in any Health 
 of Body, or Quiet of Mind, till the Receipt of this wel- 
 come Letter ; and íhe made ufe of the fame Pretext, and 
 the fame Conveyance, to fend him her Anfwer ; Claricia 
 having profFer'd her felf to carry it, that íhe might 
 render her Lady an agreeable Service. Some Days 
 after, Don Lewis, as this Maid had told them, went 
 with all his Family to his Country-Seat, about a 
 League from Scvil, and it was not certainly known 
 how long he would continue there. This put O^min 
 out of Humour ; for by this Abfence, he faw himfelf 
 depriv'd of Claricia s Négociation, which was to him 
 of exceeding Ufe. But Don Alonfo foon found out 
 an Expedient to content him ; for he told him, that 
 he had a Houfe within a quarter of a League of 
 Don Lewis's ; that they had nothing to do but to go 
 thither ; and that they might eafily there find Means 
 to have a more fpeedy and certain Account of their 
 MiítreíTes, than they could do in Town ; and even 
 to have Accefs to them, and be in frequent Conver- 
 fation with them. Don Jayme exceedingly approv'd 
 this Defign, and the very next Day they went thi- 
 ther with Orviedo, attended only by two Footmen, 
 to make the lefs Noife. They poiied themfelves in 
 this Houfe, one of the fineft in all thofe Parts. It 
 only remain'd to let Claricia know they were there, 
 and earneftly defir'd to ipeak with her. Don Alonfo 
 quickly found out a Peaiant fit for this Meflage ; for 
 they are admirable Fellows in this Country. But not 
 to give this Maid the Trouble of coming fo far, he 
 caus'd her to be appointed to come to a beautiful 
 Grove that lay within Musket-ihot of Don Lewiss 
 Houfe, where they met together ; Don Alonfo- and 
 *** Don 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. $07 
 
 Don Jayme being difguis'd like Peafants. The Con- 
 verfation by Letters was thus reviv'd ; but this was 
 but an indifferent Satisfaction for our two Cavaliers, 
 efpecially for Don Alonfo, who had fcarce any Share 
 in that way of Converting, but juft what his Friend 
 was pleas'd to admit him to by way of Generolity, 
 or rather of Amufement. Don Ahnfo therefore moil 
 earneftly prefs'd Claricia to prevail with the two fair 
 Ladies, to admit them to a fmall Interview and per- 
 fonal Converfation with them ; for Donna Elvira 
 now began to walk about, and Daraxa was in perfect 
 Health. But how was it poffible with two fuch 
 eternally watchful Guardians, as Don Lewis and Don 
 Rodrigo, who had been once already catch'd, and the 
 Wound was flill fo frelh ? It happen'd neverthelefs 
 one Day, that Don Rodrigo being gone to Scvil, his 
 Father was oblig'd upon occafion of an Affair of 
 Confequence, that was juft fallen out, in an Eftate 
 that he had about a League from the Place of his then 
 Refidence, to get a Horfe-back forthwith, in order 
 to be there with all poffible fpeed to give his Or- 
 ders about it,becaufe the Nature of the Thing prefs'd, 
 and very much requir'd his immediate Prefence. He 
 made as little Noife and Talk about his Journey as 
 poffibly he could, and told his People as he went 
 away, that he fhould return in half an Hour ; but as 
 it was very well known in the Family what he went 
 about, and to what Place, 'twas thought impoffible 
 for him to return, whatever Difpatch he made, in 
 lefs than three Flours. Our two Beauties, and our 
 Brace of Lovers, could fcarce wiih for a fairer Op- 
 portunity, and they all were refolv'd to lay hold of it. 
 Claricia manag'd the Matter with her ufual Dexteri- 
 ty. The two Lovers difguis'd themfelves like ordi- 
 nary Peafants for their better Concealment, as was 
 agreed among all Parties, and, without lofing time, 
 away they went to the Grove that I lately mention- 
 ed Don Jayme, as moft intimate with the Ladies, 
 
 walk'd 
 
 
2 o 8 The Ufe and A ft ions Parti. 
 
 walk'd out towards Don Lewi* s Houfe, to fee whe- 
 ther they muft go from the Grove thither, or that 
 the Ladies would venture out; but he met them hard 
 by coming up towards the Grove to walk there with 
 them ; and that the Frolick might be more uniform, 
 they had taken the Habit of Shepherdeifes as near as 
 they could imitate them, and were only attended by 
 their two Confidents, Lay ¿a and Claricia. There is 
 nothing more delightful and entertaining than thele 
 lbrt of itolen Meetings, but then they are no leu 
 Slippery and Dangerous. This prefent Meeting be- 
 gan with an equal Excefs of Joy on all Sides, firft to 
 fee one another , and then at the beholding their 
 feveral Difguifes, laughing and pleafantly jelling 
 at them. The Converfation was at firft General, 
 and yet Charming between thefe four extraordinary 
 Perfons, who were all in Raptures of Pleafure, at 
 being once more fo near to what they fo much lov'd. 
 They were beginning to defcend into the Walks of 
 this Grove, which were wonderfully pleafant and 
 agreeable, when they perceived thro' the Trees two 
 real Peafants coming along that way, whom they 
 took to be fome that belong'd to the Town adjoin- 
 ing to Don Lewis's Houfe , as indeed they were. 
 They could not imagine what Bufinefs they had 
 there, for they were not allow'd the freedom of that 
 Place ; however they thought proper not to take 
 any notice, but let them pafs by ; yet as they came 
 on ftrait towards them, whether thro 5 Curiofity, or 
 fome other Reafon unknown to them, the Ladies, to 
 prevent their Faces from being feen, which might 
 have betray'd them, flood playing with their Fingers 
 upon the Trees , and Don J ay me before them with 
 his Back towards the Peafants. Don Alonfo 3 w\\o ftay'd 
 ibme Paces behind, being as little willing to be feen y 
 flood in a like Poft, pretending to be amufing him- 
 felf with fome fort of Trifle, when all of a fudden 
 he felt himfelf faluted with a good found Blow of a 
 *** Cudgel, 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfaráche. 20^ 
 
 Cudgel that almoft fhm'd him. Don Jspnt having 
 heard the Blow, turn'd about in a Moment, and very 
 luckily too, for there was the fame Sauce preparing 
 for him ; but as he was inimitably active and nimble, 
 he avoided part of the Blow, fo that it Aid down his 
 Back without much Hurt. One may guefs what Re- 
 turn was fit for fuch a Salutation : His Staff was not 
 of the bignefs of the Áffailañts, but the Strength 
 and Vigour of his Arm was at leait equal to that of 
 the ftrongeft Peafant • fo that with one back Stroke, 
 taking him juft in the Face, he broke half his Jaw, 
 and laid him flat upon the Ground. His Stick was 
 broken by the violence of the Blow, but he prefent- 
 ly feiz'd the thundring Cudgel of the Raskally Pea- 
 ííint, whom he had handled fo handfomly, and ran 
 to the Affiftance of Don Alonfo, who flood in great 
 need of it, for he was hard put to it by his Antago- 
 nift, and redue'd to Fight and Retreat. But this 
 Fellow, having feen his Corn-Rogue ftruck down at 
 once, thought 'twas in vain to (lay with fo dangerous 
 an Enemy, and therefore ran away to the Town as hard 
 as he could drive. There he put them all in Alarm ¿ tel- 
 ling them his Comrade was kill'd, tho', in Truth, he 
 was but wounded. Don Jaytne would not give him- 
 felf the trouble to puifue him, for fear of abandoning 
 the Ladies and Don Alortfo, whofe Condition he could 
 not tell ; but the firft Blow that was given him had 
 only amaz'd him, tho' it were a very violent one, the 
 Tree, againft which he was leaning, having broken 
 the force of it. He had receiv'd another Blow upon 
 his Arm that was more troublefome to him ; but the 
 whole was no great Matter, and they had itil only 
 turn'd it into Raillery, but for the Confequence, be- 
 caufe of the Ladies ; who feeing all this Confufion, 
 had very prudently betaken themfelves to Flight, ex- 
 treamly alarm'd, and mightily concern'd for what 
 might be the IlTue of it. But the Matter refted not 
 here - 3 for as. our two Cavaliers were reafoning the 
 
 P Cafe, 
 
2 1 o The Life and Anions Pare I. 
 
 Cafe, and confidering whether they ihould make any 
 further Attempt for that time to fee the Ladies, or 
 ihould return Home, they were fuddenly attack'd by 
 three Ruffians from the Town, who came running 
 upon them with drawn Swords. The firft of them, 
 who was the brisker! and likelieft Fellow of the three, 
 haftening more forward than the reft to ihew his 
 Courage, chanc'd to light upon Oz,min, whom he 
 thought to fpit with the firft Stroke, and he did 
 wound him in the Hand, but he quickly found his 
 Requital ; for Ozmm return'd him fuch a Blow upon 
 the Head with the Peafant's heavy Truncheon, that 
 lie laid him flat at once ; and his Sword, which was 
 of a good handfome length, flood our Cavalier in 
 great ftead againft the two others, who came pre- 
 sently up with him ; but being feconded by Don A- 
 lonfoy who tho' he had nothing but a Stick, yet laid 
 on thick, and drub'd them to the purpofe, they to- 
 gether far over-match'd them ; and having wounded 
 both of them, they drove them, too warmly, to the 
 very Towns-end. The Town was all up in Arms, 
 upon occafion of the Fellow that had been kill'd, 
 who happen'd to be the Son of the Town-Bailiff : By 
 this Rabble of Clod-Pates they were inftantly iur- 
 rounded, and charg'd by 2 or 300 of them arm'd 
 with Cudgels, Iron-pointed Clubs, fome few Fire- 
 Arms for a Shew, for there was not an Ounce of 
 Powder in the whole Town, feveral old Swords, 
 Flails and Spits. This ill appointed Crowd were yet, 
 by their Numbers and Violence, exceeding trouble- 
 fome to our two young Hero's ; and efpecially with 
 their long Poles and Quarter-Staves, more than all 
 the reft ; for befides the Blows they gave with them 
 at a diftance, they were thrown between their Legs, 
 by which they were frequently put to the ftumble ; 
 jfometimes ready to tumble backwards, and fbmetimes 
 upon their Nofes - } and, at laft, Ozwin was actually 
 thus thrown down, as he was getting forward to 
 
 fuc- 
 
fiooíc I. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 2 1 1 
 
 fuccour Don Aionfo, to whom he had given a fécond 
 Sword he had feiz'd, but which could not prevent hie 
 being taken, and himfelf alio foon after, by occaiion 
 of one of thefe Poles unluckily thrown between his 
 Legs, as I told you. It threw him down, and the 
 Whole Mob taking the Advantage, fell prefently 
 upon him, and fecurd him -, for as he appear'd 
 the moil a<5Hve and animated againft them, they 
 ehiefiy aim'd at him. There had been 3 Men kill'd 
 out-right, and all laid to him, befides 10 or 12 that 
 were very much wounded ; and God knows how hô 
 had been us'd by that Kennel of furious Hounds in 
 the Rage they were in, and having now got him 
 into their Clutches, if happily for him, and chiefly 
 for Don Aionfo who was all over bloody, two Gen- 
 tlemen of Quality had not chane'd, juft in the very 
 nick, to pafs through this Town in their Way to Se- 
 vil, follow'd by three or four Servants. Thefe Gen- 
 tlemen, curious to know the Meaning of all this 
 Mob and Tumult, forcibly open'd the Crowd, Sword 
 in Hand, and came up to Don Aionfo, whom they 
 prefently knew, nnd were greatly furpriz'd, but reí- 
 cu'd him from this Pack of Raskals, not without Dan- 
 ger of their own lives, two of their Servants being 
 very much wounded. This made the Peafants care- 
 ful to fecure their other Prifoner; and that was the 
 faving of his Life. ' In the mean time, Don Aionfo, 
 tho' in no Condition to ferve his Friend, could not 
 confent to leave the Place, without feeing him at Li- 
 berty- and openly declared, he had rather die with 
 him, or be impriion'd with him, than thus abandon 
 him. But thefe Gentlemen reprefented to. him the 
 impoiîîbility of refcuing his Friend, becaufe he was 
 now actually ihut up in the Bailiffs own Houfe, who 
 had been all along at the Head of this Rabble, anima- 
 ting them to revenge the Death of his Son- and 
 who kept the Mob mil up in Arms round his Houfe 
 to fecure the Prifoner. They were of Opinion, 
 
 P z that 
 
212 The Life and ARions Part I. 
 
 that what they could beft and moil properly do, was, 
 without loiing a Moment's Time, to go and aifemble 
 all the Friends they could get together, and to come 
 in the Night, they and their Servants, and refcue 
 him by force. Don Aionfo yielded to the Weight of 
 this Advice, as very reafonable and probable ; and 
 this had been actually done as it was projected, had 
 not the Bailiff, fufpe&ing fome fuch Violence, fent 
 away to Scvil immediately, to inform the Magiilrates 
 and Courts of Juilice ; who prefently Tent a Com- 
 pany of the ufual Guards, and other, arm'd Men, 
 to fecure the Peace and Prifoner ; which broke all 
 the Meafures of thefe Gentlemen, who had already 
 got together at leail 40 Mailers and Men. One 
 may well conjecture, in what Pain, in what Alarm, 
 the two Ladies were, for they were too near all this 
 JBuille and Confufion, to be totally ignorant of what 
 was doing ; and they had too much Intereil in it, 
 not to inform themfelves.. All the Domeilicks of 
 Don Lewis, both Women and Men, were in the Field 
 to fee the Event of this notable Campaign, their 
 Mailer not being yet returned. They all knew Am- 
 brofio again, and they were every Moment, one or 
 other, bringing News of the flain and the wounded, 
 and of all the confiderable Actions and Palfages- but 
 'twas always in favour of the Brave Ambrofio, of 
 whom they talk'd, as of the moil terrible Man they 
 ever law in their Lives, and yet with Pleafure, for 
 they all lov'd him. 'Twas no fooner known that he 
 was taken, but Donna Elvira, in concert with Daraxa, 
 fent to tell the Bailiff, that he ihould take heed what 
 he did ; for if that Man were injur'd, his Life would 
 anfwer it. This Meifage was admirably timed, and 
 provd exceeding ferviceable to him ; for from that 
 .Moment he was better treated, and more confider'dj 
 and as all Don Lewis's Family had free Accefs at the 
 Bailiff's Houfe, who was an Officer of their Mailer's, 
 they had all pf them free Liberty to fee the Prifoner,and 
 
 they 
 
Book I. of Guzman cPAlfarache. 2 1 3 
 
 they brought him all manner of Refrefhments. All 
 of them, even to Claricia and Laida, would needs 
 have the Pleafure of feeing and ferving him ; and 
 the laft of them gave him a Billet from her Lady, 
 which ihe dipt into his Hand, unperceiv'd by the 
 reft : It was pretty near in thefe Terms ; 
 
 iC As there is no Body but your felf, Ozjnin, that 
 " knows, to what an excefs I love you ; fo there is 
 (C none but you chat can poffibly guefs, what I have 
 ff gone through within thefe laft Three or Four 
 ff Hours. Death it felf is a lefs Evil, than this Con- 
 <c dition wherein I find my felf, for your fake. 
 cc One cannot fear Death, when one loves ; and 
 <c when that which is belov'd is involv'd in fuch a 
 <c Danger, as that wherein my only ill Fortune 
 " has piung'd you. I fend Laida to know how 
 " you are ; whether you are wounded, and if your 
 u Life be in danger. Mine depends on yours. Let 
 fC me, if poflible, know how it fares with youj hy 
 cc your own dear Hand - y for nothing but trie Cha- 
 <c ratters of that Hand, can Calm the violent Tem- 
 " pefts of my Heart. Ah ! wretched Day, for me î 
 " and yet more wretched Night ! unleis I am fo 
 <c happy as to be aifur'd, that I have nothing to apr 
 tc prebend in point of Danger to you ! elfe, this will 
 fc be my laft » and you ihall not die alone. Has 
 <c Love made and fram'd us for each other, only to 
 " render us, even by that, fo much the more mife- 
 c< rabie ? At leaft, we cannot be depriv'd of the 
 (C Pleafure of dying together. That will depend 
 r* c upon the News that Claricia and Laida will bring 
 cc me. Till then, I have no Repofe ; but ftruggle 
 (c in the Confines of I ife and Death, telling all the 
 cc Minutes. Moft milcrable State ! But if no Oz,- 
 iC min i depend upon't, thef-e can be no DaVhxa. 
 
 ADIEU. 
 
 V 1 This 
 
214 Tte Ltf e an d Anions Part I. 
 
 This faithful Lover having taken a fit Time to 
 read this welcome Letter, and having his Pencil 
 and Writing-Tablets about him, as was ufual for the 
 Men of Quality of thofe Times, and efpecially the 
 Moors, he therein wrote this Anfwer : 
 
 Ci Had I pour'd out all my Blood for your fake, 
 
 tc moil lovely Daraxa , yet I could not have me- 
 
 cc rited the Tendernefs and Regard you exprefs for 
 
 " my Life. That Life, you are To pleafed to Prize, 
 
 cc is hitherto fecure. I have been careful of it, as of 
 
 ' Somthing that had the Honour to be devoted 
 
 c to you ; but now it will indeed become precious 
 
 tc and eftimable, fince you are pleas'd to fix it to 
 
 " your own. Live, charming Daraxa, and hope 
 
 c better of Love. He is a God, of endlefs Powers 
 
 " and Manners of retrieving, far beyond all our 
 
 " Proipeds. He never intirely abandons true and 
 
 ff faithful Lovers. He has begun with us by Pains 
 
 <c and Miferies : He will make an end by Joys and 
 
 " Pleafures. I have intirely fubmitted my felf to 
 
 * him : 'Tis on his Part now, to Ihew his Power 
 
 f and Care, and Goodnefs towards me. It has this 
 
 f Day coft you fome Tears : He will repay them, 
 
 c with Ufuiy, in Joys ; and will ftill preferve you, 
 
 Tour Faithful 
 
 OZMIN. 
 
 Laida had no fooner got this Anfwer from our 
 Lover, but ihe and Clarkia went back to their 
 Ladies, and gave them an account of the Condition 
 he was in ¿ and that he had but two or three flight 
 Wounds. They prefently fent him whatever he 
 could poffibly want to forward his Cure, and make 
 all Things eafie to him. But at laft Don Lewis 
 returns, to the Difturbance of all the little Confo- 
 îation that they yet retain'd amidft this great Mis- 
 fortune. 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache.' 2 1 5 
 
 fortune. He was not able to make Head or Tail 
 of all this Tumult and Diforder of his Town, from 
 the Pcafants he had met and talk'd with ; they all 
 fpoke of it fo varioufly and confufedly. But when 
 he was got home, he prefently underitood a great 
 part of the Matter. He was diilin&ly told every 
 Particular, except the going abroad of the two 
 Ladies ; of which, none in the whole Family had 
 any Knowledge, befides the two Confidents. This 
 new Infolence, of the pretended Ambrofo, put him 
 in fuch a Rage, that he was no longer Mailer of 
 himfelf. He was perfwaded, that this Matter was 
 not tranfa&ed without his Daughter's being fome 
 way or other concem'd in it ¿ and he inclin'd to 
 believe, that ihe had caus'd him to have exa& No- 
 tice of his Departure from home by fome unknown 
 Method or other. And what ilill more inflam'd 
 him, was to obferve, that Daraxa was likewife em- 
 bark'd in this Intrigue ; there being, in his Opi- 
 nion, no manner of Doubt, but that Don Aionfo, 
 who had been plainly difcern'd and known as well 
 as the other, was prefent upon this Occafion, for 
 her fake ; and fome way or other in expe&ation of 
 feeing her, or hearing from her. This Thought 
 fill'd him with Trouble and Vexation ; and, in that 
 Paiîîon, he would fee neither of them. But as 
 for his Daughter, he gave ftrift Command and Di- 
 rections that íhe íhould be ihut up again • and 
 watch'd and guarded, and confin'd, more rigidly 
 than ever. All his Comfort was, that the Spark 
 was catch'd ; but for that, moil certainly he had 
 buril with Rage, or died of Grief. He was now 
 full of Hope, that this time it would be impoilible 
 for him to efcape him ; and that he íhould have 
 the Pleafure of making him fall a Sacrifice to his 
 Rage. Heaven only knows, after what fort he fent 
 to engage the Bailiff's Care of him. But after 
 various Ruminatings, he began at laft to confider 
 
 P 4 ' this 
 
2 1 6 The Lije and Aftions Part I. 
 
 this Adventure, as an Act of Divine Juftice ; and as 
 if God himfelf had delivered this Man into his 
 Hands, to repair his Honour, and glut his Revenge. 
 He defir'd to be inftru&ed in all the Particulars of 
 this Affair, from firft to lait ; and fent into the 
 Town, for all that might probably be beft able 
 to inform him. He was told, that all this Misfor- 
 tune happen d purely from a Miftake of the Bai- 
 liff's Son i who being in Love with a Neighbour's 
 Daughter, a very pretty Girl, and one that had a 
 good Portion, and having a Rival, a Farmer's Son, 
 who dwelt about half a League from the Town, 
 and was more welcome than he, both to Father and 
 Daughter, becaufe he was in better Circumftances 
 of Fortune , and a more ' ibber and regu'ar Lad 
 than the Bailiff's Son ; this latter had caus'd him 
 to be threatned to have him well driib'd, if ever 
 he could find that he came any more near his Mi- 
 itrefs ; and having notice given, that two Men 
 habited like ordinary Country-Fellows,, but teem- 
 ing to be fomething better than meer Clowns, were 
 that Day ñipt into the Grove, he had made no doubt 
 but 'twas his Rival, with a Comrade of his that 
 us'd to be with him when he vifited their pretty 
 Miftrefs ; and that they were thus in Difguife to 
 avoid the Drubbing they had been threatn'd withal. 
 Upon this, the Bailiff's Son liad fent two Peafants, 
 employ'd by him for this Execution, who were two. 
 of the boldcfl and ftrongeft young Fellows that be- 
 long'd to the Town ; and lie himfelf follow'd them 
 at a little diftance, with two of his Friends, in or- 
 der to affift them, if Caufe requir'd. Don Lewis 
 plainly faw, by this exacl: and true Relation, That 
 all the Fault and Blame was in the Bailiff's Son, 
 and the Peafants ; and that what the Gentlemen had 
 done, had been only in their own Defence, and 
 çonfequently they were entirely free from any legal 
 Crime : But he was tcp much incens'd againft the 
 
 pretended 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 217 
 
 pretended Ambrofio, to omit doing all that lay in 
 him to make him Teem Criminal., tho' he was not 
 in Fault ; and this Opportunity of ridding him out of 
 the way, was too favourable a Juncture to be let flip. 
 lie nothing doubted, but that Don Alonfo would on 
 his part employ all his Power and Credit to fave 
 him - y but then, this young Lord had not that 
 Power and Intereft with the Judges and Magi- 
 ilrates that he might poiîîbly fuppole he had ; but 
 that Don Lewis knew himfelf really had, and there- 
 fore he was very well aflur'd of carrying it from 
 him, in Point of Power and Intereft there. There 
 had not one word been told him, of the Meet- 
 ing between the Indies and the Gentlemen, becaufe 
 one of the two Pealants, he whofe Jaws had been 
 broke, was in no Condition to Talk ; and the 
 other had been kill'd by returning into the Scuffle, 
 and none elfe had feen them together. -Don Lewis 
 fent the Bailiff all neceffary Inftru&ions to profecute 
 the Prifoner with the utmoft Rigour j aiTuring him 
 of his Prote&ion, his Credit, and his Purfe,. in this 
 whole Affair, when ever he wanted them ; and not 
 only for himfelf, but for all that were concern'd, 
 as well on the Part of thofe that had been kill'd, as 
 alfo for the wounded Perfons. He directed, that 
 they ihould go the next Day, all in a Body, to Se- 
 vilj and throw themfelves at the Feet of the Magi- 
 ilrates, crying for Juilice. This was accordingly 
 done ; and it fo mov'd the People, that there was 
 all the Difficulty in the World to preferve the Pri- 
 foner from their miftaken Fury when he was 
 brought up into the City, which was the next Day, 
 about Ten in the Morning. His Guard had been 
 doubled, becaufe of a Rumour, that fome Cava- 
 liers of Don Alonfo $ Friends intended to Refcue 
 him from the Officers of Juftice, as he ihould be 
 bringing up ço Sevil ; but they were not yet ftrong 
 enough for fuch an. Exploit, or rather they wanted 
 
 at 
 
2 1 8 The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 at their Head a Man of fufncient A&ivity and Vi- 
 gour, and one that would fo heartily Elpoufe the 
 Matter, as to undertake and manage it with Spirit 
 and Refolution, and animate others by his own Ex- 
 ample. Don Alonfoy to his great Regret, continuing 
 ïo ill, as not to have ftrength to fit his Horfe, Don 
 Lewis, ftill boiling with Rage, and breathing no- 
 thing but Revenge, and who had not been in Bed 
 all that Night, caus'd all his Equipage to be got 
 ready betimes in the Morning, to return to Sevil 
 with all his Family ; where he knew his Prefence 
 would be neceffary to pufh on this Bufinefs with the 
 utmoft Rigour, and get it difpatch'd according to the 
 Violence and Impetuofity of his Paflîon. Daraxa 
 faw all his Procedure with an inexpreflible Grief, 
 tho' indeed 'twas no more than íhe expe&ed from 
 a Man of Don Lewis's Humour ; believing, with 
 Reafon, that the Confideration of the fuppos'd In- 
 trigue between Donna Elvira and Ozmin would 
 prove of dangerous Confequence to him. But as to 
 returning to Sevil, íhe was no lefs defirous of it 
 than Don Lewis himfelf, to fee how this Matter 
 was like to go, and to have frequently an Account 
 of all Particulars relating to it j to the end, that, 
 without ftaying for the laft Extremity, if íhe íhoula 
 find Qzjniris Life in Danger, and that there was no 
 more Time left to carry on his Difguife, íhe might 
 difcover his Name and Quality ; being throughly 
 perfuaded, as me had good ^Reafon to be , that 
 the Judges, after fuch a Declaration, would not 
 dare to make any further Step, without exprefs Or- 
 ders from their Majefties. But what cruel Alarm 
 was it to her ! when íhe was inforrnd, and even 
 heard the loud Out-cries of the People, that 
 they demanded his Death with clamorous Impor- 
 tunities : There was nothing left to Comfort 
 her but the generous Ardour, wherewith íhe was 
 very iènfible Don Alon[o 3 and all his Relations and 
 
 Friends, 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 2 r? 
 
 Friends, employed their whole Credit and Intereft, 
 with indefatigable Zeal, for his Prefervation. This 
 young Lord feeing the Danger to which his Friend 
 was expos'd, and that the Judges reprefented to 
 thofe that follicited for his dear Don Jayme, that 
 'twas a very great Favour that Don Aonfo himfelf 
 was not fecur'd and profecuted ; and that, in refpe& 
 to him, they were willing to ad the Blind and 
 Deaf Part ; but that the Slaughter and Wounds, 
 and Maiming of fo many Perfons, call'd aloud for 
 Juftice ; and that were he himfelf in the Priibner's 
 Place, they ihould poffibly be hard put to it to be 
 able to fave him. This Lord, I fay, hearing of 
 all thefe grave and wife Reaibnings, could no lon- 
 ger be kept in Bed by any Consideration of his 
 Wounds and Weakneft • but caufing himfelf to be 
 carried with his Head and Arm bound up, and al- 
 moft half dead, he went in that Condition from 
 Judge to Judge ; and reprefented to them, the cry- 
 ing Injuftice they would do to a Man of fuch un- 
 common Merit, in condemning him to Çeath, on- 
 ly for defending his Life againft a crew of AíTat 
 fins, and a tumultuous Rabble. This indeed pro- 
 duced fome vifible Effect, but not enough to have 
 íaved Don Jayme, but for fome unexpected News 
 that came ; which breaking all the Meafures of 
 DonZ.cM>ú,difcover'd, reftor a and pacifi'd all Things. 
 This was begun by an Exprefs the Queen had 
 difpatch'd to Don Lewis, and which arriv'd at Sevil 
 the fécond Day of this Procefs. The Queen, by 
 this Courier, acquainted him with the ííirrender of 
 the City of Gravada ; and gave him Orders, to 
 caufe Daraxa to fet forwards immediately, and to 
 accompany her himfelf ; becaufe her Father, who 
 extreamly wiíh'd to fee her, had defir'd to turn 
 Chrifiian, he and all his Family • and 'twas hop'd 
 ihe might be moved, by that Example, to embrace 
 Christianity likewife. There came alfo Letters for 
 
 Daraxa. 
 
220 The Life and AStions Part I. 
 
 Daraxa, one from the Queen, and the reft from her 
 Father, and other Relations : But Don Lewis, fol- 
 lowing the Dictates of his refiiï d Politicks, was un- 
 willing to leave unfiniñVd this darling Profecution, 
 now he had brought it fo fairly forward ; and that 
 he hoped to fee it compleated the very next day, 
 by obtaining a Sentence of Death againft the Pri- 
 foner ; as indeed he did : He therefore judg'd it 
 moil proper not to deliver thefe Letters to the 
 Moorijh Lady ; nor to fay any thing at all to her 
 concerning this great News ; nor let her know of 
 the Courier ; but hide all from her, left in her 
 Impatience of returning to her Parents, íhe ihould 
 conftrain him to be going before he had finiih'd 
 his fine Piece of Juftice. He therefore redoubled 
 his Efforts, his Diligence and Solicitations, the reft 
 of that Day , and in fine, he follow'd it fo clofe, 
 that the next Day, about Eleven in the Forenoon, 
 Don J ay me was cOndemn'd to have his Head cut off, 
 and Orders were at the fame time given for the 
 Execution ; which was to be done upon the fourth 
 Day from the Sentence. Don Jlonfo, who had a 
 very early Account of this unjuft Judgment, fent 
 word of it forthwith to the two Ladies ; but he al- 
 fo let them know, that he had already ahove Three 
 hundred Men in a readinefs for Action, and that 
 he and his Friends would all perifh, rather than fuffer 
 fuch an Injuftice. Such Promifes, how well fo ever 
 meant, yet having twice already fail'd, were not 
 of Force fufficient to revive the languid Spirits of 
 the deíblate Dar axa. She was under an inconceivable 
 Affli&ion. She went to Don Lewis, who was but 
 juft come from the Palace, where he had been all 
 the Morning ; and talk'd to him at fuch a rate 
 with fo much Haughtinefs, and fuch extraordinary 
 Tranfports, that íhe no longer feem'd to be the 
 fame Perfon. She told him, íhe would Poniard 
 him with her own Hand, but that íhe was aifur'd 
 
 there 
 
Book I of Guzman d'Alfarache. 221 
 
 there were thofe among her Relations, who could 
 and would acquit themfelves of it much better than 
 ihe could do. She added, that it was her Lover and 
 her Husband whom he had thus purfued to Death, 
 and not the Gallant of his Daughter • for whom, a 
 Man of his Sort and his Quality was by no means 
 made. That he was a kinfman to the King of 
 Granada; whofe Blood, notwithftanding the War, 
 could not be ihed upon a Scaffold with Impunity. 
 That theReparation for it would in a particular manner 
 be exa&ed from him; becaufe he alone would be the 
 Caufe of his Death, as he already was of the cruel 
 Sentence pronounc d againft him by unworthy and 
 unjuft Judges, he having done nothing that deferv'd 
 it. She went on yet farther, enlarging upon many 
 Points ; which, not to tire you, I omit. The amaz'd 
 Don Lewis found himfelf ftrangely embarrafsd at the 
 hearing of thefe Particulars, and fo many Menaces. 
 All ihe told him, had been lb remote from his Ideas 
 and Conceptions of Thing?, that notwithftanding 
 the violent Tranfports wherein he faw her, which 
 had a peculiar perfwafive Language of their own, 
 and plainly iliew'd the Intereft ihe had in the Life of 
 this Man ; yet he fcarce knew what to believe, nor 
 what to reply, but ftood like a Man (truck Speech- 
 lefs, and over-whelm'd with Reproaches and Con- 
 fufion. He began, however, at length to tell her, 
 that the greateft Fault was on her fide, in not having 
 fooner told him of thefe Things, that he did not 
 deny his having folicited againft that Man; but then 
 he was concernd in Honour to do it, there having 
 no Regard been had to him in the feeming At- 
 tempt upon his Daughter. Daraxa was going to in- 
 terrupt nim, to make him fenfible that Oz,min had 
 not at all contributed to the ExceiTes of Donna EU 
 vira; buta Servant came and whifper'd Don Lewis } 
 that there was juft now a great number of Perfons 
 and Equipages come to the Gace ; who were thought 
 
 to 
 
222 The Life and AStiùns Part I. 
 
 to be Moors, and ask'd to fpeak with Daraxa. Don 
 Lewis appeared thoughtful at this News, and humbly 
 befought the afflicted Moorijh Lady to permit him to 
 leave her for a Moment, and he would inftantly re- 
 turn ; but ihe, whom the fmalleft Matter difcom- 
 pos'd in ,the agony of Soul wherein ilie was, 
 had prefently a ftrong Curiofity to know what might 
 be the Matter, not having been able to hear one 
 Word of what the Servant had faid ; fo ihe ran to 
 the Window to fee who it might be, whofe inquiring 
 for Don Lewù had made him feem fo aftoniih'd ; but 
 íhe her felf was yet more fo¿ when ihe faw they 
 were Moors, with a great number of Horfes, and 
 that the greateft part of the Men ieem'd to be People 
 that belong'd to her Father. Her Joy was already 
 fo great at the firil bare Apprehenfion of it, that her 
 Heart paffing too fwiftly from one Extremity to ano- 
 ther, ihe had fcarce Strength to bear it, and was 
 juft ready to fink into a Trance ; and this Surprife 
 ftill encreas'd upon her, when ihe faw enter the 
 Room, where Ihe was, an Officer of her Fathers, 
 whom Don Lewis himfelf came and prefented to her. 
 This Officer, after having firft paid her the RefpecT: 
 and Duty owing to her Quality, acquainted her that 
 the War was now at an end, the City of Granada being* 
 taken ; and that her Father, having obtain'd their 
 Catholick Majefties Permifîîon for her Return, had 
 fent her an Equipage and Attendance fit for her il- 
 luftrious Birth ; adding, that he prefum'd ihe was al- 
 ready inftru&ed in all thefe Particulars, by the Cou- 
 rier whom the Queen had fent Exprefs to her, and 
 ^vho had Orders to give her feveral Letters. But 
 thefe Letters had been till now detain'd from her by 
 Don Lewis j who, being no longer able to avoid gi- 
 ving them up to her, did it with much Confufion, 
 and many Blufhes, and the beft Excufes he could 
 frame. She was fo poifefs'd with Grief, not fo 
 much for the Condition of her Country, as the fataî 
 
 Ex- 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfaraehc. 223 
 
 Extremity wherein her Lover was plung'd ; and at 
 the fame time fo agitated., by the returning Hopes of 
 better Fortune that was derived to her, by the good 
 Omen of the unexpected Arrival of all thefe Do- 
 mefticks belonging to her Father, that ihe had not 
 Power to make any Reply to this Officer, and her 
 Eyes appeard all fwelfd with guihing Tears. Don 
 Le-aw perceiving it, prefently withdrew^ as did the 
 Officer likewife, out of Rcfped and Duty. She fent 
 away prefently for Orviedo, who continued at Don A" 
 lonfoSy and who was wrap'd with Joy at the Sight of 
 all thefe Country-men, old Friends and Comrades of 
 his, who could never have come more opportunely 
 than now they did, being juft at the Eve of an En- 
 terprife, to which Don Alonfo was preparing himfelf, 
 in favour of Ozjnm ; and wherein Orviedo made no 
 doubt, but that thefe New-Comers would fo heartily 
 aflift, and difcharge their Duty, with fo much Fer- 
 vour and Fidelity, as to be rather an Example to 
 others, than be in any Point deficient. Dar axa or- 
 der'd Orviedo to go prefently after Dinner, taking 
 with him the Officer who was thus newly come from 
 her Father, and defire a publick Audience of the 
 Judges ; and to acquaint Don Alonfo with it, who 
 then began to be a little better; and to tell him, thac 
 fhe believ'd him to be fo much a Friend, both to hec 
 felf and to the Prifoner, as that ihe might hope from 
 him, that he would willingly accompany her upon 
 fuch an Occafion, wherein ihe preferred him before 
 Don Levñs ; of whom, as he might guefs, ihe ihould 
 be far enough from accepting or permitting any Ser- 
 vice. But as fhe well knew the infirm State of his 
 unfettled Health and Strength, Ihe earneftly entreated 
 him not to incommode himfelf, but to fend only 
 lome of his Friends. The Judges were but juft aifem- 
 bled, when Orviedo and the Officer arrived at their 
 ufual Place of Meeting - y and they were met to 
 come to fome Refolution, upon the feveral Advices 
 
 they 
 
224 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 they had received of the Defign of Don Alonfo • 
 whofe Houfe, as they were well inform'd, was con- 
 tinually more and more filling with Cavaliers, that 
 came from the Country all round about, for 10 or 
 12 Leagues in extent; fo that the Judges were al- 
 ready almoft refolv'd, for prevention of fuch a Vio- 
 lence, ta eaufe the Prifoner to be executed that very 
 Night in Private. They were at firft furpriz'd at this 
 Requeft ; but having confider d and debated the Mat- 
 ter a little, they concluded it could only be in Fa- 
 vour of the Prifoner, and for the fake of her Friend 
 Donna Elvira, whofe Intrigue with Don Jayme had 
 been the publick Talk ; and that it was for that 
 Caufe, that Don Lewis had taken fo much Pains to 
 further this Profecution. It was an intire Novelty, 
 a Thing till then unknown, for a Woman to come in 
 Ceremony to an Audience, and to fpeak in Publick 
 to them. They were a while much divided in their 
 Opinions, whether to grant the Audience deiird, or 
 not. Many of them, chiefly the old Gray-beards, 
 were for excufing themfelves from granting it ; ne- 
 verthelefs, at lait the Curiofity to fee her, and to 
 know what the Thing might be, together with the 
 Confideration universally had for her Peribn, Qua- 
 lity and Merits, and the Elteem the Jgueen was known 
 to have for her, prevailing with them ; it was, upon 
 the Queftion, carried by a good Majority, that Au- 
 dience mould be granted her ; and Six a Clock the 
 fame Evening was appointed for it. As for Don A- 
 lonfo, he was extreamly charm'd at the Honour done 
 him by his Miftrefs ; and had he been twice as bad, 
 as he really was, he would not have fail'd, in one 
 manner or other, to have render'd her this little 
 piece of Service, wherein he thought his own Con- 
 cern and Interelt had exceeded hers. He was of the 
 lame Opinion in this Point with the general Vogue ; 
 believing that {he would not have made this Step, 
 but in confideration of her Friendihip for Donna El- 
 vira i 
 
Book Í. of Guzman d'AIfârache. 2 $ % 
 
 'vira ; and he prais'd the Artion as exceeding gene r 
 rous. Orviedo, who had no Direction as yet to open 
 the Myftery to him, let him alone in his Error, and 
 went away to give Orders for the red of the Mat- 
 ters, that all Things might be ready againft f or 6 2 
 Clock. Don Aîotjfo had no need to feek very far for the 
 Friends he had a mind to employ in this Ca r ualcade > 
 they .were for the moft part lodg'd in his own Houle -, 
 and he had no fooner told them the Delire of the 
 lovely Moor, but they all drove who fhould get ready 
 iboneft to do her Honour and Service, and have the 
 richeft and nobleft Equipage and Furniture^ as 1! 
 inaFeaftof Turaament. Don Alonfo afljited many of 
 them in it, who were not rich enouçh to doit of them- 
 felves; and it might well be faia, that for fo little 
 time as they had to prepare themfelvcs, they could 
 ícarce have appear'd more fplendid and magnificent 
 than they did. They were about 200 Gentlemen 011 
 Florfeback, attended by a numerous Retinue, bur 
 on Foot. Don Lewis, who had notice of Da*. 
 Deiign from fome of the Judges that were his parti- 
 cular Friends, offer'd his Service to Accompany tier : 
 But ihe return'd him Thanks; telling him, She would 
 by no means give him the Difpleafure of feeing her 
 follicit for the Life of a Man, whofe Death he had 
 endeavour'd with fo much Induitry. Don Lewis was 
 much mortified at this Refufal, and to find hi m fell 
 ïo often reproach'd upon this Subjed^ but what 
 touch'd him moil nearly, and of which he had noc 
 met with the leaft Intimation, was, to fee fo great a 
 number of gentlemen at his Gate, who were come 
 -to attend upon Daraxa on this Occafion, and Don À- 
 lonfo at the Head of them, inexpreilibly magnificenr 
 •Moil certainly, had there been time for it, md he- 
 could have been ftrong enough to have broke tfjjj 
 £>efign, he would have left .no Stone unturn'd, to 
 have render'd it ufelefs ; but there was now no room 
 %o form any Dbftacle. He faw himfelf furprizd, and 
 
 Q. unr 
 
22tf The Life and Anions Part 1 
 
 unable to item it ; and it was fo much the more 
 bitter and unfupportable to him, becaufe Daraxa, in 
 exclufion of him, had made choice of the very Man 
 cf whom he molí complain'd, and was the mo# a- 
 verfe and oppofite to him. She went out, taking 
 little notice of all the Vexations that were fo vifibly 
 painted in his Face, tho' he did his utmoft to conceal 
 them. She was mightily furpris'd at fo great and 
 gallant an Appearance of Men of Quality ; not be- 
 ing able to comprehend how Don Aionfo could amafs 
 together fo great a number in fo fhort a time. He 
 and all the principal of the Troop were alighted to 
 compliment her, and to afEft her to mount her Horfe, 
 tho' he knew well enough me ir/ood in no need of 
 any fuch Help. She receiv'd him, and the reft of 
 the Gentlemen, with a moil charming Gracefulneis ; 
 and made an ÉfForr to expreís fome Áir of Joy, a^ 
 flowing from the Pleafure that fhe, indeed, took in 
 their kind" and reipe&ful Appearance ; but iïill there 
 was an Impreflion of deep Grief, and a fettled Sor- 
 row, vifible in her' Face, that was the Obfervation 
 and Surpriie of all the Company. She exprefs'd to 
 Don Jlonfo, the lively Sence me had of his extream 
 Civilities ; acknowledging, fhe was moil fenfibly o- 
 blig'd by them, and alluring him they ihould never 
 be forgot. She perceiv'd him to be ftill fo pale and fo- 
 weak, that fhe very much pity'd him ; and told him, 
 That tho* fhe had a great deal of Joy in feeing him, 
 yet ihe could have wifh'd moil heartily, in Friend- 
 fhip to him, that he had fpar'd hlmfelf lo much Pains 
 and Danger. Don Alonfo forgot nothing that a Man 
 m Love, and full of lively Sence and noble Thoughts, 
 could moil obligingly reply, and even moil paflio- 
 nately upon fuch an Occafion ; telling her, he was 
 quite unable to exprefs, how very fenfible he was of 
 the Honour ihe had done him, in being willing to 
 accept of hímíelf and his Friends to accompany her 
 m the Aciion ihe was going upon ; which was, in- 
 deed, 
 
Èook I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. $27 
 
 deed, an Act of a real Heroine. The Compliments 
 being over, Ihe mounted her Horfe with her ufual 
 Grace, and the Cavalcade began to defile by the 
 Moors, Who were 40 in Number, all well equipp d, 
 and excellently rriounted, having Orviedo and the 
 New-come Officer at their Head. After them came 
 Daraxa in the middle, between Don AlovÇo and 
 Don Diego de Caflro, who had alio been one of her 
 Lovers, and was the intimate Friend of the Firft. 
 All the Nobility follow'd next in very good Order, 
 and fix in each Rank. Tho' this Delign had been 
 fix'd upon with precipitation enough, and had been 
 carried on very filently, yet the Rumour of it had 
 fpread thro' the City, and nad gather'd the People in 
 Crowds, both to lee the beautious Moor pafs along 
 with fo illurtrious and numerous a Body, and like- 
 wife to know what mould be her Bufinels at the Pa- 
 lace ; fo that the Streets were fo throng'd, there 
 was lcarce any palling, the People being untir'd with 
 beholding, praifing and admiring her. She was 
 drefs'd in a molt extraordinary becoming manner ; 
 having that Day put on a Moorif» Attire ; but fo rich, 
 and lo magnificent, as hardly could be equall'd. 
 Her Father had lent it her fome little time before, 
 and ihe had deferr'd wearing it till the Return of the 
 Court ; but this Occafion was too important to be 
 in that, or any thing, negle&ed. But what moll 
 charm'd and iurpriz'd, was her graceful fitting, ri- 
 ding and managing her Horfe ; a thing rare in Spain 
 for a Woman. At laft the Cavalcade arriv'd at the 
 Square before the Palace, where all this Cavalry 
 form'd it felf into one great Squadron round about 
 her, as a Guard of Honour, till the Judges iliould 
 fend to receive her ; which was done by two of the 
 principal Cryers, or Uihcrs, without the Palace 
 Gate, and they conducted her to the Door of the 
 firil Hall, where ihe was receiv'd by two of the 
 Judges, who did her all the Honours that could have 
 
 Q. 2 beea 
 
228 The Life and Anions Part Í 
 
 been done to a Princefs, and ihe was led after the 
 fame manner to her Audience. All thofe Officers, 
 and other young Nobles, who had alighted from 
 their Horfes as ihe difmounted from hers, follow'd 
 lier, and enter'd alfo into the Hall, to the great Afto- 
 nifhment of the Judges, who underftood 'not the 
 meaning ont, and many of them grew very uneafy 
 at it. They had fet her a great Arm'd-Chair with a 
 Cuihion, and fpread a Carpet of Tapeftry for a 
 Foot-cloth. But the whole Aifembly was iurpriz'd 
 and charm' d at the Free and Majeftick Air where- 
 with me enter'd the Hall, and feated her felf in her 
 Chair. Being feated, after fome Moments of Silence, 
 ihe firft beheld all the Judges with great Earneftnefs 
 and fix'd Attention -, and then with a loud, clear, di- 
 itinct Voice, that was naturally harmonious, ihe thus 
 Harangud them: 
 
 <c 
 
 <c 
 
 ec 
 
 CI 
 
 It is ib little Cuftomary, my Lords, to fee a 
 
 Perfon of my Sex appear before fuch an Affembly 
 
 as yours, that you will not doubt, but it muft be 
 
 fome very important Caufe that brings me hither. 
 
 I know the Rules prefcrib'd us by Decency and 
 
 Modefty, and I fhould not deviate or vary from 
 
 them,if Time and Place had permitted me to make 
 
 ufe of the ufual and ordinary Means ; but there are 
 
 Occafions and Sea ions, wherein the belt and jufteft 
 
 Rule is that of obferving none at all. I am come 
 
 hither, my Lords, to implore your Juftice, againit 
 
 your Juftice it felf, and to put your Equity upon 
 
 correcting a Sentence of Death, that you have 
 
 pafs'd upon a Man who hath committed no other 
 
 Crime but that of defending his Life againit Af- 
 
 fafîîns, who attempted to ravifh it from him. J 
 
 fpeak not this, my Lords, from the Reports oí 
 
 others : I acquaint you with what my Eyes faw, 
 
 and what was alfo, and equally, icen, by the Eyes 
 
 of the Daughter of Don Lewis, his- mortal Enemy. 
 
 "This 
 
 
iC 
 
 Book L of Guzman d'Alfarache. 2 2 p 
 
 This cannot be call'd puniíhing Crimes, but .au- 
 thorizing them, and making the Innocent fuffer 
 " the Pains of the G.uilty. Your Sentence condemns 
 the Lives of all the Hone ft, and gives them up for 
 a Prey to Murderers ; and there is not one Judge 
 of all thofe that pronoune'd it, who cannot find 
 himfelf equally difpos'd and inclin d to the very 
 fame Fault; fince it is certain, that there is not 
 one among them, who feeing himfelf attack'd, 
 and in danger to lofe his Life, would not ufe his 
 utmoft Efforts to prevent his Enemy, and even to 
 kill him, if he could not other vife preferve himfelf. 
 But what need can there be of Co many Arguments 
 for the Proof of a Law fo wholly natural, and of 
 which you are already better perfwaded than I 
 am ? The Queftion is, concerning the Matter of 
 Fa<5t, whether it be as I have ftated it ? It is lb 
 eaiy to prove it that I much doubt, whether any 
 Shadow of an Evidence can be brought in Contra- 
 diction to it. We were not atone, my Lords^ 
 Donna, Ehira and ¡; we had alfo with us two of 
 our Women, who may likewife be cxamin'd, and 
 who are ready to declare the Truth as well as we. 
 What Wrong, my Lords, was done by two Gentle- 
 men, to two infamous Peafants, in being with us, 
 that they fhould come in fight of Don Leiviss 
 Houfe, and attempt to brain them with Clubs that 
 they were arm'd withal? Well, but they fay now, 
 'twas a miftake of the Bailiff's Son. Does that mi- 
 ftake make this Aífaflination leis Violent, and leis 
 Cruel and Outrageous, to be us'd towards People 
 of Quality? But the fécond Attack, in which this 
 furious Son of the Bailiff was the Head, that can- 
 not poffibly pafs for a Miftake, but is a downright 
 formal Aífaííination,and inexcuíably fo, fince they 
 came fuperior in Number, and arm'd with huge 
 drawn Swords, and fell upon two. Men that had 
 only Staves. Where then, my Lords^ is the Crime 
 
 <( 
 
230 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 tc of the Perfons attack'd, unlefs it be in not letting 
 fc themiclves be kill'd and aflaflinated by thefe new 
 *J Villains, cr by the whole Rabble of the Town, 
 tc who took up Arms againft two Gentlemen that 
 cc had not done them the leaft Wrong, nor fpoke 
 (C one Word to them. I will, my Lords, fpare you 
 <e the Trouble of enlarging my Difcourfe, which 
 <c how juft foever, and tho' it contain nothing but 
 ff what is True, Clear, and Evident, yet cannot, 
 cc from the Nature of it, but be Tedious and Trouble- 
 (e fome to you. I will alfo fpare fome, not fo much 
 cc as naming them, whofe Paiîîons have made a lit- 
 ff tie too much Noife upon this Occafion; but I 
 Cf ought not to leave you in the Dark, as to what 
 <e obliges me to Intereft my felf fo much in the Life 
 <c of him for whom I intercede. He is a near Kinf- 
 <c man to King Mahomet, defcended from the Kings 
 <c of Granada ; 'tis the Brave Ozmin, my Lords, and 
 cc no Don J ay rye. His real Name, Oz>min y is well 
 * c known among your Troops, and fufficiently Illu- 
 ff ftrious after fo many Actions worthy of Glory. 
 <c This is the Man that kill'd the two Bulls on the Day 
 ff of the Courfes, and fav'd the Life of the generous 
 <c Don Alonfo. But to fay yet fomething more, at 
 <c leaft, with regard to me, he is my Husband, if I 
 <c may be permitted to give that Name to a Man 
 (C with whom I am engaged by Promife and in Ho- 
 (c nour, and that by the mutual Commands of our 
 cc Parents. It is now, my Lords, on your Parts to 
 <c confider what you have to do, witn regard toa 
 " .Perfon of his Worth and Dignity, whole Life is 
 u not of fo little Moment, as to be cheaply thrown 
 <c away, to be raihly condemn'd, and to be put to 
 fC Death in the fame flight Manner,as might be done 
 f c to a Man of no fort of Confequence, 
 
 She had no fconer made an end of Speaking, but 
 ùere was a No\fe throughout the Hall, that very 
 
 much 
 
Book I. of Guzman cf Alfarache. 2 3 1 
 
 much ftartled and frighted the Judges ; every body 
 crying out,That the Prifoner ought to be difcharg'd, 
 and that his Ufage had been highly unjuft. The 
 Judges replied, in a few Words, to the beautiful 
 Moorijh Lady, That 'twas very poffible they might 
 have been misinform' d in this Affair, and that it was 
 no Fault of theirs that they were kept ignorant of the 
 Rank and Quality of this Gentleman; that they would 
 review the whole Matter, and would give her their 
 Anfwer that very Tame Day. But the whole Affem- 
 bly cri'd out again, That the Priibner was Innocent, 
 and ought to be fet at Liberty, threatening otherwife 
 to break open the Prifon-Doors, and take him thence 
 by Force. To which the Judges calmly repli'd, That 
 after Judgment, the Matter depended no more upon 
 them. That to make Ufe of Force and Violence 
 to free the Priibner, would be an Affront to the Ma- 
 jefty of their Princes, and an Injury to Juftice, which 
 they were entrufted with, and oblig'd to maintain. 
 That all they could do on their parts, was to fufpend 
 Execution till their Majefties were pleas'd to give their 
 Orders in it. Daraxa then defird Permiíiíon to vifit 
 the Priibner; and it was granted her, provided that 
 no more than four Perfons mould enter the Priibn 
 with her, and that íhe would engage thar no Dilbr- 
 der mould happen there, nor no Violence be us'd; 
 all which íhe promis'd. And thus every body was 
 quiet and eafy, and the People, who but three Days 
 before had demanded the Death of this Man, were 
 ready to make publick Demonftrations of their Joy 
 becaufe his Life was fpar'd. The Cavalcade march'd 
 in the fame Order to the Prifon. Daraxa named 
 Don Alonfo, Don Diego de Caflro, and Orviedo y with 
 the Moorijh Officer, to go in with her. As this great 
 number of Cavaliers, and fuch a vaft throng of Peo- 
 ple, made a mighty Noiíe and Buffle in the Streets, 
 Ozmin heard it, and was furpriz'd at it, not being 
 able to guefs what ihould be the Matter. Dut he was 
 
 Q 4 much 
 
2 $2 The Ufe and Aftions Part I. 
 
 much more agreeably fupriz'd when he faw his love- 
 ly Daraxa entering his Chamber with Don Alovfo. 
 This Surprife,neverthelefs, how great and how agree- 
 able fofcvef. quickly gave Place to the Emotions of 
 Joy that tdzá him ; and above all, When he knew 
 whit had brought them to him, and What had been 
 jüft done for him by his dearly belov'd Sp'oufe or Mi- 
 ¿tfefs. She Was fo pleas'd and eafy in her Mind, and 
 Her tïeart was in fuch a Rapture at the fight of hint, 
 that ihe could not exp'refs her Sentiment but by her 
 Eyes I and fhe Was a corífideráble time without ha- 
 ving Power to fpeak to him. Don Alonfo embraced 
 Ozmirt with great Tranfports of Tenderneis j but íq 
 the taidft of them, he intermingl'd kind Reproaches 
 for his want of an intire Confidence in him, threat- 
 "híñg him to revenge it, by continuing to be in Lovç 
 With the charming Daraxa for the whole reminder 
 of his Life. This drew obliging Cáreífef*fm. him 
 fronl both of them; and Daraxa aifur'd him, That, 
 ftext after Qz.-m'm 3 he ihould always poifefs a chief 
 Part in her Efteem : While Oz,min declar'd, That he 
 could, never ceafe to Love, Ifonour, Value, and Em- 
 bracé, with his whole Heart, a Gentleman to whoiç 
 ExceÉ of Noblenefs he had fo many and fo great 
 Obligations/ Don Alonfo made obliging Returns to 
 both, áíTuring them of his immutable Friendship, ana 
 his utmoii" Services upon all Occafions. He prefent- 
 ed Don Diego de Gattro to O&min, as a Cavalier of á 
 diftinguifh'd Birth and Merit, and his particular 
 Friend : But, at laft, parting from thefe mutual, ten- 
 der, and hearty Endeavours, to the Confideration 
 of their prefen'f Cafe, a'nd what moft immediately 
 prefs'chr which was to fee what could be done to ter- 
 minate this grand A!ifair with the greateft Speed. It 
 was refolvd to difpatch away Orviedo. that very- 
 Night for Granada y with Letters both to bzmns and 
 Dafaxa's Friends and Relations, to intercede inftantly 
 pnd ftrenuoufly with their CathoHck Majefties 3 zo obtain 
 
 thçif 
 
 
Book I. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 235 
 
 their Pardon for Ozmin: For the equally amorous an4 
 beautiful Daraxa, how carneftly ibever both the Queen 
 and her Father had prefs'd herein their Letters,t° ha- 
 llen her Journey to Granada 3 ihw was not able to think 
 of it without the Company of her belovd Ozmin. 
 Çrviedo ínadc fueh Difpatc! 1, that he came back the 
 third Day with Ozmin s Pardon; and an Order from 
 their Majefties to the Magiftrates of the City, to do 
 him all the Honours due to his Birth and Merit. 
 And thus he left that Prifon with as much Glory and 
 Joy, as he was thruil into it with Shame and Sorrow. 
 Daraxa went her felf to fetch him out of Prifon with 
 a like Equipage, Train and Attendants, but far more 
 Numerous, Rich, Gay and Magnificent, as having 
 had more time to prepare for't.EvenDon^/r/go him- 
 felf would needs' make one at it, and made himfelf 
 remarkable by his Magnificence, and by his earneft 
 Compliments 'of Joy to Daraxa for the good Succefs 
 of this Affair. 'lis true, indeed, that in fpite of all 
 his Father's Rage, and notwithstanding. his Concern 
 in refpecT: of his Sifter, yet he always comported 
 himfelf with a great deal of Difcrction and Modera- 
 tion, and exprefs'd himfelf upon fcveral Occaiions, 
 that he difapprov'd the Condud of his Father, and 
 would have folicited againft him, had he dar'd to do 
 it. And, indeed, he acquitted himfelf towards Oz~ 
 win, when he faw him, in a very handfome, frank 
 and obliging Manner, without entring upon what 
 concern'd his Father, neither to excufe nor condemn 
 him. As for the fierce Don Lewis's Refentment,it aba- 
 ted but little for all the Difcoveries,occafion d bv this 
 Affair, of the Birth of Ozmin, and the Engagements 
 between him and Daraxa, and that he nad never 
 made any Pretentions to his Daughter. He continu'd 
 of Opinion, that the Honour of his Family muft 
 have fuffer'd by the Noife and Talk that had been 
 made ; and that Ozmin, tho' otherwife not much to 
 blame, yet was guilty enough, as to hir¿ in being 
 
 the 
 
5 34 The Ufe and Anions Part I. 
 
 the Object of his Daughter's Extravagancies ; but 
 what he could never Pardon him, and was a more 
 feniible Wound to him than all the reft, was, to have 
 taken him for a Tool ; he, who thought himfelf the 
 Ieaft capable of being impos'd upon in thofe fort of 
 Intrigues ; and he was mortally afraid of being ralli'd 
 at Court upon this Account, and turn d into Ridi- 
 cule. So that not only he would not go and pay 
 his Refpects and Compliments to Oz,m'm, as did all 
 the reft of the young Cavaliers, and grave Lords, 
 in and about Scvil y but he even excus'd himfelf from 
 accompanying Daraxa to Granada, under pretence of 
 a feign'd Indifpofition, and therefore appcar'd no 
 snore in Sevil till after Ihe was gone. Poor Donna 
 Elvira was very unfortunate indeed, for ihe had all 
 the ill Humours of her Father to contend with, who 
 laid the whole Blame upon her ; but ihe hfrA other 
 and more raging Ills to contend with, and fuffcr by, 
 as thofe of Jealoufy, and mortal Regret of her Infa- 
 tuation and Blindneís, and to have been made a Tool 
 and a Property of by two Perfons fo very dear to her; 
 tho' in truth ihe had more caufe to complain of her 
 felf than them. She did not long furvive thofe Trou- 
 bles ; but to the laft Moment of her Life me could 
 ■never forget, nor ceafe to love, her dear Don J ay me, 
 as ihe intimated to him, by a Ring ihe fent him to 
 Granada, ibme few Days before fne died. All the ill 
 Humours of Don Lewis, and Jealouiy of his Daugh- 
 ter, did not hinder the making of extraordinary Re- 
 joy rings at Sevil for the Liberty of Oz,min, and chief- 
 ly at Don Alonfos, where he continu a to lodge, and 
 where he would needs ftay one Day longer, as well 
 not to refufe his Friend's Requeft of it, as alfo to 
 have fo much Time to return his Thanks to ail thofe 
 honeft Gentlemen of the late Cavalcade, of whom 
 there was not one to whom he did not make ibme 
 Prefent before he went away • having employ'd in 
 thofe Gratifications, as far as "to 20000 Franks. Many 
 
 of 
 
Book I. of Guzman d' Alfarachc. 235 
 
 of the Gentlemen would needs accompany him to 
 Granada, to aflift at his Nuptials • and, among others, 
 Don Alonfo and Don Diego de Cafíro : They were ce- 
 lebrated in fpite of the Noife and Tumults of War, 
 (not very confiftent with Feafting and Rejoycing) 
 with fo great Splendor and Magnificence, that fcarce 
 has there been any thing of that kind more Noble 
 and Splendid. Their Catbolick Majefiies honoured 
 them with their Prefence almoft continually. There 
 was Tilts and Turnaments, and Bull-Feafts, wherein 
 as well Moors as Chriftiant, of the one and the other 
 Court, made their Valour and Addrefs appear. And 
 in fine, having receiv'd Baptifm, they and their Pa- 
 rents, Relations and Families, they are fince become 
 one of the moil Populous, Flouriihing and Illuftrious 
 Houfes. in the whole Spamjii Monarchy. 
 
 This Story was no fooner ended, but we iaw the 
 Steeples of Caballa. The Time nor Way had been te- 
 dious to any body; every one after his manner re-, 
 turn'd Thanks to the honeft Gentleman that had be-» 
 i^ovvd this Entertainment upon us ; and there was not 
 one of us, who did not fignify to him the particular 
 Satisfaction he had receiv'd by fo delightful a Rela* 
 tion. The good Fathers, and the other Gentlemen, 
 reafon'd a little more upon all thçfe different Events, 
 like Men that underftood themfelves well, and knew 
 the World. As for the Muleteer, who knew but little 
 of thofe Matters, and did not trouble himfelf much 
 about them, he was for another fort of reafoning 
 with me. He had, as I faid, kept a profound Silence 
 ever fince our laft Adventures, but when he faw we 
 were at the Gates of Caballa, and were about to part, 
 his Tongue began to get loofe, to ask me for íbmaí 
 Money for my Journey, an4 for two fair Meals we 
 had made at the laft Inn, which he computed at 
 three Crowns. This was quite another fort of Story 
 fpr m¿ He woulcj have been, a raje Fellow, if he 
 
 çoulcj 
 
%%6 The Life and ARiom Part I. 
 
 could have mack me pay them, for Ï was far enough" 
 from being Mafter of fo much Money. We were juft 
 ready to fall to Fifty-Cuffs about it, and I had alrea- 
 dy provided my felf with two Flints to make up for 
 the Weaknefs of my Arms : But thefe Gentlemen 
 and good Fathers, who piti' d me, interpoiing their 
 Authority, made him hearken to Reafon ; and as it 
 was not juft I mould be compell'd to pay for my 
 Riding, which he had freely profer'd of his own ac- 
 cord, and without my defiring ; fo they only con- 
 démn'd me to reimburle him the Expence of my- Shot 
 for the Mule's Provender, and to give him fomething 
 more for the keeping of his Mule that Night, and 
 this almoft quite drein'd my poor Purfe, t^ere now 
 remaining fcarce enough to make one good Meal, 
 and have one good Night's Lodging, which I went 
 to feek as far as I could from this Muleteer, who un-- 
 derftood Inns fo providently well, and had to do with 
 (b good Gooks, and fuch honeft People. 
 
 , i imwija— — — — — p— m**m—m —a— $m 
 
 t B E 
 
Book IL 237 
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE and ACTIONS 
 
 Of the Famous 
 
 SPANISH ROGUE 
 Guzman d Alfarache. 
 
 Part I. Book II. 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Guzman, /';/ hk way from Cazalla toMadnd,fpeal{£ 
 of the bad State and Condition of a mi for able Man $ 
 and thence talcs Occafion to Difconrfe gravely oh 
 the Confeqiiences of Want, Shame, Caftles in the 
 Air, and the li"ke : And at laft, tells how he 
 came to ferve an Innkeeper, with the wickçd Dif- 
 portions of that fort of People, 
 
 /■ a ^ H O U fee'ft me, Reader, at length at Ca- 
 
 z,a!la } Twelve Leagues from Sevil, upon a 
 
 Monday Morning, with my Purfe penni- 
 
 fli lefs, and Condition remedilefs, after having 
 
 fceen accus'd for a Thief, as a fort of Prophecy of 
 
 what i íhould be one Day. The Firft Day I fee 
 
 ibrtb 
 
238 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 forth, I fufFer'd enough ; the Second yet more, be- 
 caufe my Troubles encreas'd, and one Mifchief came 
 upon the Neck of another. I had not long fince 
 Money in my Pocket, and Meat, to put in my Belly • 
 but now 'tis quite another Cafe, for now I have 
 neither Mwsey nor Meat. Any thing may be born, 
 when a Body has Bread to Eat ; but when one has 
 none, every Thing is intolerable. 'Tis gooo! to hate 
 ^ à Father, 'tis good to have a Mother, but above all 
 "'tis good to have a good Belly-full. The Third Day 
 of my Expedition I was in a manner quite dead, for 
 I could think my felf like nothing more than a lean 
 half-ftarv'd Dog, at whom other Dogs barking, as 
 is ufual, he turns about and gnaihes his Teeth, but 
 dares Bite none of them. So I, tho' I faw my felf 
 furrourided with Misfortunes, durft not Quarrel 
 with any of them, tho' I fuffer'd fo much by them, 
 fo low was I brought. I was then truly fenfible 
 of the Value of the leaft Piece of Money, for he 
 that never wants, never knows how to prize his 
 Happinefs. This, indeed, was the firft time I had 
 look'd the Heretick Neceffity in the Face. I knew 
 her before by her Character, but now had leifure 
 to confider her better by her Effects. How many 
 infamous Things does that frightful Figure expofe us 
 to ? What terrible Apprehenfions ¿oes flie occafion 
 US ? What bafe and unlawful Actions make us at- 
 tempt,and fometimes even fuch as are impracticable ? 
 On the other hand, I fufficiendy experience, that 
 Nature was to be contented with little; yet, tho* 
 ihe difpences never ib much, how few are fatisfy'd 
 with their Lot ? Every Body is poor, becaufe every 
 Body complains that they have not what they de- 
 fire. O unhappy Epicure ! who confum'ft thy Wealth 
 fo laviíhly ! What a Fool art thou to complain 
 that thou fpend'ft fo many Thoufand Ducats, when 
 thou at the fame time own'ft that thou eat'ft ? 
 Complain rather, that thou hail had fo many Ducatt 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 239 
 
 to fpend, and employ 'd them fo ill, and not that thou 
 haft eat them; for if thou eat'ft, what Reafon haft 
 thou to complain ? Art thou more a Man than 
 I, who am fat and lufty ? And yet I feed upon nothing 
 but rotten Lentils, dry Fitches, hard Grey Peas, 
 and Moufe-eaten Bisket. Wilt thou, or can'ft thou, 
 give me a Reafon for all this ? What I know of the 
 Matter is, that if thou had'ft been once reduc'd to 
 Keceflîty, as I have been, thou would'ft then know, 
 that Hunger is the beft Sauce. For my part, I 
 wiih no Man ill, and only lament my own Misfor- 
 tunes. Neceflity is not only the belt Sauce to all 
 Meats, but likewife the beft Miftrefs to all Trades. 
 She is full of Invention, and makes Magpies, Jack- 
 daws, Thruihes, and Parrots to fpeak. It was She 
 alfo that made me fenfible, that bad Fortune makes 
 Men wife ; for She feem'd to reprefent to me, as it 
 were in a Mirrour, what was Paît, Prefent, and to 
 Come. I had hitherto been a Coxcomb, and the 
 Condition of a Widow's Son well became me, that 
 is, to be Well-fed and Ill-bred. There was a great 
 deal to be amended in me, and the firft Step towards 
 it was the Omelet I met with, which made me fenfi- 
 ble of fome Folk's Dealings. I faw my felf imme- 
 diately after, young and unexperienc'd as I was, em- 
 bark'd in the main Ocean, without knowing where 
 to land. The worft was, that tho' I found I was 
 thus embarrafs'd, I had no Body to ask Councel of, 
 therefore was fain to reafon with my felf. Poor Rea- 
 foning, alas ! which help'd but little towards bringing 
 me out of my Troubles. I had refolv'd to go no 
 farther, becaufe I wanted wherewith, but then I 
 wanted likewife wherewithal to return : Moreover, 
 I thought it a Shame to go any more to Sevil, which- 
 I had left with fo great Indignation. O Shame, thou 
 fatal Poifon of human Life ! How many Inconve- 
 nientes have I known occafion'd by thee ? How 
 many Maids have ceas'd to be fo, through a Shame 
 
 of 
 
2ùfi The Life and Anions fart Î. 
 
 of refufing any thing, to fuch as have been fo kind as 
 to make them Prefents ? How many Mothers have 
 prov'd Parricides. on the fame Account? How many 
 Cullies and Coxcombs have been drawn into Bonds 
 and Suretiihips for others, and afterwards paid the 
 Debt, to the Prejudice of their Wives and Children, 
 meerly becaufe they were aiham'd to deny thofe that. 
 ask'd them ? How much Money has been lent and 
 borrowed on the fcore of Friendfliip, and yet both 
 Money and Friend have been loft at lair ? Nay, he 
 that lent fhall "be oftentimes found to Want 3 and 
 he that borrowed never fupply his Neceflîties ,• the 
 Lender being aiham'd to ask, and the Borrower too 
 much a Rogue to offer. The Lender has not the 
 Courage to demand his own, becaufe he is reduced. 
 ro a mean Condition ; and'the Borrower is fo much 
 exalted above his former Station, that he thinks it 
 below him to look down even upon one that has 
 oblig'd him. I would have thee to know, if thou 
 doft not know it already, that Shame is like the 
 Web in a Weaver's Loom, where, if one Thread 
 be broken, it all unravels, and muft be begun again. 
 In all Things that may do thee Harm, or turn to 
 thy Difadvantage, have nothing to do with Shame, 
 but let the Threads break as often as they will. If 
 there be any Inconvenience to undergo, by doing 
 any thing that is ask'd of thee, it were better to 
 fall on him that requires it of thee, than on thee 
 that ow'ft him nothing, and who art not oblig'd to 
 take another's Crimes upon thee, to be recompenc'd 
 with Ingratitude and Repentance. Remember, that 
 Shame for refufing, is the Shame of Sots.* Shame is 
 a Virtue in regard to thy felf, and a great Vice in 
 regard to other People. Thou ought'it to have it 
 for thy felf in this Refpecl, that thou do no ihame- 
 ful or diftioneft Á6T:, nay, tho' no Body iaw thee, 
 nor knew of it ; but as for others, what haft thou 
 to do with them ? Free thy felf from Shame,at leaft 
 
 in 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 241 
 
 in Matters of the greateft Confequence, and do nor 
 keep it like a Dog chain'd behind the Door of thy 
 Ignorance. Cut or flip the Collar, and let it get a- 
 way from thee as fait as it pleafes. Do thou only 
 be aiham'd, as I faid before, of what is Shame- 
 worthy. 'Twas this fooliih Shame made me ípoil fo 
 much Paper in relating the Follies of my Life, which 
 I might neverthelefs have comprehended in much 
 leis Compafs ; but I muft now ride Port to come at 
 Things of greater Confequence, and fo pray lend 
 me your Attention. 
 
 I was mighty unwilling, as ÎVe already told you, 
 to return Home, and that without my Cloak, which 
 People would be apt to think I had either pawn'd or 
 fold for Meat or Drink in fome Inn. I was not leis 
 concern'd that I mult itop, when I was in fo fair a 
 Way. A Point of Honour then feiz'd me, and I 
 faid to my felf, What a Difgrace will it be for me to 
 return tamely Home after the Third Day, when I 
 have iet out withfo much Refolution. This Point of 
 Honour is another foolifh Thing ; 'tis the Father of 
 that iilly Daughter I have juft been fpeaking of: 
 Since it falls under my Hands, I mail fay fomething 
 of it too, and truly there's a great deal to be faid. 
 'Tis that which meddles with every Thing, and 
 I have a mind to treat it as it deferves. But hold, a 
 little Patience I befeech you, and do not run fo much 
 a-head. You may find another Opportunity for this, 
 when you may give its Character at large, that Peo- 
 ple hereafter may not be deceiv'd by it. 
 
 I made it then a Point of Honour to proceed on 
 my Expedition; and I faid to my felf, I ought to put 
 Confidence in God, who never forfakes any Body. 
 With this Pious Reflexion I fet forward, and took the 
 direct: Road to Madrid, the ordinary Relidence of 
 our Kings, where was then a mining Court, and, a- 
 bove all, a young King newly married. All this 
 . mult needs excite che Curiolity 'of fuch a young Fei- 
 
 R low 
 
242 The Life and Afîions Part L 
 
 low as I was. I fancied every Body muí! be in love 
 with, and ítrive for me, fince I was fo well made, 
 and had fo good an Air. How many Inftances could 
 I give of the Simplicity of young Men, were it 
 worth my while. There is a great deal of difference 
 between what we may imagine it to be, and what it 
 is in reality. 5 Tis eaiy to form to our felves bright 
 Idea's, but difficult to meet with any thing like 
 them. I am confidering what a Man is like, that 
 has thefe fine Fancies in his Head. Why, he's like a 
 young Child, who, riding a Cock-horfe on a Stick, 
 thinks himfelf the finelieft mounted in the World. 
 And then, to bring them to pafs, is like an old Bald- 
 pa ted, ' Palíy-fiíted, Lame-legg'd Fellow, who lean- 
 ing on two Crutches, attempts the Scaling a high 
 Wall that is manfully defended. I have faid a great 
 aeal, but yet I know what I've faid to be true. AtNight 
 when all is dark, and our Heads are upon our Pil- 
 lows, a great many Things come into them, which, 
 like Fogs, vanifh as foon as the Sun begins to appear. 
 Thus, tho'I had had fuch Fancies during my Sleep, as 
 foon as I were well awake they left me, and I had 
 nothing before my Eyes but a long and tedious Jour- 
 ney, which, for a Youth as I was, and almoit ftarv'd 
 with Plunger, was not a fmall Matter to undertake, 
 or at lcaft to perform. 
 
 I am, neverthelefs, once more fet out with a fhort 
 Cane in my Hand inftead of a Walking-Staff, for, 
 rue-thought, all the while I had this lad, I had my 
 Cloak on my Back. In Winter, a Cloak would be 
 more welcome; but in Spring, a tough Oaken- 
 Piant is as good. My Cloak, 'tis true, covers me, 
 and does me more Honour; but my Plant fatigues me 
 leis, and bears me up in walking. I muft do my 
 belt to comfort my felf whatever happens. Two 
 Gentlemen chane'd to pafs by, who, by their Looks, 
 feem'd to be confiderable Merchants. They were 
 mounted on two Males, which Went the Grand-' 
 
 Trot. 
 
Book II. of Guzman cT Alfarache. 243 
 
 Trot. Good, faid I to my felf, there are two Gen- 
 tlemen that I hope will defray my Charges. I call'd 
 up my fmall Courage, and had a great mind to follow 
 them ; but tho' they went only the ordinary Pace, 
 they had like to out-itrip one that had not been us'd 
 to Travel, and not eaten well in three Days. I 
 rauft, however, beftir my Stumps, out of the Hopes 
 of a good Dinner. They were filent People, and 
 faid little or nothing, which did not much pleafe me. 
 I took it for a Sign of Avarice, for there are fome 
 Folks who are Covetous, even of Words, when they 
 think they can by fpeaking do any Body a Kindncfs. 
 An agreeable Conversation nourifnes the Soul, keeps 
 up the Spirits of wearied Travellers, extinguidles 
 Grief, expels Care, fhortens your Journey, lengthens 
 Life, and, by a particular Excellence, places thofe on 
 Horfeback, who were before on Foot. I made my 
 Party, however, fo good, that notwithstanding their 
 obftinate Silence, we arriv'd together at the Inn, 
 about three. Leagues from Camilla, where we were to 
 dine. I was more dead than living, yet, tir'd as 
 I was, neglected not to do my Duty, for I imme- 
 diately difpos'd my felf to hold the Gentlemens Stir- 
 rups while they alighted, and to lead their Mules to 
 the Stable ; offering befides, if they pleas'd, to carry 
 their Portmantues to their Chambers ; but whether 
 my over-readinefs ren 'er'd me fufpecled to them, or 
 that they were naturally fufpicious, I no fooner laid 
 my Hands upon their Cloak-Bags, but one of them 
 calls out to me, in an angry Tone, to let them alone, 
 I obey'd, tho' with Regret, fearing that fahe Step 
 might occafion me the Lofs of my Dinner, and cal- 
 ling to mind, that Charity and Brutality never met to- 
 gether. However, I was refolv'd hot to defpair, and 
 confequently follow'd them very humbly with my 
 Hat in my Hand. They had brought their Dinner 
 along with them, as the Cuftom of Spain is, that Is 
 to fay, a good Gigot ■ of Mutton, a good Ham of 
 
 K 7. Ba 
 
244 fbe Life an J Aftiom Part I. 
 
 Bacon, with Bread, Wine, and whatever elfe was 
 JîeceiTary. I had a great mind to wait on them at 
 Table, and, the better to procure my felf that Liber- 
 ty, offer'd to fill them out a Glafs of Wine, if they 
 pleas'd, and for that End was going to waíh the Glais, 
 when he that had not yet fpoken catting an ill-na- 
 tur'd Look at me, by which Iguefs'd he was not much 
 better humourd than his Companion, cried, No, No, 
 let it alone, we have no manner of occafion for your 
 Service. O Traytors, quoth I to my felf, Enemies 
 to God and Man ! 1 find 'tis to little or no purpofe for 
 me to follow you. I had a mind, neverthelefs, to 
 fee them eat, not knowing, but when their Bellies 
 were full, they might be better humour'd, and give 
 me a Bone or fomething to pick, for at that time 
 nothing would have come amifs to me. They fed as 
 they travel I'd, without fpeaking a Word, and with- 
 out fo much as caiting the leaft Look on me. I how- 
 ever, on my part, devour'd them with my Eyes, but 
 that would not fill my Belly. But when I faw them, 
 to my great Difappointment, put up what they had 
 left in their Wallet, even to the fmalieiï bit of Bread, 
 I was ready to run diftracled, and, I believe, fhould 
 have died on the Spot with meer Hunger, had I not 
 ícQn a good Fryar, of the Order of St. Francis, juft 
 then enter- the Room, who, tho' I could not expe& 
 much from him, was yet going to eat what he had, 
 and, with whom, I thought I might in Charity 
 partake. This Fryar came on Foot, and feem'd 
 much ttr'd, when pulling out what Provifion he had, 
 he laid it on the Table. It conlifted of a good Loaf 
 of Bread, and a tolerable Piece of Salt-Beef, which 
 made me to jump. I had my Eyes on him all the 
 while, when looking at me by chance, and perceiving 
 what I wanted, (for my Looks fpoke) he took his 
 loaf, and giving me half of it, laid aloud, If I had but 
 this in the World, and knew not* where to get any 
 mere, I would give thee thy Share of it, iince I be- 
 lieve 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 24c 
 
 Heve thou haft occalion for it: Eat, young Man, what 
 thou wilt, and there's a good Piece of Beef for thee 
 into the Bargain. O good God, laid I to my felf^whát 
 a Providence is this ! When thole that could, would 
 not aiîîft me in this Extremity, a poor Begging-Fryar 
 has fpar'd me what is neceííary out of his own Belly. 
 'Tis commonly feen, that thole who have the great- 
 eft Plenty, are the moft uncharitable and infenfiblc to 
 fuch as want ¿ whereas thofc that are the lea ft in a 
 Capacity, are the moft ready to do Ads of Charity. 
 Thefe two Merchant-like Gentlemen, whom 1 had 
 follow'd on Foot above two Leagues, in Hopes they 
 would take Pity on me, and to whom I had offer'd 
 my Service in the civileft manner imaginable, 
 would neverthelefs not hearken to my Neceffities, 
 tho' my Looks fufficiently proclaim'd them, whereas 
 this poor Fryar comprehended them at firft Sight, 
 and relieved me with Pleafure, giving me half his 
 Loaf, and half his Meat, when, perhaps, he had not 
 more than enough for himièlf. What Difference is 
 there between Man and Man 1 I was now pretty well 
 replenifrYd, Thanks be to God and that charitable 
 Fryar. I thought my Fortune would have been made 
 if he had gone the fame Way with me; but, as ill 
 Luck would have it, he went juft the contrary, for he 
 was going to SeviL When he was upon the Point of 
 departure, he put his Hand in his Wallet, and pull'd 
 out another fhiall Loaf he had there, which, he faid, 
 he would divide with me, that I might have my full 
 Share of all he had ; fo praying to God to blels and 
 aiîîft me, he departed. I put up the half Loaf in 
 my Pocket, and having pretty well refreíh'd my felf 
 with this Repaft, and a good Draught of \Y T ater, for 
 the good Fryar had no better, or I had had it, I 
 jogg'd on very contentedly on my Journey. I travcU'd 
 three Leagues farther, and came late at Night to an 
 Jnn, where I fupp'd upon my Piece of Bread, having 
 nothing elfe to eat, and finding no Eo4y there tQ 
 
 R i give 
 
2^6 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 give me any thing. It was a Place where the Mu- 
 leteers lodg'd, fome of whom came thither towards 
 Night. The Hoft allotted me a Lodging in the Hay- 
 loft, whither I went very contentedly, becaufe I 
 could not help my felf to a better. My Supper was, 
 'tis true, fomewhat light, and any one will be apt to 
 believe me when I Swear, I found my Stomach ex- 
 ceeding empty next Morning; neverthelefs, reluming 
 Courage, I went forth to continue my Journey, but 
 I waj hardly out of Doors before the Dog of an 
 Hoft follow'd me fora Penny to pay for my Lodging. 
 I had not a Sous, yet the Rafcal would have taken 
 off my Coat, which was of good Cloth, had not 
 one or the Muleteers, who chanc'd to pais by, took 
 pity on me, and paid the Penny for me. This done, 
 the Villanous Hoft look'd at me, and ask'd me if I 
 would ferve him. At another time I ihould have 
 taken that Queftion for a grofs Affront, but now, in- 
 deed, it was altogether feafonable. I confider'd a 
 while, and being prompted by Hunger to accept his 
 Proffer, told him I would. Enter then into my 
 Houfe, faid he, and know that I {hall require no 
 other Service of you, but to give out Oats and Hay 
 to PalTengei-s, and be fure you keep a good Account 
 of them. I promis'd I would, and fo I was engag'd 
 in his Service without further Trouble. I fpent fome 
 Time in this worthy Employment, eating and 
 drinking tolerably well for one in my Station, ha- 
 ving little to do, for 'till Night came, when the 
 Muleteers arriv'd, I had only Provender to give out 
 to fome accidental Paffengers. 'Twas here I learn'd 
 how to manage Oats to Advantage with hot Water, 
 which made them encreafe a Third : 'Twas here I 
 understood falfe Meafuring, by fweeping the Corn 
 off with my Hand, or thrufting my Arm up to the 
 Elbow in it. 'Twas here, I lay, I was taught to fur- 
 yey the Mangers, and, if I were not well look'd after, 
 to conjure away half the Corn. ■ We had fometimes 
 I » thofe 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 247 
 
 thofe fort of Gentlemen came to our Houfe, who 
 having nicely curl'd Whiskers, and no Servants, took 
 little Care of what was done in the Stables, whereby 
 I had an Opportunity to impofe on them, and rob 
 their poor Beafts as much as I pleas'd ; and which, 
 indeed, my Mailer expe&ed from me, whenever 
 I had fuch People to deal with. As ibon as we faw 
 fuch Fools come, we paid them more than ordinary 
 Refped:, well knowing we mould eaiily be able to 
 make our íelves Amends. We took Care to put their 
 Horfes in fuch Places where they fhould find neither 
 Oats nor Hay, and were furc the dumb Creatures 
 could not find Tongues to difcover our Fraud. If 
 we gave them any Oats, it was juft before they went 
 away, and that icanty Meafure too, and fuch as the 
 Poultry had left. All this was nothing to thofe that 
 took no Care of it ; but when they came to pay, 
 we lhould be fure to hear of it on both fides our Ears. 
 Taxes and Orders indeed were fix'd on the out-lides 
 of the Stable-Doors, but little or nothing was ob- 
 ferv'd of them within. They were plac'd there only to 
 iignify that the Officers muft be paid, and that was 
 fufficient to excufe all Faults. As for the Quantity 
 of Corn the Beafts were to eat, that was a Thing 
 regulated by Cuftom; but then for the Expence of 
 it, I always ask'd Money for twice as much as they 
 had eat, pretending I had given them their full Mea- 
 fure, whereas they had not half cf it, nevertheleis 
 with a baga les buen Trovccho, much good may it do thetn^ 
 at the end of my Account, I never fail'd to get a few 
 Pence for my felf. Some there were that would pay 
 me what I demanded at firft Word, altho' they knew 
 my Bill tobeunreafonable; whereas others, that took 
 rhemfelves to be more cunning, would needs have 
 the Landlord calfd, that they might reckon with 
 him; who, for fear of doing himfelf Wrong, always 
 charg'd more than I had done, fo that have they 
 Money, or have they none, they muft pay to the 
 
 R 4 laft 
 
248 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 laft Maravedís, ib arbitrary are an Inn-keeper's De- 
 mands, as well here, as in other Countries. 'Tis to 
 no purpofe to make a Noife, for they will be fure to 
 be favour'd by the Neighbouring Juftices, or their 
 Clerks, with whom they go Snacks. If it íhould 
 happen, as it fometimes does, that a Gueft difputes 
 his Reckoning, and refufes to pay it, the Hoft will 
 be fure to follow him with a fort of Hue and Cry, and 
 having taken him, pretend he would have fir'd his 
 Houfe, raviih'd his Wife or Daughter, or the like, 
 of which he has always WitneiTes ready ; fo that if 
 the poor Traveller efcapes at laft with paying double 
 what was demanded of him, and begging his Land- 
 lord's Pardon to boot, he may efteem himfelf more 
 than ordinarily happy. In all Houfes, of this kind, 
 there are certain neceifary Animals, call'd Trap- 
 Cuftomers, who are ever at hand to recommend 
 what you ihall find little or nothing of when you 
 come to try. Moreover, if you ever chance to 
 leave any thing here, you may give it up for loft, 
 for you will be lure never to hear of it again. How 
 many Viilanies, Rogueries, Extortions and Rafcali- 
 ties, are committed in thefe Inns ! Neither God nor 
 Juftice is fear'd there, and the greateft Crimes for the 
 moil part go unpuniih'd. One would think, by thefe 
 Practices, the bare being an Hoil entitled a Man to 
 do what he pleas'd, and to uie his Cuftomers as he 
 thought fit ; but for my part, tho' I have been con- 
 fiderably Criminal my felf in this reípeéfc, I judge it 
 high time to put an End to thefe Abufes. Your Land- 
 lord, forfooth, becaufe he gives you Meat, Drink 
 and Lodging for your Money, believes himlèlf em- 
 power'.d to deal by you as he fees beft for his Intereft, 
 without the leaft Regard to Conscience, or juft Deal- 
 ing. I fay, thefe Abufes ought to be reform' d, fince 
 they difcourage Trade, ana make People afraid to 
 go about their lawful Bunnefs, for fear of being im- 
 pos'd on by ihefe worfe than Highwaymen, I mean, 
 *' Raí- 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 54^ 
 
 Rafcally Hofts. I my felf have been an Eye-Witnefs 
 of moft of thefeVillanies I condemn, and if we were 
 to be told., that fuch Things happen d in other Coun- 
 tries, and had not experience them here, we fliould 
 be apt to diftruft the Truth of it, not being able to 
 believe that any Nation could be fo tame as to fuffer 
 them, or fo barbarous as to ad them ; yet, here in 
 Spain, we have daily Examples of this kind. I fay, 
 once more, that a thorough Reformation of thefe 
 Things is what is moft to be defir'd for the Benefit 
 of Travellers, tho' hardlv ever to be expected. For 
 my part, I don't fpeak for my felf, I have but one 
 Journey to make more after I get out of the Gal- 
 lies, which, I truft in God, I fhall before it be long, 
 and that is Home again from whence I firff came, for 
 'tis die Devil of a Life I have undergone, and I have 
 been fufficiently punififd for my Dilobedience to my 
 Mother, in leaving her as I did. 
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 Guzman leave/ his Hoft, and goes a begging to- 
 wards Madrid, where being arrivd, he continues 
 that . employment ^ and having learn d other 
 Arts, falls at loft upon a Difcourfe of Vain Ho- 
 nour, 
 
 THIS Oftler-like Life by no means fuiting with 
 a young Fellow of my Humour, I relblv'd to 
 quit it, and the rather, becaufe I look'd upon it as 
 a diihoneft Calling, and what would not in the leaft 
 contribute towards my grand Defigns. I, moreover, 
 thought it a very mean Employment, as in truth it 
 was, and would not for a thoulànd Lives, that any 
 One iliould have feen and known me in it. Being 
 
 upon 
 
s 5 o The Life and Anions Part I, 
 
 upon the High-Road, I faw every Day Perfons a$ 
 young and as well deferring as I go a begging, if 
 they had no Money; which made me fay to my felf, 
 What a Devil do I ail, that I cannot have the Wit 
 or Induftry of thefe People ? Am I a Chicken, that 
 I ihould want that Courage they feem to have! 
 Hereupon I took Heart, and leaving my Mailer, 
 went to feek my Fortune. The Money I had, 'tis 
 true, was not much, but then I thought I got it 
 honeilly, and therefore it would thrive with me the 
 better. It neverthelefs did not laft long, yet long 
 enough to rid my Way a little ; and when it was 
 gone, I had nothing to do but to ftretch out my 
 Arm, open my Hand, and ihrug up my Shoulders, 
 with a For*the Love of God, Sir, &c. This was worth 
 me fometimes a Penny, fometimes a Half-panny, 
 fometimes only a Gramercy, and fometimes nothing 
 at all. With a Penny or Half-penny I could feed 
 with a Gaudeamus\ but with your Gramercy I could do 
 nothing at all, for it ferv'd me in little or no ftead. 
 It was a very ufelefs fort of Chanty, yet there was 
 fomething to be faid for it, there being, at that time, 
 a general Dearth throughout Spain. Of this, Anda- 
 leu/ia had fome Share, but which was nothing in re- 
 fpedt of whit was found in the Heart of the King- 
 dom, and in the Towns moil remote from the Sea, 
 which fuffer'd extreamly. Then was the Saying 
 verified, Líbrete Dios de la Enfermedad que baxa de Ca- 
 milla, y de Hambre que fube del Andalusia ; That is, God 
 deliver thee from the Vlague. that comes down from Cailile, 
 mtdfrom the Famine that goes up from Andaloufia. 
 
 I profited fo little by this new Trade, and the 
 learning of it coft me fo dear, that at length I re- 
 folv'd to quit it in like manner as I had done the o- 
 ther. I was hereupon minded to make the beft 
 I could of the Clothes I had on my Back, and accor- 
 dingly I fold fome, and pawn d others as occafion 
 ferv'd, beginning with fuch as were of leaíl Ufe to 
 
 me. 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 25 1 
 
 me. By thcfe Means, I foon reduc'd m) r felf to a 
 tatter' d Pair of Breeches, a black Shirt, and a Pair of 
 Stockings with a thoufand Holes in them ; in which 
 Equipage I arriv'd at Madrid, and look'd more like a 
 Slave newly come from the Gallies, than a Gentle- 
 man's Son of a good Family. 
 
 Being thus out of Repair, I could not hope to be 
 employ 'd in any Gentleman's Service, which was, 
 neverthelefs, the utmoft of my Ambition. My Appear- 
 ance was too bad to procure me that Fortune, and he 
 muft have been a bold Man that would have admitted 
 me into his Houfè in this Condition. I had alio 
 fomewhat of the Air of a Rogue, and no Body that 
 faw me, but cried, See that Fellow there, who, to 
 be fure, wants only an Opportunity to put better 
 Clothes upon his Back than he has now on. Thus 
 defpairing of arty Employment, nay that of turning 
 a Spit, I cried to my felf, What fhall I do ? and, at 
 the fame time, fpying a Company of Beggars before 
 me, who by their Miens feem'd to have far'd well, 
 and to have liv'd without Trouble or Care, I refolv'd 
 to join my felf with them. I imagin d I ihould be 
 well receiv'd by them, becaufe I were much of a 
 Piece with them as to Habit • and then, as to Roguery, 
 they could have no Reafon to call my Abilities in 
 Queftion, fince I look'd as much like a Knave as the 
 worft of them. 
 
 I did as I defign'd, and it was well for me I left 
 my Modefty on the Road, for it would have been of 
 no Service to me on this Occafion. It would have 
 been too heavy for a Foot-Traveller to lug along 
 with himj and bcfides, it would have been ufeleis at 
 Madrid, where True Modefty lodges in the Suburbs 
 whilft theFalfe only inhabits the City. For my part, 
 Thanks to my Stars, I had neither the Shadow of one 
 or t'other, and which I were not forry for, becauie 
 the True is troublefome, and makes one do foolifh 
 Things while the Falfe ferves only to impofe upon Peo- 
 ple, 
 
s. ç 2 The Life and Allions Par 1 1. 
 
 pie, and render one more Impudent. I became ib 
 indeed, and began to grow wifer than I was before. 
 I look'd upon the Adventures of the Omelet, the good 
 Supper the Muleteer had, and the Lofs of my Cloak, 
 as ib many Things that happen'd to me in my Pren- 
 ticeihip ; I muft now have other Thoughts, and 
 fince I am come to Madrid, muft let People know 
 I have feen the World, and that I have as much Wit 
 in my Fingers, as in my Head. I had already made 
 Acquaintance with certain Birds of Prey, true 
 Cocks of the Game, whofe Dexterity and Cunning 
 were both to my Liking. I imitated their Example as 
 much as I could, and follow'd them whereioever 
 they went ¿ but as I did not well underftand the Map 
 of the Country, I could not trace them fo nicely as 
 I defir'd. I neverthelefs trod in their Steps as well as 
 I was able, and went the fame Rounds with them, 
 by which Means I foon got a little Money. How- 
 ever, becaufe the Wind was not altogether favoura- 
 ble to me, I always went with my Plummet in my 
 Hand, that I might know the Soundings. In the 
 mean time, I fed as well as I could defire, Prog was 
 not wanting, and I had it rather three times a Day 
 than once, but then I muft give due Attendance, all 
 Hours would not do, and I learn'd that the Gueits 
 were to wait on the Treaters, and not the Treaters 
 on the Guefts. We had our Times for Work, and 
 our Times for Play. As I was young, and knew lit- 
 tle of Gaming, tho'I had always Inclination enough 
 to it, I had hitherto pra&ifed nothing but Cock-all, 
 Marbles, Chuck-farthing, and the like; but at length 
 becoming more bold, 1 ventur'd on All-Fours, One 
 and Thirty, Quinólas, and Trimera. In ihort, I, in a 
 little time, profited fo much in this School, that I let 
 up for an Artift, and attempted Games of greater 
 Confequence ; and, in a Word, was*fo pleas'd with my 
 Courfe of Life, that I would not have chang'd it for 
 any my Anceftors ever led. O what a fine Thing is 
 
 it, 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarachei 255 
 
 it, faid I to my felf, to fwim, and yet no Body hold 
 up my Chin ! The Life of a Beggar, is a Life for a 
 Prince, abounding with variety or Pleafure and Re- 
 creation. No Cares moleft it, no Sorrçws difturb it • 
 but it glides on in that fmooth and eafy manner, that 
 no State on Earth can be more happy. What Fools 
 were my Parents, continued I, to give themfelves io 
 much TroubL| to live unhappily ! What Charges 
 were they not at, what Plagues did they not under- 
 go, to iupport their Commerce and Credit ? What 
 Ineonveniencies did they not fufTer for the fake of 
 this Thing, call'd Honour ? And yet, after all, what 
 is this Honour more than a Mill-ftone, to fink him 
 that has any thing to do with it ? f How many Perils 
 is a Man fubjed to, that entertains and fears to lofe 
 it ? How wary muft he be to take proper Means to 
 preferve it ? Always upon his Guard, and feldom or 
 never at Reft; ever agitated with a thousand diffe- 
 rent Motions. Thefe are the Rocks this Honour 
 drives us upon ; Thefe are the Thorns and Briars 
 we muft walk over. We muft never think of Repofe, 
 but always be, like Rope-Dancers, with one Foot 
 lifted up in the Air. But tell me, prithee, how 
 comes it to pafs that my Honour depends on the 
 Breath of a Slanderer, or the Hands of a Villain ? 
 Is it in my Power to make this Man filent, or that 
 do as he ought ? What Hell-born Fury firft infus'd 
 this Thing, call'd Honour, into the Lleart of Man ? 
 I have always heard fay, Honour was the Produce of 
 Virtue; and that the more Virtuous a Man was, the 
 more Honour he had. If this be fa, as you will be 
 ready to own, then muft a Man be depriv'd of his 
 Virtue, before he can be ïo of his Honour ; and it 
 is impoflîble my Honour íhould be taken from me 
 as long as my Virtue remains untouched. My Wife* 
 according to the once ridiculous Opinion of Spain 
 might take away my Honour by Ioling her own 
 for then 'twas thought, we Two being but one Flefh' 
 
 our 
 
254 Tb € Life <*?id Anions Part I. 
 
 our Honours muft likewife be one and the fame. 
 But this is now an exploded Notion, believ'd only 
 by Sots and Fools, and from which the Men of Wit 
 and Sence havp been for fome time reclaim'd. Hap- 
 py then muft that Man be, who knows not what this 
 lort of Honour is, and which is, indeed, the Bane of 
 Life, depends on the Opinion of the Vulgar, and is 
 oftentimes confer'd on a Rafcal or a mean Fellow, 
 preferably to a Gentleman or an hone* Man. Youl 
 cry, perhaps, What fignifies all this Preaching, when 
 you are fufficiently convinc'd of the validity of what 
 is afferted ? A very fine Gentleman truly ! you cry ; 
 you are fatisfied of this Truth, and yet you fuffer 
 your felf to be daily impos'd on by it, nay, adhere to 
 it as Religioufly, as if the Salvation of your Soul 
 were concern'd in it. Why don't you rather make 
 Honour conflit in cloathing the Naked, feeding the 
 Hungry, and fuch-like Works of Charity, which are 
 truly Honourable, and your Duty ; as likewife are 
 many other Things that I mall omit, for fear of be- 
 ing thought too fevere upon you ? Can you think it an 
 Honour, that you have abundance of Wine in your Cel- 
 lar, and yet the poor Hofpital wants it that is hard 
 by you ? Can you think it an Honour, that your 
 Horfes and Mules are cover'd and adorn'd with rich 
 Trappings, whilft the Poor go daily half-ftarv'd and 
 naked by your Door ? Can you, I fay, take it for 
 an Honour, to have your Wife fplendidly Cloath'd, 
 while your poor Creditors, perhaps, want NeceiTaries? 
 Yet this is the Honour fo much prized now-a-days, 
 and whereof there are but too many Examples. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 255 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Guzman goes on with his Difconrfi againfl Vain. 
 Honour $ and, at loft, comes to jpeak^ of Perfons 
 in High Pofts, and their ?nean Extraction. 
 
 I Was now young, 'tis true ; but as I had naturally 
 a Mind form'd for Reflexions, I did not negled: to 
 make fome that were reafonable enough. I fate 
 fometimes at the Corner of a Street two or three 
 Hours together, with my Hat in my Hand, expe&ing 
 that fomebody would take Notice of me ; but finding 
 few regard me, I could not but refleel: upon my Em- 
 ployment. Very well, quoth I to my felf, for a 
 poor Sous I fee thee, Guzman, become a Slave to all 
 the World, and to be certain thou wilt be happy 
 when thou happen ft to be fo; but after all, con- 
 fider'd I, if I live at my Eafe, and efteem my fclf 
 Happy, what's all the reft, nothing but Whimiy and 
 Imagination. This fame Gentleman that lies lolling 
 in his Coach, does he fleep better than I, feed hear- 
 tier, enjoy his Health more, or pafs his Time with 
 greater Satisfaction ? Undoubtedly not. What is it 
 then thou want'ft, Dear Guzman ? Whilft I was thus 
 reafoning with my felf, one of my Comrades hap- 
 pend to pafs by, who, feeing me alone, would needs 
 bear me Company • but I was fo involv'd in Thought, 
 tho' he was by me, I did not fee him. Taking this 
 occafion to fpeak to me, What means all this Doling, 
 cried he, for a Brother of the carelefs Tribe ? Why, 
 what's the Matter? anfwer'd I, like one that was but 
 newly wak'd out of his Sleep : What are you dream- 
 ing of? purfued he ; have you a Suit of Law to 
 follow, or a Miftrefs to Court, that you feem fo in- 
 tent .* 
 
2§¿ The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 tent ? Neither, I thank God, replied I, I have no 
 fuch Fifh to Fry. I was only thinking, of the diffe- 
 rent States of Life, and, upon mature Deliberation, 
 cannot but efteem ours the beft of any. You are 
 much in the right, replied he; and when you know 
 more, you'l be yet more fatisfied, for at prefent you 
 have experienc'd but little of the Sweets of it. You 
 have been hardly three or four Months with us yet, 
 and much longer Time is requir'd to underftand the 
 perfed Happinefs of a Beggar. He, indeed, might 
 well underftand it, having been an old Dog at it, 
 and drove that Trade at Madrid for many Years, 
 there being fcarce a Man, Woman, Turning, Street 
 or Houfe, in all that great City, but what he knew. 
 There are a great many People, quoth I, and, per- 
 haps, fome great Lords, that do not enjoy themfelves 
 fo well as we, tho' they feem to do ib. There are 
 hardly any, replied my Comrade, but what envy 
 our good Fortune. They have, added I, fomewhat 
 more Honour, but then they pay dearly for it; and 
 when a Man is cur'd of that Folly, he finds himfelf 
 at no Lofs for the want of it. This Honour's a 
 pretty Chimera truly, replied my Friend, which 
 every Body hunts after, and Rogues more than any. 
 There's hardly one of that Gang but would be taken 
 for a Man of Honour. Harkee, faid he to me, do 
 you fee that Cavalier there riding upon his Mule ? 
 Yes I do, ani wer'd I, and I fee People faluting him on 
 all Sides. You're miftaken, replied he, 'tis the Beaft 
 and his gaudy Trappings that they falutc, and not 
 the Man. He was, but t'other Day, Footman to the 
 
 Marquefs of N , and now, forfooth, he's all 
 
 of a fudden become a Man of Quality. If this Gal- 
 lantry continues three Years longer, you'l fee the 
 Marquifs on Foot, and Monfieur the Quondam Foot- 
 man in his Coach and Six ; and, it may be, in a 
 Condition to lend his Mailer Money, if he be honeft 
 Man enough to do it. Next fee this Lady of Ho- 
 t\ nour 
 
Book IL of Guzman cPAIfarache.' 2 5 7 
 
 nour pafs by in her gilded Coach, and obferve how 
 many Obeifances are made her, yet ihe was two 
 Years ago but an A&refs, and ftiil aóls the fame 
 Parts, tho' on another and larger Stage. She has a 
 fine Equipage, numerous Lackies, a Houfe well 
 furniih'd, and every Body almoft goes to pay their 
 Court to her. Who then ihall dare to fay, ihe is not 
 a Woman of Honour ! But whence came all this 
 Wealth to her ? From the Play-Houfe ? No, that 
 cannot be, becaufe your Players ufually die poor, 
 having no other Trade to truil to, when they are 
 difabled from Ailing. She is as fine a Woman as you 
 know ; and, it may be, a Prince has fallen in love 
 with her. With all my Heart ; there's no Woman 
 fure can refufe a Prince, efpecially no Player. There 
 is none of your moil honeil Women, but would be 
 glad to have a Prince for her Bed-fellow. But let's 
 fay no more of her, for here's one of t'other Sex 
 a coming, that makes no lefs a Figure. Your Ser- 
 vant, good Mailer Beau, with your large black Eyes, 
 and your languiihing Air • with your affe&ed Skrew 
 of your Neck, and your ihrugg'd-up Shoulders. I 
 know not how this Creature came to be on Foot, 
 for, generally fpeaking, he keeps the backfide of a 
 Coach warm. Two Footmen follow him, who are 
 almoft as great Beaux as himfelf ; and 'tis ten to one 
 hut they are of a better Family ; yet have I feen this 
 Gallant fill out Wine at his Father's Houfe who ilill 
 keeps a Tavern. But he knows more than other 
 People do, he underilands dexterity of Hand ; and 
 would you have an Ace, a Size, or what Throw you 
 plcafe, he'l immediately give it you. He runs no 
 Rifque for it, for he does it with the greateil Eafe. 
 You mail no fooner ipeak, but have what you call 
 for. If this Game laits, and he finds Bubbles e- 
 nough, you'l in a ihort time fee him a Grand Signior, 
 and, perhaps, one of the greateil Men in his Coun- 
 try. Look, here comes another. Is there any fa- 
 
 S mou** 
 
2ç8v The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 mous Preacher that holds forth hereabouts, that fo many 
 good People vifit our Quarter ? See, here's Don John 
 of ' Cafiile, and a great many others. Don^jolm of 
 Cafrile, interrupt I, who's he, I pray ? What, don't 
 you know the Marquéis of CafriJe, replies he? Where 
 have you livd I wonder, that you mould not know 
 him ? Have not you been for thefe four or five 
 Months at Madrid ? I have, anfwer'd I ; but yet I 
 don't know this Don John. Why, proceeded he, this 
 Don Sfchn of Caftile, who was formerly a Turn-Spit 
 
 in Mr. N 's Kitchin, and afterwards Undcr-Cook 
 
 to Mr. G , is now become Steward and Intendant- 
 Général to my Lord S ; and that yet you ihould 
 
 not know him ! You fee how he rolls along in his 
 Triumphant Coach and Six ; never faluting any, but 
 fuch as have as many Footmen as himielf; and this 
 for fear of Degrading, forfooth. He often fays, a 
 Man of Quality eafily diftinguifh.es himfelf by his 
 Equipage. But hold, here comes another, that is the 
 verieft Rafcal of all. Would you know how this 
 Rogue came to be fo great ? Why, he was a Devoto, 
 that ran from Prifon to Prifon to relieve the Wretch- 
 ed, or at lead pretended to do fo. This Fellow 
 happening one Day to give his Coat to a poor Beg- 
 gar, in the Prefence of a Lady of Quality that 
 was- but juft come from her Devotion, íhe took fuch 
 a Fancy to him for this good Office, that ihe had 
 him into her Houfe, and made him her Steward, 
 giving him the Dire&ion of all her Affairs ; and 
 when íhe came to die, which was foon after, left 
 him all íhe liad, to the great Prejudice of her Re- 
 lations. 'Tis true, he had Suit upon Suit on this Oe- 
 cafion, but at length the Will prov'd good ; and tho* 
 he was fain to part with fomething, to enjoy the reft 
 at quiet, he had, neverthelefs, at leafi: i jooo Ducats 
 a Year left. He that you fee now talking to him, and 
 pays him fo much Refpeét, was one of the Fleirs to 
 tiiat Lady, and hopes to be fo to this Devoto. Now 
 
 the 
 
Book II. of Guzman cPAlfarache. î §p 
 
 the Bufinefs is done, farevvel Prifons, farewel Cha- 
 rity ; there's now no more need of Devotion than 
 what will procure a Man Rcfped, and that you may 
 have for peeping into two or three Churches in a 
 Morning. What you tell me is very furprizing, re- 
 ply I ; but pray, are there many fuch People in this 
 City? Are there many fuch People? áníwer'd he; 
 why the City fwarms with them. Stay, faid he, 
 rifing, the better to view a Man that was furrounded 
 with feveral others, do not you fee that honeit Man 
 there, with his flaunting Periwig, and a Company 
 of Beaux about him ? Yes I do, anfvver'd I, what 
 him ? Why he's the Son of a Taylor, replied he. 
 Impoffible, quoth I. Tis not impoííible, faid he, 
 for Fm fure I know him. His Father has not left oíí 
 his Trade above thefe two Years, and he lives now 
 in the great Square. But how comes he to have fo 
 much Refpe¿t paid him, added I ? What makes Peo- 
 ple bow ïo low, and almoft kneel to him ? O, he's 
 one of the Chief Jufíices, anfwer'd he, and thefe 
 Gentlemen are pleading before him. He has no oc- 
 calion for them, but they have for him. Would you 
 know more ? He has, befides, a great deal of Mo- 
 ney . A great deal of Money ! Yes, does that 
 
 go for nothing with you ? Don't you know that 
 now-a-days your Wit, Honour, Defert, &c. are all 
 meafur'd by Money ? No Body enquires what your 
 true Merit is, but how many thoufand Ducats a Year 
 you have. Neverthelels, it feems to me, quoth Iy 
 that a Fool will be a Fool ftilî, and a Knave a Knave y 
 for all his Money. I am not of your Opinion, re- 
 plied he ; for as foon as a Man comes to be rich, he 
 ceafes to be either a Fool or a Knave, and every 
 Body would laugh at you if you pretended to be of 
 a contrary Opinion. The Laughers are always on 
 their Side, that have wherewithal to give the beft 
 
 Dinner; and I am entirely of Mr. N -'sMind, who 
 
 laid, chat when a Man had Money, he had every Thing. 
 
 S z This 
 
26o The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 This Chief Juitice j however, was of a different Chara- 
 cter; for tho' he was very rich 3 he was likewife immode- 
 rately covetous, which is but too common ; and 
 who, not contented with what he had of his own, 
 was yet defirous of that of his Neighbour ; and by 
 his litigious Temper only had waited part of his 
 Fortune. He thought, neverthelefs, to patch it up 
 again, by an Occafion that offer'd, which was this: 
 He had an only Daughter very handibme, and very 
 intelligent, but whom, tho' íTie had been long of 
 Years to be married, no Body would venture upon, 
 becaufe he would give her no Fortune, but what was 
 to be got out of the Fire. At length, however, a 
 Perfon offer'd altogether to his good Liking. He was 
 Son to á Colle<5lor-General, who had been formerly 
 Tip-Staff to this Judge, but not finding Money come 
 in as he expected, he quitted that Poft ; and, by down- 
 right Dint of Intereft and Importunity, procur'd 
 himfelf the aforefaid Colle&orihip. He had not 
 been long in this Employment before he began to grow 
 exceeding rich, making ufe of all his Arts, of which 
 he had good Store, to further him in it, and where- 
 by, in a ihort time, he heap'd up above a Million of 
 Francs. He had only one Son, whom he was defirous 
 to marry into fome confiderable Family, that might 
 protect him, in cafe he ill o uld be call'd to an Account 
 for his Extortions. Now being acquainted with the 
 
 covetous Humour of Mr. N , he, by a third 
 
 Hand, propos' d this Marriage to # him, giving him 
 to underftand, he requir'd only the Perfon of his 
 Daughter, without any Fortune ; and offer'd, that 
 his Son fhould fettle upon her iooooo Francs, and 
 that he himfelf would lend him, the Father, ? oooo 
 more upon good Security, tho' with no Intereft, 
 for twenty Years. This Propofal was too well lik'd 
 
 by Mr. N to be refus'd by him, and he look'd 
 
 upon the Day it was made him, as the moft fortunate of 
 his Life, therefore was not willing to let it pafs be- 
 fore 
 
Book IL of Guzman <f Alfarache. 2 6 1 
 
 fore the Marriage was confum mated, fo afraid was he 
 of being depriv'd of that advantagious Offer. But 
 as this Matter could not be perfected fo fpeedily as he 
 defir'd, he was fain to content himfelf with taking 
 fuch Meafures as were neceifary, and referr'd the 
 reft to Chance, endeavouring, in the mean time, to 
 keep it conceafd, as much as poflible, from his Re- 
 lations, who were all Perfons of Diftin&ion, and 
 who he knew would oppofe it to the utmoft of their 
 Power. Neverthelefs, as he could not well proceed 
 without acquainting his Daughter with it, ihe no 
 fooner came to underftand it, but, tho' her Father 
 had watch'd her narrowly, ihe inform'd her Uncles 
 of it, protefting fhe would rather die than disho- 
 nour her Blood by fo bafe a Marriage. This alarmd 
 the whole Family, as well on the Father's as Mo- 
 ther's Side, who thereupon deputed two of the moil 
 confiderable of their Number, and both Courtiers, 
 
 to Mr. N ; who having reprefented to him the 
 
 ill Confequences of fuch an Alliance, he only añ- 
 fwer'd, He I intend for my Son-in-Law, has Money. 
 But as they folio w'd him, and urg'd their Reafons 
 with greater vehemency, he began to grow warmer; 
 and at lait running about the Hall, where this Con- 
 ference was, like a Madman, cried out, Fie has Mo- 
 ney, he has Money; and fo left them, retiring into 
 a Clofet, and locking himfelf up. Thcfe Gentle- 
 men, perceiving they were not like'to prevail upon 
 him in this Matter, addrefs'd themfelves to the King 
 about it, whoorder'd, that the young Lady fliould be 
 ihut up in a Convent, till fuch time as it was agreed 
 what Choice ihe fliould make ; from whence it was 
 concluded this Marriage would never happen. But 
 to return to the Fortune of this Son of a Taylor, 
 this illuftrious Judge, continued he, I muit let ycu 
 know, his Father having got coniiderably by his 
 Trade, tu rn'd Merchant, and fo became a Merchant- 
 Taylor., in which Calling he thriv'd fo much, ferving 
 
 S 2 almoít 
 
'%€ 2 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 almoft the whole Court with, what they wanted, 
 that in. lefs than 20 Years he had 12 fine Floufesat 
 Madrid, a confiderable Eftate in Land, many -Coffers 
 full of Money, and 48000 Francs which the Duke of 
 
 £ ow'd him ; upon which, neverthelefs, he did 
 
 not much reckon, however, the Pcft his Son now 
 polfcifes becoming vacant, he ran to that Duke, 
 who no fooner faw him but he cried out, extending 
 his Arms to embrace him, Ah, Dear Sir, I am hear- 
 tily glad to fee you, but I muft beg your Patience 
 yet one fix Months longer, and I will be fure to 
 pay your Debt to a Doit. I come not on that Ac- 
 count, my good Lord, anfwer'd the Merchant-Tay- 
 lor, with a fawning and humble Grin, I thank God 
 I am not fo Self-interefted, I come rather to offer 
 your Grace all that is in my Shop, or whatever 
 elfc lies within the compafs of my poor Ability, 
 which your Grace may difpofe of as you ihall think 
 fit. But, added he fighing, there is an Opportu- 
 nity offers, by which your Grace may make the For- 
 tune of me and my Family by a fingîe Word of 
 your Mouth. Flow, quoth the Duke, is there any 
 I can ferve Mr. Toncet in? (fo was this Rogue's Name J 
 I mould be the moil ungrateful Man in the World, 
 if I did not do ail that lay in my Power. Be aifur'd, 
 Mr. Toncet, continued he, I will not be wanting in 
 any thing that may teitify my Obligations to you, 
 and preferve your Friendship. Then Mr. Toncet told 
 his Grace what his Ambition drove at, which the 
 Duke understanding, and being over-joy 'd that he 
 had an Opportunity to difcharge at once an Article 
 of 48000 Francs, which he muft have paid one time 
 or other, and that he had freih Credit offer'd for as 
 much as he pleas'd, he promis'd to engage in the 
 Matter, which he • did with that Zeal and good 
 Çpndud, that as he was knowing and powerful at 
 Ccurt, he foon brought his End about, and procur'd 
 young Mr. Foncer the Place he now enjoys, tho' he 
 
 under- 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 2Í3 
 
 underftood neither Law nor Lathi. But what is not 
 Money able to do ? We (hall never have done if we 
 continue long here ; for I perceive others of the fame 
 Kidney., who fet up for Lords and Great People, 
 tho' they are of as mean a Parentage as Mr. famet 9 
 yet they fill Places above their Birth, and exercife 
 Employments beyond their Capacity. 
 
 Thus thou fee'ft, my dear Guzman, what thcib 
 People of Honour are, or rather, thefe People that: 
 are fo honour'd, for there's a great deal of difference 
 betwixt one fort and t'other. Perfons of Honour 
 owe the RefpecT: we have for them purely to their 
 Merit, whereas honour'd Perfons are only beholden 
 for theirs to their Pence or their Pons. On the leail 
 Reverfe of Fortune their* Salt melts, and they return 
 to their Primitive Water. When I obferve u. Foot- 
 Kftarii, F.rlct -de Chamlrc, or fome fuch-like Fellow, 
 quitting his Matters Houfe to go and take PqfTerîion 
 of an Employment or Poll has been given him in 
 lieu of Wages, I am almofl tempted to ask him whi- 
 ther he's going. Lie might anfvver me, he's going to 
 fill a Poil has been given him in Recomp'ence of his 
 Services, and to gratify his Defert. I uuderitand 
 you, but are you not likewKe going to rob the Pu- 
 blico ? I rob the Publick ! cries he, I am a Man 
 of Honour. Be as much a Man of Honour as ycu 
 will, reply I, it can be nothing but robbing the Pu- 
 blick, to put fuch Fellows as you in Places which you 
 ¿on t underiland, and which by no means become you. 
 Do you believe the Exercife of thefe Polls to be the 
 fame Thing with brufhing a Coat, tying a Ribbon, 
 Combing a Periwig, filling out a Glafs of Wine, 
 fpreading a Table, or the like trifling Employments, 
 which you are only capable of? Were you ask'd 
 when you had your Place given you, whether you 
 knew what was the Duty of it ? Or did you examine 
 your Ability in reference to the Execution of it ? 
 What fignify al4 thefe Queilions, cry you, interrupt- 
 
 S 4 ing 
 
2 ¿4 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 ing me, every one muft do as he can in this World; 
 Every one muft get what Fortune he can. They 
 that put us into our Places know well what they did 
 I warrant you, and if you queftion it, you muft call 
 them to Account, and not us. Right, my Friends, if 
 any one's to be cali'd to Account/tis your honourable 
 Mafters indeed,who becoming liberal at the Expence 
 of the Publick, the Publick is even with them by 
 charging them home with their ill Condud and 
 Male-adminiftration, and loading them with Scandal 
 and Calumny. 
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 Guzman gives you a long and witty Difcourfi, of 
 his own Invention, again ft the Vanity of Honour $ 
 touching, by the by, on the Vices of Servants, 
 Shopkeepers, Notaries, Pro&ors, Judges, Artifi- 
 cers^ Apothecaries, Phyficians and Lawyers. 
 
 THUS much ihall fiiffice, added he; for tho' we 
 Beggars have a liherty to fpeak, yet ought we 
 not to talk on all Subjects, unlefs we would be bid to 
 mirîd our Scraps, or hourly Employment of cracking 
 Lice. Adieu, for I fee a Pcrfon of my Acquain- 
 tance about to make a Bargain, and I know he will 
 have occalion for my Aíliftance. I muft get a few 
 Maravedí' s to make the Pot boil, or all the Fat will 
 be in the Fire. Flereupon he left me to go to that 
 Man, and I was much concern'd at it, for I took a 
 great deal of Pleafure in hearing him talk. He was 
 a notable cunning Blade of Galicia, who knew a 
 great deal, and was not fo much a Beggar by Necef- 
 fity, as thro' Inclination and Philofophy. He might 
 have liv'd better if he pleas'd, for he was born of 
 
 good 
 
Bpok IL of Guzman d'Alfarache.^ 2^5 
 
 good Parents, and wanted neither Money nor Wir 
 but he lov'd Begging, and wou'd not be induc'd to 
 leave it by all the Reafons couid be given him. All 
 he had told me was freih in my Memory, and de- 
 lighted me whenever I thought ont; but while I was 
 bufi'd with Reflexions, a Shoemaker came and took 
 me off from them, by hiring me to carry a Joint of 
 Mutton after him to his Houfe. As I was following 
 him, I amus'd my felf with reading a Ballad I had 
 found in the Street, the Tune of which I endeavour'd 
 to get. My Mailer hearing me humming, turn'd 
 haftily about, and cry'd, What, Wretch ! can'ft thou 
 read ? Yes, repli'd I, I thank God, and write too. 
 Write, quoth he much furpriz'd, is it poflible ? Yes, 
 faid I, 'tis poflible, for poor as I am, I have been 
 well brought up. Hereupon he ask'd me if I would 
 teach him to write his Name, and he would reward 
 me well for't. I told him, with all my Heart, for 
 that would be an eafy Matter to do. But, faid I 
 what will that fignify if you don't learn further. 
 That will be enough, repli'd he, for in the Employ- 
 ment that Mr. N — has given me for making Shoes 
 for his Family gratis, the bare writing my Name is 
 fufficient. I have hitherto made ufe of a Man for 
 that purpofe, to whom I gave twelve Pair of Shoes 
 a Year, but I would be willing to fave that Charge; 
 befides, I can't but think it a little Scandalous, 
 that an Officer in the Government fhould not be able 
 to write his Name. I told him, I would teach him 
 to write, if he pleas'd, for one Pair of Shoes, with 
 which he was fo well fatisn'd, that he would needs 
 give me them before-hand. We were no fooner got 
 to his Houfe but we began to fcrawl, I finding it 
 not an eafy Matter to make him hold his Pen as he 
 ought, but at the fame time one of his Boys brought 
 me a Pair of Shoes, of which I had great need. 
 
 Upon leaving this Shoemaker, who treated me 
 very handfomely to encourage me to come again, 
 
 and 
 
v66 The Life and Aiïions Part I. 
 
 and which indeed I promis'd, I fell into a great So- 
 liloquy. Very well Guzman, quoth I, thou fee'ft 
 now what this fame Honour is which belongs to 
 Perlons in 'Employment, and that it is fufficient to 
 be a Taylor, a Shoemaker, a Footman, or a Valet 
 de Chambre, to get into a Place, or at leaft fuch 
 Fellows ítand the faireft for Preferment. How 
 many honeil and able Perfons have been fet afide 
 by the fuperior Intereft of thefe Rafeáis? How ma- 
 ny Knights of the refpe&ive Orders of San Jago, 
 Calatrava, and Alcantara, have been oblig'd to pay 
 them Refpect as they pafs'd along in their Coaches 
 and Six ? How many others of the ancient Nobility 
 of Layn Calvo and Nunio Rafura , have found them- 
 felves poftpond to make way for thefe Dogs ! Tell 
 me, Guzman ,who now a-days makes a Difference be- 
 tween thefe Hang-dogs and Perfons of Birth and 
 Merit ? Shall not the former be honour' d and refpe- 
 ¿ted, while the latter are flighted or unknown? Is it 
 Merit is regarded in this Cafe ? No, they that are 
 preferr'd, have either had Money or Patrons ; they 
 have either robb'd or ferv'd; they are eftablifh'd ; 
 they are in Place ; no more is requir'd to procure 
 them that Refpecfc is paid them, while Perfons, with- 
 out thefe Qualifications,are look'd upon as Vagabonds 
 and Beggars. 
 
 I fancy I hear behind me fome Barber drefs'd like 
 a great Lord, who not being able to endure that I 
 ihuuld take this Liberty with his Fraternity, rails at 
 me in his turn. Thefe Barbers are naturally great 
 Babblers. This Fellow, impatient to hear me talk as 
 I did, cries with a fupercilious Air, Tell me I be- 
 feech you, Mr. Dean of the Faculty, you that Ha- 
 rangue thus like a Schoolmafter, and right or wrong 
 will needs reform the World ; what Qualifications do 
 thefe Perfons. want that . you treat thus like Scoun- 
 drels? Are they not Men, and have they not Under- 
 handing, or common Senfe? Is it neceifary they 
 
 mould 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 26 7 
 
 ihould be Do&ors of Law, to enable them to deter- 
 mine Matters of this Nature ? Muft they have read 
 over all the Books of Politicks before they can pre- 
 tend to give Orders right ? And may not a Valet de 
 Chambre s who underftands the Ait of War, be as 
 proper to command a Regiment, as a Gentleman ? 
 But tell me then, you in your Turn, reply I, you 
 that have not been a Captain above thefe three Days, 
 and that only for Shaving well, do you believe 
 there's no more in this Art than thrumming a Guitar 
 or fcratching a Citern, which you boaft you have 
 learn'd without Inítruólion ? The Myftery of War is 
 free for all, anfwers he : 'Tis the only Trade Man 
 can arrive at without Pence, or Pater Noftcr, Birth 
 and Quality iignify little in that reipecl, Virtue does 
 all. Nor is a Soldier envi'd for all this; on the con- 
 trary he is better eftcern d, and that with great Rea- 
 fon, becaufe Feats of Arms are not ib natural to us 
 as the Noblefs, who feem to be born for warlike At- 
 chievements. But, continued I, how many Generals 
 and Leaders of Armies have, in defpight of this na- 
 tural Propeniity in the Nobility to War, been made 
 out of Valtt de Chambres, Serving-men, and fuch 
 Fellows as thou art, notwithitanding they have had 
 no other knowledge of Arms but what they have 
 learn'd by following their Ma iters into the Field, and 
 yet thro' Intereit they have been preferr'd to many 
 brave Officers who have been all over cicatriz'd with 
 Scars. This, Friend, laid I, is leifening and depreda- 
 ting the nobleft Calling that ever was in the World, 
 and which is commonly done by fuch as ihould have 
 the greateit Care of it, becaufe they either are or 
 ought to be Members of it. And then for the Civil 
 Employ ments,'tis certain none of your Tribe are qua- 
 lifi'd for them, for 'tis not combing a Periwig, or car- 
 rying a Flambeau, will bring a Man acquainted with 
 thofe Myfteries. 'Tis the Bulinefs of a Man's Lite to 
 learn them,and unhappy is that Magiitrate that has aSoc 
 
 or 
 
2 ¿3 The Life and ARiom Part I. 
 
 or Blockhead to his Clerk. Don't tell me, that fuch 
 as are to diftribute Juftice to others have occafion for 
 a little good Senfe themfelves ; for if you do, I fhall 
 readily believe you have little or none your felf. If 
 ever there be occafion for good Pilots, 'tis in the Sea 
 of Juftice, where even the moil Expert are liable to 
 Shipwreck. And tho' this happens more by their Ig- 
 norance than their Fault, yet are they no lefs inex- 
 cufable before God and Man, than if they had occa- 
 fion'd it thro' Malice or Envy. As for thy part, Bar- 
 ber, continue I, thou hadft better kept to thy Sha- 
 ving; for if thou believ'ft that Employment and 
 Trailing a Pike are the fame thing, thou art mifta- 
 ken. If thou haft a mind to learn this Trade, I can 
 aflure thee it may coft thee dear, and thou wilt not 
 find it fo eafy as playing upon thy Flageolet to thy 
 Black-bird. But fince thou art advanc'd to this De- 
 gree of a Captain, I dare be pofitive, it will be much 
 if thou doft not difgrace the Colonel that gave it 
 thee. 
 
 I think, Reader, I have pretty well play'd my Part 
 as to Honour and honourable Perfons; if I had not 
 fear'd to tire thy Patience quite out, I had, perhaps, 
 proceeded farther, for 'tis one of the moft deplorable 
 Things in Civil life, that fo Sacred a Character as 
 that of Honour ihould be fo much abus'd as it com- 
 monly is. I will not promife that nothing on the 
 fame Head fhall efcape me hereafter; and if I Ihould 
 happen to fay any thing more on this Subject, thou 
 may 'ft make ufe of it as occafion fhall prêtent. The 
 Sheets will be eafy to turn over, and the Benefit I 
 hope not fmall, tho' I ought to fay nothing in that 
 Cafe. 
 
 I did a few imall Bufineffes more that Day, by 
 which I got a tolerable Subfiftence ; 'but at Night, 
 either becaufe I were not over-well, or that I was 
 more than ordinarily incommoded with thofe Ani- 
 mals that love human Fleih, and are infeparable from 
 
 Beggars, 
 
Book II. of Guzman cTAlfarache. 169 
 
 Beggars, or elfe that my Galicia Spark's Stories and 
 Morals ran in my Head I could not ileep a Wink. I 
 then had recourfe to my Soliloquies, and thus began 
 with my fejf : I fee, Guzman, how the World goes, 
 and therefore am refolv'd to have neither Employ- 
 ment nor Commiffion. I have and do renounce this 
 Thing call'd Honour, and will have nothing to do 
 wiih it. Continue as thou art, my poor Guzman, and 
 let thefe Gentlemen in Places make the World talk 
 of them as much as they pleafe. They are only ad- 
 mitted into Company to be laugh'd at, and one had 
 better be altogether unknown. To accept of a Poil 
 before one is able to manage it, muft needs be a ridi- 
 culous Thing. If thou art afraid of Danger, thou 
 ought'ft not to venture out atSea.Contentthy felf with 
 Swimming between two narrow Shores. Do not co- 
 vet too much Wealth,that thou may'ft apprehend any 
 body's taking it from thee ; nor delire to be fo low, 
 as to want every bodies Afliftance. This laft is abad 
 Part to a£t; 'tis worfe than the Itch to have nothing, 
 'tis having the Plague when every body will fly 
 thee. Do not become a Flatterer to get a Dinner, a 
 Trencher-fly is always uneafy. He muft watch not 
 only his Patron's Words, but Actions ; nay, the leaft 
 Sign muft not efcape him, if he has a mind to be con- 
 tinu'd in favour. Be not only a good Husband of 
 Life, in that, if thou liv'ft well, thou may'ft be re- 
 warded according to thy Merit. Why ihould a Man 
 take fo much Pains, and be fo folicitous about gain- 
 ing a Thing which, perhaps, will vaniih with to Mor- 
 row. Coniider, there's neither mention made now 
 of King Don Velayos Lord Steward, nor Count Her- 
 nando Gonzales's Chamberlain, and yet thefe two 
 were undoubtedly very confiderable in their Time, 
 and, perhaps, as Eminent for their Virtue and good 
 Qualities as their Mafters. But fince they are dead, 
 there's no more faid of them, or their Merits, than if 
 they had never been in the World. Thou may'ft be- 
 lieve 
 
270 The Life and Afîions Part L 
 
 Heve, Guzman, it will be che fcme thing with thee, 
 tho' thou art very tar from being equal with thefe 
 Peribns in any refpect. It can hardly be known 
 whether thou ever hadft a Being. What ihould make 
 People then make all thisBuftle, this Stir, this Noife- 
 fome will do it on account of their Table, for they 
 love to feed well, and fee others do fo at their Ex- 
 pence, which they value themfelves upon; others 
 make all their Honour conflit in fine Cloaths ; and à 
 third fort blufter about their Preferments , without 
 which they cannot be fav'd. No, no, Guzman, thefe 
 Things will by no means agree with thee, and with 
 fuch Cares in thy Head thou wilt be fure to grow 
 Grey before thy time. Leave thefe proud Folks to 
 be drawn along by their Coaches and Six, which ne- 
 verthelefs reproach them with their Villanies, whilft 
 thou art contented to trudge it on, Foot. Go always 
 as becomes thee, and never wear any thing but 
 what's neceífary to keep thee from Cold in Win- 
 ter, or to cover thee in Summer. Let nothing ei- 
 ther Superfluous or Scandalous be about thee. Eat 
 only what's neceífary to fupport Life, for all beyond 
 is unprofitable and ufelefs, and ferves only to injure 
 the Body and Soul. A rich Man does not live the 
 longer for being rich, nor a poor Man die the 
 fooner for being poor. On the contrary, too great 
 abundance of Edibles and Superfluity in feeding, is 
 what occafions a thoufand Difeafes. Happy Guz.- 
 ?nan> nay four times happy art thou, that rifeft when - 
 thou pleafeft , and ferv'fl whom thou think'ft fit, 
 without having occafion to be fervid, by any body. 
 If it be Slavery to have a Mailer, it is certainly a 
 greater to have Servants, as I íhall ihew in its proper 
 Place. At Noon, thou art fure to have thy Dinner 
 ready provided for thee, without being at the Trou- 
 ble of paying either Cook or Butler. Thou art not 
 concerned about thy Cloathing,nor fear'it fpoiling thy 
 Gloaths; no Lace or Ornaments appear there, Thoiï 
 
 art 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarachc. 271 
 
 art only felicitous to keep what thou haft , and if 
 thou lofeft it, 'tis without Regret. Thou haft no 
 Envy, Jealoufy, occahon for Lying, Stealing, or 
 Cringing, to advance thy felf. Thou art always eafy, 
 and 'tis die fame Thing with thee, whether thou go- 
 eft alone, or attended with Servants, whether thou 
 walkcft faft or flow, whether thou laugh'ft or crieft, 
 whether thou eateft or not. Thou art always Gay, 
 always Brisk, always Nimble. The beft Tavern is 
 thine , for there one may be fure to find thee. If 
 there be a good Bit at the Cooks, that will be fure 
 to come into thy Diih, and thy Hunger will not fail 
 to be good Sauce for't. At the Market, thou art al- 
 ways beft pofted. Thou art at all publick Feafts, 
 and no body calls thee to account. In the Winter 
 thou ieek'ft the Sun, in Summer the Shade. Thou 
 fpread'ft thy Table, thou mak'ft thy Bed as large 
 and how thou pleafeft, and no body comes to di- 
 fturb thee, nor does it coft thee a Penny the more. 
 Thou art fafe from all Proceis and Suits, and not 
 any body comes to trefpafs on thy Copyhold. Thou 
 art neither in Danger of being fu'd for any Thing, 
 nor of being lent any Thing, nor need'ft thou fear 
 any Decree coming out againft" thee. Thou need'ft 
 neither apprehend wanting Bail, nor being ask'd to 
 ftand for another, which by the by is no imall Pri- 
 vilege, as the World goes. Thou art above all State- 
 Plots, Bufinefs, Contefts, Quarrels, and the like In- 
 cumbrances of Life , which others are tormented 
 with. In a Word, well fatisfied with thy felf, and 
 contented with every, body elfe, no body has the 
 Power either to moleft or difturb thee. Well pleas'd 
 with thy Condition, thou mind'ft only paffing away 
 thy Time, and, like a Pjiilofopher, look'ft. down with 
 Pity on thofe great Men, who are fo blind as to think 
 themfelves aboye thee. 
 
 All 
 
272 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 All are not born to relifh this Happinefs; but thus, 
 faid I, being about to finiih my fmall Reflexions, 
 God opens the Eyes of the Poor, whilft he blinds 
 thofe of the Rich ; thus he is pleas'd to fend Joy into 
 our Hearts, and make us pafs our Lives as agreeably 
 as thofe that think themfelves in a much happier 
 State. 'Tis true, every one has not a Relliih of this 
 happy Condition, but he that has, ought to prize it, 
 and never fuffer his Mind to be poiibn'd with Chi- 
 merical and Ambitious Thoughts, fuch as mine were, 
 as you will find by what follows. 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 Guzman tells how he fervd a Cook^j and by and by 
 takes occafwn to refle& upon fever al Profejfions. 
 He condemns Gaming and Gameflers. He re- 
 lates a fmall Theft of hh. He difcovers the 
 Rogueries of Stewards, Cooks, Butlers, and other, 
 fuch-like Officers 5 and acquaints you how much 
 Great Men are commonly abus'd by their Servants, 
 He fpeaks of Kings, and their miferable State 5 
 and flews the Vanity of Inferiours contending 
 with Superiours. At tafl, he condemns thofe 
 Majlers that ufe their Servants ill, and tells the 
 ill Confequences of it. 
 
 I 
 
 Enjoy'd this charming Liberty, fo much boafted 
 _ of by the Philofophers, when the Devil, always 
 an Enemy to the Repofe o£ Man, put it into the 
 Head of a curfed Cook, to think me proper for a 
 Scullion-Boy. He knew me, he was one of my 
 Mailers that us'd to employ me. I often made him 
 laugh by Ways I had, and Jeits I utter'd. He 
 
 thought 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'AIfarache. 273 
 
 thought me an honefter Fellow than moil of my 
 Companions, and that made him love me. One 
 Day, which, indeed, was an unlucky one for me, 
 after I had carried home ibme Poultry for him, and 
 he had given me both Meat and Drink, as- was his 
 ufual Cuftom, he began to difcourfe me as fol- 
 lows, which being very fubtil and defigning, could 
 not but have been ftudied for feme time : Friend 
 a: Guzman, quoth he, wilt thou always be a Beggar, 
 Si and carry a Basket about all thy Lifelong. Thou 
 iC haft Wit, thou look'ft like one of a good Family, 
 " and feem'ft to have an Inclination to Good, there- 
 c: fore mud be taken Care of. 'Tis high Time, and 
 ff at the Age thou art of, thou ought/ft to have begun 
 cc to work. I have taken a Fancy to thee from the 
 " Exaftnefs and Fidelity I have obferv'd in thee, and 
 rc would willingly aflift thee, in becoming fomething 
 <f fuitable to thy Merit. In a Word , I have ftx'd my Eye 
 cc upon thee to be my Scullion-Boy, whofe Place has 
 çc been vacant for fome time ; and if thou wilt approve 
 u thy felf a diligent Lad, thou may 'ft learn a Trade 
 ff will be a Support to thee for ever, and which thou 
 " wilt never think thy felf enough oblig'd to me for 
 (C Thou wilt foon be fenfible of the Advantage of 
 ■ c the Kitchin, which is the fureft Step to Preferment. 
 cc in any -Gentleman's Houfe. Thou need'ft only pleafe 
 Cf thy Mailer's Palate, make him a little nice Ragout 
 (C now and then to give him occafion to commend 
 çc his Table, and fometimes prefent one of his Mi- 
 (C flreiTes with a good Plate or two, and thy Bufinefs ia 
 f c done, thy Fortune is made from that very Mo- 
 rc ment : It is taking a Giant's Stride towards Pre- 
 f c ferment. See the King's Houihold-Steward, who 
 " I my felf have known Scullion-Boy to a private 
 tc Gentleman ; -I can't tell whether he did not once 
 tc wear a Livery ,but now thou.fee'ft how he is preferr'd ; 
 fC inftead of wearing a Livery, he has fix lufty Fel- 
 ■ ( lows that follow him in Liveries wí>erevar'.he goes. 
 
 T I e Ah, 
 
274 7he Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 Ah, Gwzsmr . G a Cook is not fo mean a 
 
 ' Poft as thou may'ft imagme^ I know one, now-a- 
 <e days, that is Chief-Mini iter to a Great Prince, and 
 c his Fac-Totum, fo hier»! iüs Virtue, and á little In- 
 * duftry, • has advane'd him. I have Orders from my 
 <c Lord to look out for a good Scullion-Boy, and I 
 Cc think I have executed my Commiffion well in 
 Cc finding thee. The other Boy we had, had the good 
 <c Fortune to pleaic my Lady, and fhe has preferr'd 
 Cc him to be her Page. Canil thou delire any thing 
 <c greater at firft, and yet 'tis the leaif. Preferment 
 cc thou may 'ft expect, in that thou art a handfomer 
 cc Youth than he, and haft infinitely more Wit. „ Who 
 could have thought that I, who have made fo many 
 fine Reflections on Honour, on Places, and on all 
 other Varieties of this World, could at laft have fuf- 
 fer'd my felf to be led by the Nofe, and impos'd 
 upon- by the airy Vifions and fpecious Pretences of a 
 Rafcally Cook. How frail is Man ! and how different 
 when he fpeaks himfelf, and when others fpeak to 
 him ! How little a matter difrelifhes all the Sweets of 
 Life ! A little Wind in thy Head brings all thy Af- 
 fairs into Diforder. In a Word, 'tis the Deftiny of 
 Man not to know when he's well, and to be ever 
 hunting after Misfortunes, and this becaufe he al- 
 ways delires to be in a better Condition than he ought 
 to be, or what's neceifary for him. I fay to my fclf, 
 J am delirous to tail a little Preferment ; 1 rifque no 
 great Matter, and if I do not fucceed in it, the Gate 
 of Beggary is ftiil open. I can't well fall lower, and 
 that's my Comfort. I had a mind to have a little 
 Honour, to -fee what would come of it. I agreed 
 then to the Propofal made me, but that not without 
 Regret, or fear of repenting of my Folly, for ex- 
 changing my Liberty ïo readily for the Pod of a 
 Scullion-Boy to a great Lord. I was immediately 
 carried to pay my Refpech to his Lordiliip, and to be 
 admitted among the Number of his molt humble Vaf- 
 
 íaís. 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 27 5 
 
 fais. He had already had a Character of me : So 
 that I no fooner appear'd, but he cried, with a grave 
 and gibing Air, What is the Plcafure of this Lord of 
 Toca-Ropa) (Flw Cloatbs.) Has he any Pretentions at 
 Court? Would he be made a Knight -of the G 
 Fleece, or what other Order ? Has he a mind to mai- 
 ry any Marchioncfs or Countefs ? Is he in fuit (oï 
 íbme confiderable Inheritance, and would have fa- 
 vour ? Muff I fpeak to the King about him ? Or, in 
 a Word, what elfe is it that I muft do for him . ; All 
 thefe Compliments, which I plainly percciv'd were 
 Jefts upon me, were enough to have diimounted any 
 one of lefs Aifurance than my fclf; but I flood Bluff, 
 and, having made him a thoufand Cringes, anfwer'd, 
 with an Air as grave as his, My Lord, I am the Lord 
 of * Ilk feas, and your m oft humble * a poor Town' 
 Servant; and being like-wife Knight of W* Toledo, 
 the Begging-Order, have no greater Ambition than 
 to ferve your Lordfliip in your Kitchin, in quality of 
 your faithful Slave and Scullion-Boy. This bold An- 
 iwer from a Youth he thought was altogether lilenc'd, 
 pleas'd him exceedingly, and made him to laugh 
 heartily ; whereupon he told me, I was welcome, and 
 that I had nothing to do but to ferve him faithfully, 
 and he would take Care of me : A common Compli- 
 ment with great Folks, whofe Sight nevertheleis 
 you (hall be no fooner out of, but they forget bptb ' 
 you and their Promifes. 
 
 Now am I become a Graduate in Scullionry, with 
 a white Apron before me, a Napkin-Cap on my 
 Head, my Hair tuck'd up under it, and a Knife In 
 my Girdle to ihred Parflcy with. I had not yet learn'd 
 to Lard, becaufe that was a Mafter-ftroke, and 'twas 
 not every one could do it. Whilft I was thus em- 
 ploya, I law the Servants coming and going, and 
 mcit of them bulled in abufing their Lord one w 
 or other. One would have Eggs, another 
 have Butter, a third fort Meat, a fourth a 1 
 
 T 2 
 
2f6 The Life and A£í ions Partí. 
 
 a fifth a Soupe, and a fixth a good chopping-piece 
 °f Paify-Cruit. Every one was for having what he 
 demanded, and another thing, tho' good in its Kind, 
 would not ferve his turn. Good God, faid I to my felf, 
 What a Confufion is here ? And what a Havock do thefe 
 Rafeáis make of their Lord's Edibles ? If any one hap- 
 pens to go in another Road, they'l be fure to hoot 
 him, and count him either a Blockhead or a lazy in- 
 fignifieant Wretch. They'l fpread a thoufand Lies 
 about him to make him odious and contemptible, 
 and at lait, it may be, get him turn'd away for his 
 Honefty. Again, if you turn your Head on the 
 other fide, you meet with a pilfering, ilothful, idle, 
 drunken Drab of a Wench, who, tho' ihe does 
 Things ever fo odly, you muft never call her 
 to account, becaufe ihe, forfooth, is Favourite or 
 Niece to Madam the Governante or Houfekeeper, 
 who is an old Toothlefs Jade, with too much Autho- 
 rity, and too little Underitanding. She {hall always 
 have a Troop of Kindred at her Breech, who are 
 fure to have Tit-Bits enough • and when file wants 
 Wine, it muft be the itrongeft fort, becaufe her Sto- 
 mach's cold, and fometimes ihe will have Pepper and 
 Ginger boifd in it to warm her fuperannuated Con- 
 ilitution. Now, faid I to my felf, is not all the 
 World like thefe He and She Servants, who does not 
 endeavour to rob, cheat and pilfer what they can ? 
 I need only go out of Doors and look about me, and 
 I ihall be fure to meet with either falfe Weights or 
 falfe Meafures, either in the Markets or Shops. If 
 we go a little higher, and take notice of the greater 
 fort of Rogues, who can be more fo than Notaries, 
 who will fell their very Souls for a few Ducats ? What 
 can be more Mercenary than their Tongues, or more 
 dangerous than their Pens ? If you leave thefe Fel- 
 lows and go to Attorneys, what will you get by that? 
 They'l plunge you into greater Difficulties than»ever, 
 and only let you have Lies and Uncertainties for 
 
 your 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache; 277 
 
 your Money ; but I can aíTure you,you'l never fee an End 
 of your Caufe as long as you have a Penny left, and then 
 perhaps you may. Go to the grave Councellor, and 
 he'l tell you a fme Tale for your Gold, yet never do 
 you a jot oi' Service, but rather Diifervicc. If he gives 
 you the bed Advice in the World, he'l be furc to be- 
 tray the Weaknefs of your Caufe to your Adverfa- 
 ry for as much more. He's certainly a Rogue if 
 there be one in Nature, and knows all the Quirks, 
 Shifts and Trick?, to prolong a Suit. But pray tell 
 me, Mr. Pedro, you that go every Day to Mafs, and 
 confcis your ielf at leaft once a Month, how can you 
 have the Conference to plead for one that never pays 
 any Body, nor cares what becomes of his Cre- 
 ditors ? Who pretends, there's the Lord knows what 
 owing to him, and therefore cjres not what he owes. 
 Who, becaufe one Man has injur'd him, will let a 
 hundred (larve for want of their due Debts. How 
 can you, I fay, have the Face to go to Church ib 
 frequently, and yet give your Advice to opprefs ho- 
 neft People ? Where is your Confcience, and in fpite 
 of your Hours and your Beads, what Religion do you 
 pretend to be of ? But I fhall fay more to you in ano- 
 ther Place, and therefore, at prefent, will releafc you. 
 I muft now talk to a certain Judge, who fets up for a 
 judicious Perfon, and pretends to underftand every 
 thing, yet underftands nothing, nor dees any Body 
 underftand him, fo well he expreifes himfelf. You 
 jfhould have feen him while he was in purfuit of the 
 Poft he enjoys, and you would have found him as; 
 tame as a Bull among Heifers ; but when once he 
 was poifefs'd of his Place, he rav'd and bellow'd a- 
 Dont without Provocation. He was contented before 
 with a patch'd Habit to keep himfelf from Thieves, 
 but now you fee him all in Velvet, from Head to 
 foot 3 and if he wears Cloth, there's net any fine 
 enough in all Segovia to pleafe him. But at whoie 
 Expence does he do all this ? Why, at whole iliould 
 
 T 3 be, 
 
278 The Life and AU ions Part I. 
 
 he, but at that of the Publick. Wherever he lights* 
 he muft have either a Leg or a Wing. He makes no 
 Step anprofitably. He has Bufinefs every where, 
 and every where fomething to fay. Ko Body can 
 appear Innocent before him., and if there be Money- 
 in the Cafe, no Body can appear guilty. Let us go 
 on. Here's an Apothecary behind his Counter, ask 
 him if he has not fuch a Drug, or iuch a Medicine, 
 and he'l be lure to anfwer you, Yes. He won't cry 
 ftinking Fiih, and tell you he has none that's good; 
 or, perhaps, he may give you ibmething like it, or 
 it may be juft contrary to it. As for Oils, Syrups, 
 diÍT.ili'4 Waters, and the I ike, they are generally ipoil'd 
 with him, and yet he'l juftify them, and tell you the 
 Good and Bad muft go together. I will not anfwer 
 for him, that he fhan't Poifon you rather than not 
 take your Money. It is but making up theie Drugs, 
 good or bad, according to the Prefcription; and 
 whether they do you good or harm, cure or kill, 'tis 
 nothing to him, he's paid let it go how it will. If 
 he can but put them up neatly, and fend them away 
 ipeedily, 'tis all he cares for. Expedition only is re- 
 quir'd of him, and tho' the Difeafe be prolong'd by 
 the Médecine, he'l tell you he can't help it. But 
 here comes the Spruce Phyfician, who takes care of 
 all, and who having enquir'd of the Apothecaries 
 Boy if his Prefcription had been rightly obferv'd, 
 goes away contented, perhaps, without an Anfwer. 
 Next the Patient is vifited, his Pulfe felt, his Tongue 
 view'd, and thefe Queftions put to him ; Have you 
 flept well ? Have you been at Stool ? "Have you any 
 Stomach? All thefe are anfwer'd wife -a make of 
 the Head.. So much the worfe. Then the Urinal is 
 brought forth, and no Comfort is found there. A- 
 nother Prefcription muft be Pentid immediately ; 
 after which, a Turn or two is taken in the Roorm, 
 Mit frill nothing comes. Bad, Bad, the Patient may 
 die If bttter Care be not takea Sir, my Lady de- 
 lires 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 27^ 
 
 lires you would pleafc to accept of two Tifióles, Ah, 
 there was no occaiion For it : What I do, is more out 
 of Friendihip than Jntereft; brut fince your Lady 
 will have it fo, I muil obey her. You may tell her., 
 Sweet-heart, her Husband is in no manner of Dan- 
 ger, and that hel be a found Man a£ain after two 
 or three Fits more ; but if any thins: fliould happen 
 to the contrary, flic need only fend for me, either 
 by Night or by Day, I jfliall be always ready to wait 
 on her, to do her, or the Gentleman her Husband, 
 what Service I am able. 
 
 I return to my Kitchin, for I can fee nothing but 
 Villanies, Thefts and Rogueries, ïn SU other Places, 
 as well as there. Courage, Guzman, here's Bacon 
 brought thee to cut into fin-' : SKces for Larding • 
 I'll do it I warrant, and be in to take Care of my 
 fell" to boot, according to i I was like a 
 
 Cock in a Pye, in this HoufL I dept ided only on 
 the Cook, who was married id lodg'd and eat a- 
 part with him and his Wif ht I. might, be the 
 readier at hand when he want.d tic. Ar my Hours 
 oí Leifurc, 'tis trtie, I was willing to oblige every 
 Body, being naturally officious a id good humour'd, 
 which made me belov'd by ail. and I confequently 
 rccciv'd a great many fmall Gratifications from the 
 Servants of both Sexes. I perform' d their Commif- 
 fions faithfully and iecretly, which procured me a 
 good Opinion throughout the whole Houfe. Now 
 :¡s to the Kitchin, you muft know I always came 
 firit into it, and -went lait out of it ; and, in a Word, 
 I acquitted my felt fo well of my Duty, that no 
 Body could "be* better fatisfted with a Servant, than 
 my Á-íafter feenfd with me. This, you may imagine, 
 coft mc no fmall Trouble, but that's nothing, one 
 lofes nothing by that in the End ; if one is not re- 
 warded, one has at leaft the Satisfaction of having 
 done well, and that's fomcthing. For the reft, we 
 arc to refer our felves to Hereafter, when we ihall 
 
 T 4 ■ be 
 
fi.8® The Life and Anions Part \> 
 
 be furely reccmpencd. Well, what I can fay far- 
 ther is, that fetting afide the Begging-Trade, which 
 is certainly one of the molt charming in the World, 
 and which will admit of no Comparifon, there can- 
 not be a pleafanter than that I drove in this Kitchin, 
 for confidering I had been bred to good Cheer, I let 
 no Tit-Bits efcape me. No Plate came in or went 
 out but I had a Lick at it, I mutt always tail the 
 Sauce, to fee whether it was good, and the roañ 
 or boil'd Things to know whether they were well or- 
 der'd. My Matter was, indeed, a famous Cook, 
 and all the Treaters of St. Giles's, St. Domini ck, the 
 Gate of the Sun, the Great Market-Place and Tokdc- 
 Street, were but as fo many Sutlers to him. I 
 might have' been happy enough, if it had not 
 been for that curfed Humour of Gaming which I 
 fell into, upon feeing the Lackies and Pages play. 
 At iirft I fpent only now and then a quarter of aii 
 Hour at it, and that at fuch Times as I could beft be 
 fpar'd ; but at laft I came to fit out whole Nights, 
 and thought my felf wrong'd if I were check'd for 
 it. However, fcarce any Body would do me that 
 Injury as to acquaint my Matter with it, and when 
 they did, I had always an Excufe at hand, which 
 ferv'd me inftead of a Reafon. . But the worft was, 
 I generally loll my Money, and if I would proceed, 
 I mutt either Coin or Steal, as others did. I plainly 
 faw this Life would not laft, and my Matter being 
 as great a Rogue as any Body, I propos'd his Exam- 
 ple for my ñiture Subíiftence. There's no Vice but 
 what a Gamefter is guilty of ; Gaming Isa Sea, where- 
 ¡n â\l the leffer Rivers of Villany empty themfelves. 
 A Gamefter is utterly incapacitated to do Good, and 
 is always endeavouring at Evil. You mutt never 
 believe a Word . that comes out of his Mouth. He's 
 always either Lying, ór preparing to do íó. He 
 knows not what it is to have a Friend, for he fpares 
 hot c/çn lus neareít Relations. An honcft Man':, 
 ' • £e~ 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarachc. iSt 
 
 Reputation he laughs at, and he cries up the Dexte* 
 rity of a Villain. The Game, fays he, goes always 
 to the cunningeft Fellow, and it is not reckond 
 Knavery in him to win it, tho' unwarrantably, but 
 Addreis. I iorgive hifn that knows more than I, that 
 I may have the like Favour when it comes to my 
 turn. Gsfming is a Battel, wherein the ftrongeit 
 Side has generally the better. But you difhonour 
 your Family by this ignoble Praciife. My Family i 
 a Trifle. What Family is there that has not either a 
 Rogue or a Whore in it, and mull the whole Race be 
 diihonour'd for the Fault of one ? I game not with 
 intent to lofe, but to win; and whatever contributes 
 to that End, is warrantable with me. Otherwife, 
 how would fo many honeft Fellows live, that depend 
 wholly on Play ? 'Tis impoilible to game long, with- 
 out being skilful at it ; and if Stratagems are allowd 
 in War, why mayn't they as well be tolerated here ? 
 This is reafoning like one that looks upon his Neigh- 
 bour's Goods as his own. But let him have an ill 
 Hand at Play, and fee what a deplorable Figure he 
 makes. He Frets, he Storms, he Swears, and gives 
 himfelf to the Devil a thoufand times an Hour 
 to recover his loit Fortune; but feeing all inefre&ual, 
 he goes home mightily dilcontented, and will fee 
 no Body. Every thing difpleaies and torments him. 
 He ihuts himlelf up in his Chamber, and, taking a 
 Pack of Cards, Plays the Game over with hîm- 
 ïelf, to fee where his Fault lay. Having found it, he 
 lifts up his Eyes in a great Paillon, and tears the 
 treacherous Devils in a thoufand Pieces, eating them 
 Bit by^Bit after he has done. Thus he fpends great 
 part of the Night, for Sleep he cannot ; and next 
 Morning getting up betimes, goes to the fame Ga- 
 rning-Houle again, where he had loft his Money, 
 demanding Revenge, which is given him, and k% 
 he lofes every Penny he had rais'd by pawning his 
 Vyife's Jewels. This done, he return* home once 
 
 more* 
 
282 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 more, curfing, Wafpheming an dfaving like one Pof- 
 fefs'd * and all this without fpeaking a Word to any 
 Body. He's no iooner within Doors, but he redoubles 
 his Imprecations in a terrible manner, and nothing 
 will iatisfy or pacify him. IF he's asVd to car, he 
 refufes it. He throws himfelf upon his Bed, and im- 
 mediately Madnefs takes i'uch entire Poífeífion of 
 him, that he's fit for nothing but Bedlam, O Man, 
 how frail thou art ! I fhould never have done, if I 
 extended this Character as far as I might rcafonably 
 do ; but let no one believe I form this out of my 
 own Head, that this is a Child of my Imagination. 
 I paint after Nature, and this is nothing but what 
 I and every Body elfe has feen more than once. It 
 is a true Original, as all the other Pieces are, that I ex- 
 poie to Sale in this my Shop ; where I have Mirrours 
 for all forts of People, by which they may reform 
 themfelves, if they think fit. Life is ihort, and the 
 Pra¿Hce of this Virtue a little difficult. Every one 
 pretends to be perfect, or, at leaft, to have but very 
 few Faults. I have one Shoulder a little higher than 
 t'other, but I am not Hunch-back'd for all that, for 
 no Body knows it befides my Taylor and my felf. 
 We may hide our Defe&s if we will, and thoie chat 
 are not too vifible may be eafily conceafd. My De- 
 fecl: was chiefly that of Gaming, which engag'd me 
 m a'thoufand other Rogueries, and became both my 
 Crime and my Puniihment. I could not get rid of 
 this pernicious Inclination, and whatever I got, 
 either by fair Means or foul, I ihould be fure to 
 lofe that way. Money's only of ufe to Good Peo- 
 ple, who know how to employ it well; but as for 
 Bad, it ferves meerly to ruin and deilroy them. It 
 is with them, as with fome Creatures who fuel; "' 
 nom from the fame Herbs and Howers that B 
 make Honey of 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarachc. 283 
 
 I began to pick up Knowledge in my Profciîîon 
 of a Scullion, and might have taken my Degrees in 
 a fliort time, for I was well belc 1 d by my Mailer, 
 had it not been for this curfed Humour of Gaming. 
 In tine, it quite fpoifd me : It taught me to Pilfer, 
 to Which, however, I was bur too much ericlin'd na- 
 turally ; and whenever I had loft my Money, I 
 would be fure to have recouiTe to Means to get more 
 without turning Coiner. I would cail my Eyes all 
 about the Houfe, to lee if I could fpy .any thing 
 that might make up what I was out of 'Pocket. 
 Small Matters in the Kitchin were an aifur'd Penny 
 to me, I never let them Hip, for I need only take 
 my Time, and they were my own. This was alio 
 what I were perfeéfcly gifted in, for I managed my 
 Thefts ib difcreetly, that no Body in the Houfe haà 
 the leait Sufpicion of me. One Day, my Mailer 
 having treated feveral Friends of his, good Bottle- 
 Companions like himfelf, with a Collation, and gi- 
 ven them good Hams, and other. relifhing Bits,'^> 
 make them Taile their Wine, I, upon my return 
 from the Kitchin, where I had done mv Work, ve- 
 ry fbrrowful to think I had not a Penny left to play 
 for a Quarter of an Hour, found the Coa.il was 
 clear, tho' I fáw there had been good Chear. The 
 GucilsweiT gone, very Gay you muil fuppofe, but 
 the Doors were left wide .open, and the Table- 
 Cloth not taken away ; ib that the Bottles, Plates, 
 and the like, remaih'd in an ngreeable Diforder." 
 Among thefe lay a Silver Cup that they had drank 
 out of, which one would have thought .might have 
 been taken better Care of for the Value-iake. As 
 for my Mailer, thb' I did not fee him, I heard him 
 plain enough ; for having thrown himfelf on the 
 Bed, he lay fnoring like the Drone-Pipe of an 
 Organ, and m?de all the Houfe ring With the 
 No'ife. My Miftreft, poor Woman, who defir'd 
 to imitate her Husband in all Things, and lov'd a 
 
 Bottle 
 
a 8 4 The Life and Aniens Par 1 1. 
 
 Bottle as well as he, lay by to keep him Company., 
 and perhaps was no more fober than he. The Sil- 
 ver Cup tempted me : Flefh is frail, quoth I, efpe- 
 cially in one that has loft his Money, and knows 
 not where to get more to Game with. As I came 
 in unobferv'd, To may I go out, and nothing is to be 
 hegleót.ed, for in great Affairs a Man cannot have 
 too great Precaution. I went into my Mailer's 
 Chamber to fee if he ílept ilill, and found' both 
 him and my Miftrefs as fail as a Church. I then cryVi 
 ibftly, Mr. Cup, I mult beg your Pardon ; and lo 
 took him, and put him into my Pocket. Then I 
 return'd to the Kitchin, where I found my ielf Em- 
 ployment till fuch time as my Mailer came in, fome- 
 what recover'd from his Debauch, but his Head ak'd 
 terribly. He was out of Humour, and immediately 
 began to Quarrel with me for laying on a Fagot 
 too much, telling me, he belicv'd I had a mind to 
 fire the Houfe. I made no Reply ; and as he was 
 not in a Condition to work, I got ready the Supper 
 ail* well as I could, and ferv'd it up; which done, 
 We retir'd as ufual. Mv Mailer was good for no- 
 thing but to go to Bed, which he did as ibon as he 
 got to his Appartment. I found my Miitrefs more 
 wakeful, and very much afflicted and concern'd. Í 
 prcfently guefs'd the Caufe of it, tho' I feem'd to 
 know nothing of the Matter, therefore ask'd her 
 what ihe ail'd. She having always put great Confi- 
 dence in me, told me the Lofs of the Cup, and that 
 ihe had Look'd all over the Houfe for't, but could not 
 find it. 'Tis not fo much for the Value of it, quoth 
 ihe, but the PafTion it will put my Husband in when 
 he comes to know it is gone. He'l be ready to 
 knock me o'th' Head for't. Í endeavour'd to com- 
 fort her all I could, and indeed was the propereft 
 Perfon. I told her, there was a Remedy for all 
 Things, and that this Cup was not fo extraordinary,, 
 but there might be found one like it ; therefore ad- 
 
 vis d 
 
Book íl of Guzman d'Alfarache. 285 
 
 vis'd her to get a new one made of the fame Weight 
 and Faihion, and fhe might pretend to her Husband 
 (lie had chang'd the old one, or got it new boil'd, 
 becaufe it was furr'd and tarniih'd. The firft Pro- 
 pofal ilie lik'd beft ; but as flic could not well go 
 out, becaufe her Husband was apt to be jealous, tho' 
 ilie was not extraordinary handfomc, íhe deiir'd me 
 to take that Task upen me,and go to the Goldfmiths, 
 and fee if I could meet with one any thing like it, 
 for flic faid, 1 muft needs know what fort of Cup 
 it was, having fecn it fo often. I told her, I would 
 do all that lay in my Power to ferve her in this, or 
 any thing elie ; and fo next Morning betimes, be- 
 fore my Mailer was up, I carried the Cup to a Gold- 
 iinith a good way off from cur Houfe, and defir'd 
 him to trick it up as if it had been new, which he 
 promis'd to do, and that in a ihort time. Return- 
 ing home, I gave my Miftrefs an Account of my 
 Commiiîîon, or at leaft as much of it as I thought 
 proper, telling her, I had met with a Cup ib exact- 
 ly like hers, that they could not well be known 
 afunder, but that the Goldfmith would not abate a 
 Farthing of 2^ Francs for it. She could not think 
 that unreafonable, becaufe the old one had coft very 
 near as much, and that I knew full well, for I hacl 
 weigh'd it. She feem'd exceedingly fatisfyd with 
 what I had done, and therefore out of an Impa- 
 tience to have the Cup, ilie ran to her Chamber, 
 .and immediately fetch'd me the Money, giving me 
 half a Real for my Pains. I took it, but as I was 
 otherwife employ 'd by my Matter all that Day, I 
 could not go to the Goldfmith's till towards Night, 
 when I found an Opportunity, and went ; ano!" ha- 
 ving brought home the Cup, my Miftrefs was per- 
 fectly charm'd with it, and I no lefs, in that it 
 had been the Occafion of my getting fo much Mo- 
 ney. I now had wherewithal to Game afreih, but, 
 alas ! it did not laft long ; for having to do with 
 
 thofe 
 
2 8 6 The Life an J Anions Part I. 
 
 thofe that were cunninger than my felf, they Toon 
 itrip'd me of what I had. I began indeed to flip 
 Cards., to make falíé Lifts., to Palm, and the like 
 fort or" Viilanies practise by Sharpers ; but then I 
 couid put thofe Tricks only on the young Pages, 
 who had not much Money to lofe. As for thofe 
 that play'd higher, they were greater Rogues than 
 my felf, and took Care I mould get nothing of 
 them. If I got oír Scot-free, 'twas all I muir, ex- 
 pect, but generally I came off Lofer. 
 
 I could not carrv this Trade on long without be- 
 ing taken Notice of. My Fellow-Servants oblcrv'd 
 I often play'd, and feldom or never won, which 
 made them think I mult have fome indired Ways 
 for recruiting my felf. They talk'd of it fo fre- 
 quently, that at laft it came to my Matter's Ears, 
 who aifo had begun to fufpecl: me, not feeing me 
 io diligent in the Kitchin as 1 was wont to be. 
 He refolv'd to watch me, and have an Eye upon 
 my Actions. Thus Thieves are accuftorn d to be 
 jealous one of another, and cannot fuifer one below 
 them to pry into their Rogueries. No Mother can 
 be fo fevere upon a Daughter's Practices as ihe that 
 has been guilty of the Hike Crimes, nor Mailer fo 
 unmerciful to his pilfering Servant as he that is the 
 greateit Pilferer himfelf. My Mafter was one that 
 underftood this Bufinefs beil of any, and yet, for-: 
 footh, he took an Affection to me for the Fidelity he 
 imagin d in me. But who is it that was not a Thief 
 in this Houfe ? The Steward, Gentleman-Uiher, 
 Valet de Chambre, Butler, Cook, Pages, Coachman 
 and Footmen were, and who I wonder ihould 
 efcape ? Every one fought to make his Neil as well 
 as he could, and no Body took Notice of what the 
 other did, but all kept the Secret out of a common 
 Intereft religiouily, and all confented to cheat their 
 Mafter whenever they had Opportunity. Tell-Tales 
 and Squeakers were fure to be kick'd out of Com- 
 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 287 
 
 pany, and could not itay long in that Houfe. They 
 would all combine againft them, and one way or 
 other get them out, that they might be able to tell 
 no more Tales. Either they were hooted and driven 
 out, or fo perlecuted, that they were not able to (lay. 
 All thefe petty forts of Theft were louk'd upon by 
 them as fmali Duties and Perquilites belonging to 
 their Places, for which they did not think themielves 
 oblig'd to their Matter, but took them as their Dues, 
 and thought them as much fo as their Wages. What 
 they prey'd moft upon, was the Proviiions that were 
 brought into the Kitchin, of which the greateft pare 
 was itill milling, without any Bodies caring to give 
 an Account of it. Thefe were generally whole 
 I "ins of Veal, good handfome Slices ot Bacon, 
 entire Hams, Ox-Tongues, Boars-Heads, Venifon- 
 Paily, Salt-bits, and a thoufand other fuch-like Dain- 
 ties, which difappeard in a Moment after they came 
 once to be feen. As for the Poulterer and Paitry- 
 Cook's Provender, that was generally fecur'd by my 
 Mailer, who never faifd to fet by enough for him- 
 felf and his Friends. Many other Thefts of greater 
 Confequcncc I law every Day committed upon our 
 poor Lord, but I durft not ipeak for fear of being 
 us'd fcurvüy, and therefore contented mv felf with 
 obferving them, without being concern'd in the Be- 
 nefit of them. 
 
 By thefe Means, fuch-like great Lords as ours foon 
 luce a potent and flourifning Houfe to an Hofpi- 
 tal, and 'tis this makes them mortgage their Lands, 
 and fell their VaiTals. Miferablc Heads of a Family i 
 who not caring to give themielves the Trouble to look 
 into their Domeftick Concerns, fuirer themielves to 
 be devour'd alive by thefe Caterpillars, thefe Harpies. 
 They muft needs be all fenfible, that the fewer there 
 are of thefe Blood-fuckers in a Houfe, the better it is 
 for the Houfe ; yet there's never a one of them but 
 will have more of thefe Vermin than he has occaiion 
 
 for, 
 
288 The Life and A Atom Part L 
 
 for, mccrly thro' Vanity to appear greater than he is. 
 This is the Fault of almoft all Conditions, even from 
 the higheft to the loweft, for there's hardly ever a 
 Porter but thinks himfelf as good as a Tradcfman ; 
 the Tradefman v/ill compare with the Merchant, the 
 Merchant rivals the Gentleman ; and the Gentleman 
 thinks himfelf equal with Counts, MarquhTes, Dukes 
 and Princes, and thefe laft, many times, hold up 
 their Heads equal with Kings ; and all this but to 
 make the greater Noife, and pretend to a Degree 
 that is not due to them. Neverthelefs, if we con- 
 fider a little, this fame exalted Condition of a King 
 is notfo deniable as we may imagine; for what King 
 is there, whole Sleep or Diverlions can be compar'd 
 with thofe.of a Porter. The bufy Tradefman enjoys 
 more Quiet, and the Adventurous Merchant runs 
 not half the Rifque. A King finds more Snares and 
 Cares in a Crowji, than a Merchant does in all his 
 Voyages. A King fure may be allow'd to have 
 greater Trouble in giving out his Orders to an Army, 
 than a Gentleman can in giving out his to his Equi- 
 page. A Man of Quality may be engag'd in Debts, 
 but a King muft be inevitably fo, if his Subjects 
 don't timely fupply him. In a Word, there is no 
 Prince, whether a Subject or not, but has more 
 Cares upon him than he that make» Court to him. 
 He mult watch while others fleep. For this Reafon 
 che Egyptians, when they had a mind to reprefent a 
 King, painted a Scepter with an Eye at the Top of 
 it. He muft, like a good Pilot, work at the Helm 
 while others reft themfelves. He fighs and mourns, 
 while others laugh and are merry. He's never fee- 
 lov'd but out of a private Intereft, whereas he ought 
 to be belov'd, fear'd and honour'd on a publick Ac- 
 count. He rarely or never is told the Truth, for 
 fear it ihould dilpleafe him. He's yet more rarely 
 undeceiv'd, and he knows well for what Reafon. 
 
 But 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 28^ 
 
 But not to proceed any further on fo nice and deli- 
 cate a Subjecf as this, which might occafion me a 
 great many more Reflexions, I will return to fpeak 
 of the Vanity of moil Men of Quality and Great 
 Lords, who not caring to retrench the Number of 
 their Domefticks, or abridge the Expences of their 
 Family, fall at laft to decay, and are obliged to re- 
 tire into the Country to lave Charges. There they 
 bufy themfelves at lome Country Village or Houle 
 of theirs, in rearing of Poultry, fatting their Cattle> 
 or fowing their Grounds, for now, God knows, they 
 would make but a pitiful Figure at Court, and there- 
 fore they do wifely to avoid it. They now begin to 
 know what it is to live, but, alafs! too late. If Rich 
 Men had but more Conduce, they would never be 
 Poor; and if Poor knew better how to manage them- 
 felves, they would loon be Rich. Both need only 
 obferve Times and Seafons, and be acquainted with 
 the Extent of their Capacities. It does not always 
 become a Rich Man to lpare, no more than it does 
 a Poor Man to fpend. There's Rules for all Things, 
 One need only obferve them. He that goes beyond 
 them, furely repents of it. Money, 'tis true, is given a 
 Man to make ufe of; but then he ought to know how 
 to do fo, and not to fool it away on all Occaiions. 
 If a Lord thinks fit to live generoufly, his VaiTal 
 muft not think to do fo too : That does not belong 
 to him. He'l foon come to the Ground if he does. 
 One has 20000 Francs a Year, and the other, it may 
 be, but 20. The Difference is great, and the Am- 
 bition ought to be luitably proportiond. You are 
 but a Crow, and can only croak, and yet you will 
 put your felf in Competition with the fineit binging- 
 Biids. What Folly, nay what Madneis, 15 "this i 
 When you have a good Piece of Cheefe in your 
 Beak, will you fet up a ringing to pleafe a Flatterer 
 below that commends your fine Voice ? 
 
 V We 
 
2£o The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 We ought to deep with one Foot in the Air as the 
 Crane does, when our Wealth is concern'd. If we 
 have wherewithal to fpend, we care not to be robb'd 
 of it. A Caterer, a Cook, and a Clerk of the 
 Kitchin, are three Thieves that a great Man ought to 
 rid his Houfe of as foonas he can, if he has not a mind 
 to be eat up by them. It is a Folly next to Madnefs 
 to endure them. 
 
 It is oftentimes the Mailer's Fault that the Servants 
 are Rogues. They give them but fmall Wages, and 
 pay them often indifferently. They take miferable 
 Wretches into their Service, whofe Neceffity obliges 
 them to accept what they can get. When they are 
 once receiv'd, they foon find a. Way to encreafe their 
 Stipends at their Mailer's Expence. So, Gentlemen, 
 if you are cheated, you may ev'n thank your felves 
 for't. You play off a hundred Pifióles a Night, and 
 fometimes, it may be, a whole Years Income, yet 
 take no Care to pay your Servants, nor afford them 
 the leaft Gratification. This, truly, is a fine Way 
 to be ferv'd well. Juit Payments, and good Rewards 
 from a Mailer, always make good and faithful Ser- 
 vants. What ! fays one to me, is it not enough if 
 I give my Servant large Wages, and pay him well to 
 boot. Ño, it is not enough • for if you give him 
 but what you owe him, what Obligation has he to 
 you ? You ihould, by your Civilities, oblige him to 
 do for you even more than he ought, and to ferve 
 you more thro' Affe&ion than Duty. You don't fee 
 Servants are over-haily to ferve him that keeps his 
 Purfe too clofe from them. A certain Gentleman 
 tolerably rich, but not over-brave, had a Quarrel 
 with a Neighbour of his about a Hunting-Match. 
 This Neighbour did not underiland Railery, but 
 fought well* The Gentleman, not caring to iland the 
 Tryal himfelf, got a lufty young Fellow, a Soldier, 
 to go about with him, whom he promised ib much a 
 Month, and which he paid duly. The Neighbour 
 
 meeting; 
 
Book IL of Guzman d*AIfarache, 29 1 
 
 meeting him, drew upon him, but he car'd not to 
 difpute the Matter himfelf, and fo left it to his Back> 
 who manag'd his Sword fo well, that he difarm'd his 
 Ádverfary. He had only the Misfortune to lofe his 
 Hat and Scabar'd in the Scuffle, and that was all 
 the Harm he receiv'd • but he hop'd his Matter the 
 Gentleman, who had retreated lb nimbly that he 
 was by this time got Home, would make him con- 
 iiderable Amends. By no means he thought he was 
 fufficiently recompenc'd by the Penfion he gave him. 
 This fneaking Proceeding furpris'd him, but he faid 
 nothing, and continu'd to wait on him as before. 
 The Neighbour, extreamly vex'd that he had been 
 difarm'd, and that his true Man, with whom' only he 
 had the Quarrel, had refus'd to fight him, putting 
 another in his ftead, fought all Occafions to meet him 
 again, but it was only with a good Cudgel. Ths 
 Gentleman's Misfortune would have it that this De- 
 iign fucceeded; but he might traverfe as much Ground 
 as he pleafed, and take a direct Flight if he thought 
 fit, for his Adverfary had as good Heels as he, and a 
 much better Heart. He laid him on fo unmercifully 
 that he left him for dead, and all this in the Sight of 
 his Back, who mov'd not a Step to help him. With- 
 out his Protection he had not ventur'd abroad, and 
 therefore he was much furpris'd to fee him ftand fo 
 infeniibly. When he came home, and had had his 
 Wounds and Bruifes drefs'd, he call'd for his Champion, 
 whom he reproach'd with his Cowardice and Ill-will, 
 telling him, he thought one that had eat his Bread, 
 and drank his Drink, might have been more honour- 
 able to him^The Soldier having heard him out, 
 replied, Sir, you hir'd me to wait upon you, and 
 I have done it. I was oblig'd to no more. If I had 
 drawn my Sword in your Defence, as I did the other 
 Day, and had loft another Hat and Scabard, it might 
 have coil me more than a Month's Wages. You know I 
 cannot afford that, and as lam paid, fo I íhaíl always 
 ferve. V i h 
 
2^2 716e Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 If You have a mind, Gentlemen and great Lords, 
 to be well ferv'd, and have your Domefticks love 
 you, ihew likewife fome Kindnefs to them. A fmall 
 ,Matter will fuffice. Let but your Major-Domo diftri- 
 bute i o Tifióles among them, and they will be better 
 iatisfied than your Jilt of a Miftrefs was with the fine 
 Coach you prefented her lately, and which fhe did 
 but laugh at you for. 
 
 CHAP. VL 
 
 Guzman goes 0», and tells what pafsd further be- 
 tween him and his Mafler, till he was difmifs'd 
 his Service. He takes an Qccajion to condemn 
 Idlenefs and ill Company. He recounts the Spoils 
 and Trophies of Cooks, and relates apleafant P of- 
 fice between him and his Mifirefs. 
 
 IT was then the general Diforder of this Houfe, 
 and the bad Example of the Servants, that made 
 me a Thief, and Gaming gave the firit Occafion. 
 I was every Day with Wolves, and how could I e- 
 fcape learning to howl. I had natural Inclination 
 enough to Roguery I muft needs confefs, but then 
 'twas Practice I wanted, and that I had enough of 
 here. Idlenefs contributed much towards it. He 
 that can employ himfelf well, need never fear being 
 drawn into this Snare, whereas the ilothful Perfon is 
 ever in danger of it. I did not looJ^into my own 
 Breaft, but confulted the Actions oWther People. 
 I thought I might be allow'd to do as they did, with- 
 out confidering it became them better, and that they 
 ierv "d their Lords with no other End. But at length 
 I found T was miftaJcen, and had taken the Matter 
 wrong, for that fuch Permiflions were granted only 
 
 to 
 - 1 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 2^3 
 
 to Favourites, and fuch as had Credit with their 
 Lords, to neceffary Perfons, and fleek well-look'd 
 Fellows, to Flatterers and Pimps, true Crocodiles 
 and Scorpions ; and, laftly, to thofe fly infinuating 
 Rafeáis, who know how to tickle the Ear, and poi- 
 fon the Soul. Thefe People had a kind of Right to 
 enrich themfelves at their Lord's Ex pence ; but for 
 fuch poor Dogs as I, iiich a contemptible Scullion- 
 Boy, I was not admitted to fo great Villany, but 
 having been frap'd in my Rogueries once or twice, 
 for as I told you I was continually watch'd, I had due 
 Correction given me with a good Cudgel. 
 
 About this Time my Mafter was fent for to drefs 
 a great Dinner for a Foreign Prince that was newly 
 arriv'd at Court. He carried me along with him, 
 and we were no fooner come into the Kitchin but we 
 •employ'd our felves in rending, tearing, breaking, 
 dividing, and fetting afide what we thought for our 
 Purpofe, and our Due, and this before any Body eliè 
 came, for there were other Cooks to be employ'd 
 under my Mafter, who might^erhaps, have preten- 
 ded to fome of the Profits, had they been prefent, 
 but we thought good to prevent them by thefe 
 Means. My Mafter had the Direction of all, and he 
 believ'd nothing more reafonable, than that Cafar 
 íliould have what was C#fpr\ and the Cook what 
 was the Cook's. As for the Underlings, they might 
 ihift as well as they could, he did not think himfelf 
 oblig'd to take Care of them. When Night came, 
 he lent me home for a large Sack, for the Dinner 
 was not to be till next Day ; and having brought it, 
 we crowded into it all that we judged proper, and fo 
 he fent me away privately with it, but the Burden 
 Was fo great, I did not fweat a little under it. , I re- 
 turn'd, and he had prepar'd to fill my Sack again, 
 but I could not carry it away till I had Opportunity, 
 for now all the other Cooks were come, and we had 
 but too many Eyes upon us to fufFer us to do it pri 
 
 V 3 vately, 
 
¿P4 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 vately, which was neverthelefs neceiTary to be done. 
 We therefore referr'd it to a convenient Seafon, and 
 in the mean time he employ'd me in pulling of 
 Fowls, gutting them, larding them, fingeing them, 
 and the like Exercifes of the Kitchin. Having many 
 Hands, we ibon difpatch'd that, and all the reft of 
 the preparatory Work, and fo my Mailer thought he 
 might now take an Occafion to fend me away. He 
 difmifs'd me, telling me he was very lorry he could 
 not go along with me, and this, you muir, know, be- 
 came of his Wife, whom I have already told you he 
 was jealous of. He appear 'd very uneafy, but bear it 
 he muit, and fo he was fain. He bid me be fure to 
 take Care of the Houfe, and fee that nothing was 
 purloin'd, for being fo great a Thief himfelf, he ap- 
 prehended every Body elfe. He bid me likewife tell 
 his Wife he knew not when he iliould come home, 
 but therein he lied, for he knew well enough he 
 could not come till next Day after Dinner ; but this 
 he did to blind her, that ihe might not know the cer- 
 tainty of his coming,£nd, consequently, not dare to 
 call in a Neighbour to make good her Husbands In- 
 fufficiencies, as Cooks, as well as others, have fome- 
 times been ferv'd. I promis' d to obey all his Com- 
 mands, when following me to the Door, as if he 
 had fomething more to fay to me, he took out of 
 a Coach the Sack he had hid there for that purpoie, 
 and putting it on my Head, fbnt me away. I no 
 fooner got home, but after having made my Mailer's 
 Compliments to my Miilrefs, which, however, were 
 but like flale Hih to her, I began to ihoot out what 
 \ had in my Sack, when appear'd Capons, Partridges; 
 Pheafants, 'Pullets, Pigeons, Pieces of Venifon, Quar- 
 ters of Lamb, Tongues, Hams, and, in a Word, as 
 great Variety, almoft, as was found in Noah's Ark. 
 This, with the other Sack I brought before, which had 
 no lefs Variety, was, methought, the moil charming 
 Sight I ever favv in my Life, and the belt diverfified. 
 
 Here 
 

 Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 29 5 
 
 Here were Colours of all Sorts, and Creatures and 
 Things of all Forms and Sizes. When I had thus exe- 
 cuted my Commiffion, I went to Bed, and 'twas time 
 you'd fay I íhould, íínce I had wrought hard all that 
 Day, and fwingingly tir'd my felf. My Miilrefs was for 
 going to Bed too, for tho' ihe had not work'd fo hard 
 as L ilie had drank harder, and therefore 'twas but 
 reafonable fhe fhould have fome Repofe. My Lodg- 
 ing was in a Garret over the Gallery, againil which 
 the Sun darting fiercely, it became almoft as hot by 
 Night as by Day, fo that making ufe of a Priviledge 
 we have in Spain, of lying Naked when we pleafe, 
 I pull'd off my Shirt and fell a-fleep heartily. About 
 an Hour or two after, I was all of a fudden wak'd 
 by a Confort of Cats, who made as terrible a Din in 
 the Gallery below, as if there had been a thoufand 
 Devils there. Thefe Cats you know are a fort of 
 Animals that have no Regard to their Mailer's Good, 
 and who growl continually, efpecially while they 
 are eating, therefore a Man can t tell when they are 
 fatisfied. I laid therefore to my felf, it would be 
 the Devil if thefe Gentlemen, who are naturally fo 
 malicious, fhould fall upon our Provender • they 
 would certainly make mad Work there, and I mould 
 not care that my Bones mould pay for their Impu- 
 dence • it were belt then for me to fee a clear rid- 
 dance of them. What we have got, is unqueitiona- 
 bly our own, becaufe we have brought it home. My 
 Mailer prog'd for't, and I bore the Burden of it, 
 which is certainly Title enough. There's no further 
 Doubt to be made of it. Without any more Argu- 
 ments, I ought to go and fee what's the Matter. 
 Hereupon jumping out of Bed, and not (laying to 
 put on my Shirt that I might not lofe Time, being 
 appreheniive of meeting no Body at that time of 
 Night, I Hole foftly down the Ladder, thinking to 
 fiirprife thofe Rioters. When I was got to the bottom, 
 I was Itartled to find a broad itreak of Light before 
 
 V 4 me. 
 
ítp¿ The Ufe and Anions Part L 
 
 me, not having heard the leaft Noife, when looking 
 about; I faw a Figure all naked like my felf with a 
 Lamp in its Hand, and fo black, that I took it to 
 be the Devil. It was, in truth, my Miftrefs, who 
 having been wak'd by the Cats, as I had been, was 
 coming to fecure the Belly-Timber ; and being more 
 heated than I was with the Wine fhe drank over- 
 night, had thrown off her Smock, and not taken 
 Care to hide her Nakednefs thro' the fame Confide- 
 ration as I had, believing me to be foundly a-ileep. 
 She perceivd me as foon as I did her ; and whereas 
 I took her for a Devil, fhe took me for a Sprighe. 
 We both began to fquawl at the fame time. She 
 ran into her Chamber, and I towards the Gal^ 
 îery, being like to break my Neck by the way. She 
 hearing me fall, guefs'd it was I, and that I had rifen 
 for the fame Reafon me did, and ihe was much in the 
 Right of it. The curfed Cats difappear'd at the 
 Noife we made ; and I being curious to know what 
 had been the occafion of our Difafter, went to fee. 
 Ï found a larded Hare with nothing but the Bones 
 left, fo greedy thefe Animals had been, who are 
 never more out of Humour than when they are eat- 
 ing. I put Things in the beft Order Í could, and fo 
 return' d to Bed. But to fleep it was impoffible, for, 
 over and above that my Bruifes gave me a great deal 
 of Pain, my naked Miftrefs ran fo much in my 
 Mind, I could net clofe my Eyes. The Sight of à 
 naked Woman's the Devil. But this wa? not all, for 
 having Orders from my Mailer to return to him as 
 foon as it was Light, Five a Clock had no fooner ftruck, ■ 
 but I was fain to get up and drefs me for that purpofe. 
 Before I went, I thought proper to take a Turn in the 
 Gallery, to fee if there were^o more Mifchief done: 
 tut what a Stink did I meet with there ! what did Í 
 fee! I dare not defcribe it. Fear had it feems a ter- 
 rible £ffetT: on my poor Miftrefs, for all the way I 
 Vvent there, was a íiinking Train of Gun-Powder laid^ 
 
 even 
 
tfot.I 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache.' 257 
 
 even to her Chamber Door. I would not take the 
 Pains to clean it, and as ihe had dropt it, I thought 
 it was Htteft for her to remove it. I left Matters as 
 I found them, and fo hailed away to my Matter. 
 He enquir'd immediately how his Wife and Family 
 did, and 1 gave him a fatisfaclory Account, but 
 did not fay a Word of the Adventure of the Cats, or 
 that of his Wife. That was too nice a Point to touch 
 upon. He fet me to Work, and I labour'd hard with 
 the reft, who had been up all Night. Every Body 
 was in A¿lion, and as this, like all other Noblemen's, 
 was a very diforder'd Houfe, every thing went to 
 wreck, and there was great Spoil made of all Things. 
 We need only fpeak to have any Thing, and fcarce a 
 Third of what we got was made ufe of. What re- 
 main'd, was fecur'd another way. We demanded Su- 
 gar for Tarts, and Tarts for Sugar, and every thing 
 twice or thrice over, varying only in the manner of 
 asking. We call'd thefe Jubilee Fea its, becaufe then 
 the Rivers over-flow'd, and Fifh fwam in the large 
 Water. For my part, I waited to give a Stroke, 
 which I believ'd I might do, after the great Dog's 
 had their Bellies full, for I would not have it thought 
 but my Talons were as (harp as theirs. Neverthelefs, 
 for Paftime, I, like a Fôol as I was, div'd my Hand 
 into a Pannier of Eggs, which I lov'd very well, and 
 put half a Dozen of them into my Pocket. My Matter 
 law me ; and as there was then feveral of the Houfe- 
 Servants in the Kitchin, he, to gain Reputation at 
 my Expence, ran to me, and, like a Brute as he was, 
 gave me filch a Kick, that he threw me on the Floor 
 on that fide where I had the Eggs. Judge you what 
 an Omelet this mutt needs make. The Eggs ran down 
 my Thighs and Legs in fuch manner," as fet all the 
 Company a laughing. You may imagine what a 
 Confufion and Rage I was in againft my Matter. 
 He added Reproaches to his Injuries, and told me, 
 he would teach me to ileal in fuch a great Lord's 
 
 Houfe 
 
•^98 The Life and ASlions Part I. 
 
 Houfe as that was. No Body indeed could teach me 
 better, and I was about to tell him, I thought thofe 
 Eggs belongd to the Fowls he had orderd me to 
 carry home to his Houfe ; but I coniider'd of the 
 Matter, and believ'd it better to hold my Peace, 
 iince I had drawn that Storm upon my felf by my 
 Indifcretion. I neverthelefs, to make my felf Amends, 
 thruit into my Breeches unobferv'd, a brace of Par- 
 tridges, four Quails, half a roafled Pheafant, and 
 fome Veal Sweet-breáds , not being willing to 
 have it faid, I had been at Court and not icen the 
 King. 
 
 AU this Confufion of a Feaft being over, my Mailer 
 and I return d home, he pretending ftill to be angry 
 with me, and I being really fo witla him. We both 
 however held our Peace, till at length he being a- 
 fraid, leaft I mould go in a Humour and difcover all, 
 faid to me, Foolifh Boy that thou weit, where was 
 thy Wit when thou went'il about to difgrace me and 
 thy felf for half a dozen Eggs, which thou took'it 
 before fo many People ? Is it that thou wantedft 
 Eggs in our Houfe, or that, in a Kitchin fo well pro- 
 vided as that Lord's was, there was nothing better to 
 take ? Hail thou liv'd with me thus long to be fo great 
 an Oaf ? I would have excus'd my felf, but he would 
 not hear me ; when going on with his Diicourfe, he 
 faid, I acknowledge I was in the wrong to kick thee, 
 but as Matters flood I could not well avoid it ; however, 
 to make thee Amends, I will buy thee a pair of Shoes 
 to morrow, and make thee a Prefent of them. I 
 was glad to hear that, for I had more than ordinary 
 occaiion for Shoes at that time, but I never faw 
 them, and I fuppofe my Miilrefs hundred my having 
 them, either becaufe fhe was angry that I had feeft 
 Jier naked, tho' Women are not commonly offended 
 at fuch Matters, or elfe that ihe fear'd I might reveal 
 our Adventure, which might turn to her Prejudice ; 
 for we were no fooner come home, but my Mailer 
 
 having 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'AlfaracheJ 29? 
 
 having had half an Hours Difcourfe with her in pri- 
 vate, from the belt humour'd Man that could be be- 
 fore, he all of a fudden became the moil incens'd 
 againft me, which I could plainly perceive by his 
 Countenance. He neverthelefs faid nothing to me 
 that Night, but went to Bed betimes, which he had 
 more than ordinary occafion for, having not flept the 
 Night before. For my part, I fought all Oppor- 
 tunities to fpeak to my Miilrefs, to know what had 
 occalion'd my Mailer's Difpleafurc ; but fhe avoided 
 me, and I could never bring my Ends about. As 
 I underitood from a Neighbour, to whom fhe had 
 opend her Breail, her Ill-will to me was not on ac- 
 count of my feeing her Naked, but becaufe I had 
 feen what fell from her in that Fright, and fhe there- 
 fore was afhanfd to look me in the Face. Let it be 
 what it would I went to Bed too, not over-folicitous 
 what had been the occafion cither of her Difplealiire 
 or his. Betimes next Morning, being delirous to 
 raife a little Money, I went into the Kitchin to pre- 
 pare Matters for that purpofe ; and as there was fome 
 Palle left that remain d of the Pallies and Tarts that 
 had been made the Day before, I fet to work, and 
 made an excellent Pally of it with fuch cold Meat 
 and Scraps as I had hid. About Night, when I had 
 nothing almoil to do, I went to the Market to fell 
 that and the Partridges and Quails I had fecur'd the 
 Day before. As I thought my Mailer would be en- 
 quiring after me, becaufe I knew he would feek all 
 occafions to quarrel with me, I made what haft 1 
 could to get a Chapman, and, as good Luck would 
 have it, I foon found one. It was a hoary old Fellow 
 with Spectacles. The Agreement was foon made, 
 and if he had a mind to buy, I had no left to fell. 
 We agreed then for 4 Francs, which, tho' not above 
 half what my Merchandize was worth, I ihould have 
 been happy if 1 could have got my Money fo fpeedi- 
 ly as was neceifary, for I had to do with the greateft 
 
 Dotard, 
 
3oo The Life and ARiom Parti. 
 
 Dotard, the greateft Trifler, the greateft Pun<5Hlio- 
 Man, the greateft Impertinent, and the moil Ridi- 
 culous Creature in the World, and it mads me when- 
 ever I think of him ; for I had no fooner deliver'd 
 my Goods, but he muft put his Reportory or Pocket- 
 Book under his Arm, hang his greafy Gloves and 
 fnotty Handkerchief at his Girdle, pull out hisSpe&a- 
 cles, which he muft clean to look on the Money, 
 open and íhut his Purfe twenty times to make it go 
 eafy, handle his Chaplet and his Buttons that he 
 pretended incommoded him, and the like intolera- 
 ble Delays, which were enough to make fuch a 
 young Fellow as I fweat, who were apprehenfive of 
 my Mailer's furprifing me every Moment. At length, 
 as I fear'd, he came before this old fumbling Cur 
 would difpatch me : Ha, Spark, cry's he ! What are 
 you receiving this Money for ? What fine Bargain 
 are you driving here ? I turn'd as pale as Death. I 
 had not the Courage to anfwer him. And if. I had 
 had any, what could I have faid when this old 
 Dreamer was ftill by. There was no Evafion could 
 ferve my Turn, for the Partridges, Quails and Pafty, 
 ípoke fufnciently to my Prejudice. I therefore faid 
 not a Word, but let him take my Money, and thought 
 Ï mould be happy if I could efcape fo. He however 
 told me, I muft not pretend to fetaFoot more within 
 his Doors, and that, if I dar'd but to pafs by his 
 Lodging for the future, he would give me fuch a 
 Welcome, as ihould make me wifh my felf further off,- 
 «indfo giving me a good Kick in the A — , he cried, Go 
 and take notice that is the laft Favour you fhall re- 
 ceive from me ; which faid, he left me. All this was 
 done in the Prefence of that curfed old Dog, whom 
 God confound, from whom, when he leaft minded 
 me, I fnatch'd the Partridges, Quails and Pafty, tel- 
 ling him, as I ran away, he might go for his Money 
 to him that had got it, for as for my Goods I would 
 have them again. Seeing it to no Purpoie to follow 
 
 me_, 
 
 i 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache." 301 
 
 me, he began tô walk as fail as he could (for run 
 he could not) after the Cook, who did not go fo fa ft, 
 but he overtook him as I perceiv'd; but how the 
 Matter ended , or whether he got any Satisfaction 
 from him or not,I cannot tell.I was not fo mad as to 
 Hay to iee, for fear my JViwjJam Mailer might come 
 and demand his Goods again, and then I had been 
 in a fine Cafe; for having no Money, and being juft 
 turn'd out of Doors, I had more than ordinary occa- 
 fion for them to procure me a Lodging, which I did 
 not doubt they would do, and fomething to boot* 
 for I had been in fuch hafte, that I had fold them 
 too great a Penniworth to this old Rafcal. 
 
 CHAR VII. 
 
 Guzman takes vp the Basket again, and makes ma- 
 ny ufefnl moral Reflections on Mankind. At 
 lafl, by means of a Theft, he got a great deal of 
 Money, and left Madrid. 
 
 IN whatfoever Condition a Man is, it is ftill better 
 to be Wife than Rich; for tho' Fortune ihould 
 turn TailjKnowledge can never forfake him. Wealth 
 may decreafe every Day, but Underftanding will ra- 
 ther be augmented than leifen'd. That Little a wife 
 Man knows,is worth more than all a rich Man enjoys. 
 There's no body but is fenfible what Advantage Wif- 
 dom has of Fortune , altho' they both tend to the 
 fame End, that is, to make Men Illuftrious and Ho- 
 nourable. The Philofophers have given us different 
 Portraits of Fortune, becaufe fhe is ever variable in 
 her lelfj according as ilie is Iook'd upon. Every one 
 paints her as he finds her in refped to himfelf, or has 
 confi'ler'd her in regard to other People. If fhe be 
 
 good, 
 
302 The Ufe and Anions tart I. 
 
 good, {he is the Miftrefs of all Virtues ; if bad, the 
 Mother of all Vice. He that fhe favours moft , is 
 generally one that takes the leaft Care ta preferve 
 her. She is as frail as Glafs, and both inconftant and 
 feftlefs, like a Spherical Body on a plain Superficies. 
 What fhe gives to Day, fhe takes away to Morrow. 
 She is a Flux and Reflux, which at laft Shipwrecks 
 us on the Shore of Death, whence we have no poilt- 
 bility to return. As long as we live ihe makes Co- 
 medians of us, who have every -Day a new Part to 
 iludy, and muft appear in a different Form. The 
 leaft Event difmounts, and makes her vaniili. Phi- 
 lofophy alone can deal with her , and bring that 
 to rights which fhe has put into diforder. This fame 
 Philofophy is a very rich Mine ; happy is he that 
 can make a Difcovery of it. He may get thence a 
 great deal of Treafure without fear of exhaufting 
 it. She Encourages one in good Fortune, and Com- 
 forts one in bad. She is Silver to a poor Man, Gold 
 to a rich, and to a great Ford a precious and inefti- 
 mable Jewel. In the moft affli&ing Accidents and 
 moft furprifing Events, ihe always fupports and goes 
 along with us ; whereas a Man without her is apt to 
 trip and ftumble in the plaineft Road. There's no 
 AfRi&ion upon Earth, Tempeft on the Sea, or Storm 
 in the Air, but what Philofophy can furmount. A 
 Man ought not to vvifli to live, but to grow wife; nor 
 grow wife, but to live well. What a Philofopher en- 
 joys, is permanent, certain, and of continuance. But 
 whither away, Guzman, cry you, what makes you fo 
 full of Philofophy ? What do you mean,by beftowing 
 fo many fine Praifes on what we know better than 
 you ? Where will this learned Difcourfe end ? It will 
 end, Friend, reply I, in bringing me back to my 
 Rags that I had quitted for the Office of a Scullion- 
 Boy, and which I am now about to refume with 
 Content, which is all that the greatcft Philofopher 
 can do. 
 
 »% I was 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 303 
 
 I was well enough born, of-noble and honeft Pa- 
 rents as you know, and I could not eafily forget that, 
 therefore was refolv'd not to degenerate. It was ne- 
 ceffary I íhould ihew I refcmbled them in every 
 thing., and that I could, like them, refill the Difailers 
 of Fortune, and endure with Patience all the Af- 
 fronts and Injuries ilie was plcas'd to impofe upon 
 me. Herein I difcover'd Marks of a great Soul. The 
 Bad become worfe in Profperity, and the Good bet- 
 ter in Adverfity. When they can benefit themfelves 
 by it, it is to them like a Crucible where Gold is re- 
 fin d. Who could have ever thought, that, after ha- 
 ving fo well ferv'd this Cook as I did, I íhould have 
 been fo ill rewarded on fo trifling an Account. You'll 
 tell me, perhaps, fo the World goes ,• that this hap- 
 pens every Day to the honeíleíl People,who after ha- 
 ving ferv'd great Lords and Princes with the utmoil 
 Fidelity, are driven out of Doors, and all their Ser- 
 vices forgot according to the Caprice or Humour of 
 their -Mailer. Mine was a little exafberated againil 
 me, it may be, for ftealing the Eggs lb fooliihly. He 
 had heard of fome other Rogueries perhaps, and that 
 I play'd higher than I could well afford, but all that 
 was nothing. 'Twas his Wife's Nakednefs that iluck 
 in his Stomach ; he could not digeft that, but look'd 
 upon it as my Fault, and thought himfelf half diiho- 
 nour'd by my feeing her in that Condition. This 
 made him to wait only for a proper Occafion to get 
 rid of me ; his Wife having told him, that, after ic» 
 ihameful an Adventure, fhe could not have the Im- 
 pudence to look me in the Face. But all this fhe 
 did to ihew her Modeily at my Expence, and make 
 her Husband have a better Opinion of her than per- 
 haps i he cle ferv'd. 
 
 But I am turnd out into the Street, and kick'd in- 
 to the Bargain. What ihall I do, whither ihall I go, 
 or what will become of me ? I left my Mailer with 
 the fine Reputation of a Rogue, and who will take 
 
 ms 
 
304 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 me in with that Chara&er. My only Hope was in 
 my Basket,which to me was as great a Talent as Elo- 
 quence to Demofthenes, or Stratagems to Ulyjjes. I was 
 not forry I had try'd that fart of Life, and Experi- 
 ence is a great Comfort to one. What a Man fuffers 
 with his good Will, affifts him wonderfully when he 
 comes to be oblig'd to undergo the fame Trouble. 
 There's no living in this World without Troubles. 
 The Life of Man is interlarded with them. . Nothing 
 is more advantagious than to learn betimes how to 
 digeft them. There are none fo Thorny, but they 
 may be handled without Pricking. A Man muft ne- 
 verthelefs be skilful to know where to fix upon them. 
 I liv'd fo well with this fame Cook, that when I 
 came to tafte a Reverfe of Fortune, I mould have 
 been ftark Mad if I had not before experience it. I 
 fhould have been like a Frelh- water Seaman in a 
 Storm. But well fare the Market-Basket I fay, that 
 was my Refuge. I came to that Employment again 
 much in the fame Condition I had left it, that is, not 
 worth a Crofs, for you may imagine I had not laid 
 out what I had got in Lands or Tenements. I was 
 better cloath'd indeed, but that was not "extraordi- 
 nary neither. All went as it came, that is, Lightly, 
 according to the Proverb. Whatever I became Ma- 
 iler of, Gaming foon rid my Hands of; but this Ad- 
 vantage, however, I had by lofing my Money, that 
 I at the fame time loft likewife the little Modefty I 
 had left. That Virtue does by no means fuit with 
 poor Folks ; the lefs they have of it, the lefs fenfible 
 they are of their Misfortunes, and that's fo much the 
 better for them. 
 
 I was well known to moft that frequented the 
 Markets, and had Money fufficient to bùy a Basket, 
 and that was enough. Neverthelefs, to take away 
 all Reproach, and prevent Peoples attributing my 
 returning to my old Employment to any ill Dcñgn, 
 J refolv'd, before I engag'd in it, to go and oifer my 
 
 Service 
 
 * 
 
Book II. of Guzman d ? Alfarache. 305 
 
 Service to fome Cooks of my Mailer's Acquaintance, 
 who knew well what i'were capable of, intending, 
 if they receiv'd me, to render my felt thorcu; 
 knowing in Kitchin-Affairs, for I had already made 
 a tolerable Beginning. I was every where well re- 
 ceiv'd, tho' every Body knew my HHtory, but then 
 it was only for 24 Hours, for all their pretended 
 Kindnefs for me was mceriy to get out of me what 
 had pafs'd in our Family, and how many Rogueries 
 I had feen my Mafter commit. This is what dis- 
 contented Servants are commonly valued for for a 
 while; but they feeing me unwilling to tell any thing 
 but what was to my Mailer's Advantage, foon grew 
 weary of me, and in few Days cafhicr'd me. A 
 thorough-pa c'd Rogue now would have been able 
 to have liv'd with them two or three Months upon 
 fuch Stories as I was able to tell, but, for my part, I 
 could hardly hold out ; Days. 
 
 Having thus done my Duty as I imagin'd, I thought 
 of nothing further, but taking up the Basket again. 
 I had ever been delircus of doing fomething, and 
 hated Idlenefs from my Heart. I was Satisfied, a Man 
 was fo much the more a Man, as he knew how to 
 employ himfelf lawfully. If I had known better, 
 I had done better. I can't imagine how, defiring to 
 be good as we all do, we fhould find fo much Diffi- 
 culty in coming to it ; and tho' we every Day pro- 
 pofe to our felves to labour at it, we don't accom- 
 plifh it in many Years, nay fometimes during our 
 whole lives. I fancy we don't wifh our felves over- 
 well, or elfe lull our felves to flcep, becaufe the 
 Thought of Futurity has not that EfFecl: upon us as 
 might reafonably be expected from good Chriftians, 
 who have a mina not to be furpris'd by Death. 
 
 I refunVd my former Calling, be pinning to carry 
 Burdens, and do Service to the Publick as I did be- 
 fore, by which I got a tolerable Livelihood, I did 
 not, 'tis true^ fare fo well as I had dono with the 
 
 X Cook, 
 
'%o6 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Cook, but no matter for that, I was contented. As 
 I did not depend on any Body, I had no Body to 
 give an Account to of my Adions. I eat and drank 
 when I pleas'd, and that was Pleafure enough. I 
 knew how to be Sober, and was hardly ever Drunk ; 
 fo much fome of my Friends ExceiTes appear'd beaft- 
 ly and ridiculous to me. The very Sight of them in 
 that Condition would have made me Temperate, had I 
 been naturally inclin'd to be otherwife. If Drunken- 
 nefs be unfeemly, and of bad Example to Servants 
 and ordinary Perfons, what muff, it be to thofe of 
 Worth and fome Station in the World! What a fine 
 thing 'tis to fee People drink other Folks Healths till 
 they burn themfelves. If you have a mind to have 
 this fine Sight, you need only go into fome. Tavern 
 Kitchin, where you fhall find ç or 6 of thefe Fellows 
 making the Debauch, as they call it, and who, tho' 
 ^they afliime the Character of Honeft Fellows, fhall 
 utter a Million of Impertinencies and Slanders, and 
 fometimes downright Blafphemies and Execrations, 
 fuch as the very Madmen in Bedlam would hardly be 
 guilty of. Then you fhall fee them do fuch Extra- 
 vancies, as the leaft Scrupulous among them would 
 be aiham'd of, and condemn, were he but fober. 
 Now they come out of the Tavern, where they have . 
 been all Night, but what Figures do they make ? What 
 Phyz's have they ? What fiery or fodden Counte- 
 nances, and how they reel or ftagger ? They tack 
 about inceifantly as Ships fometimes do, and run all 
 the Points of the Comfafs before they reach a Street's 
 length. The Boys hoot at and run after them, as 
 they do after Befs-a-Bedlaws. Now how can an ho- 
 neft Man fhew his Face after fuch Vagaries as thefe ? 
 And how dares he drink after he has fo much expos'd 
 himfelf ? Let Rogues and Bullies follow this Trade ; 
 nothing can be too mean for them ; it fuits well with 
 their Condition, they are the very Sinks and Com- 
 mon-Shores of Mankind ; but for Men of Flonour, 
 
 Repu- 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 30 7 
 
 Reputation and Quality to do fo, I am aíham'd of 
 it. They íhould, methinks, be more careful of their 
 Characters, and not thus debafe themfelves to the 
 very Mob. Should an Eccleiiaftick or Religious Per- 
 fon thus ftray from his Character, as there are but 
 too many that do, I have nothing to fay, let them 
 be their own Judges, I don't doubt but they repent 
 of it, and enjoin themfelves Penances when they 
 come to be fober. This is fuch a Vice, that it is a 
 Shame even to fpeak of it, Bafe to diiguife it, Infa- 
 my to pra&ife it,and very Unworthy of a Man not to 
 have it in the greateft Abhorence. 
 
 We Basket-Bearers had a Houfe in the Market, or 
 rather a Hovel, which we bought and repair'd at our 
 own Charges. We held there our greateft AiTern- 
 blies, and had Rejoicing-Bouts as often as there was 
 occafion. I always got up with the Sun, and went 
 to thofe Places where I thought there would be Em- 
 ployment for me. I was ever ready at Hand, and 
 tender'd my Service with a good Grace. I was faith- 
 ful and vigilant, and did not deep as I went along, 
 as fome are apt to do. Ely this means I came to have, 
 Reputation in my*Bufmefs, and had always more 
 uponmy Hands than I were able to do. This made m$ 
 take a Journey-Man, who aflîfted me, and for whofe 
 Fidelity I anlwer'd. I knew him, and having dons 
 him former KindneiTes, he look'd upon me as his 
 Matter, and waited upon me at Table. 
 
 About this time there were Commiiïions given ou£ 
 for new Levies. When any thing of that Nature 
 happens, the Town immediately rings with it, anci 
 a Council of State is held in almoft every Houie. 
 'Twas but juft, you 1 fay, ours ihould have one too, 
 and fo we had. We Beggars have as good a Title to 
 Speculations, Projects, and to difcourfe of Affairs of 
 State, as the beft -, and it ought not to be thought, be- 
 caufe our Employment is fo low,our Sentiments íhoulcj 
 be lefs juft, or our Penetration more diftant from th$ 
 
3o8 The Life and Aiïions Part I. 
 
 Truth. I'll tell you by the way, I knew a certain 
 Perfon who had as good Sence as any Body, and 
 yet had no better Correfpondent for the moil iecret 
 Affairs of State, than a certain Beggar with two 
 Wooden Legs, who never ilir'd off the Bridge where 
 he begg'd, but which was extreamly frequented. 
 Good Senfe is to be found in every Condition, and 
 Prejudice only confines it to the Great. It mult be 
 thought, forfooth, becaufe they are Great in Title, 
 they are fo in every Thing elfe; but this does not al- 
 ways prove true. They have great Palaces, great 
 Equipages, great Employments, but it does not fol- 
 low from thence that they have great Senfe. Na- 
 ture oftentimes makes us Amends, in refped to the 
 Mind, for what Fortune has denied us in refpeel 
 to the Body. I have heard fome of my Comrades 
 difcourfe, and, above all, the Galicia-Spark, whom 
 I have formerly fpoken of, as neatly, and as much to 
 the purpofe, as any of the greateft Minifters of State 
 of them all. We know all that paiTes moil impor- 
 tant, either at Court or in the City, becaufe we go 
 every where : We hear all0and fee all, without any 
 Bodies taking the leail notice of us» Good Senfe, and 
 good Underilanding, does not depend upon a good 
 Fortune. They are natural Gifts, which, when 
 well cultivated, do not fail to ihine, and even, where 
 they are unpolifh'd, have fome Luftre. 
 
 When we were met at Night in our AlTemblies, 
 each reported what he had feen or heard in the 
 bell Families that Day. Some, indeed, would talk 
 fooliihly of Affairs, but others would difcourfe fo 
 gravely and notably, that Standers-by were furpris'd 
 at their Solidity and good Senfe. The Taverns 
 and Inns did not furnifli us the leaft News, for as 
 Wine was fold there, which makes People talk, and 
 for the moil part, Truth, we learnt there moil of our 
 Affairs of State. 'Tis there that Armies are rais'd, 
 the common Enemy's Power ballanc'd, the State re- 
 
 form'd, 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 309 
 
 form'd, the Conduct of the Minifters canvaïs'd, and, 
 in a Wordj 'tis there where every thing is laid, and 
 every thing done. 
 
 We judg'd then, from what we had learnd, that 
 thefe new Levies were for Italy, tho' it was made a 
 Miftery of, and we found it to be ib ; for they took 
 their Route by La Mancha, extending themfelves to- 
 wards AlmnJovar and Argamafilla, along the Skirts of 
 the Jurifdiciaon of Toledo, till they got to Ale 
 Henares and Guadalajara, whence, advancing to the 
 Mediterranean Sea, they were cmkarqu'd at J 
 as you'l find by what follows. I could not fleep all 
 Night, after I had heard my Comrades fay there 
 was all the likelihood in the World thefe Troops 
 were for Italy, for that brought into my Mind my 
 Kindred at Genoa, whom I had for a long time defir'd 
 to fee. I thought I could not fail with them to 
 make my fortune, every Body telling me they were 
 rich, and fome of them without Children, fo that I 
 believ'd I mult needs oblige them, when I offer'd 
 them an Heir of fo great Merit in my own Perfon. 
 This was immediately concluded on, for I could not 
 have a fairer Opportunity than to go with thefe 
 Troops : But when I confider'd what Quality my 
 Kindred were of, viz,, the Chief of the Nobility of 
 Genoa, and how ill provided I was to appear before 
 them, I was ready to forego my Refolutions. I could 
 then have heartily wiih'd no Body had mention'd 
 thefe Levies to me, for, faid I, when I fliall come 
 dirty and ragged as I am, and to be fure I fhall be 
 more fo before I get to that Country, to prefent my 
 felf to their grave Excellencies of the Long Robe, 
 my Kinfmen, and tell them I am their Relation, 
 what likelihood is there they will either believe or re- 
 ceive me as I exped ? If they mould be good enough 
 to Credit me on my Word, yet would they net fail 
 to treat me like a Rogue and a Rafcal, for prefuming 
 to come before them in that pickle. My Father, 
 
 X ; who 
 
3 î o The Life and Anions Part 1. 
 
 who knew the People of that Country thoroughly, 
 was always wont to fay, you muft never truit a Ge- 
 mefe ) where his Intereft or Reputation are concern 'd. 
 I was every Day revolving thefe Difficulties in my 
 Mind, which all oppos'd my Defign, yet could not 
 make me defift altogether from my Voyage. I had 
 heard fay, He that has a mind to be Pope, need only 
 get it into his Head ; therefore I faid to my felf, Is 
 there any thing an Ingenious Man cannot bring a- 
 bout ? You need only fet well about it, and the Bu- 
 finefs is as good as done. Why ihould I pafs fuch 
 raili Cenfures on my Kindred., who are, perhaps, as 
 honeft People. as my Father who fpoke againit them ? 
 They will, no doubt, be very glad tofee me, and have 
 that Refpect. for their deceas'd Brother or Unkle, as 
 to give me whatever I fhall Hand in need of ; nay, 
 very far from treating me as an Impoilor or Villain, 
 their Prudence will fuggeft to them proper Queitions 
 to ask me of our Family, and I am prepar'd to an- 
 fwer them, being capable of telling them fuch Se- 
 crets as they'l prefently conclude none but their Bro- 
 ther's Son could ever come to the Knowledge of, 
 and which being not proper for every Body to 
 know, they'l no doubt make much of me, that I 
 may not divulge them. Thus I hung wavering be- 
 twixt Hope and Fear ; fómetimes I thought I flatter'd 
 my felf too much, and at other times believ'd I de- 
 fponded without any Reafon. One Day, as I was 
 fitting in a Corner of the Market, where I ufually 
 took my Poft to be ready when I ihould be wanted, 
 I all of a fudden heard my felf call'd two or three 
 times. Turning about to fee what was the matter, I 
 faw an Apothecary of my old Acquaintance, who 
 beckon d to me to come to him. I ran immediately, 
 but not fo fwift but two of my Companions, who 
 were nearer to him, had got thither before me. They 
 both offer'd their Services, but he refus'd them. 
 Preiling to be employ 'd, he cried, Get ye gone, Birds 
 • of 
 
Book II. of Guzman cPAIfarache. 3 1 1 
 
 of Prey, this is not a Morfel for your Chaps, it is for 
 my faithful Gwzjman. Seeing me come up, he faid, 
 Here, open thy Basket, and at the fame time threw 
 in three Bags of Money which he had in the Corner 
 of his Cloak. To what Brafier, quoth I, mull I 
 carry all this Copper ? Here's a Rogue, faid he, that 
 takes Silver for Copper. 'Come, up and away, 
 proceeded he, for I mult go immediately and pay 
 a Foreign Merchant with it, who has fold me fome 
 Drugs for my Shop. This might be his Intention, 
 but it was not mine, for I look'd upon thefe Bags as 
 io much Money fent me from Heaven, to deliver me 
 from the Milery I had ib long undergone. I had 
 done with Hopes, for I thought them mine for cer- 
 tain, being in my PolTeflion. I waited only for an 
 Opportunity to make fure of them. Open thy Basket, 
 faid I,foftly to my felf : O the bleis'd enchanting Sound, 
 worthy not only of an Apothecary, but the greateit 
 Phyiicianof the whole Faculty, in as much as they are 
 able to cure me of all my Maladies together. I follow'd 
 my Man clofe, that I might not give him fufpicion 
 of me, only now and then I would itay to reft me 
 a little, as if my Burden were too great - y but I could 
 have wifh'd it had been much greater, fince my De- 
 fign was to fteal it. My Mailer walk'd Iuitily before 
 fince he knew my Reputation, which he had expé- 
 rience more than once, and never fo much as look'd 
 behind him : But his Hour was not come, it was re- 
 ferv'd for this Blow. I was more than ordinary de- 
 lirous to meet with fome Crowd or Turning, that I 
 might give him the Go-by without Danger. As I 
 wifh'd, Fortune prefented me with an Occafion. We 
 happen'd to pafs by a Houfe which I knew had a 
 Thorough-fare, and a Back-Door. I threw my felf 
 nimbly through it without meeting any Body; and 
 before you could have told Twenty,I was got through 
 two or three By-Streets to an unknown Quarter, and 
 far enough off from my Apothecarv. I then began to 
 
 X 4 relume 
 
5 1 2 The Life and ARions Part I. 
 
 refume my former Pace to avoid bufpick n, and 
 walk'd as gravely as if I had been going in a Pro- 
 ceffion. I neverthekis verg'd as much as I could to- 
 wards the Fields; and being arrivd at the Gate de la 
 Liana , thought my Prize lure enough, yet believ'd 
 it would be but Prudence to think of other Means to 
 preferve it. I Aid then, along the River, and from 
 thence crofs'd over to Cafa del Campo. I after that 
 traveli'd above an Hour in By-ways, and being pret- 
 ty well got out of Danger, and Night drawing on, 
 1 at length ftop'd in the middle of a thick Wood noc 
 very far off the River, but very diftant from any 
 Read. The Moon ihining bright, the firft Thing I 
 did was to look out a Place where I might depofic 
 my Money fecurely. I could meet with none better 
 nor more private than the bottom of the River ; 
 where having made a Hole near two Foot deep, I 
 let down my Basket and Bags into it, covering them 
 with a large Stone to keep them from floating. Then 
 I fet up a Stake pretty near to know where I had 
 left them, and fo went to ileep at the foot of a Tree 
 in Sight of my dear Treafure, indifferently well fa- 
 tisfied, tho' not altogether void of Care. When 
 Day-light appear'd, I went and hid myfelf till it was 
 dusk again, when Hunger, which obliges even the 
 Wolf to leave his Haunts, made me to think of re- 
 turning to Madrid to get Subfiftence, for 1 knew I 
 could not live long without it. I was aflur'd, it was 
 fafer for one in my Circumftances to go to a large 
 City, where I could be beft conceafd, than expoie 
 my felf in a little Village, whither the Report of 
 my Theft being come, I could not doubt but there 
 would be Confiables and Borfholders enough ready 
 to apprehend me. I therefore refoived to pafs 7 or 
 8 Days in the Place where 1 was, which was one of the 
 DDÍCüreft and fecpreftof all the Wood; but then I muft 
 have Provisions, or ftarve. 1 determin'd to venture 
 once for all, and furniih my felf with wha.t I wanted. 
 
 Having 
 
Book II. of Guzman d' Alfarache. 5 1 5 
 
 Having Money funcunt, I bought a Hamper, a,. J 
 filling it to the Brim, rerurn\i with fafety to my 
 Lodging, where I made go< d Chear, having not 
 eat in Twenty four Hours before. I fpent good 
 part of the >:ight in that Divertifement, and the 
 reft I allotted for Sleep. My Days I pafs'd agree- 
 ably enough in reflecting upon my Conduct, and 
 how I fhould be able, to fecure what I had got. 
 It is not fufficient to have begun well, or continued 
 to do fo, unlefs one ends the fame. The two for- 
 mer are only Difpcfitions, 'tis the laft that Crowns 
 the Work. What would all this fine Prize iignifie, 
 faid I to my felf, if I mould be obîig'd to reftore 
 it, and give my Ears, perhaps my Life to Boot ? 
 I lov'd my felf well, and Money was too ufeful to 
 me to let it go without a Why-not. Hitherto all 
 was well, and I manag'd my Provifions fo, that they 
 might ferve during the whole time of my Retreat, 
 defigning to go and get more for my Journey fo 
 foon as T fhou'd judge it proper to peep abroad. 
 I refolv'd to beat it luftily upon the Hoof, and 
 not tarry long in any Place for fear of being 
 difcover'd. I had the fineft Contrivances for Mar- 
 keting that could be, and I fpar'd for no Thoughts 
 that might procure me any Pleafu*e. I had it in my 
 Imagination to employ a thoufand times more Mo- 
 ney than I had, arid filTd my Fancy with Dainties 
 of all Kinds continually. I did no longer fear to 
 appear before my Kindred at Genoa like a Beggar, 
 but had already purchas'd in my Mind the moil 
 fp'lendid Cloaths, and furprizing Equipage. All my 
 Trouble was, to know how much my Capital Srcck 
 confifted of, but I thought I mould be a Fool, if, to 
 gratine my Curioiity in that Point, I mould go and 
 expofe my felf to be feen • for, quoth I, the Devil 
 is ever upon the Watch to break the Necks of honeil 
 People. Notwithstanding all thefe Reafons, which, 
 were but too good, I could not help yielding to 
 
 ths 
 
3 1 4 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 fhe Temptation, for fee I mult what Caih I had 
 in Bank, and fo Í did. The next Day, as foon as it 
 was light, 1 went to the Water-fide and took up 
 my Basket, well drench'd you may fuppofe, and 
 having open'd it in my Place of Retreat, found 
 much more Money than I expeóted. One of the 
 Bags had 500 Francs in Gold in it, and the whole 
 amounted to at lean 900. I fpent all that Day in 
 telling my Treafure over and over, and in putting 
 the great Pieces by themfelves, and the little by 
 themfelves. I refolv'd to carry the Gold about me, 
 that in cafe of Purfuit I might not be hindred from 
 running, for the Burden would not be fo great. 
 At Night I put my Basket in the fame Place whence 
 I had taken it ; and on the Seventh Day, when I 
 thought the Informers had loil their Scent, and were 
 weary with looking after me, I went by Night as 
 formerly to furnifh. my felf with more Provifions 
 at Madrid. Upon the Eighth Day, I fifh'd up my 
 Treafure again, putting it in my Hamper under my 
 Provifions ; but as for my Basket, I left that behind 
 in the Water with the Stone upon- it, having no fur- 
 ther Occafion for it. Then getting me two lufty 
 Cudgels, one to carry my Burden on my Back, and 
 the other to walk with, I fet out by Night croîs 
 the Fields, taking the Way as near as I could to 
 Toledo. I travell'd at a pretty round rate, infomuch 
 that in Two Night's time I was got to the Sagra, a 
 Territory belonging to Toledo, and near a cut Wood 
 call'd Afue¡ueyca 3 where I defign'd to fpend the Day, 
 that I might not enter the City till Night. Scarce 
 was it Day-light, but, ti'r'd as I was, finding I had a 
 Stomach, and that the Place invited me to it, I fat 
 me down upon the Grafs, and being near a Spring, 
 feregan to pull out my Edibles to refreih and comfort 
 me. I fell to amain ; but all of a fudden was inter- 
 rupted by a Noife behind me. I look'd back hafti- 
 ly, and faw a young Man, much about my Age, . 
 
 coming 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 3 1 5 
 
 coming towards me. I ftarted, and fo did he : We 
 both look'd on each other with Surprife , without 
 faying a Word. He feem'd as if he deièrv'd Pity, 
 tho' he was well Cloath'd, and had a Bundle under 
 his Arm, through which I could difcern both 
 Linen and Woollen. I judg'd him at firft to be a 
 Knight-Errant like my felf, and that, ill Infpir'd as 
 I was, he had forfaken his Father and Mother's 
 Houfe to wander about the World. He feem'd 
 well enough Fed, and that he had not long been 
 wean'd from his Mother's Breafts. I faw he look'd 
 wiihfully on the Brcakfaft I had, and as if he would 
 not be asked twice to bear a Bob with me. One 
 need be only under Adverfiry ones felf to pity thofe 
 that are fo. I was generous to him, and invited 
 him to come and partake with »me ; but he was 
 itrangely embarrafs'd between Nece/îïty and Shame, 
 for he had not quite íhook off the latter, as I had. 
 Recovering himfelf, and being tempted by a good 
 Piece of Mutton he faw in my Hand, a fwinging 
 Piece of Cheefe that lay by me, and a good Loaf 
 of Bread of the fineft Meal, he laid afide his Mo- 
 deity, and approaching me, with a thoufand Ac- 
 knowledgments, confeis'd he had not eat for Twen- 
 ty four Hours together, and therefore might well 
 be Hungry. I bid him fall to, and us'd him like 
 a Friend, tho' of but fo fmall an Acquaintance. 
 He eat heartily, as you may imagine ; and when 
 he had done, we began to enquire of each other 
 concerning our Travels, which is a common thing 
 to do. He told me, he came from Toledo, and 
 was going to Madrid • and I acquainted him, I was 
 come from Burgos, and going for Cordon.:. He 
 gave me an Account of the Occaiion of his Pilgri- 
 mage, and I him fomething like it concerning mine. 
 Then I ask'd him, How he came to fet out on a 
 Journey without Pro virions ? adding, That Knight- 
 Errant ¿ Times were no more, who met with a 
 
 Table 
 
3 1 6 The Ufe and Anions Part I. 
 
 Tabic ready-fpread wherever they came • but I faid 
 I had found by Experience, fo much as a Man car- 
 ries out with him, fo much fhall he meet with on the 
 Road, and no more. He anfwer'd, He mould not 
 have been wanting in that Particular if he hid had 
 wherewithal, and Time to procure it ; for he was 
 forc'd to fet out with a little more Precipitation than 
 ordinary, and was more laden with Cloaths than 
 Money. Neverthelefs, reply'd I, Money is what is 
 more neceffary to a Traveller ; and if you were to 
 go even on a Pilgrimage to St. Jago } and had no- 
 thing but your Staff to fupport you by the Way, 
 you would find you would be ready to be ftarv'd 
 before you got half thither, fo much is Charity out 
 of Doors now-a-days. What you fay, -quoth he, 
 with a great deal ot Smartnefs, ( for thofe of Toledo 
 don't want Wit ) is moil true, and I have been 
 often convinc'd of it ; but when a Man can do no 
 better, what would you have him to do ? All your 
 Arguments in fuch Cafes will be to little or no 
 purpofe. Why then, my Advice would be, reply'd 
 I, That you made away with part of your Cloaths, 
 and turn'd them into ready Money, which would 
 be of greater Ufe to you, and not burden you as 
 they do now. That's what I intend to do, quoth he, 
 as foon as I can meet with a Chapman, but which 
 I can hardly hope for before I come to Madrid, and 
 yet I muft live by the way, or die before I come 
 thither. You are in the right, reply'd I - y but if, 
 difpos'd as I am to ferve you to the utmoft of my 
 Power, you would let me fee thofe Cloaths of 
 yours, it may be without' going further Í might 
 'eafe you of part of them, and give you as much 
 ready Money for them as any Body elfe would do. 
 My Pilgrim hearing me talk fo, began to fufpett. 
 me • he did not know, but I had treated him Co ge- 
 neroufly on purpofe to bring him within my Power, 
 and deprive him of his Bundle, or at leaft part of it, 
 
 not 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 3 1 7 
 
 not being able to imagine, that one, who appear d 
 To mean as I did, and whofe Cloaths were not 
 worth many Maravedís, could be able to purchafe 
 the leaft part of his Équipage. For my part, I 
 ihould have been of the fame Opinion had I been 
 in his Cafe : This Disadvantage, a bad Appearance 
 begets us. Tis good and bad Cloaths that makes 
 the common Diftin&ion between Men. This makes 
 them thought Well or 111 of- this occalions them 
 Honours or Affronts ; this procures them Friends or 
 Enemies j makes them of high or low Birth ; and, 
 in a word, renders them good for Every thing, or 
 Nothing. G>uai te hallo, tal te juzgo : As I find you, 
 fo I take you to be. Nothing but Outlide palles with 
 the World. Believing theft I had pretty well guefs'd 
 what my young Gentleman thought, as if I had 
 fcen into the very Soul of him; and obferving he did 
 not anfwer a Word, I flid my Hand flily into my 
 Hamper, and drawing forth a handful of Silver, 
 held it up, and cry'd, I fancy little Gentleman this 
 will be enough to pay for all I ihall buy of you, 
 and if not, I can furnifh you with as much more. 
 Seeing this, he immediately left off eating, and 
 running to his Bundle brought it, and told me, all 
 he had was at my Service. He would have open'd 
 it forthwith, but I bid him eat on, telling him, If 
 he were no more in hafte to be gone than I was, we 
 ihould nave time enough to talk of thofe Matters 
 afterwards. He did as I defir'd, and that with a 
 better Appetite than at firft, tho', as I have already 
 told you, he began heartilf enough. His Hopes, in- 
 deed, of eaiing himfelf of part of his Burden, and 
 procuring Money to defray the Charges of his 
 Journey, prov'd good Sauce to his Meat, and per- 
 haps made it go ¿own the more merrily. In the 
 mean time, I had no mind he ihould think the Mo- 
 ney I had fliew'd him was ill got; for it was not 
 very natural for him to^fuppofe, that one, fo ill 
 
 Cioath'd 
 
3 1 8 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Cloath'd as I was, could have fo much that was not 
 fo ; and therefore, to prevent his ill Opinion of me 3 
 I faid to him, I have one Piece of Advice to give 
 
 J ou further, if you are difpos'd to take it, for this 
 believe is the firft Journey you have made, tho' 
 'tis not mine by feveral. You will not be dilpleas'd, 
 I imagine, to be inform'd, that 'tis always good, 
 when you Travel, to have your Purfe as well lin'd 
 as you can, and your Back as ill, that is, to wear 
 the worn Cloaths you have - } for I believe, if I had 
 done otherwife, I had been robb'd a thoufand times 
 by this, and not had a Penny left to blefs my felf 
 with now. A young Man habited like me, occa- 
 iions Pity or Contempt in^ the Thieves, whilft one 
 drefs'd like you tempts them. I had, perhaps, as good 
 Cloaths as you, or .any Man, when I \zfc Burgos, but 
 Î fold them at the firft Town I came at to raife the 
 Money you fee me have here : That has been a 
 great Comfort to me, whereas a Burden at one's 
 .Back is no fmall Plague in a Journey. I contented 
 my felf with this miserable Habit, which I was nei- 
 ther afraid of fpoiling or wearing, and was wont to 
 fay to my felf, A Man that has Money, has every 
 Thing. The young Man approv'd highly of all I 
 had faid ; and making hafte to have done eating, as 
 if he fear'd I ihould change my Mind, he even with 
 His Mouth full of Meat, and the Bread in his Hand, 
 went to open his Bundle, whence he drew forth a 
 compleat Suit of grey Cloth, a Cloak, Two Shirts, 
 Two Pair of Silk Stockj,ngs, one Golilla, and one 
 Pair of Ruffles. All thefe fitted me extreamly, and 
 ièem'd to have been made on purpofe for me. I 
 try'd on the Breeches and Doublet, and nothing 
 could have fitted better. He coulçl not help telling 
 me fo himfelf to make me have the better Opini- 
 on of them, and I faw it well enough, tho' Ï would 
 not take any Notice of it. At length, as I had a 
 great Occafion for a Suit, and he had yet more for 
 
 Money, 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'AIfarache.^ 315* 
 
 Money, the Bargain was ftruck. He ask'd me yo 
 Francs, and I gave him them, providing I might 
 have his Cloak-Bag, which he confented to, and I, 
 in return, made him a Prefent of my Hamper. 
 This Cloak-Bag was what I wanted, as well to put 
 my Money in, as the reft of the Things which I 
 bought oí him, except the Cloaths which I wore. 
 As for my old Rags, I would not trouble my felf 
 with them, but left them hanging on a Tree, 
 as Trophies of my Dexterity and good Fortune. 
 My Chapman was well fatisfy'd, and Co was I. 
 When Dinner-time came, we fet down as be- 
 fore, and eat up what I had left, both Mutton 
 and Cheefe. We fpent our Afternoon partly in 
 Sleep, and partly in difcourfing of various Mat- 
 ters. When the time for our Departure was come, 
 we made each other many reciprocal Compliments. 
 He was well pleas'd to think he had no more iiich 
 a troublefome Burden to bear, and that his Purfe 
 was full ; and I was no lefs rejoic'd that 1 was 
 Cloath'd like a Prince, and had Money in my 
 Pocket to Boot. We often turn'd our Heads to 
 falute each other after we parted • and at laft, 
 when we were quite out of iight, we had no more 
 to do than to purfue each his particular Route. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
3 2o The Life- and Afîions Part I. 
 
 CHAR VIII. 
 
 Guzman tells how he arrw'd at Madrid, and fit 
 up for a Gallant there ^ thai having two Intrigues , 
 they both fncceedcd unprojperoujly , and that at 
 length quitting that City, he was ferv'd a fcurvy 
 Trick, at Mai agon. 
 
 I Got to Toledo about Ten at Night • I comb'd and 
 put my felf in order, rubbing the Duft off my 
 Shoes, that it might be thought I came in a Coach. 
 I went to the beft Inn in the City, requiring both a 
 Supper and Lodging, like one that wa5 able to pay 
 For them. I had no bad Mien, and confequently was 
 very well ferv'd ; for young People, who either have 
 or feem to have Money, are always well treated in 
 thefe fort of Places, where the Hoft will be fure to 
 make what he can of them. I fupp'd well, and flept 
 better. Next. Morning, after I had had my Choco- 
 lat, as is cuftomary for Peribns of Quality to have, I 
 took care to provide my felf with new Shoes, a Hat, 
 a Sword, and other Things that were neceifary for 
 me. Then I fent for a Taylor to difguife the Suit I 
 had bought, to the end that, coming abroad, it might 
 not be known to any of the young Fellow's Rela- 
 tions or Friends, who might think I had either ftolen 
 it or worfe, which might have # brought me under 
 bad Circumftances. The Taylor" came, and in lefs 
 than five or fix Hours he had fo tranfmogrify'd the 
 Suit, that no body could have known it. He had ta- 
 ken off the Coat-fleeves which were of Cloth,and put 
 on Taffata ones in their ftead. He had alfo chang'd 
 the Buttons of the Waftcoat, and alter 'd the Cape 
 pf the Cloak to Velvet, fo that it was fcarce poffible 
 
 to 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 321 
 
 to know any of them again ; and I my ielf might 
 have been deceiv'd that knew them before. Well ia- 
 tisfi'd with what had been done, I paid the Taylor 
 generoufly, and ventur'd out about Night to go and 
 walk in the Zocodcver, or great Market-place, tho' 
 I was not altogether free from Apprehenfion of 
 meeting fome-body might know me, yet I could 
 not continue always within Doors. I nevertheleis 
 took what Precautions were neceflary, never tarry- 
 ing two Days in the fame^Inn, nor venturing forth 
 before it was Duskiíh. I enquir'd if there were any 
 new Levies to be made ià that City, and whether 
 there were any Soldiers to pafs that way, but could 
 learn nothing certain. Whilft I was fauntering 
 about, and walking ever now and then with the La~ 
 dies, I faw every body fo gallant , that I began ta 
 be alham'd of my new-vamp'd Cloaths. When I was 
 near any of thele CprncQ.Beaus, me thought I look'd 
 like their Servant ; which I were confirm'd in the 
 next Day, when I obferv'd a very nice Beau crofs the 
 Square fo exceedingly well drels'd , that I could not 
 but envy him. Tho' it was late, I went to my Lodg- 
 ing, and determin'd immediately to fend for my 
 Taylor, that he might make me juft fuch a Suit and 
 Cloak j but upon iècond Thoughts , I deferr'd my 
 Refolution till next Morning, and going to Bed, 
 could hardly fleep a Wink for thinking on what 
 Garniture I ihould have. A thouiand Fancies ran 
 in my Head, but I could pitch upon none. When 
 Morning came, I began to reflecl: upon my Purfe, 
 and confider'd what fuch a Suit might coft. At length 
 I figh'd, and faid, very well, Guz.ma», I find thou 
 art quickly weary of being wife. If the Fancy take$ 
 thee in the Head to be lpruce and gallant, thou'lt 
 quickly fool away that little Fortune thou haft, and 
 which thou haft acquir'd with the hazard of thy 
 Ears, if not thy Life. If thou haft a mind thofe P«- 
 cats of thine ihould Dance, they'll quickly do fo, and 
 
 Y be 
 
32 à Tte Life and Anions Part L 
 
 be out of thy fight before thou art well aware of 
 them. We mall fee what a fine Conclufion thou'lt 
 bring Matters to., and what prudent Managers we 
 fhall be. Courage then; let a Suit be made as thou 
 would'ít have it, and let us Court the Ladies as thou 
 haft a Fancy to do, and fee if we don't come to our 
 Basket again ? If we ihould, where fhall we find any 
 more Apothecaries, that will fuffer us to give them 
 fuch Glitters, as we gave to him at Madrid? All 
 theiè Reflections did but quicken my Inclinations,' 
 for Day was no fooner come, but I fent for my Tay- 
 lor, and ordcr'd him to make me juft fuch a Suit as' 
 I had feen, and which I gave him an exact Deicrip- 
 tion of. He promis'd to do Wonders. I went along 
 with him to the Drapers, 'and bought what Cloth 
 was neceffary ; a? for* the Trimming, I left that to 
 him, and only requir'd of him to be as expeditious 
 as he would be for one that was going to be marri'd, 
 and purely ftay'd for his Wedding-Cloaths.The Tay- 
 lor having been before fo well paid, did all he could 
 to pleàfe me, and in two Days I had my Suit up- 
 on my Back very gallant, fpruce and magnificent. 
 Kothing was wanting that could fet it off, and Gold 
 glitter'd every where. I was now no longer a 
 Gentleman that fear'd to look like anothers Servant. 
 On the contrary, they rather look'd like mine. I 
 had compleatly the Air of a Matter, and thought I 
 refembled my Father very much when he was young, 
 for I was very well made, and fo was he. I had a 
 delicate white and red Complexion , and fair Hair, 
 tho' fomewhat enclining to Yellow, as my Father's 
 was. My Shape was good ; and altho' I was Young, 
 my Air, Mien and Gate, were what I could wifh 
 them. In a word, I might very well pafs for fome 
 body. God knows how often I look'd in a Glafs ; I 
 could hardly be tir'd with it ,* neverthelefs was more 
 than ordinary defirous to be abroad , that I might 
 Ihew my felf. I had no fo_oner fatisfied my Taylor, 
 
 but 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 303 
 
 but I went out in great hafte, and ran thro' all the 
 Streets of Toledo before I look'd behind me. I did not 
 care whether any body knew me, or I them, as long 
 as I was io well drefs'd. My Hoftefs feeing me io 
 genteel, told me, I ought to have a Lackey; I bid 
 her get me one, which ihe doing, I took him, and 
 found him to be one that look'd like a Page, where- 
 fore I had him drefs'd accordingly. Sunday coming, 
 I fail'd not to go and ihew my felf at the great 
 Church, where I knew the fineft Ladies were. I or- 
 der'd my Page , or Lackey, which you pleafe , to 
 follow me clofe ; and as he was a little Raw, I was 
 fain to inftruct him how he fhould behave himfclf to 
 do me Honour. The Congregation was great, con- 
 fining as well of Men as Women of the greateft Qua- 
 lity. I thruft thro' them with a great deal of Aifu- 
 rance, and went and vifited all the Chapels one after 
 another, like a Perfon that had fome Devotion in 
 his Head; but, ^alas! mine was only to ihew my Rig- 
 ging. After I had made this 7W, I ftop'd between 
 the two Choirs, where were the principal and fineft 
 Ladies. It was there I difplay'd all the fine Airs I 
 had learn'd at Madrid, and which I had praétis'd over 
 and over in the Morning at my Looking-Glafs. I 
 expos'd my Cloaths to view as much as I could, that 
 they might draw the Eyes of the Spectators upon 
 me ; and then I lifted up my Legs from time to time, 
 that they might fee my Garters, which were of the 
 trueft German Mode. I had very fine Buckles in my 
 Shoes, and confequently took care to ihew my Feet 
 as much as was poflible. I ftretch'd forth my Neck, 
 and roul'd my Eyes about with a languishing Air. 
 Then I thruft out my Breaft , Hood firm upon one 
 Leg, and tofs'd the other into the Air ; which be- 
 ing a Pofture not eaiy to be continu'd, I chang'd it 
 from time to time, fometimes ftanding upon one 
 Leg, and fometimes on the other. I had new Gri- 
 maces according to the Ladies I look'd upon, or 
 chat look'd upon me. I grin'd upon one, fmil'd 
 
 Y z upon 
 
3 24 The Life and Anions Part t 
 
 upon another, ogled a third, and look'd languifhing 
 upon a fourth. In a word, I behav'd my felf ib ridi- 
 culoufly, that at length the Men, who faw my apifh 
 Geftures, and believ'd me to be a Coxcomb, began 
 to laugh out-right, and fome of the Women did the 
 like. But as long as they look'd upon me, I car'd 
 not for that ; I had fo good an Opinion of my felf, 
 and my Equipage, that 1 did not think there was any 
 thing ridiculous in me, but rather took their Laugh- 
 ter for a Token of their Efteem and Admiration. 
 As for the Women, quoth I, who dote upon every 
 thing that belongs to a Man, even his greateft Fol- 
 lies, if they laugh at me, it muft be fuch as I have 
 not look'd ib kindly upon as I have upon others; 
 for fome I'm fure have reafon to believe me rank'd 
 among the Number of their Adorers. So it fell out, 
 and for which I fufFer'd, as you will hear hereafter. 
 There were two above the reft that form'd Schemes 
 againft my Perfon, or rather againft my Purfe. I 
 knew of tne Pretentions of one, and encourag'd them ; 
 but as for the other, I knew nothing of the Matter, 
 and could attribute them only to the Stars. The for- 
 mer had a Face good enough , look'd a Httle Ro- 
 guifh, yet had fomething that pleas'd me exceeding- 
 ly. I gave her fome Tokens of my Affe&ion , but 
 like a Novice, which Women like better than the, 
 Proceedings of your thorough-pac'd Lovers. I was, 
 not of an Age to be very expert in that Art. She on*. 
 ly made a Return to me once; but I underftood her, 
 and which charm'd me extreamly. She contented 
 her felf, during the reft of the Time of Devotion, 
 to look upon me only now and then by Stealth, but 
 that moil tenderly and paffionately, and I did the 
 like to her as well as I could. Mafs being over, ihe' 
 went away,and I follow'd her as I thought it became 
 me to do. She walk'd gravely along to give me time 
 to • come up with her, which I foon did ; and as \ 
 went behind her, I would ever now and then íay¡ 
 fome foft Thing to her as well as I was able.She made, 
 
 no 
 
Book II. of Guzman cPAlfarache. 325 
 
 no Reply, yet ever now and then turn'd back, and 
 gave me a languiihing Look with her great Eyes, 
 which I took for an Indication that ihe durft not 
 fpeak for fear of the Duenna that follow'd her clofe. 
 This Conftru&ion I put upon her Silence, but I was 
 very well fatisfi'd for all that. A little matter ferves 
 in thefe fort of Affairs, and I fuffer'd my felf to be 
 entangl'd by her Lime-twig like a young Sparrow. 
 I became every Minute more Amorous. At length, 
 walking in this manner, we came to a Street near 
 St. Cyprians Church, where ihe liv'd. Entering her 
 Houfe, íhe only tofs'd back her Head as a fign of 
 thanking me for my Trouble, and fo we partea My 
 Heart was top-full of Love and Joy, and fo I parti- 
 cularly took notice of the Street and Houfe where 
 ihe liv'd. I was no fooner got into another Street, 
 but I was attack'd afreíh by a fort of Waiting-Wo- 
 man with a great Cap on her Head. She ftay'd for 
 me at the Corner of the Street, and made Signs to 
 me to follow her; which I did, being defirous to 
 know what ihe would have with me. She did not 
 carry me far, for the firit Tort-cochcr we came to, ihe 
 enter'd, and I after her. When we were there alone, 
 and ihe thought no body could hear, íhe began with 
 a long Encomium upon my Peribn, telling me, I 
 muft not be furpris'd , if being fo Charming and 
 Genteel as I was, I had won upon a Lady of Quali- 
 ty who had ihcn me in the Church I came from: 
 She faid, ihe came from that Lady to acquaint me 
 with the advantagious Opinion ihe had of me, and 
 that ihe muft needs know where I lodg'd. She told 
 me moreover, her Lady was a Perfon of great Qua- 
 lity and Merit, newly marri' d, fair to Perfection, and 
 whom I muft be more than ordinarily Happy to have 
 mov'd at the firft fight; but íhe faid, ihe would tel! 
 me no more of her, and leave me to conceive the 
 reft when I faw her; which, if I thought fit, I might 
 foon do. I fwallow'd all this Bait with a great deal 
 
 Y 9 of 
 
$26 The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 of Greedinefs, and could hardly contain my felf for 
 the Pleafure I had in hearing it. I fmil'd, I appear'd 
 modeft, making her from time to time feveral little 
 Bows to íhew my Gratitude, but that without inter- 
 rupting her,for 1 had too great a Satisfa&ion in hear- 
 ing her talk to do that. But at length, when I found 
 fhe had done delivering her Embaífy, aifuming an 
 Air of Grandeur intermix'd with fome formels, I 
 anfwer'd this intriguing Gipfy, that I was altogether 
 confounded at ib great an Honour done me by a 
 Lady, whom I had not the leait deferv'd it of ; that 
 I did not doubt but fhe was a Perfon of great Quality 
 and Merit, and fhe had not addreffed her felf to one 
 of inferiour Rank, which I would convince her of by 
 my Condud, not being willing to let her Lady come 
 to my Lodging, but that I would wait upon her 
 wherefoever fhe would pleafe to appoint me, and be 
 ready to do her all the Service ihe could require of 
 me. Here die Confidente interrupted me, telling me, 
 her Lady could not expofe me fo much to the Fury of 
 a Jealous Husband, as to let rae come any where to 
 her ; but had given her Orders to know exprefly my 
 Lodging, that fhe might wait upon me with greater 
 Security to us both. It being a Thing indifferent, I 
 told her where I lodg'd, which was in one of the 
 principal Inns of the City. Hearing this, ihe de- 
 parted, telling me, her Lady would be impatient to 
 know the Succefs of her Commiffion. 
 
 I thought, when I came out of the Church, I 
 fhould have but one Intrigue to manage, but you fee 
 I did not go far before I had two. Neverthelefs, as 
 this laft feem'd to me a little Rcm¿mtick y not having 
 feen the Perfon had been mention d to me, I was 
 enclin'd to lean towards the other, who was in- 
 deed a handfomc Woman, and had altogether pof- 
 fefs'd my Heart. This Augmentation of Happinefi, 
 however, lifted me tip exceedingly, and made me 
 begin to grow Vain. See, faid Í tomvy felfj what 
 
Book II. cf Guzman d' Alfarache. 327 
 
 an Advantage it is to be well-born, for I find I ihall 
 quickly refemble my Father as nearly as one Drop 
 of Water can another. I did but make my Appea- 
 rance a little in this City, and two Ladies, perhaps 
 the mod beautiful in Toledo, are immediately fallen 
 in love with me. What may I not hope for, if I con- 
 tinue here long, ,fince my beginning has been fo for- 
 tunate ? I refolv'd, neverthelefs, not to be too lavifli 
 of my felf, but to know who I had to deal with, 
 that I might fupport my felf the better. With thefe 
 pleafing Thoughts I went to my Lodging, which tho 
 they find my whole Head, yet they did not hinder 
 me from dining. I had a good Stomach, and was not 
 a Lovér languiihing enough to baulk my Appetite. 
 Ï love Solidity, and could not be well impos'd upon 
 by .a trifling Amour. 
 
 ? The Time of commodioufly walking the Streets 
 was no fooner come, but I prepar'd to go and fee my 
 firft Miftrefs ; for as for the other, I knew not where 
 to find her, nor was I very folicitous about it, as 
 looking upon it to be a Defign upon me. I pafs'd 
 and repafs'd through the Street where my former 
 Miftreis liv'd, andlook'd very earneftly at her Win- 
 dows, but could not fee fo much as the Shadow of a 
 Woman appear. At length, towards Night I faw a 
 lower Window half open, which approaching cau- 
 tioufly, I found there was what I moft defir'd. She 
 feem'd to be under great Suprife on account of the 
 Neighbourhood, who lhe iàid were all tattling Peo- 
 ple, and therefore lhe defir'd me to come again in 
 two Hours ; and 'if I pleas'd, I might fup with her,' 
 for that there was no body in the Houfe but her felf 
 and Servants , who were her Confidents. Heaven 
 knows how I was over-joy'd at this Proffer, and I en- 
 deavour'd to make her fenfible I was not a Peribn ca- 
 pable of refufing fo great an Honour. I beg'd her at 
 the fame time to let me bring my Difh along with 
 ine: To which ihe anftfer'd, That was altogether 
 
 Y 4 unneçef- 
 
328 The Ufe and Anions Parti. 
 
 unneceffary ; but for fear I might not like what was 
 prepar'd, I might do as I thought fit. Thus our Dif- 
 courfe ended for the prefent, and having referr'd the 
 xeft till Night j we parted With reciprocal Airs of 
 Tenderneís. I was fo well pleas'd with this Adven- 
 ture, that I hardly touch'd Ground all the way I 
 went home, fo brisk and gay I was. I immediately 
 gave Orders to my Lackey or Page,to go and get me, 
 as fpeedily as the Time would permit, a roafted Difh, 
 as exquifite and nice as could be got. It confifted of 
 Partridges, Quails, Leverets, and many other Things 
 of the niceft kind. I added to it feveral Bottles of 
 excellent Wine, and a Defert of the choiceft Sweet- 
 meats and Fruits. All this was ready, and ferit at the 
 Hour appointed, and I ibon followed, becaufe I 
 would not have fo good a Supper fpoil'd. At my .Ar- 
 rival I was very kindly receiv'd by my Nymph, yet 
 could not but obferve a great deal of Concern in her 
 Countenance. She conducted me immediately to 
 her Chamber, which was neatly fet out, and for Pri- 
 vacy Vfake had order'd thf> -Table to be fpread there, 
 which was well cover'd. I was well fatisfied with 
 thefe good Beginnings, which proimYd nothing but 
 .what would be agreeable for the future ; yet, as I per- 
 ceiv'd, the Sadnefs in her Looks ftill continu'd, and 
 ihe appear 'd uneafy in whatever ihe faid or did, I 
 put on a bold Face, and ask'd her, Whether any 
 thing had happen'd fince my feeing her laft, that had 
 occafion'd her any Difturbance ? She anfwer'd at 
 firit, there had not; but, at length feeming unwilling 
 to conceal any thing from me, ihe told me, That 
 fince her Appointment with me, her Brother was 
 •come from Madrid, where he had been to folicite a 
 Court-Preferment; that Ihe knew not where to 
 fend to me, or Ihe would have given me notice 
 of it ; that ihe was unwilling to break her Word 
 with me, and confequently would not turn me away 
 when ihe faw me at the Door, for fear that might 
 
 have 
 
Book H. of Guzman d'Alfarachc 325Í 
 
 have caus'd me to have had an ill Opinion of her. 
 She acquainted me moreover, this Brother of hers 
 was a Perfon of a very fevere Temper, and over- 
 nice in Points of Reputation. She laid, he was ex- 
 treamly Impetuous and Violent ; but that being gone 
 to fee fome Friends of his in the City, whence he 
 was not accuftomed to return before Midnight, ihe 
 hop'd he would not come to difturD their ib happy 
 Meeting. This Conclufion of hers ieem'd lucky 
 enough ; but ftill the coming of a Brother of ib im- 
 petuous and furious a Temper, at fo unfeaibnable a 
 Time, could not but abate part of my Satisfaction ; 
 and, to fpeak Truth, I would have given fomething 
 that I had had Notice of it before ¿ for altho' 1 was 
 naturally none of the greateft Cowards, yet I was 
 fitter to feem Brave, than appear really ib. In cafe 
 of fighting, I had much rather have a large Field 
 to traverie in, than be coop'd up in a Chamber, as 
 I was like to be here, where 1 muft fight, or be 
 kill'd : But, as the Matter ftood, there was no Reme- 
 dy. I therefore feem'd ^ogether indifferent and 
 refolute, telling my MiftreTs, we would fup, come 
 what would ont ; and that if her Brother ihould 
 happen to interrupt us, he might chufe what Pro- 
 ceeding he pleas'd, for as for my part I ihould not 
 trouble my Head about it. I was ready to defend 
 my felf, and that was all an honeft Man could do. 
 She then order'd Supper to be brought up • but it 
 was no fooner fet on the Table, but this curfed 
 Devil of a Brother came, and knock'd fo furioufly 
 at the Door, as if he would have broke it down. 
 My Miftrefs immediately fell a trembling, or at 
 leaft counterfeited doing fo, and I in good earneft 
 began to grow pale and fhiver. The Servants feem'd 
 afraid likewiie, and as if they knew not what to do. 
 I look'd about for a Place to hide in, and was 
 going to creep under the Bed ; but Madam thought 
 a Tub ihe us'd to bath her felf in more proper, and 
 
 fo 
 
33° We Life an J Allions Part t 
 
 lb I was thruft under that. It ftood by her Bed-fide, 
 and, the better to conceal me, fhe threw a Tapiftry 
 Carpet over me. I lik'd that well enough ; but 
 the Tub was confounded wet and nafty, having 
 been us'd but a little before, and not wafh'd fincè. 
 The curfed Brother entered ; and leeing the Table 
 io well cover'd. pretended to be furpris'd, faying 
 jiot a Word for lome time ; but at- length breaking 
 Silence, furioufly he cry'd to his Sifter, with a great 
 deal of wonder, Hey day ! What's the meaning of 
 all thefe great Preparations, and who did you ex- 
 pert here to Night to help you off with all thefe 
 fine Diihes? No Body, Brother, but you, anfwer'd 
 fhe cunningly, who could I exped elfe ? Me, re- 
 ply 'd he! You don't ufe to treat me after this rate; 
 and how you fhould come to do it now, I can't ima- 
 gine : It was to welcome me from Madrid, I war- 
 rant ! Come tell me, was it not ? I told you, I 
 ihould not come home before Midnight, and you 
 was refolv'd to be beforehand with me, and get 
 Things ready againft I came. I- did fo indeed, 
 Brother, quoth fhe ; for tho' you always tefl me 
 you won't come home till it be late, you often come 
 and furprife me, as you have done now ; and then 
 you are angry that your Supper is not ready, which 
 I were refolv'd now to prevent. Well, Sifter, I can 
 only tell you thus much, reply 'd he, That what you 
 do, does by no means pleafe me, and I do not que- 
 ilion but you have given more than fuffiçient Rea- 
 fon to the Neighbours to talk of you as they do. 
 You know how much Reputation ought to be valu d 
 by a young Lady of your Quality, and how fcrupu- 
 îoufly Nice I am in that Point ; and yet for you to 
 give me thefe Occafions to fufpetr. you, I proteft, 
 Sifter, I'm afham'd of you. But let's go to Supper^ 
 fince you fay you've provided it for me, and after- 
 wards we'l talk more. He then fell to eating as 
 if the Devil had been in him, and his pretended Si- 
 fts* 
 
p-})' 
 

Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarach¿ 331 
 
 iter fat down with him, whilft poor I, for whom 
 thofe Dainties had been prepar'd, lay under the Tub 
 without tailing a Bit. As he eat, he did no- 
 thing but murmur and growl at his Sifter , and 
 whenever ihe fpoke, he would fly in a Paílion 
 with her, as if he would have eat her too, talk- 
 ing of nothing but Killing, Slaying, and Murdering. 
 Ever now and then I ventur'd foftly to lift up the 
 Tub, to fee if he was fuch a terrible Fellow as he 
 fpoke himfelf to be ; but his continual turning about 
 prevented my giving my fclf that Satisfa&ion. I 
 was plaguily afraid he would fee me, and that made 
 me tremble every Joint of me. At laft, however, I 
 got fuch a light of him, as gave me fufficient Rea/on 
 to believe he was more a Bully than a Hero, yet I 
 durit not attempt my Liberty, fo much my Heart 
 was funk. My Confinement was more than ordina- 
 ry affliding to me whilft he enjoy 'd himfelf at Eaie 
 at Table, where he had been now above an Hour, 
 and which I thought an Age, being not able to 
 comprehend how lb palîîonate a Fellow could Co 
 long continue Patient, tho' in eating. I was ever* 
 mad to think ont, and wiftfd a thoufand times he 
 would leave me fomething ; for Fear had not fo al- 
 together taken away my Appetite but I was" ready 
 to die with Hunger, efpecially when I heard how 
 his Chaps went. He feem'd to eat on purpofe that 
 he might leave me only Bones to pick. Will not 
 the Sifter, faid I to my felf, remember me, J won- 
 der, and fet a Bit by for Confcience-fake, fmce ihe 
 knows I have not fupp'd, and would be glad of her. 
 curfed Brother's Leavings if he would be but gone.. 
 What was yet more tormenting, he not only eat 
 heartily, but drank more heartily • for of the 
 Four Bottles of Wine I had fent in, he had emp- 
 tied Three before Supper was over. I reckon'd at 
 leaft upon the Fourth, but I reckon'd without my 
 ftoft, as the Saying is ¿ for the Clcrçh was no fooner 
 
 taken 
 
3J2 The Life and Aftions Parti. 
 
 taken away than he call'd for Pipes and Tobacco, 
 to make an end, as he faid, of the Laft. A terrible 
 Sentence this to me ; but, to compleat my Misfor- 
 tune, his Sifter having faid to him, he would do 
 well to go and Smoak in his own Chamber, and 
 Jeave her at liberty to undrefs her felf and go to 
 Bed , he anfwer a briskly, She might do as flie 
 pleas'd ; but, for his part, he was refolv'd to fpend 
 the Night there, and that for good Reafon. Truly 
 I now gave my felf up for loft, when I heard this 
 iaft Resolution of this mad Brother, and could not 
 but think fome of the Servants had betray'd us, and 
 given him Intelligence of our Feaft. But this would 
 have been nothing if I could have been quits for 
 paying for the Supper without eating any of it, I 
 ihould not have mattered that; but to fpend the 
 whole Night under a nafty Tub, upon the bare Pave- 
 ment, and during the Pleafure of a drunken Sot, 
 who I knew not when he would give over, that's 
 hard you'l fay. It did not pleafe me by any means, 
 and I own I was fo redue'd, that at laft I was oblig'd 
 to pray, which I had not done in a good while be- 
 fore, and promife Heaven I would never engage in 
 the like Folly again if I might be but deliver'd from 
 this, which neverthelefs I had fufíer'd with fo much 
 Juftice. The cunning Gipfy of a Sifter feem'd dif- 
 pleas'd that her pretended Brother drove her out of 
 her Chamber, and would needs argue the Cafe with 
 him ; but he told her, it was his Pleafure, and ihe 
 muir. obey. Behold me then all alone, with this 
 Fellow in the Chamber, daring fcarce to breath or 
 ilir for fear of being difcover'd, and dreading to 
 let a F~ t, more thanT Ihould have done to Hoop or 
 Hollow at another time. For his part, he had a 
 thoufand different Geftures, with his Pipe always in 
 his Mouth ; fometimes he would fit in one Pofture, 
 and fometimes in another ; fometimes he would 
 walk, fometimes dance, and fometimes flourilh his 
 
 Sword, 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 333 
 
 Sword, and fence againft the Hangings. He whift- 
 led, he Tung, he fwore, he ftorm'd, he ftamp'd, 
 he put himfelf into the moft violent Partions as 
 a Man that was either drunk or mad, or both. 
 I waited till he ihould fall a-fleep ; but, alas ! Wine 
 had not the fame Effeft upon him as it has upon 
 others, for he only tofs'd himfelf upon his Sifter's 
 Bed, without undreffing; and having his naked 
 Sword and Piftols by him for greater Caution's-fake, 
 lay finging almoft all the Night. Whenever I made 
 the leaft Noife with my Tub, which I lifted up 
 fometimes to hear whether he flept or not, he would 
 leap up upon his Breech, and cry out as loud as he 
 could baul, Who's there ? I ihrunk into my Shell a- 
 
 Îçain, and never thought Night fo long as this. At 
 aft. Day beginning to appear, I heard him fnore 
 to iome purpofe, and then I refolv'd to venture forth, 
 and to deliver my felf from fo great Miièry. I 
 pull'd off my Shoes that I might make no Noife, 
 and taking them in my Hand, did foftly along to 
 the Door, which by good Fortune I found only 
 latch'd. I open'd it gently, and making hafte to 
 the Street-Door, I fíw the Key hang up bv it, 
 which piece of Good Luck I believ'd I owd to 
 the honourable Sifter. Without loiing any more 
 time, I open'd the Door and got out, trudging it 
 away as faft as I could towards my Lodgings, ex- 
 treamly well pleas'd that I had got clear of ib 
 rough a Fellow at fo cheap a Rate. When I came to 
 our Inn I found no Body up, not ib much as my lit- 
 tle Rafcal of a Page ; fo that not being willing to 
 difturb the Houie, I went and loiter'd at a Paftry- 
 Cook's, defiling to tafte of his Parties, for you muft 
 imagine I was plaguy Hungry. He gave me fome, 
 and I eat them heartily, which was no fmall Com- 
 fort to me after my fo unlucky Adventure; which 
 taught me, that a Man could not be faid to be happy, 
 till he faw the End of what he propos'd to himfelf. 
 
 At 
 
334 Tb e Ltf e an ^ ¿¿Mews Part I. 
 
 At laft our Doors were open'd, and fo I Aid in to 
 Bed as foon as I could, being confoundedly tir'd 
 with my hard Lodging the Night before, and my 
 Watching to Boot, for you muit think I could not 
 fleep with fo many Fears about me. When all came 
 to all, I could not fleep now neither, at leaft for the 
 preiènt, fo much the Cares and Fears of that Night 
 had ruffled my Spirits : But at length, I did fleep, 
 and that foundly. I had not lain long before my 
 Boy came and wak'd me, telling me, two Ladies 
 below defir'd to fpeak with me. I ask'd him haftily 
 who they were : and h« told me, One, by her mag- 
 nificent Habit, ieem'd to be Miftrefs to the other, 
 but that both were well drefs'd. I prefently guefs'd 
 this was the unknown Lady that pretended to be 
 in love with me, as in effecl: it was. I had not much 
 fooner bid my Lackey defire them to walk in, than 
 I faw a Lady enter perfectly well drefs'd, who by her 
 Air and Mien could not in my Judgment be leis 
 than a Marchionefs or Countefs. She had with her 
 the fame Woman that accoited me in the Street, and 
 who waited at the Door whilft her Lady ventur'd 
 within the Ruelle, and came and fat down by my 
 Bed-fide. I made her Ten thoufand low Bows, beg- 
 ging a Million of Pardons for my Rudeneís in re- 
 ceiving her Honour after that rate ; but I told her, 
 I had much rather offend in that Nature, than have 
 made her Honour wait at the Door, tho' but for a 
 Moment. I acquainted her moreover, if I could 
 but have been inform'd of the Grace and Favour 
 (he defignd me, I would have taken Care not to 
 have been furpris'd in that indecent Pofture, but pre- 
 paid my felf to have receiv'd her Honour with all 
 the Refpe& and Deference due to her Quality. She 
 took little notice of my Compliments, only now and 
 then bow'd her Head ; and in truth, I had no great 
 Reafon to make fo many Apologies for the Condi- 
 tion fhe fouud me in, being in a good Silk Bed, with 
 
 the 
 
Book It óf Guzman d'AIfarache. 335 
 
 the fined Linen, and ever)' Thing anfwerable about 
 me. She being dcfircus to come to the Bufincfs of 
 her Vint, forthwith ask'd me, How long I had been 
 in Toledo ? It I were like to ftay there any time ? 
 What I came about ? Whence I came ? Who I was ? 
 and a great many other fuch-like Queftions, which 
 I found no difficulty to anfwer, being naturally of a 
 ready Wit, and ;i fruitful Invention, eipecially where 
 a Story was to be told on the Spot. This was my 
 Talent ; fo I quickly fatisfied her as to my Quality, 
 my Bufinefs, and my Continuance at Court. I fail'd 
 only in one Thing, and that was, in telling her I 
 came to Toledo only on account of Pleafure, and 
 that I mould not continue there long, by which ihe 
 judg'd I was not a proper Perfon for her •> therefore 
 immediately ruminated in her Mind how ihe might 
 pull a Quill from fuch a young Goofe as I was, and 
 not altogether lofe her Labour. She had a large 
 Veil on her Head, fuch as the Ladies of our Coun- 
 try are accuftom'd to wear, which having put a lit- 
 tle afide, ihe difcover'd a fine Face, afterwards a de- 
 licate white Neck, and at length curious white and 
 well-fhapd Hands, with Rings on her Fingers that 
 glitter'd and dazled my Eyes exceedingly. At 
 length (he pull'd her Veil quite off, and then appear'd 
 a curious Shape, and moft magnificent Dreis. She 
 next drew a fine Coral Rofary out of her Pocket, but 
 all with a negligent Air, and as if ihe did not mind 
 what ihe did. This Rofary was exceeding rich, ac- 
 companied with Gold Croffes, Relicks, precious 
 Stones, and other fuch-like Religious Gallantries of 
 great Value. Whilft ihe was difcourfing me, and 
 claying with her Rofary, all of a fudden ihe ceas'd 
 fpeaking, feeling in her. Pocket, and looking around 
 her as if ihe had loft ibmewhat. All this while íhe 
 faid not a Word, but fufficiently difcover'd her Sur- 
 prife by her Earneftnefs and Inquietude. I immedi- 
 ately a^k'd her what was the matter. She anfwer'd 
 
 nothing, 
 
33^ The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 nothing, but feem'd to affli& her felf inceifantly. 
 This augmented my Trouble and Curiofity, info- 
 much that I requeued her a fécond time to tell me 
 what ihe had loft, and that if it was any thing in 
 my Chamber, I ihould afluredly find it, and would 
 reftore it to her again, be it of what Value it 
 would. She would not anfwer me yet, feeming 
 more and more concern'd \ but at length calling 
 her Servant, ihe told her, She muft immediately go 
 home, and fee for her great Gold Crofs that hung to 
 her Chaplet which her Husband had given her, for 
 that ihe fear'd ihe had toft it, and (he had rather 
 lofe her Life ; fo rifing up to be gone, ihe would 
 have left me. I beggd of her with all my Might 
 not to go away for that, telling her, there were 
 CrolTes enough of the fame kind to be had at the 
 Goldfmiths ; and in cafe ihe had loft it, if ihe pleas'd 
 but to tell me what fort of one it was, I would foon 
 procure her another. She refus'd my Offer; and be- 
 ginning to lament more than before, begg'd of me 
 in the tendereft manner to let her go, promifing to 
 come and vifit me again the fame Day, providing 
 ihe found her Croîs ; and tho' ihe ihould not, ihe 
 would be fure to come the, next Morning betimes. 
 Upon this ihe left me very fad and melancholly 
 that ihe would needs be gone in that manner ; for 
 íhe was in Truth, a handfome Woman, with a good 
 Air, and feem'd to have been bred at Court. She 
 had likewife a great deal of Wit. In the mean time, 
 as I had not flept all the Night before, and but little 
 that Morning, being wak'd, forfooth, for this Lady 
 of Quality, I had a huge mind to take t'other Nap, 
 notwithftanding my Love and other Adventures; 
 but which did not laft long, for I could not fleep 
 heartily with fo many Cares in my Head. Being 
 broad awake, I dreis d my felf, and Dinner-time 
 being come, plac d my felf at Table ; but where I 
 was no fooner fet, than the Lady of Quality's Wo- 
 man, 
 
Book II. cf Guzman d'AIfarache. 337 
 
 man, with a Horfe-Pox to her, came to difturb me. 
 After having made me the common Compliments on 
 the part of her Lady., ihe began, forfooth, to tell me, 
 with a mournful Countenance^ they could not find 
 the Gold Croîs neither high nor low ; and that her 
 Lady had laid it upon her, becaufe me had prefs'd 
 her io that Morning to come and fee me j that Hie 
 had been all over the Town with all the Gold- 
 fmiths to find a Croîs like it ; and that at laii ihç 
 had met with one to her Mind, but having no Mo- 
 ney I prefently comprehended her ; and being 
 
 generous to Profuienefs, interrupted and told her, 
 it was but a Trifle for her Lady to trouble her ièlf 
 fo much about. She reply 'd, It was not for the Va- 
 lue of the Gold., but becaufe her Husband had given, 
 it her, that fhe was fo conccrn'd at the Lois of it, 
 he being naturally Jealous, and one that would bo 
 apt to believe flic had made a Prefent of it to ibme 
 Gallant or other ; for fhe was naturally very Liberal, 
 and gave away moft ihe had. This pleas'd me very 
 well in a Woman, where Generofity does not com- 
 monly abound. I gave the Servant to underftand 
 ihe might depend upon the Crofs me had feen at the 
 Goldimiths, and that if fhe would but have Patience 
 till I had din'd, we would go and Purchafe it to- 
 gether. She, who came on no other Account, was 
 very well fatisfy'd ; and while I were eating did 
 not fail to fet forth her Lady's Charms, and the 
 great Kindncfs ihe had for me ; alluring me, ihe 
 would not for Ten thoufand Worlds break her WorcJ 
 with me, but come punctually according to her Pro- 
 mue next Morning. When Dinner was cver ; I went 
 with her to the Goldímiths and bought the Crofs, 
 Which coif me 40 Franc*. Having fo done, I gave 
 it her, bidding her tell her Lady, I did not look 
 upon that as a Prefent worthy her Acceptance , but 
 confidering the Occalion that offer'd, I made bold tQ 
 repair the Lois, dio' innocent, fince it &ad been in* 
 
 eurr*di 
 
338 The Ufe and Anions Part L 
 
 curr'd on my Account, and in my Chamber. The 
 Woman, overjoy'd, gave me a Thoufand Thanks on 
 her own part, promifing to make her Lady ac- 
 quainted with my gallant and generous way of Pro- 
 ceeding, which fhe did not doubt would abundantly 
 confirm me in her Favour, tho' I had already io 
 great an Intereft in her. This faid, we parted. 
 I had Thoughts of following her to fee where her 
 I.ady liv'd, but befides that I imagined it would dif- 
 pleaiè her, and fpoil all, I had an Inclination to 
 go to my other Miihefs, who tho' {he had not ib 
 good an Air or Face, I lik'd better, becaufe her 
 Beauty was more natural, and lefs broken. I was 
 not a little defirous to unriddle the Adventure of the 
 Brother : I waited a proper Time for't, and at length 
 faw my Miftrefs at her Window, who no fooner 
 perceiv'd me, but ihe made Signs to me to be gone, 
 for ihe had Company with her. I neverthelefs ftay'd 
 thereabouts, and in lefs than a quarter of an Hour 
 obferv'd her to go out alone, taking her Way di- 
 rectly to the great Church. I follow'd her with a 
 great deal of Joy, but at a diftance ; ancj feeing 
 her enter the Church, redoubled my Pace, that I 
 might overtake and not lofe fight of her. She only 
 went crofs one of the liles, and fo out at another 
 Door to ihorten her way to the Street of fattens, 
 whence fhe went into Mercers Street, where feeing 
 me behind her, ihe made Signs to me to come up, 
 which I did. There me told me with a Thoufand 
 Sighs, and almoft Tears in her Eyes, how cpncern'd 
 fhe had been on my Account, becaufe of that curfed 
 Brother of hers, of whom ihe related to me a 
 World of Stories. This alarm'd my Heart anew, 
 and I now found my felf infinitely more in love 
 with her than before. She exprefs'd her felf with 
 all the Kindnefs and Tendernefs imaginable, and 
 faid. She would at the hazard of her Life venture 
 that Night^to make me. Amends for the ill Reception 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Álfarache, 3 3^ 
 
 1 had had before, if I were fo pleas'd ; but, conti- 
 nued ihe, there will be now no more fuch Rifque to 
 run, fince this mad Brother of mine will be going, in 
 an Hour or two at fartheft, into the Country with- 
 out fail, where he is to ftay Three or Four Days. 
 I lik'd this well, and was glad to hear her talk at 
 ¿hat Rate ; for otherwife I would not have run the 
 Hazard of pafling another Night under that filthy 
 Tub for never fo much. As Ihe was come into this 
 Shop, which ihe would have me think ihe did only 
 to have an Opportunity to confer with me, Ihe 
 thought her felf oblig'd to cheapen fomething or 
 other, and fo fell to asking the Prices of feveral 
 Trifles that belong to Women. After ihe had pitch'd 
 on fome, and agreed with the Man for ; f Francs for 
 them, íhe bid him make them up and give them 
 her, and ihe would fend her Waiting-woman with 
 the Money. The Shopkeeper making fome difficul- 
 ty to let his Goods go fo, fince he did not know her^ 
 1 was prefently at hand to offer my Service, but ihe 
 would not hear of it. At length, however, ihe ac- 
 cepted my Proffer, on condition I would permit 
 her to repay me at Night ; or in cafe I would not y 
 ihe faid ihe would leave the Goods. I told her foft- 
 ly in her Ear, we ihould eafily agree about that 
 when we came together. Then ihe recommended 
 to me not to provide any Supper, for that ihe would 
 treat me in recompence of that ihe had receiv'd 
 from me, and of which, by the by, I had ib frnall 
 a Share. This Excefs of good Humour charm'd me 
 exceedingly, infomuch, that I told her, ihe ihould 
 be Miftrefs of every thing I had, as ihe was already 
 of my Heart. Saying this, we parted, but not with- 
 out uttering the moít languiihing and tender Adieu: 
 that could poilibly come from the íincereít Affection, 
 and promiiing we would foon meet again to accom- 
 pliih ineffable Delights. I return'd home to wait for 
 the lucky Hour- which I expected with fuch Irrrpaf* 
 
 Z 2 tiene 9 t 
 
34^ The Life and AStions Part I. 
 
 tience, that I hardly knew how to contain my felf. 
 The Time feem'd long, and I believ'd Night would 
 never come. It came, neverthelefs, at length, and 
 my Expectations were fo extraordinary, that I went 
 along as gayly as if I were going to my Wedding, 
 and never thought I mould get to my Journey's end 
 time enough. I came to the Door, and gave the 
 Signal on which we had agreed, but no Anfwer was 
 made. I fancied I was not heard, and therefore re- 
 peated the Signal once, tw'ice and thrice. It was 
 all one, no Anfwer came; I could not imagine what 
 this could mean, unlefs the Whimfical and Ill-con- 
 dition d Devil of a Brother had chang'd his Mind, 
 and come to fmell out the Defigns of his Sifter. A 
 thoufand mocking Notions came into my Head; yet, 
 at laft, I thought I might be alarm'd too foon, and 
 therefore proceeded to give the Signal again, but 
 with greater Force than before, that I might be fure 
 to be heard. But all was to no purpofe ; I had deaf 
 or worfe People to deal with, for none can be fo 
 deaf as they that won't hear. I went and came, 
 turn'd and return d through and through the Street, . 
 but ftill faw no Light at the Window. I hearkend at 
 the Door, but the Houfe was in profound Silence. 
 Quite tir'd at length with tormenting and pla- 
 guing my felf, I refolv'd to knock, thinking the worn: 
 that could happen would be, that the Brother íhould 
 be within and come to the Door, and ask who was 
 there, and what I wanted ; to which I could an- 
 fwer, that I was miftaken in the Iloufe, and there- 
 fore begg'd his Pardon. I knock'd then in good 
 earned, but which I might do once, twice or thrice, 
 to little or no purpofe, for no Body heard me, or at 
 ¿aft would hear me. What can be the Meaning of 
 -all this, faid I then within my felf 1 Is it that I 
 mult be Bubble twice to this unkind Nymph ? And 
 that this gentle Creature, who feem'd to me Kind- 
 nefs and Courtelie it felf, mould be one of thoiè 
 
 cunning 
 
Book II. of Guzman cPAlfarache." 341 
 
 cunning Eadies, who make ic their Bufinefs to en- 
 fnare fuch young Coxcombs as I was ? Alafs ! but 
 that cannot be, quoth I, and therefore 'twere bcil 
 for me to wait, that I may fee the End of all thefe 
 Delays, which are, neverthelefs, oftentimes fervice- 
 able to Lovers, and raife their Enjoyments to a more 
 exalted Pitch. With thefe little Reafonings I paii'd 
 my Time fadly enough, till fuch time as it began to 
 be Twelve a Clock at Night, renewing ever now 
 and then my Signal, and iometimes knocking as if I 
 would beat the Door down. Whilft I was thus ftand- 
 ing, like a Fool, in expectation of what would never 
 happen, I heard a Noife, and foon after faw a Com- 
 pany of People coming along with Lanthorns, and 
 a young Gentleman at the Head of them. They 
 peep'd upon one Houfe and t'other, and at length 
 came to this where they ftop'd. I had through Pre- 
 caution retir'd to a corner of the Street, where I 
 flood, expecting what would happen. They all 
 came up in a Body, and began to thunder at the 
 Door with great Vehemence 5 but ieeing no Body 
 came, they redoubled their Strokes with great Vi- 
 gour. I was curious to know what would be the End 
 of this Comedy, and fancied they were miftaken in 
 the Houfe ; but as they began to thump with their 
 huge Staves with greater Fury than ever, all the 
 Neighbourhoodbecame at length awak'd by it. Then 
 a Servant came to the Window, and ask'd what 
 they would have, to Knock and Bounce after that 
 rate. She was anfvver'd, It was the Jnfiice wanted 
 to come in, and íhe mull open to them immediately. 
 I faw then it was the Jufllce indeed, and, to fay 
 Truth, was about to have fcamper d two or three 
 times,not knowing but it was for me that they look'd; 
 However, recovering my Courage, I reiolv'd to 
 ftand ftill, fince I were in a Place of Security ; for 
 I knew, if the worn enme to the worft, I could take 
 to my Heels and run for't. I was pleas'd the Night 
 
 Z 3 was 
 
34* The Life and Anions Parti. 
 
 was dark, and they could not eafily overtake me $ 
 therefore I determin'd to fee the end of this Farce, 
 that I might take my Meafures better another time. 
 The Door was at length open'd, and it was indeed 
 my Miftreffes Houfe that they aim'd at, for they en- 
 ter'd all together. That comforted me a little, and 
 gave me hopes 'twas not my Back the Lain was de- 
 iign'd for. The Neighbours, who had for fome time 
 look'd out at their Windows upon hearing this Noilè, 
 were now come down into the Street, to fee what 
 they could learn concerning the Occafion of it. I 
 obierv'd them talking together, and being at fo great a 
 Diftance that I could not well underftand what they 
 faid, I came nearer. It was then I heard this choice 
 Brother and Sifter were two honeft People of Cor- 
 doua, who having been whipp'd out of Madrid, had 
 for fome time drove this Trade of Kidnapping at 
 Toledo: That they had entrap'd feveral befides me; 
 and among the reft, a young Scrivener, newly mar- 
 ried, from whom they had had divers good Lumps, 
 and who was the Perfon had play'd them this Trick, 
 they having cheated him of at leaft Ten thoufand 
 Francs. The hearing of this Story, was like the ta- 
 king off a Stone of a Thoufand weight from my 
 Breaftj for now my Blood began to circulate again, 
 which had run but heavily before. Nothing could 
 have happen'd worfe to me,. than to have been taken 
 by the Jufiice in this Houfe ; and I could not but 
 give unfeigned Thanks to Heaven for delivering me. 
 from fo imminent a Danger. I now valu'd no lon- 
 ger the Charges I had been at for the other Night g 
 Supper, nor the ;? Francs I paid down for that Ba- 
 gage. I thought my felf fufficiently reveng'd when 
 I law them both led out bound to Prifon, tho' my 
 Heart began to relent ^t the fight of the Woman, 
 whom I had a fort of Kindnefs for, tho' fhe fo little 
 defer v'd it. This Farce being at an end, I went home 
 facj and melancholy, tho' I had all the Reafon in 
 ■ - ' . ' th¿ 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 343 
 
 the World to rejoyce that I had efcap'd fo great a 
 Hazard. I went to Bed, but could not fleep for 
 thinking of my paft Adventure. I was up betimes 
 next Morning, in hopes the Lady of Quality would 
 come, as in truth ihe feem'd in all Refpeéb, and 
 make me Amends for what I had fuffer'd -, but after I 
 had waited a confiderable while, I had rea fon to be- 
 lieve I was made a Bubble of, as well by this Woman 
 as the other. I might expedí her long enough, for 
 neither ihe nor her Servant intended to appear ; and 
 fo I gave over the 40 Francs for loft, as well as the 3 y. 
 Thus you fee what became of my Amours, which I 
 had promis'd my felf fo much Pleafure from. To fi- 
 nifh my AffliéHon, when I came to go to Supper at 
 Night, I found a Tip-Staff at my Lodgings, who I 
 heard came from Madrid, and was enquiring of my 
 Hoft after a certain Stranger who came lately to 
 Toledo, and whom without doubt he was looking af- 
 ter for no Good. This I did by no means like, and, 
 to fay truth, it gave me a great deal of Uneafinefs, 
 but I feem'd to take no Notice of it ; and having 
 confider'd a while on the Matter, perceiving the Tip- 
 Staff to go forth, I went and ask 'd my Hoft what I 
 had to pay ; and having difcharg'd his Reckoning, 
 and caus'd my Boy to pack up my Goods in my 
 Portmanteau, I went immediately to lodge at ano- 
 ther Inn. Calling for Supper, like one that was new- 
 ly arriv'd at that City, I was no fooner fet down, 
 ,but this confounded Tip-Staff appear'd there likewife. 
 I thought this muft needs be for my Sins, yet I kept 
 the beft Countenance I could - y but the Fear and 
 Concern I was under hinder'd me from eating a Bit : 
 I imagin'd, however, it could not be for me that he 
 look'd, ilnce he would have feis'd me when he falv 
 me firft, if it had been fo. This Thought comforted 
 me a lirtle, yet not enough to make me fleep much 
 better than I had done the two foregoing Nights ; 
 for it v/as no fooner Day than I got up,to go and fee 
 
 Z 4 what 
 
344 Th c L*f e anc t Anion* Part I. 
 
 What was to be done in this Exigency. I had not 
 gone far., before I heard one cry, Two return d Mules 
 for Almagro ; which prefently brought into my Mind 
 what courfe I were beft to take. I agreed with the 
 Crier upon the Price ; and being glad of this favou- 
 rable Occalion to quit Toledo, where every Thing 
 feem'd to foretell Misfortunes to me,and nothing fuc- 
 ceeded with me, 1 fent my Boy for my Cloaths, and 
 to pay off my laft Landlord, intending to be gone 
 forthwith. The Truth is, I were by no means eafy 
 till I had got upon' my Mule, and were gone a good 
 way out of the City. We lay that Night at Orgar, 
 and the Night following at Malagon ; but I were fo 
 overcome with Sleep on my firffc Day's Journey, that 
 I were ready to drop off my Mule Twenty times 
 before I got to my Inn. That Night, Lovç pur- 
 fuing nie wherefoever I went, 1 had a fort of Ad- 
 venture that did not fucceed much better than thofe 
 I had already had. It was with a brisk,buxom,young 
 Wench of a Servant, who neverthelefs feem'd rather 
 a Gentlewoman by her good Mien and Behaviour. 
 She, foon after my Arrival,made me a Thoufand Ad- 
 vances of Love and Kindnefs, which gave me reafon 
 to hope greater Favours from her. This good Will 
 of hers augmented every Moment ; and as we grew 
 better acquainted, flic at length told me, She could 
 not be fo hard-hearted as to let me lie alone. I took 
 care on my Part to leave my Door half open, that 
 Ihe might come in at what Hour ilie judg'd moil 
 convenient • and which ihe might eâfily ao, for I 
 lay in a Ground-Room, that was very remote from 
 any cf the reft in the Houfe. As this new Intrigue 
 did not take up fo much of my Thoughts as my 
 Others had done, I was no fooner laid on my Pillow 
 but I fell heartily a deep, when all of a fudden Ï 
 Was wak'd by a certain Noife I heard in my Cham- 
 ber. ¡ did not doubt but it was the young Wench, 
 andj half a fleep and half awake as I was, I fancied I 
 
 heard 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'AIfarache. 34$ 
 
 heard the rufling of a filk Gown. I call'd fofriy to 
 Jmow who was there, and ask'd, Is it you, Marica ? 
 No Body anfwering, I imagin'd it muft be fhe com- 
 ing flily to iiirprife me, when clapping my felf up- 
 on my Breech, and uttering the fofteft Things I 
 could invent, I grop'd to fee if I could feel and pull 
 her to me. As my Hands were wandering about, 
 they happen'd to light on fomething that was ex- 
 ceeding foft, which frighten'd me at ftrir, tho' it 
 was nothing but an AiTes Ear, who, railing his Head 
 at the fame time, gave me fuch a terrible Douft un- 
 der the Chaps, that he itruck out two of my Teeth, 
 and ftll'd my Mouth with Blood. This made me to 
 baul out as loud as if I had been ítuck, which im- 
 mediately brought my Hoft and Servant into my 
 Chamber with a Light, who were not a little fur- 
 pris'd to find an Afs, that had been drawn thither by 
 the Scent of fome Sacks of Oats placd there the Day 
 before : But they were yet more amaz'd, when they 
 faw me in my Bed all pale and bloody, not being 
 able to imagine how this Difafter happen'd. I fatis- 
 fy'd them the beft I could, yet took Care not to tell 
 them the Truth, that they might not laugh at me, 
 as they were already but too much enclin d to do 
 They quickly thunder'd the great Bead of an Afs 
 out of the Room, and left me to my Repofe ; but, 
 alafs ! I could not fleep, lying curling and (wearing 
 at that treacherous Deity Love almoit all Nighr. 
 refolving never more to be caught by him, or truft 
 to him. 
 
 CHAP* 
 
34¿ The Life and Afîions Part I, 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Guzman tells the meaning of a certain Proverb ♦ 
 and afterwards proceeds to fljew how he was 
 lifted for a Soldier, yet refus d by the Commijfary, 
 He thence takes occapon to refleft on the Abufes 
 of that and other Pojis $ and at lafi comes to 
 Jpeak, of want of Money, and the Confeqttences 
 °f *t. 
 
 SOme time after I had made thefe fine Refolutions, 
 I fell afleep, and flept fo foundry, that I did not 
 wake till much later than I defign'd. My Eyes were 
 no fooner open than I faw the cunning Gipfy of a 
 Servant enter the Room, who prefently began to 
 make a Thoufand Excufes, or rather, to tell me fo 
 many Lies. I would have revengd my felf upon 
 her, and for that purpofe was going to make Friends 
 with her when the curfed Intruder of an Hoft came 
 in and fpoil'd my Sport, telling me my Breakfaft was 
 ready, and the Mules likewiie, and that if I had a 
 mind to get to Malagon in any time, I muft be up and 
 gone quickly. This made me think I mould be un- 
 lucky in whatever I undertook, fince hardly any 
 thing I attempted fucceeded. I breakfafted well, and 
 then mounted my Mule ; but before I got up, the 
 plaguy Bead had like to have ruined me by^ a Kick 
 he made at me, yet which I avoided by being too 
 near him, for he only touch'd me with the upper 
 part of his Leg. I look'd upon this as occafion d by 
 my unlucky Star, which never let me be fuccefsful 
 with any Females. I reveng'd my felf upon this skit- 
 tifh Beaft, by gallopping him as long as I was able. 
 As we rode along, I diverted the Company with my 
 
 Adven- 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'AIfaracha 347 
 
 Adventure of the Ais, while I were waiting for Ma- 
 rica, tho' the Muleteer laugh'd at me, and fo did the 
 jifs-driver, but the former with greater Reafon, foe 
 'twas he was with my Miftrefs while I fo fuffer'd for 
 the want of her. He told me, I was a Novice that 
 did not know that fuch Morfels as the Servant- 
 Maids were for fuch as he, that brought moft profit 
 to the Houfe, and not for fuch Chance-PalTengers 
 as I. That it was they were'al ways beft treated at others 
 Expence, and that the Hoft would be fure to con- 
 tent them, that they might continue to bring Guefts 
 to his Houfe, without 'which he could not live. We 
 got to Malagon by Night, and no other Misfortune 
 befel me for the prefent, except the Lois of a Bottle 
 of excellent Wine which fomebody had ftolen from 
 me, and which made me think of the Proverb, Ma- 
 lagon, en cada Cafa ay un Ladrón, y en la del Alcalde, 
 Hijo y Padre ; which in Englijh is, Malagon has a Thief 
 in every Houfe, and in that of the Alcalde there are two, 
 the Father and Son. I took occafion from hence, to ask 
 the merry-conceited Muleteer what was the Meaning 
 of this Proverb, believing he could fatisfy me, be- 
 caufe he had fo often pafs'd and repafs'd that Way. 
 He acquainted me, there were many Stories told con- 
 cerning it, but what feem'd to him moft juft and rea- 
 fonable, was this. In the Year 1256, when Don Fer- 
 dinand, Surnam'd the Holy, was King of Cafiile and 
 Leon, that Prince being one Day at Beneventum at 
 Dinner, News was brought 1 him that the Chriftiam 
 hadenter'd Gordoua, which was then in the Hands of 
 the Moors, and had already poflefs'd themfelves of 
 the Bulwarks and Towers of the Suburbs, call'dl 
 even to this Day Axarquia, but that they were in 
 danger of being every Moment driven out again by 
 the Moors, who were far more numerous, if they 
 were not fpeedily fuccour'd. Don Ferdinand, anima- 
 ted by his Zeal for Religion, and the very Name of 
 a Chriftian, did not long confider what Courfe he 
 
 was 
 
348 The Life and Aiïions Part I. 
 
 was beft to take, but even with thofe few Troops that 
 were with him, took a Refolution to fct out in three 
 Days towards the Relief of thofe brave Chriftians, 
 left they might otherwife fuffer for want of being 
 aflifted, and lofe that great Advantage they had got. 
 Don Alvaro Perez de Cafiro, and Don Ordonio Alvarez, 
 who both were at Marts, having notice of what had 
 pafs'd at Cordoua, went and offer'd their Services to 
 the King, carrying with them many other Valiant 
 and Noble Cavaliers. Thefe two Lords were at 
 that time the greateft at the Cafiilian Court. The 
 King, greatly rejoic'd at their coming, fet out as he 
 had determine, tho 5 it was in the depth of Winter, 
 being the 31ft of January, for he had not heard this 
 News till the 28th. His Majefty's Army made to- 
 gether not above 200 Men that were fit to fight, but 
 he fent to his Vaffals to join him every where, and 
 order'd all fuch of his Troops as were in any Towns, 
 Cities or Villages, to defile towards Cordoua. All 
 thefe Orders were difpers'd with great Diligence, 
 and they might have been accordingly executed ; but 
 there happen'd to fall fo much Snow, and fo great 
 Rains, that the Rivers and Springs over-flowing every 
 where, it was impoflîble for any Troops to pafs, io 
 that not being able to move any farther, they were 
 oblig'd to ftay where they were. There were fome 
 of thefe Troops that quartered in Malagon, which was 
 at that time a coniiderable Town, and had a good 
 Country for Forage round it. Every Houfe had a 
 Soldier in it, and fome of the Principal Burghers 
 had two. Among thefe was reckon'd the Alcalde, 
 who, in conjunción with his Son, had the Command 
 of thefe Troops. As it was a very hard Winter, Pro- 
 vifions, confidering the Numbers that were in that 
 Town, became exceeding fcarce, infomuch that at 
 length there was a kind of Famine. This lafting 
 longer than the Soldiers expeófced, they wanting 
 Money to buy NeceiTaries, which were at exceilîve 
 
 Rates, 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 34^ 
 
 Rates, began to rob and ileal, to prevent their dying 
 with Hunger. A Peafant happening to pafs thro' 
 their Hands, and going afterwards to Orgaz,, met a 
 Friend of his upon the Road, who asking him what 
 News at Malagon, from whence he knew he came, he 
 made him the aforefaid Anfvver, which afterwards 
 became a Proverb. Now, proceeded the Muleteer, 
 it is moil unjuft that this Proverb iliould be applied 
 to the Inhabitants of Mai agon, fince they were the 
 Perfons robb'd, and not thoie that robb'd others. On 
 the contrary, to make them Amends, it may well be 
 faid and maintain d, that this is the Place, through- 
 out ill the Road from Madrid to Sevil, where PaiTen- 
 g'vs are the beft entertain'd, and at the moft reafo- 
 mble Rates. Not that I will fay there are no Vil- 
 lanies committed here, for every Country has its 
 Rogues, and fo no doubt has this. 
 
 Whilft we were difcourfing in this manner to di- 
 vert our felves, an Acquaintance of our Muleteers, 
 who was juft come from Almagro, came to us, and 
 told us there was a Company of Soldiers, newly 
 rais'd, who were juft upon their March for the Medi- 
 terranean Sea, where he believ'd they would embark. 
 This News pleas'd me exceedingly, inibmuch that 
 I began to fancy, that Fortune, tho' ihe had bandy 'd 
 me about from Place to Place, and from one Misfor- 
 tune to another, would at length lead me, as it were 
 by the Hand, to my defired Port, for nothing could 
 have happen'd more pat to my Purpofe than tht go- 
 ing of this Company, which was ail I had for a long 
 time fought after. This comforted me in an Inftanc 
 for all my pail Follies and Misfortunes. I had no 
 Reafon to doubt of this News as foon as ever I came 
 to Almagro, for I happen'd to pafs by the very Door 
 where the Captain of this Company lodg'd, and 
 whole Colours hung out at the Window. The Mu- 
 leteer carried me to a Lodging hard by, and that 
 Night I had nothing to do but to reft my Feif. Next 
 
 Mor- 
 
3 5 ó» The Ufe and Anions Part t 
 
 Morning, having drefs'd my felf handfomly, I went 
 to hear Mafs, and meeting the Captain there, fa- 
 luted him, and told him, 1 was juit come to Almagró 
 to have the Honour to ferve the King under his Com- 
 mand. He feeing me fo well equipp'd, and with a 
 Servant that look'd alfo well, took me for a young 
 Perfon of Quality, and accordingly receiv'dme with 
 all poffible Honours and Refped, which he knew 
 well how to pay, being a Cavalier of extraordinary 
 Breeding. He teftifted to me at firft, the Joy he had 
 at my Arrival, and that I was difpos'd to honour his 
 Company with my Perfon, acquainting me, that tho' 
 all his Commiffion-Officers were fix'd, yet I might 
 always ihare with him in that of Captain. So great 
 Civilities from a Perfon, to whom I was altogether 
 unknown, charm'd me exceedingly, and made me 
 conceive a Pleafure in the Employment I was going 
 to embark in, which I had never dreamt of. He 
 oblig'd me from that Day forward to dine with him 
 every Day, and having enquir'd of my Servant who 
 I was, he found he was not miftaken, for he had told 
 him my Name was Don Juan de Guzman, of the Fa- 
 mily of Toral, which was the Name and Quality I 
 had aifum'd at Toledo, and that was all my Servant 
 knew of me. The Captain treated me extreamly 
 well, and very heartily, and after Dinner lifted me 
 of the Company in the ufual Form. The next Day 
 1 would needs treat my Captain at Dinner, and I ac- 
 quitted my felf as I ought, but it did not a little lighten 
 my Purfe. All this however was nothing, and I 
 might have done well enough if I had ftop'd here ; 
 but I rauft game, forfooth, as great People are wont 
 to do, and that with Officers who knew better what 
 belong'd to it than my felf. In a Word, I generally 
 loft, and how I wonder ihould I do otherwife, 
 when I knew little or nothing of the Matter. I 
 were always very good at Reflétions when there 
 was no occafion for them, but in Cafe of Neceílity, 
 
 **# the 
 
Book II. of Guzman d s Alfarach¿ 35? 
 
 the Impetuofity of my Humour ever got the Vi&ory 
 over my weak Reasoning. I thought as long as I 
 was a Soldier, and the Captain's Favourite, I could 
 want for nothing. I fancied, the Company did not 
 look upon me as a Fellow-Soldier, but as their Cap- 
 tain-Lieutenant ; I made my Captain Prefents from 
 time to time to fecure his Favour, and would often 
 treat both him and his Officers at an exceilive Ex- 
 pence. By thefe means, my Purfe, having no Flux 
 and Reflux like the Sea, began to diminiih exceed- 
 ingly, and fo continu'd to do, I being in no Way, 
 but this laft poor One, of getting a Penny. At 
 length the Mufter came on, and the Soldiers being 
 to go in at one Door of a Church, and out at ano- 
 ther, in order to be examin'd, when it came to my 
 Turn the CommiiTary would not país me, becauie I 
 was too young. I might be angry if I pleas'd, and 
 norm as much as I would, and the Captain might 
 talk as big as he thought fit, for the CommiiTary was 
 refolv'd to perfift in his Refolution. All the Reafon 
 lie would give, was, that he had Orders and In- 
 ftruétions to that purpofe ; but I wifli he would have 
 always kept to thofe Orders and Inftru&ions. Some- 
 times I'm fure he mov'd excentrically, and follow'd 
 the Biafs of a Self-interefted Inclination. But I had 
 no Remedy but Patience in this Cafe, tho' my Con- 
 cern and Confufion appear'd fufficiently in my Face. 
 I went home, and the Captain was lb kind as to 
 come and fee me, and comfort me, telling me,I mould 
 go along with him to Italy for all this ; where we 
 ihould be no iboner landed, but he would make ufe of 
 his Friends to procure me a Colours. I thank'd him 
 heartily as became me, and having experience fo 
 many Civilities and good Offices from this generous 
 Commander, I could not think my felf lels happy, 
 fince I was fo much in his good Graces, than if I 
 had obtain'd this noble Employment of a Foot-Sol- 
 dicr. I have a good mind to difcourfe here of the 
 
 ill 
 
3Ç2 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 ill Ufage of brave Fellows that have engag d them-- 
 felves betimes in the Army, and always fought va- 
 liantly for the good of their Country. When they 
 h$ve done all, I fay, they muft at laft be fubjeóled 
 to the Caprices of thefe Commiifaries, or fome fuch- 
 like Upftarts, whom they left Footmen, or at beft 
 Valet de Chambres, when they went to take leave of 
 the Prime Miniiler, or other Great Man, to go into 
 the Field. Yet fliall it be at the Pleafure of thefe 
 Wretches, who know nothing of the Matter, tho* 
 they pretend to know fo much, to fnub and controul 
 thefe old Officers and Soldiers, becaufe they have 
 not Hearts bafe enough to make court to fuch vile 
 Earth-Worms, whofe Knowledge extends no farther 
 than to filling their Purfes, and wronging the moil 
 deferving Men. When I confider'd all this, I thought, 
 the Perfon that prefer'd them to thefe Polls of Au- 
 thority could never have rightly inform'd himfelf,, 
 either of their Abilities or Integrity, but muft have 
 fuffer'd himfelf to be entirely guided by Intérêt and 
 Favour when he exalted fuch worthlefs Creatures. 
 Thus I was tempted to think all was corrupted, even 
 from the Prime Miniiler to the meaneft Commiffary. 
 And what mould be the meaning of all this, but 
 that every Body minds his own particular Intereft 
 whiift he neglects that of the Publick, and which is 
 the common Source of moil Mifcarriages and Male- 
 Adminiilrations. It often happens, that as there are 
 more Miniilers than one that have their different 
 Provinces affignd them, he that ads in one in ibme 
 particular Cafe, (hall have for Enemies all the reft, 
 who, perhaps, have nothing to do ; and this becaufe 
 they can't endure that he alone mould be talk'd of, 
 and engrofs the Favour of the Prince. What will 
 they do then to right thcmfelves ? Why, they will 
 endeavour to ruin him that has acquitted himfelt fo 
 well of his Duty, and been the Caufe of all their 
 Difcontent, They will fpread falfe Reporcs çoncern- 
 
 »\ *»S 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 353 
 
 • ing him amongft the People, and do their belt to 
 render him odious both to them and his Prince, cf 
 whom, neverthelefs, he has To well deferv'd. They 
 will fpeak no 111 of him thenifelves, but rather all the 
 Good they can, and difowri any Malice againft him 
 Whenever they are charg'd u*ith ic - y yet which they 
 do with Co dubious an Air, as ferves fooner to make 
 them difcredited than behev'd. At the fame time, 
 tho' they will not fhew thenifelves openly, they fhali 
 employ their little Emiifarics and Creatures to do him 
 ail the ill Offices they can, both with Prince and 
 People. They will, in a Word, lay a thoufand 
 Snares for him, and do all that in them lies to make 
 his Defigns mifcarry, altho' they be nothing but 
 what tend purely to the Service of thçir Prince and 
 Country, fot which they feldom or never trouble 
 their Heads about. If there be any of thcfe Mini- 
 Iters that lords it over the reft, either thro' the In- 
 tereft he has got in his Mailer, or the Authority he 
 has acquir'd infenfibly in all manner of Affairs, what 
 Inconveniencies do not arife from thence, what Abufes, 
 what Diforders ! What ihali not this Favourite- Mi- 
 nuter do to fubjec"r. his Brethren to his Power, and 
 make them acknowledge, that both their good or ill 
 Fortune àbfolutely depends on his Pleafure ! \v"hat 
 ihall there pais in the World that he will not have a 
 Share in ? It is he that declares War, and that often- 
 times purely to gratify his private Intereil, that he 
 may have âri Opportunity to advance his Creatures, 
 crowd his Coffers, or deftroy fome Perfons he bears 
 Ill-will to, by expofing them to lome dangerous 
 Poft. It is thus, for the moil part, a Prince is lerv'd, 
 and his poor Subjects abus'd. It is thus, I fay, the 
 Publick Treafure is mifemploy'd, and the State ruin'd, 
 by unnecelfary Expences. You mail have whole 
 Armies rais'd to do nothing but devour the publick 
 Provifions, which, perhaps, the People have more 
 occafion for, thro' the great Scarcity introduce 
 
 A a amoiï-? 
 
354 Ffc Ltf e an ¿ Anions Part L 
 
 among them by immoderate Taxes. A thoufand 
 other Misfortunes there are that accrue to a Coun- 
 try by bad Minifters. Thus the Affairs of the 
 World for the moil part go, and he mull be more 
 than ordinary skilful that knows how to remedy 
 them. This is alfo what makes a great many 
 brave Spirits lofe their Courage, who not being 
 willing to owe their Fortune to any thing but their 
 Virtue or their Merit, find themfelves oftentimes 
 flighted and contemn d, becaufe they have not ta- 
 ken the ready way to Preferment, by flattering and 
 bribing thefe Prime Minifters. The Spaniards, who 
 above all People are the unfitted for thefe fort of 
 fervile Complaifances, think they purchafe this Fa- 
 vour very dear when they die of their Wounds, in- 
 fomuch that, being difguíled againil the Trade of 
 War, they are no longer what they have been for- 
 merly. In former Times their Name alone fought 
 and conquer'd • they made the whole Earth tremble, 
 of which they were almoil the Mailers. Now it is 
 no more the fame Thing ; they are fo fallen from 
 their former Condition, that now they are more 
 ready to tremble themfelves, than make others do 
 fo, as feeing their Empire like to fall to Pieces every 
 Moment. Neverthelels, in the main, they are ilill 
 what they ever have been, that is, bold, couragious 
 and refolute, as any People in the World. May 
 Heaven pleafe to reform thofe Perfons that have the 
 cognifance of thefe Matters, and all will go well. 
 Ï have but too many Examples of the Mifchiefs that 
 ariie to a State from the too great Favour of certain 
 People, who are neverthelefs generally hated. Ha- 
 tred produces Envy, Envy DiiTention, and Diffen- 
 tion a general Diforder in all Things. But I'l fay no 
 inore on this Head for the prefent, defigning to re- 
 lume it again hereafter as I fhall find occafion. 
 
 I return now to my Captain,: who after having 
 loaded me with Civilities and Profeffions of Friend- 
 
 ihip, 
 
Book II. of Guzman d 9 AIfarach¿ 355 
 
 ihip, left me j in order to go home to his Houfe. I 
 would fain have waited on him, but he would by no 
 means fuffer me. The Company march'd two or 
 three Days after, and I along with them, in quality 
 of a Volunteer. We made no nop till we got to the 
 Sea-fide, where we had Orders to embark ; but we 
 muíl nevertheleís flay for the Gallies that were to 
 tranfport us, which were not yet arriv'd, and which 
 did not come in lefs than three Months after, fo well 
 the Orders had been obferv'd. In the mean time the 
 Captain ftill preferv'd his firil Kindnefs for me, but 
 the Honour he did me, tho' it puft up my Heart, 
 made my Purfe to grow lank, infomuch, that con- 
 tinuing to lead the Life I had formerly led, I fooa 
 found my felf not able to fupport it any longer. My 
 Condition grew worfe and worfe every Day, and at 
 length I became lb reduc'd, that I durft not appear 
 any more. Having no Money to game, to what 
 purpofe, thought I, mould I come abroad ; there- 
 fore I confina my felf to my Cell, and liv'd as fpa-. 
 ringly as I could upon that Little I had left. Ï had 
 already parted with my Servant, who began to be 
 an Encumbrance to me. This indeed gave but an ill 
 Opinion of my Circumitances, and Time to come 
 altogether confirm'd it. Reflections now came thick 
 upon me when there was no Remedy. As long as 
 my Money lafted I never gave way to them, but as 
 foon as it was gone I entertain d them very freely., 
 I was confeious of the Follies I had committed, and 
 blam'd only my felf. Then came Reproaches upon 
 Reproaches, but to little purpofe fince the Time 
 was pair. I refolv'd to manage my Money better 
 when I got any more, but, alafs ! it was uncertain 
 when I íhould have any more to manage. I had 
 abus'd my good Fortune, and might wait long e- 
 nough before I had any fuch again. I was now fen- 
 fible, I had run into Extravagancies I might very 
 well have efcap'd. Fine Cloaths, a Foot-Boy, and 
 
 A a 2 the; 
 
3 5¿ The Ufe and Aftiom Part I. 
 
 the like, were not only imprudent, but unprofitable 
 Expences to me ; and fince I had known this Cap- 
 tain, I had confum'd a good deal in Treats and Pre- 
 fents y but to what purpofe ? Now my Money was 
 gone, perhaps he would regard me no longer, and 
 io in effeft I found it, for he did not invite me to 
 Dinner, as ufual, now, when I had moft occafion for 
 it. 'Tis thus young Fellows, fuch as I, pay dear for 
 their Pleafures. I was almoft ready to run mad 
 when I reflected upon my Extravagancies. I found, 
 that as good a Reputation as I had got in the Com- 
 pany while my Money lafted, I fhould not fail ta lofe 
 it now it was gone. My Friends I had procur'd by 
 this means, began now to forfake and flight me. 
 Their Friendihip grew cold as my Stock leffen'd, 
 and now I was ready to borrow of thofe whom 1 had 
 formerly lent generoufly. They would lend me in- 
 deed for once, but when I came again, I met with 
 nothing but pitiful Excufes. Not a Man would look 
 on me twice ¿ nay, even fome that had been more 
 than ordinarily oblig'd to me. Thefe frighted the 
 reft, and, in a Word, every Body avoided me. One 
 would have thought I had had the Plague, for fcarce 
 any Body would come near me. Neceflîty, indeed, 
 is Plague enough, and fufficient to make every Body 
 fly one. Even Bailiffs would not keep me Company 
 now, tho' they formerly came Cap in Hand to be 
 employ 'd by me. The Black-guard only ftuck by 
 me, who would willingly have had me of their Fra- 
 ternity, if I could have taken up with Co vile a Pro- 
 feffion. Thus, by a juft Judgment, I was puniíh'd 
 as I deferv'd, andrcduc'd to my former Condition. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
Boot II. of Guzman d'Alfarache.' 357 
 
 CHAP. x. 
 
 Guznsatl fets forth the Difadvantages of one that 
 is decaf d in hk Fortune, and how difficult it k 
 for an honejl Man to gehinto any Employment, 
 He acquaints you, how he fupplied hk Captains 
 NeceJJities by his Rogueries 5 and afterwards, 
 how he came with him to Genoa, where he dif- 
 chargd him, notwit h (landing hk former Services, 
 tneerly becaufi of the Dangers he expos 'd him 
 to. 
 
 ON E Thing, however, comforted me in this de- 
 plorable and comfortlefs Condition, and that 
 was, that during all my good Days I had liv'd fo, 
 chat no Body could have an ill Opinion of me, nor 
 believe me capable of an ill Adion, for I had never 
 been feen to do any thing but what was honourable 
 and honeft. This ierv'd me in great {lead, efpecially 
 with my Captain, who {till retaind fome Kindneis 
 for me, tho' he did not invite me fo often.-âs he us'd 
 to do to Dinner. His Fortune was not much better 
 than mine, for being likewife redue'd by unwary 
 Living, he was for'd to live by his Wits ; therefore 
 I could not but be a little burdenfome to him. If he 
 had known my Talent for aflîfting him, he, perhaps, 
 would have lik'd me better. I went often to fee him 
 out of Civility, and he always receiv'd me very- 
 kindly, never making the leaft Reflection upon my 
 Condition. I appear'd nothing near fo pleafant as 
 I us'd to be, nor carried my ielf fo haughtily as I 
 had formerly done, but which was rather $ffedation 
 than my Natural Temper. I had, for a long time, 
 
 A a 2 known 
 
3 s 8 7fo I//e and Aft ions Part I. 
 
 known what it was to have Nothing, therefore that 
 was not capable of making any Alteration in me. 
 But I believ'd it was becoming fuch a Man as I would 
 be thought to be, to feem lenfibly touch'd with his 
 Condition, and would have People imagine I con- 
 ceal'd my Affliction with greater Artifice than I 
 really did, which I fancied would make me more 
 efteem'd. It becomes no Body to be too proud or 
 foppifli, but lefs furé te Perfon under Circumftances, 
 than another, who is in no fear of Want. The for- 
 mer is like a Camelion, that never fwallows any 
 thing but Air; and the latter fliews himfelf no lefs 
 a Sot by his foolifli Behaviour, tho' he has where- 
 withall to fill his Belly fubftantially. Modefty at 
 this time had taken up its Quarters with me, and, 
 in truth, it fate eafily upon me. My Captain, who 
 believ'd I fuffer'd exceedingly, admir'd me greatly,, 
 and could not forbear at length giving me to un- 
 deritand, how much he was concern'd that it was not 
 in his Power to fupply my Wants, at that Juncture 
 efpecially. He own'd he had receiv'd a great many 
 Civilities from me, and would have been glad of 
 that Occafion of making me fome Returns ; but in 
 regard he was utterly incapacitated, he hop'd I 
 would not take it amifs if he offer'd me to come 
 that eat and lodge with his Servants, for, as to him- 
 felf, lie was oblig'd to retrench his own Table, and 
 get a Dinner where he could. He proffer'd this 
 with fome fort of Confufion, not being able to do 
 more for me; butas he tender'd it in fuch an obliging 
 manner, and wich all the feeming fmcerity and mo- 
 defty in the Worl4> I could not refufe to accept of 
 it, and fo from his Companion I became little lefs than 
 his Menial Servant; yet was there fome Deference paid 
 me by his Order, tho', in reality, I far'd no better 
 than the reft. I did him what Service I was able, be- 
 caufe { would not eat his Bread for nothing, and that I 
 might the better preferve his Friendfliip. I though^ 
 
 how- 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 359 
 
 however, this would laft no longer than till I got to 
 Genoa, for there I hop'd for Recruits, yet ftill ic 
 was an Advantage that I could get thicher in fpite 
 of my ill Fortune, or rather my ill Conducir. 
 
 As I was every Day for doing every thing that 
 might gain his Affection more and more, he put fo 
 great Confidence in me, that believing me to be dif- 
 creet, tho' I was really not fo, in regard to my felf 
 efpecially, he refolv'd to acquaint me with his Affairs, 
 which indeed were fuch, that he knew not where to 
 lay his Head. He own'd to me, that he had not a 
 Penny of Money, and that all his Hopes lay in a few 
 Stones and Jewels that he had ftill remaining, which, 
 neverthelefs, were not fufficient to pay off half he 
 ow'd. He told me, what had reduc'd him to this Ex- 
 tremity was, the long Delays he had met with in 
 getting his Employment, and the great Prefents he 
 ad made to Perfons in Power, tho', one would have 
 thought, his Merit of Twenty Years Service might 
 have been fufficient to have obtain'd it. He faid, it 
 was impoflSble to gueis what Charges he had been at 
 in his feveral Solicitations, and how many mean 
 Things he was oblig'd to do, nay, cringe to the 
 vileft Servants, before he could have the lead Hopes. 
 He acquainted me, how he was forc'd to run about 
 from this Perfon of Quality to that from Morning 
 till Night, make Reverences to this Valet de Chambre, 
 and that Groom, and pay the profoundeft Refpecl: to 
 the Mailer of them. He faid, he was oblig'd to fol- 
 low him, wait upon him forwards and backwards, 
 always with his Hat in his Hand, and his Legs ready 
 to run wherever he mould command him. Whenever 
 ÏIQ but faw him thro* a Window, he muft be ready 
 with a profound Bow ; and if he but fpy'd him croîs 
 a Court, or had but the Happinefs to be ask'd by 
 him what 'twas a Clock, he muft believe there could 
 l?e nothing more fortunate to him. In a Word, this 
 Captain gave me fo lively, but fo lamentable, a Cha- 
 
 A a a ra&cr 
 
3 ¿o The Ufe and Anions Part \. 
 
 radier of thefe Minifters, that nothing could be 
 more touching. He added to it, a fmall Accident that 
 had like to have been his Ruin. He faid, the Night 
 before he was to have had his Commiiïîon, after he 
 had danc'd Attendance 8 or 9 Months, going tó 
 wait on this Minifter to his Coach as he came out 
 of the Court, and happening to clap his Hat on but 
 a Moment before the Coach went away, this haughty 
 Grandee was fo offended at it, that he made hjrri ftay 
 for his Difpatch above 4 Months longer, and he was 
 like to have gone without it at laft, had he not ma4e 
 good Friends. 
 
 God deliver me from fucb an Union as that of Power 
 and bad Conditions ! 'Tis a miferable Part chefe Idols of 
 the Court act, demanding a fort of Adoration while 
 they are Men as well as we, and, perhaps, worfq 
 Men than we are. Deprive them but of their Em- 
 ploys, and you'l find, that, like Comedians, they 
 are nothing lefs than what they appear to be. Re- 
 member Mr. Prime Minifter, tho* you hold your 
 Headfo high now, a Grave waits for you as well as 
 it does for me, and, perhaps, you may fooner come 
 to 'Duft than my Woríhip. The Comedy of the 
 World, is already regulated, a new one will not be 
 (nade for you. Nothing here is eternal, every Thing 
 muil pafs away, and your Honour as well as the reft. 
 What a pity 'tis that thefe great Lords mould know 
 themfelves'fo little: that they mould think their 
 Bellies, are large enough to contain all the Water in 
 the Sea '■ Let them feed upon their Qreatnefs as if it 
 were always to laffc ; and let them carry themfeJves 
 proudly, ás if Death had forgot them. God be 
 prais'd tha-t there is a God, and be his Mercy for 
 ever bleifcd, in that he has been pleas'd to appoint 
 himfelf a Day wherein he will judge all the World 
 according to 'choir Works. 
 
Bpofc II. of ¡Guzman d'Alfarache. 3Í1 
 
 I was, in truths more touch'd with this lamentable 
 Relation rf my Captains, than I could pofïîbly be 
 with my own Misfortunes; but ftill his great Kind- 
 neis for me, upon this extraordinary Occaiion, mov'd 
 me yet more. There was nothing but what I would 
 have done for him, to have deliver'd him from his 
 Troubles. I gave him to underftand as much, in the 
 mqít forcible manner I could exprefs it, and told him, 
 if my Life only were to be expos'd in ferving him, 
 I fhould not think I ventur'd too much, after the many 
 Obligations I had receiv'd at his Hands. I acquain- 
 ted him I was young, and had not Teen much of the 
 World, yet Neceiîîty and fome Wit had fupply'd my 
 Want of Experience. I told him moreover, I would 
 fee what I could do for him, but however he might 
 ^ways depend on my Fidelity and good Intentions, 
 ne exprefs'd himfelf extreamly oblig'd to me for the 
 Zeal I ihew'd to ferve him; and having embrac'd me 
 heartily, told me, imiling, he did not doubt of my 
 Sincerity, but could not imagine what Service I could 
 do him in the Condition I was in. I replied, Good 
 Wifhes were not enough for me, and that if he 
 would fuffer me to a&, we would live well, at leaft, 
 till better Times came. He fmil'd again, and faid 
 no more; but, as he knew. me not, he quickly found 
 I was able to do him more Service than he thought 
 for. 5 Tis true, I did Wonders to oblige him. The 
 G allies that were to tranfport us with other Troops 
 being a long while a coming, we were quartered in 
 the circumjacent Villages, and we chang'd our Quar- 
 ters frequently. That gave me occafion to make my 
 firft Advantage. I gave out a dozen of Billets upon 
 every Houfe, of which, the leafl was worth to me 
 Five Francs, and fome of the better fort Fifteen. For 
 my own part, I lodged no where but at Free-coir 
 and where I had my Hands at liberty. I would have 
 been contented with Water out of the Well, rather 
 than gone away empty. My Captain needed not to 
 
3¿¿ The Life and Anions Part I 
 
 go out of Doors for good Cheer, nor be at any Ex- 
 pence for't. I furniih'd him with every Thine, as 
 well Capons, Pullets, Geefe, Pigeons, and the like, 
 as with good Gammons of Bacon, and other ex- 
 quifite Diflies. I never kept ought for my felf, but 
 íacrific'd all to him, íb true I was to him. If by 
 chance I were caught in the Fa¿fc, and could not deny 
 it, in cafe it were a fmall Thing I made a Jell of it and, 
 if a greater, the worit could happen to me was to be 
 carried before my Captain, who would reprimand me 
 feverely, and fometimes confine me in a Chamber 
 for two or three Days. If the Theft was of any great 
 Confequence, he was ford to give me the Laíh, or, 
 at leaft, pretend to do ib, to iatisfy the Complainants, 
 when I would cry and roar out as if I had been flea'd, 
 tho', in truth, he never touch'd me. Other Puni%- 
 ments of the like Nature he pretended to give me, 
 to content the wrong'd Parties, and fave the Honour 
 of the Officer. I had fometimes Friends that came 
 to intercede for me, but my Captain always appear'd 
 inexorable, fo ñriá a Difcipline he feem'd to ob- 
 ferve. When we were alone, we did nothing but 
 laugh at thefe Fools, who fuffer'd themfelves to be 
 made fuch Bubbles of. From thefe fmall Things, 
 we at laft ventur'd upon greater, which was, to go 
 on the Highway, and feife whatever Booty we 
 could meet with. I had always five or fix lufty Fel- 
 lows of our Company along with me, who would 
 not be baffled for a fmall Matter. We were difguis'd, 
 and therefore could not be eafily known. But at 
 length, our Captain thought this a dangerous Game, 
 and therefore forbid us to play any more at it. As 
 for Falfe-Mufters, I had a Trick for that, for by 
 means of a different Peruke, or by placing a 
 black Patch, I would make the fame Soldier pafs for 
 feveral, and fo brought fo many Men's Pay into my 
 Captain's Pocket. He quickly found what a Con- 
 veniency he had in me, and that I alone was worth 
 
 more 
 
Book II. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 3^3 
 
 more than his whole Company to him, for in all his 
 March from Almagro, he had not got fo much as by 
 my fingle Induftry. But he was one who fpent a 
 great deal -, and let me get what I would, at never 
 10 great Hazard and Care, he laviih'd it away upon 
 the firft Woman or Man he met that he lik'd. 
 
 The Gallies being at length arriv'd at Barcelona, we 
 had Orders to embark upon the firft fair Wind. As 
 this was not a Country that could always find us with 
 good Cheer, my Captain found himfelf foon a- 
 ground. He had no Pay remitted him, as was the 
 good and ancient Cuftom of Spain, but muft wait 
 till he came to Italy for that. Bills of Exchange 
 and He had no goodUnderilanding together, yet he 
 muft live in the mean time, but how, he did not 
 know. I obferv'd him to be melancholy, vex'd, and 
 out of humour, and I was very forry to fee it ; but 
 as I was a Phyiician that knew his Diftemper at firft 
 Sight, I told him for his Comfort, tho' I had never 
 been in this City before, and knew not the Plan of 
 it, yet he ihould fee I would do fomething in it, 
 thro' Induftry, that ihould redound to his Profit. 
 He told me, we had no more to do with Peafants, 
 and I muft take Care what I did. Now you muft 
 know, among thofe Stones and Jewels which I have 
 acquainted you he had, there was a Gold Reliquary, 
 or Cafe for Reliques, all fet round with fmall Dia- 
 monds. It was very fine, and well made, and he de- 
 fign'd to difpofe of it for Subfiftence till fuch time 
 as he embark'd. I defir'd him to lhew it me, and 
 ask'd him, if he could have fo much Confidence in 
 me, as to let me have it for two or three Days, and I 
 would reftore it to him again with Intereft. He an- 
 fwer'd, after he had entruftedme with his Reputation, 
 he could not refi_fe me fuch a Thing, tho' it was worth 
 Ten times more than it was ; but he faid, he fear'd I 
 would engage in fome Piece of Roguery or other, 
 that neither his Reputation nor mine would be able 
 
 to 
 
3¿4 ÏÏ ,e Life <tnd Allions Part I. 
 
 to free me from. I beg'd him only to truft that to 
 me, and I would bear all the Blame, without doing 
 the leaft Injury to his Honour. Hereupon he left 
 me to do as I would, not being able to forbear laugh- 
 ing; yet told me, if I had any Knavery in my 
 Head, he would advife me to take my Meafures right, 
 that 1 might bring him his Reliquary again, in cafe I 
 did not fucceed. I defir'd him not to doubt of that, 
 for I would be fure to take Care ; fo having the 
 Jewel deliver'd to me, which was in a Purfe, I put it 
 in my Bofom, and ty'd the Strings to the Buttons 
 of my Doublet. This done, I went to the firft 
 Goldfmith I could meet, who was an old Ufu- 
 rer, and known for fuch throughout the whole 
 City. Asking him if he would buy a very fine Reli- 
 quary ; he defir'd to fee it. I open'd the Purfe and íhew'd 
 it him, and h£ Kk'd it very well. He then began to 
 enquire of me who I was, and what I did at Bar- 
 celona. I acquainted him, I was come thither with a 
 Company of Soldiers that were going for Italy, and* 
 that I came from Almagro. I told him, that having 
 fpent all my Money, and only this Jewel left, I hacî 
 kept it for a Referve to furniih me with ÍSÍeceíTaries 
 before I went on board ; that if he pleas'd, he might 
 enquire after me of the Captain, or any of the 
 Officers belonging to the Company^ that my Name 
 was Don Juan de Guzman, and that if he heard fuch 
 a Character of me as he could venture to buy my 
 Jewel, he might come and find me upon the Key, 
 whither I was going to fpeak with a Perfon of my 
 Acquaintance about fome earneft Bufineis. My Man 
 accepted my Propofal, and haftening immediately to 
 the Place where we lodg'd, did not fail to inform 
 himfelf concerning me, both of the Officers and 
 Soldiers. He had' a good Account of me you may 
 be fure, for he prefently came to look for me upon 
 the Key, and had no great Difficulty to find me, for 
 X had no other Bufinefs there, but to wait for, and 
 
 trapan 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfarache. 3^5 
 
 trapan him. He told me as foon as he came up, he 
 was come to treat with me about my Reliquary, and 
 defir'd to fee it again. I gave it into his Hand, but 
 beg'd of him to retire a little, that People might not 
 fee what we were doing, and get about us. He con- 
 fented, and having confider'd it, by turning it up and 
 down and every way, he ask'd me what I would have 
 for it. I told him, 200 Crowns, which was not, ne- 
 verthelefs, near what it was worth, as I had been in- 
 form'd by thofe that knew as well as he. He feem'd 
 however furpris'd at my Demand, and told me, it 
 was not made of good Gold, and endeavour'd to 
 íhew me feveral Defeds, as well in the Workmanihip, 
 as in the Stones : In a Word, he ofFer'd me half what 
 I ask'd. I told him, I had occafion for Money, and 
 therefore, if he lik'd it at if o Crowns, he might have 
 it, and not under. He made a great many more 
 Cavils and Difputes, but at laft he agreed to give me 
 400 Francs for it. He would have had me gone 
 along with him to his Shop to receive the Money, 
 but I told him that could not be, becaufe I waited 
 there for a Friend, as I had acquainted him ; and 
 that, if he pleas'd, he might fetch the Money, and 
 he mould find me there, or thereabouts. This trou- 
 bled him a little, for he would have been very glad 
 to have paid me at home, and befides, he fear'd this 
 Friend of mine might be a Goldfmith, who might, 
 in his _ Abfence, buy his Bargain out of his Hands, 
 by giving me a Trifle more, for he knew the Jewel 
 was worth twice as much as he was to give me for 
 it. This made him run away immediately to fetch 
 the Money, and in the mean time I got a Comrade 
 of mine, as great a Rogue as my felf, to be near me, 
 that I might employ him as foon as I had occafion 
 for him. My Merchant returns quite out of Breath 
 and all in a Sweat. He had the Money in Gold in 
 a Bag, which having told me out, I gave him the 
 &d¡<¡uarj. I defir'd the Bag of him, and proffer'd 
 
 the 
 
'$66 The Ufe and Anions Part I. 
 
 the Purfe in lieu of it, which was worth a great deal 
 more. He conferred with great Willingnefs. Ha- 
 ving put up my Money in the Bag, I feem'd to find a 
 great deal of Difficulty in undoing the Strings of my 
 Purfe, which I had tied to the Buttons of my Dou- 
 blet. Seeing a Knife in a Sheath by his Side, I 
 thro' impatience fhatch'd it out, and cut the Strings, 
 by which means I got the Purfe loofe. I gave it 
 him, and he having no more to do, pull'd off his 
 Hat and departed. He was no fooner gone, but I 
 made a Sign to my Comrade to come up and take 
 the Money, bidding him give it to the Captain, and 
 tell him I would be fpeedily with him with the 
 Jewel. This done, I march a as fail as I could after 
 my Goldfmith, for I had not loft Sight of him, and 
 foon came up with him ; for having made a Bargain 
 as he could wifh, he walk'd leifurely along without 
 thinking any thing. It happen'd to be in a Place 
 where there was a Company of Soldiers juft drawn 
 up, when making ufe of the Occafion, I began to 
 cry out as loud as I could baul, Stop Thief, ftop Thief ! 
 Fellow-Soldiers and Comrades, ftop that old Thief 
 there, who has robb'd me of my Captains Reliquary, 
 which he took from me by force. The Soldiers 
 knowing me to be of that Company that was going 
 for Italy, and hearing me cry after that manner, and 
 feeing me ihed fome Tears befides, thought there 
 muft be fomething in the Matter, and therefore 
 quickly ftop'd the Man, asking him why he would 
 wrong fuch a young Lad as I was. I wrong him, 
 faid;the Goldfmith ! io furpris'd,that he could hardly 
 fpeak, I have done him no Wrong. Then I began 
 to tell them, quice out of Breath as I was, Ah, Gentle- 
 men, he's a Thief, an old Rogue, have pity upon me, and 
 fo falling down on my Knees, I fo wrought upon them, 
 that they continually ask'd me what was the Matter, 
 and would then turn to the Merchant, and ask him 
 angrily the fame Queftion. He would have fpoke, butl 
 
 **♦ inter- 
 
Pol. I 
 
 p. )S6 
 
Book IL of Guzman d'Alfaracha 3Í7 
 
 interrupted him; and well knowing what Advantage 
 he has that fpeaks firft, I open'd and told them, My 
 Captain, whom they all knew, having left by chance 
 his Reliquary at his Beds-head, fent me home, and bid 
 me take Care of it. I going to look after him to 
 give it him, this Thief, whom I took for an honeft 
 Man, feeing fomething in my Hand, came up to me 
 to look at it, and when he faw what it was, he pre- 
 tended to be a Goldfmith, whereupon I ask'd him 
 what it might be worth. He looking ilightly on it, 
 told me it was only Copper gilt, and that the Stones 
 were falfe, but becaufe of the Work, if I would fell 
 it him, he would give me what it was worth. I told 
 him I could not fell it, by reafon it was my Cap- 
 tain's, when he defiring to fee it again, and obferving 
 it was in a Purfe that was tied to my Button, he all 
 of a fudden, while he amus'd me with Words 
 fnatch'd forth a Knife he had at his Girdle, and in- 
 ftantly cut the Strings, as is yet to be feen,- by which 
 means, having got my Purfe, he immediately ran 
 away with my Reliquary. Now, continu'd I in the 
 fame paffionate manner, I beg of you, Fellow-Sol- 
 diers and Comrades, to dive into his Pockets, and 
 you'l find what I fay to be true. The Soldiers leeing 
 a great deal of Likelihood in what I faid, and being 
 exceedingly fet againft the Goldfmith, loaded him 
 with innumerable Invectives and Reproaches, of 
 Old griping Ufurer, old Thief, old Rogue, and the 
 ' like ; which Names alfo the Standers-by, who knew 
 him, faluted him with ; and being mov'd by my 
 Tears and Entreaties, they fell to groping the old 
 Dog, and found the Purie juft as I had iaid, with 
 the Strings cut, and the Reliquary in it. The Gold- 
 fmith trembled every Joint of him upon this plain 
 Conviction, and became as pale as Death. Begging 
 leave to fpeak, he protefted and vow'd he had bought 
 this Purfe and Jewel of me for 400 Francs, which he 
 had paid me in good Gold. But the Soldiers would 
 
 not 
 
3¿8 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 not believe him, there being no probability, as they 
 faid, that fuch an old Fox as he, who knew his 
 Trade, would buy fo rich a Jewel as that of fuch a 
 young Fellow as I, and give fo much Money for it 
 without knowing me, for he would prefently be 
 apt to imagine I had ftolen it, or done worfe, at my 
 firft Offer of it. Here the Merchant demanded that 
 I fhouldbefearch'd too, and he did not doubt but they 
 would find the Money about me, which he had gi- 
 ven for the Reliquary. I was accordingly fearch d> 
 bût not a Soufe was found, whereupon they began to 
 treat my Ufurer after an unmerciful rate, both with 
 Words and Deeds ; and when they found he would 
 needs go before a Judge, they Carried us both to one. 
 As foon as I came there, I began to tell the fame 
 Story I had told the Soldiers, who ilood by me, and 
 were WitneiTes for me. The Judge confidering the 
 Matter, and finding the Goldfmith had little or no- 
 thing to fay for himfe.lf, reprimanded him feverely; 
 bût as he was an old Citizen, tho' he knew him to 
 be as old a Rogue, he did not fend him to Priibn, 
 but fpar'd him for that time, telling him, if ever he 
 heard of the like Crime again, he muft not expect 
 to be fo favourably us'd. As for the Reliquary, he or- 
 der'd the Soldiers to carry it to the Captain, who 
 gave them largely to drink at the Expence of the 
 poor Goldfmith, who was ready to hang himfèlf for 
 the lofs of his Money. 
 
 Roguery always pleafesthofe beft who have the be- 
 nefit of it, and not thofewho commit it ; the fame it is 
 with Traytors and Treafon. He that does ill, may 
 well pleafe them for whom he does it, but he ihall 
 never be the better efteem'd or bé.lov'd. 'Tis Puniih- 
 ment that makes a bad A&ion difapprov'd, even by 
 him that has the Advantage of it, becaufe he does 
 not know but one time or other it may come to be 
 his own Turn, if he encourages fuch unwarrantable 
 Doings. He that will da an ill Thing to one, may 
 
 do 
 \ 
 
Book IL of Guzman cTAlfarache. 362 
 
 do it to another, and confequently impeach him that 
 fet him to Work. When we want Virtue, we muft 
 of neceffity entertain Vice. The fame is to be met 
 with every where ; and he that has betray 'd you once, 
 will not fail to do it again whenever he has an Op- 
 portunity. My Captain, to whom this Affiftance 
 came very feaibnably, was not difpleas'd, you may 
 be fure^ at its coming; but ftill he found the A¿Hon 
 very bold, and that difturb'd him a little. He lik'd 
 Well enough my Legerdemain Tricks, fince he reap'd 
 Benefit by them, but he was afraid of theConfequen- 
 ces of them, as well in regard to me as himfelf, for 
 he did not know but at láft he might be hook'd into 
 fome damn'd Yrœmumre by them. He therefore re- 
 folv'd, as foon as he ihould get to Genoa, where he 
 belicv'd he ihould have no farther occaiion for me¿ 
 to get rid of me as foon as hé could. This is gene- 
 rally the Fate of us poor Fellows that are good for 
 nothing. We are made ufe of like Vipers and Scor- 
 pions as long as there can be any good got out of us, 
 and afterwards we arc thrown out of Doors. A- 
 while after we were landed, my Captain took me 
 afide, and faid to me, Friend Guzman, fee now we 
 are in Italy, whither you fo much defir'd to come ; 
 I have no further occafion for you, as you well 
 know ; and befides, your little Tricks may one time 
 or other bring me into an Inconvenience, therefore it 
 is high time we ihould part. You know the Capa- 
 city of my Pocket, and I could wifh I were in a 
 better Condition to acknowledge your good Offices 
 as they deferve ; I may, perhaps, one Day : In the 
 mean time take this Tifióle, and make the beil ufe of 
 it you can, and be perfwaded 'tis with great Re- 
 gret that I can make you no better Recompenee. 
 This faid, he turn'd ihort upon me and left me, but 
 I could fee by his mournful Air, that 'twas riot with 
 a little Reluctance that he forfook me. I iiood as Ü 
 i were Tbuuder-ùruck, having not a Woid to offer; 
 
 £ b me 
 
37<> The Life and ASlioú Part L 
 
 and if I could have fpoke, he would not (lay to hear 
 me ; fo getting me out of the Houfe, I march'd a- 
 long the Streets with my Hat over my Eyes, conii- 
 derjng that if Virtue never lets a Man go without a 
 Reward one time or other, Vice feldom fails of pro- 
 curing him Punifhment, and Infamy to boot. I would 
 have fain fpoke with my Captain, to have reprefen- 
 ted to him the bad Condition I had brought my (elf 
 into, principally on his Account, and the Services I 
 had done him in his Neceffity, and that at the hazard 
 of my Life, with no Advantage to my felf ; but I 
 thought he would not hearken to any Reafons I could 
 give him, after he had thus ihaken me off, as a rotten 
 Member that would be apt to infed the whole Body. 
 I therefore comforted my felf in that I was got to 
 Genoa, where, having enquir'd after my Relations, 
 I learn'd they were fome of the moit Powerful 
 Perfons of the Republick. This reftored my Cou- 
 rage a little, not doubting but I ihould be reliev'd by 
 them as foon as they came to know me. 
 
 THE 
 
Book III, (/Guzman d'Alfarache. 37* 
 
 . . . — . ' -^ -_ l . 1 1 
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE and ACTIONS 
 
 Óf the Famous 
 
 SPANISH ROGUE 
 Guzman d Alfarache. 
 
 Part I. Book III. 
 
 11 " ' " - - 1 m- i fh ■ iimai 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 Guzman difcourfes of Riches and Poverty, and the 
 Ejfe&s of both. . Then he proceeds to tell how he 
 was rejeUed by his Relations, and what Tric^ 
 he had plaid him white he was in quefi of them 5 
 and how at lafi he took^ the Road direftly towards 
 Rome, 
 
 THERE is nothing Co difficulty fis the Worlcí 
 goes, as to give the true Definition of á 
 rich Man. I am, for Example, come into' 
 a City where I have fome Friends, or fome 
 PerfonS, to whom I have been recommended. They 
 endeavour to treat me after the belt Manner, ¿md 
 Bb î propofe 
 
37 2 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 propofe to me to go and pafs an Evening at a Ridotto 
 or AjJemhUe, where there is both Gaming and Mu- 
 fick, and fometimes a Repaft. A Stranger that tra- 
 vels, deiires no better • 1 am carry 'd thkfief, and I 
 find a very noble Affembly of Perfbns of the beft 
 Quality of either Sex. They pay me fome Civilities,- 
 bccaufe I am a Foreigner ; then they leave me, by 
 reafon they are pre-engag'd to give Attention,- and 
 make Court to a Perfon, who, by the ílefped is 
 íhewn him, feems to be the moil confiderable of the 
 whole Company. 'Tis true, he is all Gold from Head 
 to Foot, has a Diamond-Belt about his Middle, large 
 and fine Stones upon his Fingers, and his Garters and 
 Shoe-Buckles glitter immoderately. He makes a great 
 Noife ; every body talks to him, both Men and Wo- 
 men • every body flares at him , hearkens to, and 
 applauds him. But to me, that do not know him, 
 he feems but a Coxcomb, and talks very idlely. 
 I fee nothing at all in him but what is Ridiculous, 
 and I could find in my Heart to laugh at him but for 
 good Manners. \Vhat antick Po'ftures he has ! What 
 an affected Voice ! and what Grimaces does he nxarke ! 
 I fpeak ferioufiy, were it not for the Company he 
 was in, I fhould be tempted to believe he was half a 
 Fool. I am ftark Mad to know who he is ; I muft 
 know, and Ï can't help it. Here's a Gentleman, one 
 of thofe that brought me hither, will inform me, I 
 fuppoib. Pray, Sir, let me beg of you to tell me, 
 who that fume honeft Man is, whom there's fo much 
 Buftle about ? You have guefs'd your fèlf, anfwer'd 
 he laughing, he's an honeft. Man, a Man of Wit, and 
 one who knows how to make the beft of his Affairs at 
 any time. At that very Moment,my Friend was call'd 
 away to play a Party at Picket with this fine Gentle- 
 man, and fo I could have no more Difcourfe with 
 him. He ran away immediately, for he took it for 
 a great Honour that was done him, and fo left me as 
 wife as I was before. My Curiofity neverthelefs aug- 
 ments, 
 
Book III. 0/ Guzman d'Alfarache. 373 
 
 ments, I fee nothing extraordinary in this Man's 
 Phyz, nor any thing that ihews him to be a Man of 
 Quality • he muft needs have his Employment, if any, 
 in the Country, for I'm fure he would not be ern- 
 ploy'd here. All the Ladies are mad to play with 
 him- and thofe that can't have that Honour, content 
 themfelves to fit bv, and ihew him all the Civilities 
 they can. I fancy he treats them nobly ; they love 
 to be treated, and to get a Man's Money at Play, 
 for I believe he's Bubble enough to them. But here 
 comes one, I fancy, will fatisfy my Curioiky about 
 this Beau. I befeech you, Sir, if you love me, tell me 
 who that Man is,about whom every body fo fwarms, 
 to whom every body makes fo many Cringes, and 
 upon whom all the Ladies fo gaze, as if they had not 
 Eyes enough to fatisfy their Curiofity. What, fays 
 he, is it poilible you mould not know him! Why, it 
 is Signior the Count of N — ? A Count, faid I ! How 
 could I know him, when I have not been in this Ci- 
 ty above thefe two Days ? Would you have me di- 
 vine? No, reply'd he, that's not to be expected; but 
 you muft know he has iooooo Francs a Year, a fine 
 gilt Çoach, a numerous Equipage, Keeps a good 
 Table, is in great Reputation at Court, goes every 
 where, and is very well receiv'd where-ever he goes. 
 All this is well for him, anfwer I; but what is all this 
 to you or me, who have no occafion for him ? Why 
 muft we pay our Devoirs to him, and look upon him 
 as the Cock of the Game, like others that ftand in 
 need of him? Has he any Employment in the Coim-*- 
 try where he lives, or does he expect Adoration 
 merely on account of his Eftate ? No, lie has no 
 Employment , but when a Man has three or four 
 Millions of Money, he can't want for either Quality, 
 Wit, Merit, or Virtue. But once more, pray tell 
 me, what fort of Man is he, for hitherto I have 
 obferv'd nothing but ridiculous Honours paid to him, 
 and fooliíh afíe&ed Cringing and Crowding about 
 
 5b 3 him? 
 
374 ÏÏ )e Life and Aüions Parti. 
 
 him ? He has, I tell you, near Four Millions in his 
 Pocket, and owes no body a Crofs. He is, in a word, 
 a very honeft Gentleman, and treats the Company 
 to Night, and I am to be invited, and I believe you 
 will too. As for my Invitation, quoth 1,1 thank 
 him, but I am engag'd elfewhere : I can neither 
 wait upon him nor his Four Millions. But my Que- 
 ition is yet undecided, therefore I muft needs ask 
 you once more, Whether he be a Gentleman, a Mer- 
 chant, or a Trader ? I beg your Pardon, Sir, replied 
 he, I can't fatisfy you at prêtent, for I go halves with 
 this Lady, and I am afraid we ihall lofe our Mo- 
 I am mad with all my Heart, cry I, that I can't 
 get an Anfwcr to what I ask fo plainly, and which 
 may be anfwer'd in two Words. But I guefs, by the 
 little I have heard, what the reft may be, and pity 
 the Perfon with all my Soul. In the midft of thefe 
 Reflections of mine upon moft Peoples Behaviour to^ 
 wards a rich Man, an Accident happen d in regard 
 to my felf, for either in that I was a Stranger, or 
 becauíe he had heard of my Name, this fame Count 
 turns about, and defires me to give Judgment upon a 
 Point at Play. I came up to him with a, great deal 
 of Reípeói: as I faw others do before me,, and lend- 
 ing my Ear attentively to all he faid, began to con- 
 ilder ¿f his Cafe, but found he was in the wrong • 
 nevertheleis, for fear of difobliging him, I did but 
 half give it againft him. Now were not I the great- 
 eft Fool of all the Company, for fufFering my lèlf to 
 be byafs'd by Riches, after Í had condemn cj the like 
 Folly in other People. 
 
 "Xis not poflîble to give a more natural Defcrip- 
 tion of 4 rich Man, than I have done by. this Rela- 
 tion. Now let us turn the Medal, and fee what we 
 have upon the Reverfe • why 'tis Poverty which has 
 always been my Portion, and whereof a right Defini- 
 tion may be given, fince Flattery has nothing to do 
 with it. Flattery is its irreconcileable Enany,tho' ihe 
 
 be 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 375 
 
 be commonly to be found among the Poor, being an 
 Effecl: of Indigence, and confequently the only Re- 
 fuge of Poverty. 
 
 Poverty is either Daughter of the Spirit and Wifl 
 dom, and then ihe is a Treafure ; or elfe íhe is Mo- 
 ther to Infamy and Reproach, than which nothing 
 can happen worie to Man. She is his greateft Enemy; 
 ihe is a contagious Leper • ihe is a Sea where Pati- 
 ence often Shipwrecks; a Rock where Honour gene- 
 rally fplits; a Fire that confumes our Lives; and an 
 oblivious Draught, that makes us forget what we are. 
 Poverty is a fort of Coin that paiTes no where. It is 
 the Curie of the whole Earth, the Sink of a City, 
 the Refufc of the Market, and the Afs to a rich 
 Man. The poor Man will ever be one that eats laft, 
 and always what is left, though he pays dearly for't. 
 His Money is' falfe, his Wifdom Folly, his Wit Non- 
 (enfe, and his Sentiments Trifles. He has no Reve- 
 nue but what comes from the Public k. No body 
 makes a Scruple of affronting him, every body flies 
 him, If he happens to come into Company, it muft 
 be his Part to give Attention; and if he will ar- 
 gue, he's always thought too bold, and will ever be 
 interrupted. Tho' he be never fo Ingenious, he 
 muft be fuppos'd to want Wit ; and if he fucceed in 
 any Undertaking, he will be thought a Conjurer. 
 The lead offenfive Word he utters, is judg'd next a- 
 kin to Blafphemy; and the leall Fault he commits, 
 unworthy of any Pardon. There's no Appeal for him 
 in this World, and he muft wait for his Remedy in 
 the next. Every body is againft him, and no body 
 takes his Part. He can have no Affiftance in his Ne- 
 ceffity, no Comfort in his Adverfity, nor no Com- 
 pany in his Solitude. All the World thwarts him, 
 all the World pillages him. He owes no body any 
 thing, and yet every body exa&s fome thing from 
 him. How unfortunate and miferable is the poor 
 Man, who is oblig'd to purchafe eYCn his Leave to 
 
 P b 4 be& 
 
^' 
 
 %jg The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 beg, which I knew fold once by an Alcalde of a cer- 
 tain City. A poor Man may have as much Wit as. 
 be will, he muft ftill be contented to.be devour'd by 
 Sots, like itaie Meat that is thrown out to Dogs. 
 
 Let us return once more to the rich Man, who 
 has ever the Wind in his Poop, and fails with a full 
 Gale The Sea is always calm and quiet for him, 
 and he meets with nothing that gives him the leaft 
 Disturbance. He has neither Care nor Trouble, his 
 Granaries are full of Corn, his Cellars of Wine, and 
 hii Cabinets and Coffers of Money. .aKes a 
 
 Winter of Summer, and of Summer a Winter. He 
 inverts the Seafbns, or rather is feniibie of none. 
 Let him do what he wiil, every Thing iucceeds with 
 him , and he is well receiv'ol where-ever he comes. 
 Let him talk what he pleafes, he's always in the 
 right, and no body dares to contradict him. He may 
 make Abfard Things pais for Gallantries, jfoolim for 
 Sentences, and Lies for Railleries. Though he be a 
 Rogue, he's ftil'd an honeft Man, and ope that un- 
 deríl.ajíqs himfelf. If he be Prodigal, he paffes for 
 Liberal ; if Covetous, for a Perfon of Oeeonomy ; 
 and if Infolent, for one only that takes an innocent 
 Freedom. If he affronts you, 'tis all good Manners 
 in him ; if he banters you, 'tis a fign of good Hu- 
 mour ; and if he talks you to Death, an Argument 
 of his good Converfation. If he be over-much given 
 to Women, he paifes only for a gallant Perfon; if an 
 Extortioner, for a Man of Authority ; if an opinio- 
 native Fellow, for one that is iteady and confiant • 
 if a common Swearer, for a brave and refolute 
 Hero ; and if a flow and ffupid Blockhead, for one 
 that is grave and fblid, and who does nothing with- 
 out mature Deliberation. All this neverthelefs is 
 nothing, and we mould never have done, íhould we 
 examine all tlje Extravagancies that are in the 
 World. We need only obierve how afraid every bo- 
 dy is of a rich Man j how ftp body dares to difpleafe 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 377 
 
 him, and how eafily he brings his Caufe to a good 
 Hearing, becaufe he himfelr is both Judge, Party 
 and Witnefs. One need only obferve, I fay, ho\v 
 a rich Perfon is waited upon, flatter'd and carefs'd, 
 where-eyer he comes. Let us conclude then, That 
 Poverty, according to the common Maxim of the: 
 World, for 'tis of that I fpeak, is what renders one 
 the loweft of Men, and Riches what elevates one 
 above all others. Where-evcr Blood boils, or the. 
 Pulfe of Honour beats, Want is look'd upon a grea- 
 ter Misfortune than the lofs of Life, becaufe Money 
 alone fets the Blood a-float, ani} gives us a Being. 
 He that has none, is like a dead Corps that walks up 
 and down like a Ghoft among the Living. Without 
 Money a Man can do nothing to the purpofe, noc 
 hardly pleafe himfelf with what he does. This is the 
 ordinary Courfe of the World, and there's no Reme- 
 dy for it. As we found it, fo we (hall leave it. *Tis 
 a folly to pretend to find a better way than that we 
 are in; and yet a greater, to think that our Fore-fa- 
 thers were wifer than we in thi§ Particular. What is 
 now, has been, and will ever be the fame. Our firit 
 Father was an Infidel, our firit. Mother a Liar, and 
 their Firft-born, both a Robber and Parricide. What 
 is there that has not been already, and what can we 
 hope from what ihall come hereafter? If what is paíi 
 feems better to us, 'tis becaufe we feci the prefent 
 IllSjbut neither remember the paft Benefits nor Trou- 
 bles any otherwife, than to rejoice at our being got 
 rid of them. There's nothing more pleafant than to 
 behold a Meadow at a diftance, it Charms us with 
 its Beauty and Verdure ; but when we come near it, 
 we find nothing but Marines and Bogs; we know 
 not where to fet a Foot,every thing difpleafes us, and 
 we mufl: go elfewhere for that Pleafiire we thought 
 to have found there. It is as common as ancient in 
 the World for. Men to love Profperity, court Riches, 
 ieek Conyeniencies, labour after particular Interefts, 
 
 and 
 
378 The Life and Anions Part I, 
 
 and to defire Abundance with Pafiion. Where that is 
 wanting, the Father is wanting to the Son, the Son 
 to the Father, the Brother to the Brother, the Friend 
 to the Friend, and I am wanting to my felf. More 
 than one Experience has render'd me wife upon this 
 Head. My Life has been a perpetual School, for me 
 to learn thefe Leifons in at my own Expence. If I 
 had known better when I came to Genoa, I had not 
 been expos'd in the Condition I was in to appear be- 
 fore my Relations, in order to make my felf known 
 to them. I ibould have waited a more favourable 
 Opportunity till I had been better cloath'd. I ihould 
 pot have loft my felf with them as I did, as you'l 
 find by what follows : 
 
 I had no fooner parted with my Captain^ or, to 
 fpeak more properly, he had no fooner parted with 
 me, than I fet my felf about looking after another 
 Inn, where I might live thriftily, till fuch time as I 
 could find and fpeak with my Relations. I was in- 
 deed in a very bad Equipage, yet a Shirt and Shoes 
 were what I wanted molt. Thefe forc'd me to tap 
 my Viftole, of which above one half went at once. My 
 Cloaths feem'd to have been fomething formerly, 
 ]but now they were like the Ruins of Troy. My Hat 
 ¿nd Stockings were not much better. The Symetry 
 was exaft. When I had my new Shoes and Shirt on, 
 J thought no body would look on any other Parts of 
 me. At length, in as ill a Pickle as I was, I refolv'd 
 to go and look after my Relations, and to tell every 
 body I had the Honour to be of. their Family, that 
 is, of good Old Gothick Extraction. This being quick- 
 ly fpread abroad, my Relations came to the hearing 
 of it, and were very much ¡offended. They look'd 
 upon my Mifery as a downright Scandal to them, 
 and I believe, if they could but have rid me out of 
 the way handfomely, they would not have ituck to, 
 have done it 3 fuch Pra&ifes being but too common in 
 
 th»t 
 
Book III. o/Guzman d'Alfarache. 379 
 
 that Country ; but as' I began to be talk'd of in ? 
 City where my Father had been fo well known, if I 
 had difappear ; d all of a fudden, the Caufe would 
 have been foon guefs'd at. You muíl not think, it 
 much, Reader, that I were expos'd to fuch Haz irds¿ 
 for had you been in my Relation's Cafe, and feeii 
 fuch a miferable Fellow as I come and falute you 
 openly in the great Market-Place, and call you Un- 
 cle or Cofen, could you have foiborn entertaining 
 fome fuch-like Thoughts ? Imprudence was always 
 on my Side, and Shame and Deteftation on theirs t 
 They therefore receiv'd me juft as you or any other 
 would have done. I never faluted one of them that 
 ¿lid not treat me with the Titles of Rafcal and Im- 
 poftor, and threaten to Fend me far enough ofE 
 You aGenoefe? cry they to me, with Rage and Con- 
 fufion in their Faces : You the Son of fuch a one ? 
 You are rather the Son of a Whore, that thought fit 
 to do him that Honour. Go, get you gone, if you 
 fiant a mind to have Spurs in your A«e, to ionrj 
 you away fafter. You would have been apt to believe 
 now, my Father died ioo Years ago, and had no Pa- 
 rentage left, fo loth were thefe Relations of his to 
 own him. At length, however, I met a certain old 
 RoguCj^who no doubt had heard of me, who receiving 
 me with all the Civility imaginable, faid to me with 
 an infinuating Air,YoungMan,I remember fomething 
 of the perfon you fpeak of, and who you fay was 
 your Father. There are certainly in this City fè- 
 Veral of the principal Nobles that are his Relations ; 
 and I can bring you to a Man who will make yoij 
 known to them. It is now fomewhat late, and you 
 have to be fure fupp'd ; come therefore and lodge 
 with me, and to morrow I will carry yo.u to this 
 fame Perfon, who will give you Satisfaction, an cj 
 unriddle all this Miftery. O, Thanks be to God .' 
 faid f, to my felf, altogether traniportcd with Joy 
 thaj I have at lait met with an honeft Man in this 
 
 City. 
 
'380 The Life and Anions Part L 
 
 Píty 3 who will take Pity on my Misfortunes. I fan- 
 cied now, Fortune would be reconcile to me, and 
 that I had gaind the Point I denVd. I faw Fhad to 
 do with a Perfon of a venerable Afpeft, with a grave 
 and ferious Air, a bald Head, and a white Beard 
 that reach'd down to his Girdle. He had a Staff in his 
 Hand,and a long Robe after the manner of the noble 
 Genoefes. I fancied him another St. Pan!, and I hear- 
 ken'd to him as an Oracle ; all that he faid,appearin'g 
 to me not only Truths, but Sentences. I had no 
 Thoughts of diftrufting him ; I follow'd him to his 
 Houfe fo pleas'd, that I hardly knew whether I 
 touch'd the Ground with my Feet or not. 'Tistrue, 
 that Compliment of, You have to be fur e fupfd, dig 
 by no means pleafe me ^ it was fuch as they make at 
 Cor Joua ; but I thought at Genoa, like many 6\ 
 ÍPlaces, when People have eat well themfelve'% they 
 don't fancy any Body elfe can be hungry. For my 
 part, my Misfortune was fuch, that I had eat leis 
 that Day than any of the foregoing, my Pifióle being 
 juft at an end, fo that I made worfe and worfe Cheer 
 every Hour. But there was no Remedy, I niuit en- 
 dure it in fpite of my Teeth, rather than lofe'fo fair 
 an Opportunity of getting acquainted with my Re- 
 lations, as this old Fellow offered me. As foon as* 
 we were come to his Houfe, a Servant cmne to meet 
 him to take off his long Gown, but he would not pair: 
 with it. Then fitting down, he began to jobber, 
 with him in Italian, which I did not underiland, 
 but which did not laft long, for he foon ferit him 
 away, and conduced me into a great Hall, to en- 
 tertain himfelf with me. Fie began by asking me 
 feveral Queftions concerning the Affairs of Spain , 
 and from them proceeded infenfibly to thofe of our 
 Family. He infbrm'd himfelf very curioufly con- 
 cerning my Mother : ask'd if my Father had left 
 her much ; as likewife, how many Brothers and Si- 
 fters I had ¿ what part of Sevil we liv'd in ;" with 
 
 many 
 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 581 
 
 many other Particulars ; in all which I fatisfied hira 
 to a Tittle. This laited above an Hour, when the 
 fame Servant came, I fuppofe, to acquaint him his 
 Orders had been obey'd, and that all was ready. 
 1, however, underilood nothing of the Matter - } but 
 at laft, the oíd Gentleman, turning about to me, 
 faid, I believe you are weary, and would gladly be 
 a-bed : I'll leave you to your Repofe, and return to 
 you again to morrow Morning. Then he cry'd, 
 lío there, Antonio Maria, come and wait upon the 
 Gentleman to his Chamber. It was delign'd I 
 ihould fee the fineft part of the Houfe, which was 
 indeed a Palace, and therefore I was carried through 
 Seven or Eight Rooms fucceffively, all magnificent- 
 ly furniihed, and where the moil common Orna- 
 ment was Marble. From thence I was conducted 
 into a long Gallery, at the end of which was a large 
 and fine Bed-Chamber, with a noble Bed in it, and 
 very rich Tapiilry-Hangings, wrought with Silk and 
 Gold after the manner of Turky. The other Orna- 
 ments and Furniture, were proportionably rich and 
 noble. This Room was fit to lodge a Prince in, 
 but now muft have only a poor Beggar ; who, ne- 
 verthelefs, might have been more happy if he had 
 not had this Honour. I was altogether confounded 
 at it, but that waj becaufe I knew not what was 
 preparing for me. We were no fooner come into 
 this Chamber, but Antonio Maria having fignified to- 
 me,it was his Mailer's Pleafure I ihould lodge there, 
 where only Princes had Iodgd before, he began to 
 offer me his Aifi (lance to undrefs me. I thank'd 
 him, but would not fuffer it, not having a mind to 
 let him altogether know my Poverty - } and befides, 
 my Rags were fo crazy, they were to be handled 
 with more than .ordinary Difcretion. The Valet, 
 either through Malice, or that he thought it his 
 Duty, and that I oppos'd it meerly out of Ceremony, 
 infilled upon doing me the Service he ofter'd. Catch- 
 ing 
 
3$ 2. The Life and Aniens Part 1 
 
 iijg me twice or thrice by the Sleeve/ he would 
 bave pull'd off my Coat and Doublet in ipite of my 
 Teeth, but that I prevented him, by holding . fait at 
 the other end, and 'twas a Wonder of Wonders he 
 had not torn both to Pieces. At lengthy quite tir'd 
 with Compliments, I beg'd of him, for the Lov.e of 
 God, to let me alone, for that I never made ufe of 
 a Servant to help me off with my Cloaths : Upon 
 this, he defifted for fear of angring me, which he 
 law he had almoft done. I then retir d behind the 
 Bed, and letting fall the Curtains, dropt my Rags 
 gently upon the Floor, which were held together 
 only by a few Laces. This done, I got into Bed, 
 and quickly found the Sheets were Perfum'd. I 
 told the Servant, he might take awáy the Candle if 
 he pleas'd ; but he anfwer'd, It was not convenient, 
 for that in this Country, in fuch high-pitch'd Rooms 
 as that was, it was a common thing for large Bats to' 
 hide them íel ves, who were very dangerous a-Nights, 
 but would fly from any Light. He alfo added, 'twas 
 cuftomary in this City to leave a Candle burning, 
 to drive awáy certain Spirits that haunted great 
 Houfes, and would do a great deal of Mifchief, but 
 by no means lov'd the Light. He told me all thefe 
 Stories with a fort of Air, that a wifer Man than Í 
 might have been deceiv'd by. Neverthelefs, as much 
 a Fool as I was, I was more afraid of Bats, which I 
 hated exceedingly, than Spirits. The Servant was" 
 no fooner gone out of my Chamber, but I got up 
 to go and look whether the Windows and Door were 
 well faiien'd, and I found all fafe ; nevertheleis, for 
 better Security, I bolted the Door. Now think- 
 ing neither Spirit nor Bat could get in, I went very 
 quietly to Bed again, and in due time fell afleep, 
 notwimftanding any Impreffion I might receive from' 
 thefe Stories. Before I flept, I amus'd my felf with 
 reflecting on the good Will of this , venerable old 
 Gentleman,, not knowing but he might prove my 
 
 Relation 
 
Vol- 1 ■ 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache; 383 
 
 Relation at laft, and treat me thus like a Strangei 
 meerly to furprife me the next Morning. This was 
 a good Beginning I thought, and I fancied I ihould 
 have a Taylor at my Levée before I was well awake 
 to make me a Suit of Cloaths. I was, however, 
 perfuaded, I ihould never want for any thing, fot 
 that fuch rich and noble Relations as I had, would 
 never fuffer that Difhonour. What other Intereft 
 could this good Man have, quoth I, co treat me af- 
 ter this rate ? The Condition I am in, could never 
 engage him to throw away fo many Civilities upon 
 me. He would not carry me home with him, to 
 drive me out of Doors afterwards. He muft infalli- 
 bly be my Relation, and that very near ; and I may 
 now well lay, I have met with good Fortune, and 
 an honeft Man, tho' fo unufual a Happinefs for me to 
 light upon. I have not loft my Pains in coming to 
 Italy •> and 'tis well faid, that a Man's Blood cannot 
 lie. Thus young and unexperiene'd as I was, I rea- 
 fbnd with my ielf, not being able to comprehend 
 that too great Kindneifes were never without fome 
 Piy-Defigns. However, being invited to reft by fo 
 delicious and delicate a Bed, I fell fo profoundly a- 
 ileep, as I've already told you, that I did not hear 
 the Noife of Four Hobgoblins, or rather Four De- 
 vils, that enter'd my Chamber foon after, who 
 coming to my Bed-fide, and feizing me by all Four, 
 put me into iuch a terrible Fright, that I was rather 
 dead than living. They were all habited like Devils, 
 with huge long Tails, frightful Vizards, and two 
 Horns on each of their Heads. I coud not fpeak 
 I was fo furpris'd, and had hardly any Life left in me. 
 All that I could get out, was the Name of Je/us, 
 and fome few Prayers I had learn'd by Heart, which 
 neverthelefs fignified nothing to thefe Chriftian De- 
 vils, which afterwards I came to underftand they 
 were. They had fpirited away my Bed-Cloaths in 
 a moment, when taking me into their Hands, they 
 
 began 
 
384 The Life and Àiïiàni Part í¿ 
 
 began to tofs me after that rate, that tho' the Cham- 
 ber was exceeding highj I fear'd I mould have my 
 Brains beat out againft the Ceiling;. But they, con- 
 tented themfelves with only bruifing me, and tir'd 
 as. they were, for they did not leave off till they 
 could hold out no longer, plac'd me at length in my 
 Bed again all batter'd,and bruis'd aimoft to a Mummy. 
 There was no fign of Life left in me, but the Sighs 
 I fetch'd, which in any but Chriftian Devils would 
 have wrought ibme Pity. They çover'd me over as 
 they found me, put out the Candle, and fo left me 
 as if there had been no Harm done. My whole Bo- 
 dy was fo disjointed and maul'd, I could not íleep á 
 Wink, and it was already broad Day before I came 
 to my felf, ana knew where I was, for I had all along 
 fancied I came piping hot from Hell. God, who 
 fav'd me that bout from Death, knew well why he 
 did fo. As I were about to rife, for I believ'd by this 
 time the evil Spirits were gone, I fmelt an ill-fo- 
 vour'd fmell riot far off from me ; which made me 
 immediately guefs,Fear had had the fame effect upon 
 me as it had upon the Cook's Wife. . I was not mif- 
 taken, and getting up, faw what I fo very much fuf- 
 pe&ed. I knew no better Remedy, than to clean it 
 the beft I could with the Sheets, which I did, and 
 then refolv'd to get me away as faff as I could 
 out of that curfed Houfe. Reflecting upon the cruel 
 Adventure I had had that Night, Í was like to have 
 thought it a Dream, had not my poor Bones 
 told me to the contrary. I was hardly able to 
 ilir, yet would needs get up, and fee how thofe De- 
 vils Incarnate could come at me. I found the Door 
 and Windows^ as I had left them, fail ihut. . This 
 frighted me, for then I thought it muft needs be the 
 Devil I had had to do with. Well but, thought I, 
 why mould his Infernal Majefty take ,more pleafuré 
 in Blanketting me than another. This was not like- 
 ly, I fancy'd, tho' perhaps I better deferv'd it: I there-* 
 
 fotà 
 
Book III. 0/ Guzman d'AIfarache. 385 
 
 fore lifted up thcHangingsto fee if there were not fomcfaliè 
 Door behind them, and I round two great Windows that 
 look'd into the long Gallery, whereof one WMttpen,at -which 
 I fupposd theie curled Spirit? came in, .Mid went out ; 
 after they had executed their ill-natur'd CommiiTion. 1 laid 
 not a Word, I only drcis'd me as lait as I could, and having 
 puttheBed-Cio3thsinorder,which I had left et her v. ' • 
 rum'd than I had found them, I fcftiy Itole towards the 
 Door, witlrMefign to get aWayj but as I was going 
 whom fliould I meet but that Villain Antonio Maria t who 
 ieem'd to me,by his hang- do;; Countenancc^to have been on 
 of the Four Diabolical Emiflaries. He told me in his whin- 
 ing Tone, his Mailer waited for meat the next Chun ' 
 I anfwer'd, I would go and wait upon him, but I intend 
 nothing leis. I was no lboner got out of Doors, but I ma 
 all the halle away I could, for fear the imclling Adventure 
 lliould be found out, for which Í might very well expert 
 ibmc new Chaltifemcnt. I was lo battef'd and bruis/d all 
 over my poor Body, that at another time I believe I could not 
 have Itir'd if you would have given me the whole World. ; 
 but now making a Virtue of Neceflity, I trotted away in 
 iiich Poit-halte, that one would have thought I had 1 
 Wings at my Heels, fo eager I was to get out of this abo- 
 minable City. Fear makes a Man dp lîrange Things ; and I 
 was rain to lay Legs to Ground pretty handiomely, after the 
 great Charity 1 had experience from thelc worthy Relations. 
 All this Fright, neverthelefs, had not taken away my Sto- 
 mach, I was as Hungry as ever ; wherefore happening to 
 pals through a Market, and feeing fome boifd Meat that 
 look'd well, I bought a little of it', with a large Loaf, and 
 fell to eating as Iwalk'd along the Strict, not knowing 
 whither I was going, or entertaining any Thought about 
 it. I did not lWp till 1 got out pf the City, audi: 
 iecing a O.baret before me, 1 went in and drank a Glais ot 
 Wine, which you may imagine by this time Ï hadOccalion, 
 for. Here I began to' feel my Pangs afrefh • but the Wine, 
 which was very good, comforted me under that Affliction j 
 lb that renaming Courage, after an Hour's Bait, Í demanded 
 Whither that Road led ? I was told to Rome ; which taking 
 lor a good Omen, I without further delay prepar'd rny lclf 
 to travel forward. As 1 went along, I could not but re* 
 -t on the Treatment of my treacherous Relations, who, I 
 
 Ç c 
 
g 8 ¿ The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 fuppos'd, us'd me ill, on Account of my mean Figure, which 
 they fear'd would dishonour them. But I comforted my 
 ièlt with having one Day an Opportunity to Revenge .my 
 ill Ufa ce on that old Hunks, and make him know whether 
 I was really the Son of my Father, or not. 
 
 C H A P. II. 
 
 Guzman, in his Journey towards Rome, difcourfes âf 
 Lis VarJ/mony and good Husbandry ¿ and at length 
 tells you how, upo?t his Arrival at his Journeys end, 
 he turn d Beggar again ; and what Infractions he had 
 from an old Proficient, who communicated to him the 
 Laws and Ordinances of that Fraternity, which he ac- 
 quaints you with. 
 
 IJoggM on leifurely,bccaufe my Bones had been foihaken 
 1 durit not, for the prelent efpecially, put them into a 
 more violent Motion. I arriv'd at length at a Town 10 
 Miles from Genoa, without fo much as turning my Head 
 once towards that City. If Lot's Wife had done the fame, 
 ilic had not been changd to a Pillar of Salt. I look'd up- 
 on my felf now, as one efcap'd from the Battle of Roncef- 
 valles ; but then I was fallen into as great a Misfortune, 
 which, was not to have a Penny wherewithal to help my 
 ièlÇand that in a Country where I undcritood not a Word 
 of tiie Language, and yet was travelling ib long a Journey 
 as that to Rome. This you muit own was no fmall Matter 
 to undergo: yet I, who had been accuftom'd to Misfor- 
 tunes, and taught not to deipair, made flight of them. 
 After I had rcftcd for two Hours, and fpent the little Mo- 
 ney I had left, I relien' d my felf entirely into the Hands of 
 rroyidence, taking the direct Road to Rome as a Pilgrim 
 in queft of Pardon?, for which I had more than ordinary 
 Occafion. 
 
 Poverty, as I've already told you, is a fad Thing : If it 
 fometimes lliarpens the Wit, it more frequently blunts it. 
 It was well for me I had already been made acquainted 
 with it, and that I was not altogether ignorant in the Art 
 
 oí 
 
Boot III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 387 
 
 of Begging, otherwife I ihould not have known what to 
 have done. This Juftice mufl be done to Italy, That no 
 Country in the World has more Charity in it. I met 
 with fo much on the Road, that in all my long journey I 
 did not fpend a Farthing of what I got, but liad always 
 more than fufficient for my Belly without it. In a Word, 
 this Trade charind me fo exceedingly, that when I came 
 to the famous City, I could not Jeave it. I had fome 
 Temptation towards it I mutt confefsj for feeing my felf 
 have Money enough to buy a new Suit of Cloatlis, I had a 
 mind at firit to employ it that way, with defign to get into 
 fome Nobleman's Service : but at length I began to cry 
 to my felf; Ah, Guzman I can'lt thou not have Five or Six 
 Soufe in thy Pocket,but thou muft prefently refume thy for- 
 mer Vanity ? Thou halt had old Follies enough, do not 
 feek after new Ones. Thou art well in Health and Circum- 
 ftance by the Bufinefs thou haft, What makes thee to de- 
 fire more ? , Every one becomes Wife one time or other by 
 his Experience ; do not thou refift thine. This faid, the 
 Temptation vaniùYd, and I heard no more of it. I ty'd 
 tip my Purfe-itrings with a double Knot ; and faying to 
 my Money, You ínall ftay there, if you pleafe, till I have 
 greater Occafion for you ; it tarried very quietly. The 
 Cloatlis I already have are very proper for myEmployment ; 
 were they better, they would not be fowell. Since Fortune 
 has chalk'd out this Way for me to Felicity, why l"hould I 
 oppoiè her ? I had better be contented, fince a worle Fate 
 may foon happen to me. 
 
 1 began then to traverfe the Streets of Rome, like a Beg- 
 gar of a new Edition, holding open my Hand, and ftretch- 
 mg forth my Arm, in fuch manner as I law the molt Skil- 
 ful do before me. I form'd my felf upon their Model ; and, 
 in regard I knew not the Streets fo well as they, I was 
 oblig'd to follow them, and take what they refused, or at 
 leaft what they left. I at length got acquainted with a 
 young Fellow of that City, who was well vers'd in this 
 Trade, and gave me good Inftrucuons concerning it. He 
 taught me in a trice, after what manner I ihould beg of all 
 ibrts of People ; and told me, the fame Tone would 
 not do always, nor the fame Speech. He laid, Men did 
 not love a whining Note, but one that begg'd an Alms 
 boldly : Whereas' Women, who fome of them paid thcu 
 
 C c 2 Devotions 
 
388 The life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Devotions to the Holy Virgin, others to our Lady of the 
 Rofary, and each in particular as God had infpir'^them for 
 his Glory, required Prayers for their Deliverance from Mor- 
 tal Sin, Faliè Witnciïes, the Power of Traytors, and Bad 
 Tongues. Thele fort of Wifhes or Prayers, pronoune'd 
 with a great deal of Vchemency and Whining» makes their 
 Pnrfes immediately fly open, and happy is fhe that can 
 fupply thee firft. He taught me moreover, how to move 
 the Companion of the Rich, who are ever moit inexorable; 
 and to excite th'e Charity of Devotos, who are not lefs dif- 
 ficult to work upon, for they'l freely give you what's 
 anothers,but part with nothing of their own. In a Word, 
 he gave me lb good Initru&ions, that in a lhort time I got 
 a great deal more than I could ipend, and was acquainted 
 with the whole City of Rome. 1 knew right well where 
 there was any thing to be got ; but not to trouble my 
 Cuiiomers too often, I refolv'd to obferve a Decorum. I 
 divided the City into feveral Quarters, allotting one for 
 each Day in the Week, which I vifited confiant ly. As for 
 the Churches, they went according to their Holiday?, and 
 íét Times of Devotion. It often happen d I got only a 
 Piece of Bread ; but then whatever I liad more than I 
 could eat, I would be fufe to fell, and make Money of. 
 There were feme fhame-fae'd Beggars that could not ask 
 openly, but whole half-itarv'd. Countenances fufficiently 
 betraying their Wants, they w r ere certain to be reliev'd in 
 private; which was no fooner done, but they would not 
 Fail to come and lay out their Pence with us, fince we 
 could afford them better Pennyworths than the Baker. We 
 lold Scraps of Bread alio to the Country People and others, 
 whole Bufmels it was to fat Poultry and Hogs ; but thofe 
 that always paid us belt for this Commodity, were your 
 Makers of Spice-Cakes. I likewife got a good deal by old 
 Rags ; for People feeing me almoif naked, efpecially in 
 Winter, would take pity of me, and give what they could 
 ipare. Coming at lait to be acquainted with the moit. 
 antient Dons of the Faculty, 1 every Day Jearn'd how to 
 c Mat'.ers better, tor I oblcrv'd them narrowly. 
 However being one Day at the Ambaikdor of Frances 
 Door, where there was always a publick Dole diipens'd, I 
 hé.ird iome of my Comrades behind me cry, See that Oaf 
 of a Spaniard there, he knows nothing of the Matter ,• he'l 
 
 certainly 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 38^ 
 
 certainly ipoil our Trade. When once his Guts are full, 
 if any Body offers him any Tiling, he refufes it. We ihall 
 have a fine Fellow-Labourer of him. By thefe means. Peo- 
 ple will be apt to think we Beggars have too much given 
 us, and io withhold their Charity. One of the old Stan- 
 ders hearing him talk thus, and knowing me, began to 
 reprimand them after the following manner. This Bro- 
 ther of ours is a Stranger ; we ought to confider him as 
 fuch, for he can't halt know his Trade yet ; but let me 
 alone with him, and 111 talk to him; perhaps I may 
 give him fuch Inltructions as lie may be the better for. 
 Now you mult know, this was a Doctor in the Art of 
 Begging, a very great Proficient; who calling me afide, 
 began to enquire into my Life, and ask me, Whence I 
 came ? How long I had been in Rome t If I had beg'd 
 elicwhere? Or whether I liad ferv'd my Apprentilnip in 
 that City ? In all which, having latisned him as well as 
 I could, he inftructed me very mildly in the Duties that 
 Beggars ow'd to each other, and what Decorums they 
 ought to oblèrve. He laid, they were to allift one ano- 
 ther with their Advice, and live like Brothers : And from 
 thence he enter'd into a long Detail, and taught me fo 
 many Tricks and Secrets, as loon gave me to underftand 
 what a Matter T had to deal with, and that I my felf 
 were yet but a Novice. He taught me to widen my 
 Stomach, that I might eat four times as much as at ano- 
 ther tunc, without incommoding my felf. Hé lhew'd 
 me with what Greedinefs I lhould eat before People, and 
 what deep Bites I were to make in the Bread. He told 
 me what Grimaces I íhould ufe, and what different Tones 
 of Voice, according to the different Perlons I ask'd Alms 
 of He made me, moreover, acquainted with the Hours 
 I were to be at each Place ; what Houles I might enter 
 freely, and what fuperficially, and the like. But all this 
 w r as nothing in refpe¿l of the Begging-Laws and Ordi- 
 nances, which he communicated to me as foon as we came 
 to his Houle, whither he infenfibly drew me. He gave me 
 leave to take a Copy of them, that I might fludy them at 
 leifure. They are as follow. 
 
 Ç c 3 Laws 
 
3po The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 Laws andOrclbictnces to be inviolably obfervd by all Beggars. 
 
 " "pOrafmuch as all Nations and Kingdoms have their 
 tc *■ different Methods of Begging, which they are diitin- 
 " guiüYd and known by ; as the Germans, by their Sing- 
 " ing, and going in Companies ; the French, by their Pray- 
 " ing ; the Flemmings, by their making of Legs, and their 
 i( low and frequent Cringes ; the Bohemians, or Gipfies, by 
 " their Importuning ; the Portuguefes, by their Slabbering 
 " and Crying; the Jtalians,by^ their long Circumlocutions 5 
 " and the Spaniards, by their big Looks, and lofty Lan- 
 " guage : We írri¿tly Enjoyn and Command all Pcrfons, 
 ct to whom it fhalt in any wile appertain, to conduce and 
 " reform themfelves for the future, purfuant to the follow- 
 u ing Ordinances and Statutes. 
 
 " I. We Will and Command, That none of our Bro- 
 " ther-Rogues or Beggars, whether Wounded or Lame, of 
 (C any Nation or Country foever, ihall join or unite with 
 " thofe of any Kingdom or Sovereignty that are Well and 
 * c in Health, to prevent Inconveniencies that may arife 
 *' thereby, and the Advantages they may have over one 
 " another. 
 
 " II. We Will and Command, That thofe who are Well 
 " and in Health, and without any Indifpofition upon 
 :< them, do not confort or keep Company with, in any 
 " manner whatfoever, any Blind Beggars, Thofe that fay 
 t£ Prayers from Door to Door, any Mountebanks, Fidlers, 
 f Poets, Slaves fet at Liberty, old Soldiers that have efcap'd 
 " cut of a Battle or Siege, Shipwrecked Seamen, or the 
 '' like ; for altho' it is allowed in general, that all thefe 
 " muft fubfiit by Alms, yet the Ways of Begging being 
 *' different, each inuit flick to their particular Rules and 
 i; Orders. 
 
 " III. We Will and Command, That the Poor of every 
 f¿ Nation, efpeciaily in their own Countries, have certain 
 ,c Inns and Victual Hng-Houfes affignd them, where ihall 
 ( * prende Four or more of their Antients, with Staves in 
 4i their Hands as Enfigns of their Authority, to deter- 
 v faint all inch Differences and Difputes as ihall happen a- 
 W rpong them -, and after they have io done, they may fit 
 " „ " over 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 391 
 
 " over their Cups, and tell old Stories, boalting of Battels 
 " they were never in, and Dangers they have never run. 
 
 u IV. We Will and Command, That every Beggar carry 
 " a good Batt or Cudgel in his Hand ; and that fuch as 
 " are able put a good Spike at the end of it, that they may 
 " be armaand provided againlt all Cafualtics that may 
 * befall either their Purfes or their Perfons. 
 
 " V. We Will and Command, That no Beggar wear any 
 " new or tolerable Cloaths whatfoever, but inch only as 
 " ihall- be well worn, Patch'd and Thread bare ? for rear of 
 " bringing Scandal upon the Profe ilion : Provided always, 
 " in cafe any new Cloak or Coat has been given by way of 
 " Alms, then fuch Perfon, to whom it was given, l'hall 
 " have liberty to wear it for that Day, and no longer, uri- 
 " der pain of our high Diípleaíurc, and his own parti- 
 ." cular Hindrance. 
 
 " VI. We Will and Command, That in cafe of Prece- 
 " dency, each lhall take Place Secundum Antiquitatcm Pojfef- 
 " fionis, and not Perjona, according to his Standing, and 
 " not nis Years. 
 
 " VII. We Will and Command, That two Sick or Lame 
 " Peribns do keep together, and call each other Brothers ; 
 " but with this Condition, That they beg by Turns, and 
 u itrain their Voices in different Manners, the one (till bc- 
 " ginning where the other leaves oft, and both obferving 
 " equal Time and Mcaiure. They are to keep each to a 
 " diffèrent fide of the Street, and not to ule any artificial 
 " Phrafcs, or affected Forms, to let off their Ailments, but 
 11 to diiplay them as naturally and fignificantly as they 
 " can, fo as they may be plainly underitood,: When this is 
 K done, they may divide the Booty at pleafure, and no 
 " Account mail be requir'd of them. 
 
 " VIII. We Will and Command, That no Beggar carry 
 tc about him any Arms, either Offeniive or Defeniive, other 
 " than fuch as we have permitted, unlcls it be a linall 
 " Knife to cut his Victuals with. He is likewile to wear 
 " no Gloves, Pantoflcs, nor Spectacles, nor to have his 
 " Stockings rol I'd or garter'd, or to have any thing clfe 
 " that may look neat'about him, under pain of our high 
 " Difpleaiure. 
 
 " IX. We Will and Command, That all pretended lick 
 * ; Beggars wear a Clout about their Heads, initcad of a 
 
 C c 4 " Bonnet; 
 
 
3^2 The Life and Añiom Part I. 
 
 ' Bonnet ; and that thev, as well as all others, be re'r- 
 11 nutted to carry with them a pair of old Sizzars, an Au-1, 
 " a Needle and Thread, a Thimble, a -wooden D>' 
 " 60.W, a little Hand-basket, and a Scrip or Wallet. 
 (t They ¿hall likewile have liberty to walk with two 
 i: Crutches, and liare a Well-Leg ty'd up upon a 
 •Stump, 
 
 " X. We Will and Command, That all Beggar* carry 
 " two Turfes about with them, one little, and another 
 <( great; but that they receive their Alms in their Hats. 
 1 We forbid them to make a Pouch or Budget, cither in 
 ' : l heir Cloak, Coat, Frock, Gabardine, Canock, or Metn- 
 " i/;///0#,upon pain and Forfeiture of all that fhall be found 
 " : rbout them, and upon being moreover look'd upon as 
 <c Coxcombs. 
 
 u XI. We Will and Command, That no Beggar what- 
 " foe ver difcover, reveal, or divulge the Myfteries, Subtle- 
 " ties, and Secrets of his Trade, unlets it be to one of tile 
 c: fame Society or Profeflion. 
 
 " XIJ. W r e Will and Command, That any one who has 
 : ' invented or found out any new Trick or Device in the 
 " Art of Begging, fhall be oblig'd to communicate the 
 te fame to his Fraternity within the fpace of one Month, 
 *' that the Publick may benefit by it ; and in cafe he does 
 *' ib Communicate, he fhall have the fole Privilege of 
 " pradtifmg it for Three Months, as a Reward for his In- 
 vention ; and no Body fhall preiume to interfere with 
 hiirj in it without his Leave, un'efs he has a mind to for- 
 hit al J he ft] ill cet by it to the Perfon he has fo wrong'd. 
 ■ : "JiXil Wc Will and Command, That all Beggars inall 
 diicover, and make known to each other, all Houfes 
 ' where there are any Alms to be had, efpccially fuch 
 c where there is either Gaming or Courting; for thofe 
 PL ces lc'doin fail of bringing in good Rents. 
 " XiV. We Will and Command, That no Beggar, un* 
 ''\ der pain of our heavy Dilplealurc, keep any Hunting, 
 Setting, or Gun-Dog?, and but only one Mungrel-Cur ; 
 wiiich ne> ¡s permitted to none but Blind-Men, 
 
 uCt them along with a Halter and Bell about his 
 
 V XV; We Will and Command, That none that carry a 
 " Dog about with them, to make him dance or jump 
 
 " through 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 3.^3 
 
 tc through a Hoop, llnll have any Station at a Church- 
 " Door, or other Place, where Beggars are us'd to be af- 
 " .fcmblcd, for fear or" interrupting others in their Calling. 
 
 "XVI. We Will and Comma ik!, That fit) Beggar pre- 
 
 • " fume to come to the Shambles or Filh-Murket to buy 
 
 " either Flclh or Fifh, except in Cafes or" cxtrcam Ncccfhty, 
 
 " by rea fon of the ill Conlcquences may arilc from lo doing. 
 
 " XVII. We Will and Command, That none that Dance, 
 <c Sing, or Play on any Infiniment, to get Aim?, l'hall 
 " conlort or keep company with any other Beggars, but 
 "have their Stations apart, under pain of our high Dif- 
 " pleafure. 
 
 " XVIII. We Licence and Permit all fuch Beggars, as are 
 " fo difpos'd to have borrow'd Children, to the number 
 " of Four, but not above, their Ages being firft examined ; 
 " and in cafe they take Twins, the Elder mult be above 
 " Five Years old. The Woman that goes about with thcie 
 ,l Children, mult have one lucking at her Brea ft, and lead 
 " the others in her Hands ; and as for a Man, he muft 
 " carry one in his Arms, and lead the other, and not othcr- 
 " wife. 
 
 " XIX. We Will and Command, That thofe Beggars, 
 ! who have any Children, teach them to lie at Church- 
 " Doors, or any liich-like Places of publick Retort, there 
 " to take notice of who comes in, and who goes out ; of 
 " whom it fhall be lawful for them to beg an Alms for 
 " their poor Fathers or Mothers that lie fick and weak, or 
 " keep their Beds and have nothing to help themlelves 
 " withal • or elle, that have Four or Five lmall Children 
 ;< that are ready to ftarve for want of Bread : Provided al- 
 u ways, That this Liberty extend not to Children that are 
 " above Six Years of Age ; for when once they exceed that, 
 " they are to lhift for themlelves like liedg'd Birds, and, 
 " like Whelps that are fit to be enter 'd, noie out their 
 " Living, and bring home their Prey at convenient Hours, 
 " that their Parents may lee what they are able to do. 
 
 " XX. We Will and Command, That no Beggar fuffer 
 " his or her Children to be bound Apprentice to any Trade 
 u but their own Profefiion ; for therein they will greatly 
 " offendjby not following the Footlteps of their Forefathers, 
 c< and running a Courie quite contrary to that laudable 
 " Way wherein they have been bred. 
 
 « XXL We 
 
3£4 fb e Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 " XXI. We Will and Command, That no Beggar be 
 " within his Bed, or in his Lodging, at Seven a Clock in 
 " a Winters Morning, or at Five in the Summer, but be 
 <c out by Sun-riiing, or fooner if poflïble, to fee what 
 " Purchafe he can make ; and then to be in again by Sun- 
 * fet, or before, unlefs in extraordinary Cafes, and accord^ 
 " ing to the Directions of his Superiors. 
 
 " XXII. We Will and Command, That no Beggar, ex- 
 " cept fuch as are Sick and Weak, breakfàit upon any 
 u thing but what he gets that Day; for otherwise the 
 " Stock would be diminiin'd, and the Principal be im- 
 " pair'd. They are likewife oblig'd to wal"h their Mouths 
 c< before they eat, and not to carry Onions or Garlick a- 
 " bout in their Hands, as is but too cuftomary to do. 
 
 Ci XXIII. We Will and Command, That no Beggar 
 * £ prefume to play the Impoftor, commit any grois V ll- 
 " lany, fteai Houfhold-SturT, help to convey it away, 
 <c untile Houfes, ft rip Children, or do any the like bafe 
 i( Aóüon, upon pain of being excluded from our Brother- 
 " hood, and deliver'd over to the Secular Power. 
 
 " Laitlv, Our Will and Pleafure is. That every Beggar, 
 " when tie ihall be of full Age, that is, Fifteen Years 
 " old, ihall be no longer deem'd a Novice, but be held, 
 (i allow'd and efteem'd, as a Perfon that has fulfill'd the 
 " law, and comply'd with this Inttitution ; and although 
 ñ Two Years more be recmir'd to render him compleat, 
 " yet he ihall be now receiv'd for a Graduate : And having 
 " thus given Proof of his Ability and Parts, we ftriclly 
 " Enjoyn and Order, That he hold and enjoy all the 
 " Liberties, Exemptions and Privileges, by us or our An- 
 " ceftors at any Time granted ; but with this Condition, 
 " That he neither ihall now,nor at any time,forfakeour Ser- 
 " vice, without our efpecial Leave firlt had and obtain'd ; 
 €c and that, in the mean time, he ihew fuch Submifljon and 
 u Obedience to our Laws and Ordinances, as they require 
 5 of him under the Penalties before ipecify d. 
 
 CHAP, 
 
Book HI. of Guzman d'Alfarache^ 395 
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Guzman tells you of fome new Laws he leant d ; and 
 how he was fervd for begging at an unjeafonable Hour, 
 and afterwards laugh'd at by an old Proficient, who 
 infirucled him better : Then he acquaints you with the 
 daily PraBifes and Exercife both of himfelf and his 
 Companions, whirtby tlxy got wherewithal to live, not 
 only plentifully , but luxurioufy. 
 
 I Thank 5 J this good Man for all his Kindneflcs, but more 
 efpecially tor communicating to me theiè Laws and Or- 
 dinances, which I promis'd to oblerve inviolably. Over 
 and above thefe, there were feveral others handed down to 
 Pofterity by Tradition, and which the Italian Beggars had 
 eftabliih'd from time to time, according as Exigences re- 
 quir'd. The chief of thefe, and molt eileem'd, were thofc 
 compifd by one Alberti, call'd in Raillery, Me fer Morton, 
 who was look'd upon as Gensraliffimo of the Beggars in Rome. 
 In truth, he deferv'd to govern their Empire, inafmuch as 
 he was better made, better bred, and more truly qualify'd 
 for his Poft, than any of his PredeceiTors. He might well 
 be ftil'd, The Prince of Idlenefs and Cowardice, and Arch- 
 Beggar of all Chrifiendom. He would devour you at one 
 Meal all the Tripes and Entrails of two good Sheep, toge- 
 ther with the Puddings made out of them, and the Trotters 
 and Heads. With thefe, he eat Ten Pounds of Bread, and 
 drank in proportion. He would alone fcrape up as much 
 Orts as Ten others ; but which he had Occafion for, being 
 able, as I've already told you, to eat as much as Ten 5 and 
 then for the Money he got, that was reièrv'd wholly for 
 drinking. He made fo iliort work with every Thing, that 
 his Subjects or Valláis were fain to fupply his Occaiions 
 when he wanted, and which they always did with a great 
 deal of Pleaiure and Satisfaction. You never faw him fa- 
 ' tisfy'd either with Wine or Victuals. He always went 
 t>oth Summer and Winter opcn-brealtaL nor ever liad ío 
 much as a Shirt or Stocking on. His Head was likewifc 
 always bate 3 and to ièe how his white Skin ihin'd, 
 
 you 
 
$$6 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 you would have Sworn he had rubb'd it with Hogs- 
 Lard. 
 This famous Méjfèr Mor ¡on ordain'd, during his Reign, 
 
 " J. That every Beggar fhould carry about him a wooden 
 " Dili), or dry'd Pumpkin, but ib that they might not be 
 " feen. 
 
 " II. That no Beggar fhould draw Water in a Pitcher, 
 " or drink out of any Pot : but for that end fhould make 
 a ufe of a broad Tub, an Earthen Tar, or the like, where- 
 " in he fhould thruit his Head, and drink after the manner 
 " of a Bead 
 
 " III. That he that fhould not drink a found Draught 
 " after his Sallet, fhould be render'd incapable of drinking 
 " afterwards during his whole Repaît. 
 
 " IV. That no Beggar fhould buy or eat any Comfits, 
 " Conferves, or the like iweet Things. 
 
 " V. That every one fhould eat Salt or Pepper -with his 
 t: Meat, providing it had not been well leafon d before. 
 
 " VI. That your poor Rogues fhould be bound to fleep 
 t: upon the Ground, without either Pillow or Bolfter, and 
 " lying upon their Backs with their Faces upwards. 
 
 " VIL That having got fufnaent wherewithal to fpend, 
 cc he fhould go no more a Begging that* Day, but leave 
 tc ¡others to olean where he left off. 
 
 • " VIII. That no Body fhould take Care for to Morrow, 
 :c it being a Beggars particular Happmels to depend entirely 
 " upon Providence. 
 
 There were many more Articles of the fame kind, which 
 I have not room to inièrt. Thiaffirince of Beggars always 
 eat lying, lazying along, and would ever, botli Winter and 
 Summer, fleep without any Covering. I had almoit got all 
 his Laws by Heart ; but I neverthelefs took notice only of 
 fuch as were molt confiderable, and related to good Govern- 
 ment, which I were as fond of, as if my Fortune or Sal- 
 vation had depended on them. Notwithitanding, as I had 
 not had any long Experience of this Trade, and new Diffi- 
 culties daily offer'd, I did not fail to be oftentimes much 
 cmbarralsM, efpecially when my Ambition drove me upon 
 making new Experiments, which I were but too apt to da 
 Upon a Ho.liday, about the beginning of September, to* 
 
 wards 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 397 
 
 wards One cf the Clock in the Afternoon, 1 fuppeifd to 
 go forth during the great Heats, imagining that whofo- 
 ever ihculd Ice me beg at that time of Day, would imme- . 
 diatcly relieve me, as thinking I had moré than ordinary 
 Want,or I would never go abroad while my Comrades w I 
 fait, in their Hutches But I did not find Matters iuocc 
 as I expected; for after having rang'd over the two moit 
 famous Quarters of the City,without gaining any thing but 
 Injuries and Repu lies, I came at length to a Place, where 
 an unlucky Wench feeing me begging at that unieaionable 
 Hour, made no more ado, but without any other warning 
 than Agua v ; , guárdate deb.rxo ; Ware Water', Look to your 
 felves below there ; pour'd down a Cauldron of boiling Water. 
 on my Head, which ilic took care 1 fhould not be able to 
 avoid. Never was Man lb icalded and frighted as I was : 
 I began to cry out as loud as I could baul. Eviry Body 
 gather'd about me ; fome blam'd me, and lome the Maid. 
 Every one however pitied me ; and lome there were that 
 gave me their Charity, but to little purpofe fince I were 
 under lo great Pain. I muít nevertheleis have Patien 
 and bear all as well as I could. I went homewards, and 
 by the way faid to my lelf,Dye fee now what your fine Ex- 
 periments come to ? You have always lome notable Fancy 
 or other in your Head. You have richly deierv'd what 
 you have fuffer'd, and I don't at all pity you : YouM learn to 
 be wiier I hope another time. Thy Mains Genius tempted 
 thee, poor Guzman, and thou hadft a mind to be knowing 
 more than was convenient for thee to know, and thou hait 
 paid for it with a Vengeance. If thou wouldit know yet 
 more, thou muft return to the fame Place, and thou wilt 
 no doubt be further inftru&ed. Whilif I was thus realbn- 
 ning with my felf, I were got almoit to my Lodging. As 
 I came near, the good old Comrade with whom 1 once 
 lodg'd, call'd to me, and feeing me in that Pickle, and a 
 little melancholy, ask'd from whence I came, and whether 
 I had been bathing in a Hog-Tub, becauie I lmelt io of 
 Greafe ? Entring his Cellar, and fitting down upon an old 
 broken Form, 1 began to relate to him my whole Adven- 
 ture. He laugh'd heartily at it, and laid, I am very much 
 afraid, Guzman, thou art but indifferently qualify \i for this 
 new Employment. Thou wilt needs pretend to be Old-Dcg 
 ?<t it, and yet thou iecmit to me to be but a meer Novice. 
 
 Now 
 
3^8 The Life an J AU tons Part I. 
 
 Now you muft know this was an old Coriouan, a great 
 Proficient in Begging. He was both born and bred to it, 
 and refolved to die in it, and for Countries fake had a great 
 Friendihip for me, therefore would needs upon this Ôcca- 
 (ion give me all the ncceflary Advice he could. He told 
 me then, it was a Cultom in Rome to give no Alms after 
 Dinner, particularly among Perfons of Quality, who 
 took that Time to fleep, and did not care to be wak'd, efpe- 
 cially by a poor Beggar ; That after one had howl'd once or 
 twice at a Door, and leen no Body come, it was a fign ei- 
 ther no Body was in the Houle, or that no Body had a 
 mind to be there, and therefore the bell way were to be 
 gone, and not to lofe ones Time ; That whenever one found 
 a Door ihut, one ought not to open it for fear of Dogs, 
 who are natural Enemies to Beggars, or of difpleafmg the 
 People of the Houle, who might not care to have their 
 Privacies pry'd into by fuch Perfons as us. But that which 
 he taught me, which was raoft curious, was a Secret to raife 
 a Leprofie and Ulcers. He inform'd me likewife how to 
 make my Foot or Leg fwell, to become pale and wan in a 
 Moment, to disfigure my whole Body, and, in a word, to 
 do many other neceflary and important Tricks which he 
 had learn'd from his Father, who had in like manner been 
 a Matter in his Profeffion. He told me,he would conceal no- 
 thing from me that related to this Art, becaufe he faw a 
 kind of towardly Dilpofition in me to come to fomething 
 in time ; but perceiving I had a mind to go and change 
 my Cloaths, which were exceeding wet and naíty, he dii- 
 mifs'd me ; yet invited me to come and fee him lometimes, 
 and alTur'd me I would not find my Labour loft. I thank'd 
 him very kindly for his Favour, highly perfuaded that what 
 he laid was true, and lb return'd to my Lodging. 
 
 We oftentimes met together feveral of us to pradtife 
 our Parts, and try what Exclamations would fuit us beft, 
 and be likely to turn moit to Account. This was our 
 chiefelt Exercife a-nights ; and there were fome among us 
 that would invent new Forms and Methods of Benediction, 
 which they ibid to us, and got good Livelihoods by. And 
 all you'l lay was little enough, and no more than needed, 
 to move Men's Minds, and itir them up to Compaifion. 
 
 On Fcltival-Days wc would be up betimes, and run to 
 
 all Places where Pardons and Indulgences were ftirring, 
 
 A tlut 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarach¿ gpp 
 
 that we might provide our felves with good Pofts, and get 
 as near as we could to the Holy-Water, or the Chapel where 
 the Heavenly Ware was given out. Towards Night we 
 would make an Excurfion into the neighbouring Villages, 
 and not leave one unviiited. whence we would always re- 
 turn laden with Booty. When we faw any Perfon of Di- 
 íhnétion coming towards us, we would immediately bau! 
 out for Charity before he came near, that he might have 
 time to put his Hand in his Pocket ; for many times People 
 would not (top if we accofted them only juft as they came 
 to us. At other times, when we were to accoft a Com- 
 pany of People together, if we had but Time to prepare for 
 it, we would every one aét a different Part. One would 
 Halt as if he were Lame, another carry his Arm in a Sling, 
 a third twilt and quiver with his Lips as if he had the Pal- 
 iie, a fourth turn up his Eyes as if he were under the 
 greateft Affliction, a fifth would be carried upon his Com- 
 rades Shoulders as if he had loft the ufe of his Limbs, a 
 fixth would diftort his Legs as if he were Ricketty, a fe- 
 venth counterfeit Dumbneis, an eighth Blindnefs, a ninth 
 would tie his Legs upon two Stilts ; and, in a word, every 
 one, tho J we were never ib many, would appear in a dif- 
 ferent Pofture, each chufing that which he underftood beft. 
 We always let thofe go firft that were the molt skilful in 
 their Profeflion, that they might prepare the Way for the 
 reft, and move the People to Charity. If you had but 
 heard the various Benedictions we gave, and the Prayers we 
 made for their Profperity, you would have wonder'd. 
 Some we would wilh good Fortune, pray that God would 
 deliver others from their Enemies, accomplilh the Defires 
 of a third fort, give a fourth Children, bleis a fifth with 
 good Trade, preierve the Health, and efpecially the Sight 
 of a fixth, and ihower down on a lèventh all manner of 
 Felicity. Thelè, and a thoufand fuch-like Exprefllons we 
 had, which were always worth us ready Money. We call'd 
 this a ibrt of going to War, becauic we pradtis'd it in the 
 Country, and went in Troops. We were never better 
 pleas'd than when we heard of a Treat or Feaft, whither 
 we would be lure to come, but that in fmall Numbers, 
 for fear of out-numbring the Guefts, which in Spain is 
 look'd upon of unlucky Coniequence. God knows how 
 \\£ made up our Mouths here, for wc never tail a" to go 
 
 laden , 
 
4oo The Life and Anions PartL 
 
 laden away. We had admirable Noies to fmell out proper 
 Peaces, and your Houies with Porte-Cochcres were lure to 
 ■nough of our Company. Whether the Hotel belong'd 
 to a Cardinal, Am'bahador, or other great Man, it matter d 
 not; it" we could but expect tiic leatt welcome, we would 
 be certain to vifit it. By theie Means, tho' -we liad nothing 
 of our- own, we were Matters of every Thing, and pol- 
 lelVd even 'lome Superfluities that we luid no m inner of 
 Occafion for, whjen made us live, not only plentifully, 
 but luxuriouily. . 
 
 C II A ?. IV. 
 
 Guzman Difcourfes of Charity, and the many Benefits of 
 it. "Then he te/ls-, how he came to be reliez/ d by a cer- 
 tain Nobien/an, ii¡ho thçught lis Act- meritorious. After- ' 
 wards he proceed* to fl/nv what a free Life and Liberty 
 a Beggpr enjoys. 
 
 ONE fure and certain fign or our Predeftination, is the 
 Pity and Companion we have for our Neighbour's 
 Wants; for he tear can have a fellow-feeling of another's 
 Mifery, muit needs be defign d for Good himfelf. Charity 
 covers a multitude of Sins, and where there is Love, there 
 is God. The Almighty ever dwells in thole Hearts where 
 Charity and Mercy abound. Neither thé Gift of Prophe- 
 cy, the Under: landing of My limes, the Knowledge of God, 
 nor Faith it lelf, can lubfiit without Charity. To love my 
 Neighbour as my lelf, is the greateft and moft perfect of 
 Sacrifices, becauie it is ofier'd up in the Temple of the 
 Living God. He that ilia 1 1 be charitable toother?, fhaJl be . 
 fure to find tile Lord merciful to .him at the lair Day. 
 As we merit nothing of our felves at the Hands of God, 
 and as Charity is the Gift of Heaven, we ought to beg it 
 on our Knees to moiften the Drought of our Souls, and 
 mollifie the Hardnels of our "Heaj 
 
 Riches being lo nearly ally d as" they are to Pride, they 
 are oftentimes the Occafjon or all torts of Vices, and weak- 
 en and enervate our Virtue. They are a Precipice to then: 
 Owners, a Tyrannizing Lord, and a Traiterons SJave. Tbty 
 
Book III. cf Guzman d'Alfarache. 401 
 
 are alio of the Nature of Sugar, which being fweetatid 
 plealant, heats when eaten with hot Things, and cools 
 when eaten with cold. They are to them that hive them a 
 means to Purchafe eternal Happinefs with, and that by 
 Charity. One that is really Riel), may become Peor by 
 comforting and relieving the Afflicted ; but he ihall by i».o 
 means lole his Reward. 
 
 I flood one Day at the Gate of a Cardinal's Palace, muf- 
 fled up in a Cloak of fo many Colours, that you c?uld net 
 well tell which it was originally of; but, as bad as it was, 
 it defended me from the Wet, and that was all 1 rcquir'd or 
 it. As I was thus Handing, a certain Nobleman, who was 
 coming to make a Vifit to his Enimnce, chane'd to ipy me, 
 who feeing me in that Condition, verily thought 1 was ei- 
 ther Sick, or had an Ague. The Truth was, t had waited 
 all that Night at that Gate in hopes of feme good Fortune, 
 and finding my fclf cold in the Morning, which I might 
 very well be, it being Winter, I had thruft my Nofe with- 
 in my Cloak to warm it. This Lord, taking Pity of me, 
 ftop'd, and call'd to me. I having drawn my Phyz out of 
 its Ncft, and feeing a Peifon of Quality fo near me, began 
 to be much furpris'd. He looking earneftly at me, I blufh'd, 
 which confirm'd him in his Thought, that I was miierable. 
 He bid me wrap my fclf up as before, telling me, he plain- 
 ly faw I was not well. At the lame inftant, he rut his 
 Hand in his Pocket, and pulling forth a handful of Silver, 
 gave it me, which furpris'd me yet more than at firft. 
 Having fo done, he went from me, lifting up his Eyes, 
 and ièeming to thank God that he liad an Opportunity to 
 do io great an a& of Charity. Nay, pcrhr.p?, lie thus rea- 
 fon'd with himfelf : ^Tho' I am of no better Make than 
 this young Man, nor it may be of better Parentage, I fleep 
 in a good Bed while he wakes, and am iheltcr'd from 
 the Wind and Weather whilft he is expos'd to both : I 
 am well cloathd while he is almoft naked ; and while I 
 am plentifully fed, he, perhaps, is half-ftarv'd : I am in 
 Health, while he is Sick: I am well receiv'd, while he is 
 flighted : And whereas thou might'ft, O Lord, have de- 
 graded me, and put me in his Place, thou haft exalted me, 
 and made me able to relieve him. • Why ihould I not then 
 do it ? I fhould be the worit of Men if I neglected it ; I muft 
 return part of what thou haft lb liberally beftow'd on me : 
 
 D d t 
 
40 2 The Life and AUions Part I, 
 
 Ï am happy, I am eafie, I am blefs'd, I am fatisfy'd, and the 
 like. 
 
 For my part, 1 think this Nobleman was much in the 
 right, to do Good when it was in his Power. Such good 
 Men as he are in a fair way to gain Heaven by our Means, 
 whilft we like Wretches lofe it by the fame Method. We 
 are ítill craving and begging, tho' many times we are in no 
 Want ; and by that means often rob, as it were, thofe that 
 are under Neceffity, by depriving them of what they ihould 
 only have. They can follow no other way to get their 
 Livelihoods, while it is in our Power to purfue another 
 Courfe for Subfiftence. But there are Rogues of all Trades, 
 and Roguery in all Things. The wicked Difpofition of 
 Man corrupts every thing, and there is nothing good in the 
 World but is affe&ed with it more or lefs. We are frill full- 
 gorg'd, and greater Gluttons and Drunkards the World 
 cannot afford ; our Bellies were ready to burft with Gor- 
 mandizing, and our Brains to flame with Bowzing. Your 
 Senators of Rome could not live more Merrily than we did; 
 for Ave were as good Trencher-men and Pitcher-men as the 
 beft of them. And altho' we are not fo much refpected, 
 nor live in th.it Repute and Efteemas they did ; yet I will 
 be bold to aver, our manner of living has a great deal 
 more Eafe in it, and lefs Trouble. 
 
 We have Two fuch Pnvileges,that.#<tf»e in the mon flou- 
 rifhing Eltate of its Republick never had the like. One is, 
 that we have a Right to Ask and Receive, without any 
 manner of Shame cr Confufion, which no other Condition 
 of Life can boait. Nothing is more grating, than to be o- 
 blig'd to ask even of one's own Brother, tho' one is fure not 
 to be denied ; becauie he that asks, always buys very dear 
 what is given him ; and he that gives, for the moft part fells 
 it dear enough too. A poor Beggar is not lenfible of this : 
 He has every thing given him without Trouble, and he re- 
 ceives it without fain. If there be any that have the like 
 Privileges with us Beggars, it muft be Sovereign Princes, 
 who ask Alms of their Subjects without Confufion ; and 
 they for the moft part give them without any good Will. 
 The difference however lies here ; That what they have from 
 the Publickjthey in a manner Extort from fuch as are poorer 
 than themfelves, while we ask only of the Rich, and thoiè 
 that can well afford to give us a Benevolence. The other 
 
 Privilege 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 403 
 
 Privilege we Beggars enjoy, is, That we can tafte all the 
 Pleafures of Life,without rear of being call'd to Account for 
 them ; nay, with greater Freedom, Tranquility and Rellifh, 
 than any other fort of People whatfoever, tho' in never fo 
 good Circumftances. For firft, What Feaft is there whither 
 we don't come without inviting ? And what Ragout fit nice 
 Difh, which we do not dip a Finger in ? A Beggar prefently 
 finds out all the good Houfes, and no Perlón knows fo well 
 where there are the belt Cooks. As for the Knowledge of 
 what paiTes in the World, no Body has fo good Intelligence 
 as we Beggars, who go every where, hear every thing, and 
 fee all. Nothing is hid from us i We are look'd upon as 
 infignificant and difinterefted Perlons, and therefore no Se- 
 cret is kept from us. Nothing of Importance can pafs,either 
 without Doors or within, but what we foon hear, and are 
 able to make a faithful Relation of. But if we may thus 
 hear all without offending any Body, we may likcwife fee 
 all without giving any Body the leaft Disturbance. How 
 many fine Women have I itar'd upon in the Churches, and 
 elfewhere, whom their Lovers durft not fo much as lift an 
 Eye towards? How many Things have I feen, that I lhall 
 take no Notice of here for fear of going too far ; and which 
 have been acted with Indifference, becaule 'twas only a Beg- 
 gar that faw them ? But lome there are, who believe a Beg- 
 gar can have nothing to do with Love • but they are mi- 
 itaken ; for without diving far into Hiftory, I can bring 
 many Examples to the contrary. I could name lome Beg- 
 gars of my Acquaintance if 1 pleas'd, who, in Matters of 
 this kind, have had Favours enough from the fair Sex, to 
 make the Rich bluih with Envy and Madneis ; but I have 
 better Things to entertain you with. All I would dcfire 
 you to believe, is, That Poverty and Love are not incom- 
 patible. The Poor lometimes have hadas good Fortune in 
 Love-Artairs as the Rich, and oftentimes at the Expence of 
 the Rich ; but this is a Myltery every Body cannot pene- 
 trate. There are lome Beggars, who, for all their Tattets 
 and Patches, will be iooner receiv'd into certain Places, 
 than the greate ft Lord with all his Gold and Equipage; 
 and there are lome Women will put greater Confidence in 
 the Dilcretion of a Beggar, who knows how to manage an 
 Amour, than in the Levity ot a rich Man, who can never 
 be at reft till he has ruin d her that granted him the Favour. 
 
 V d 2 How 
 
404 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 How many Ladies have taken a Pleafure in giving me Alms 
 with their own Hands? I know not how other Beggars 
 have fàr'd, for thefe are Myfteries are not reveafd even a- 
 mongft us ; but for my own part, I can fafely aver ? That 
 having taken many a Lady by the Hand, I have kifs'd it 
 heartily, and ihe has not been dilpleas'd at my Prefumption. 
 I was Young, and it may be that was the Occafion of it. 
 But all this is nothing in refpcct of what I could tell you, 
 if this were a proper Place for it. In truth, what gave us 
 the greatelt Pleafure, was the fight of what we gotof our 
 own, and which was a more fubftantial Satisfaction to us, 
 than to fee never fo much of another Bodies. In effect, w r c 
 w r ere richer than they ; for what they had, was kept for the 
 ufe of other People, to maintain their Houfes, and pay their 
 Debts; whereas ours was purely enjoy 'd by our ielves. 
 We ow'd nothing, and therefore had nothing to pay : Wc 
 were ferv'd by no Body, and confequently had no Body to 
 maintain. Our fmall Treafure was div'd into by none but 
 our own Hands ; and we were ever fo Cautious as to carry 
 our whole Stock about us, fometimes iew'd up in one cor- 
 ner of our Rags, and fometimes in another ; but there was 
 always more than iuflicicnt to buy a new Coat. Every 
 Night we went to Bed, w r e could fay we flept upon Gold 
 and Silver; and we could not fail at length to grow 
 rich, for we fpent little* or nothing, and were always a get- 
 ting. What is molt true, is, That fome among us, efpeci- 
 ally the old Dons, liad heap'd up fuch Hoards, as would 
 have fufhe'd any other People to have liv'd contentedly all 
 their Days, without any more Trouble ; but fuch is the 
 Pleafure of Scraping, that a Man cannot eafily get rid of it, 
 efpecially Beggars, who are generally more Covetous than 
 other Folks. They would have other People liberal, but 
 they will be poor-fpirited and niggardly themfelves. I will 
 give you an Inftance of Three Qualities belonging to us 
 Beggars, in one of our Brotherhood who has made a great 
 Noile in the World, and may pais for one of the molt £h 
 mous among us. 
 
 CHAR 
 
Book III. of Guzman cTAlfarache. 405 
 
 CHAP. V. 
 
 iGuzman tells a flrange Story of one of his Frofeffton, anJ 
 then proceeds to cry up a Beggars Life in oppofition to all 
 ethers. At length he acquaints you } henv he ivas fervd at 
 Gasta /or counterfeiting. 
 
 "IT is a very common and natural Thing for all forts of 
 "^ poor People to be indubious, and ftrive Night and Day 
 to deliver*themfelves from the Miiery they are under ; but 
 to make ufe of Knavery, Villany, and even Cruelty for 
 that End, is a little too much. This is, nevertheleis, what 
 may be íeen praélis'd every Day with us Beggars, eipecially 
 the Italians ; among whom, the Genoefes are reputed to be 
 the moft Cruel and moft Covetous. This, fome will tell 
 you, is. the Reafon they have had the Name of White Moors 
 given them, but I have heard other Reafons which feem'd 
 more )ui\, with which, however, I will not trouble you, 
 that I may not be eternally amufing you with Trifles, tho' ? 
 to fay Truth, thefe are not altogether fo. However it be, 
 he that I am about to tell you this furpriiing Story of, was 
 Son to a Genoefe, and Native of a Village not far from the 
 City of Genoa. He was a Perfon thoroughly endu'd with 
 thofe Qualities that are commonly attributed to the Genoefes, 
 and one, whole Wit was not always employ 'd in doing 
 Good. His Name was Pantalon Caflelletto, a Beggar by pro- 
 feffion, who married at Florence, and had one Son by his 
 Wife, who was no fooner born than his Father thought of 
 a Way to procure him a fuflicicnt Livelihood, without obli- 
 ging him to Work. The Proverb in that Country fiys, 
 That Son is truly happy, whofe Father goes to the Devil, but for 
 my part l- think him moil unhappy, it being next to Im- 
 
 foifible that ill-got Wealth ihould defcend to the third Heir. 
 have known feveral Examples of this my felf, apd this 
 was one, as you will find by what follows. 
 
 Cajlellctto thus married to a Woman of his ProfefTion, for 
 you never knew a Beggar care to match with any other, and 
 having a Child by Her, whom he might very well have 
 maintain d out or what he had already got, and got daily, 
 
 Pd 3 was 
 
40 £ The Life an J Anions Parti. 
 
 J^as not neverthelefs contented therewith, nor would truft 
 "is Son to Fortune on that account. He rather chofe to 
 have recourfe, for his Advancement, to one of the moft un- 
 natural and unheard-of Barbarities that ever enter'd into the 
 Heart of Man. This was, to maim and cripple his Son in 
 all his Members, which was, however, but too common 
 for Beggars of all Nations to do in fome meafure • who, 
 when they had a mind to excite and raife Pity in any Paf- 
 fengers or Standers-by, have been accuftom'd to diflocate 
 and break the Bones of their young and tender Infants, 
 thereby rendering them Monftrous, and confequcntly Ob- 
 jects of Charity. But our Genoefe had a mind to. excell all 
 others in Cruelty, and give .his Son fuch a diftorted Form 
 as had never been feen before. Now you muft know this 
 was not the Work of a Day, but of many Months, nay of 
 fome Years j for whilft he was growing, by means of Ban- 
 dages, and fometimes hot Water, he hinder'd the Members 
 from having their due Nourifhment, till fuch time as the 
 Body was brought to the Figure I am going to reprefent. 
 As tor his Mind, which this Villain of a Father could not 
 touch, he had naturally a great deal of Wit, fpoke well, 
 and to the Purpoie ; but for his Perfon, which this un- 
 natural Dog had an entire Difpofal over, he render'd it fo 
 deform'd and frightful, that nothing could be more dis- 
 figur'd. To begin with his Head, it had been fo wrung a- 
 bout, that it almoft ftood quite backwards, and his Face 
 pointed over his right Shoulder. The upper and neither 
 Parts of it were fo bow'd together, that they feem'd one 
 Lump, and you could hardly Yee his Eyes. His Forehead 
 and Temples, which had been branded, were full of Wrin- 
 kles and Scars. He was Humpd both behind and before, 
 and had fo little of a Human Figure, that he rather feem'd 
 a huge Bottom of Yarn. His Legs and Feet were turn 'd 
 upwards, and perch'd over his Shoulders, being both dil- 
 ¿ointed and wither'd. The only found Parts about him 
 were his Arms and Tongue, which had been left unhurt be- 
 caufe he had moft Occaiion for them. He was fhut up in a 
 Cage like a jackdaw, and plac'd on a little Afs, whom he 
 could guide through the Wires of his Prifon. He had, as I 
 have already told you, a great deal of Wit, and was excel- 
 lent at Repartees; but he had this in common with other 
 Beggars, that altho' he could put good CJoaths on his Back, 
 
 he 
 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 407 
 
 he wore only Rags, the fpeedier to excite People's Charity; 
 He got a great deal of Money, but that as much by his 
 witty Expreffions, as the Companion he rais'd by his De- 
 formity. He liv'd after this manner till he was 72 Years of 
 Age and lome Months, at the end of which, as miferableas 
 he was, he had a great deal of difficulty to die. Finding, 
 however, his Hour was come, and that he muit fubmit to 
 it, and knowing that there was a God, who would punifh 
 and reward eternally, he began to reflect, on his part Life. 
 He faid, it was no longer time for Raillery and Jefting; 
 therefore he immediately fent for a Confeiîor, whom he 
 knew to be a Perfon of Piety and Learning. He difcours'd 
 him about all his Affairs, as well Temporal as Spiritual; 
 and was defirous to make nis Will, which he endited hiin- 
 felÇ in few Words, after the following manner. 
 
 " Imprimis , I recommend my Soul to God, who gave it, 
 " and my Body to the Earth, to be decently interr'd in my 
 " own Pariih. 
 
 " Item, My Will is, that ray Afs be fold, and that the 
 " Money arifing from thence be employ 'd on my Burial : 
 " And as for my Pack-Saddle, I bequeath it to the Great 
 " Duke, my Lord and Sovereign, to whom it of right be- 
 " longs, and whom I hereby nominate and appoint my 
 " Sole Executor, and Uni verlà 1 Heir. 
 
 He died fome few Days after ; and as every Body knew 
 him to be a merry-conceited Fellow, and one that was full 
 of his pleafant Jefts and Fancies, they thought he would 
 have died as he had liv'd, but they round their Miilake 
 when they law his Will, which now began to be made 
 pub lick. The Great Duke, who was one of the fir it that 
 had been told the Story of this Beggar to divert him, had 
 a different Sentiment concerning him; and as he belie v'd 
 him to be not only a pleafant but difcreet Man, he fancied 
 there mult be fomething more than ordinary in the Matter. 
 He therefore commanded all the Tettators Goods and Chat- 
 tels, and more efpecially the Pack-Saddle, to be brought to 
 Court, that he might take cogniiance of them. Being 
 brought accordingly, he caus'd the Pack-Saddle to be forth- 
 with unrip'd from one End to the other, and thereby diico- 
 ver'd lèverai Pieces of Gold of all kinds that were taien out, 
 
 " P d 4 to 
 
4o 8 The Lije and Allions Part I. 
 
 to the Value of 3600 Crowns. It came afterwards to be 
 known, it was by the Advice of his Confeííor that he had 
 fo dhpos'd of his Eftate, for that Perfon gave him to under- 
 hand what he had did not properly belong to him, and con- 
 fequently he would do well, for th" Salvation of his Soul, 
 to reflore it to his natural Lord, the Great Du|ie, under 
 ■whofe Protection he and all his Brethren liv'd. The comply- 
 ing with this Advice ibon quieted his Confcience, and the 
 Great Duke, like a good and pious Prince, and an honeft 
 and faithful Executor, employ 'd all this Money for a perpe- 
 tual Mafs to be faid ib many times a Year for his Teitator's 
 Soul. What do you fay now of the Pleafure this unhappy 
 Wretch conceived in his Gold, which to him was in lieu of 
 every thing? I dare pfomifè you have never had die like. 
 
 Whenever I reflect on the Pleafure and Tranquility of a 
 Beggars Life, I cannot think the World can have any like it ; 
 for, in fhort, it is to have your Table ready fpread, your 
 £ed ready made, your Chamber ready furnifn d, your Scrip 
 and Gourd ready filfd, and, in a Word, all your Bufi- 
 nefs ready prepared for you. You have no Reafon to fear 
 any Thieves ,• no bad Weather can hurt you ; let it Rairt 
 or Shine, 'tis all one to you. You are never concerna a- 
 bout your Harveft or Seed-time, nor fear the Ravages of an 
 Army. You never 'trouble your Head with Modes, Fa-¿ 
 inions, Cuftoms or Ceremonies. You have no occafion for 
 Flattery or Lies to advance your felf ; are under no Care to 
 find wherewithal to fupport your Equipage and Train, and 
 maintain your Houfe and Family in its neceflary Splendour; 
 You have no Obligation upon you to give Vifits, or receive 
 any; normare ever perplex'd with thinking when 'tis proper 
 to make Court to onej and when to another; or how you 
 ihall approach fuch a Great Lord, or iuch a Prime Miniiter. 
 You are never oblig'd to be up betimes that you may get early 
 to the Anti-Chamber ? and where your Bufmefs is only to 
 /hew that you can wait and fawn like a Spaniel. You are 
 never jealous nor envious of another's Fortune, nor under- 
 mine any Body to get a Caufe or a Place from him. You 
 never boa ft of your Birth, your Grandeur, your Drefs, 
 jour Equipage, your Houfe-keeping, your Wit, your great- 
 Exploits, nor your Services. Ycu never tell how well you 
 have been receiv'd, how much you have been admir'd, nor 
 how diligently you have been hearken d ta You never raij 
 
 ■■• at 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 409 
 
 at any Body, nor flander him that has juft before fpoke 
 well of you. O! how many fine Things could I fay far- 
 ther on tliís Subject, if I were not afraid to dilbblige and 
 tire the Reader, whole Picture I very often draw, while I 
 leem to paint thole of other People ! The Quality eipecial- 
 ly excell in Slander and Calumny, tho' Vices lb very un- 
 worthy of them ; iniomuch, that to mention a Man of 
 Quality, is as much as to lay, he is a Perlón that does no- 
 thing but flander and backbite from Morning till Night, 
 that has always fome Story or other to tell you to another's 
 Prejudice, and oftentimes of his beit Friends or neareft Re- 
 lations; but this only to divert himfelf or his Company, 
 at the Expence of his Neighbours or Kindred. But we mult 
 ftop here, and proceed no further, for this is a Road will 
 lead us to the World's-End. None of thefe Vices, never- 
 thelef?, are to be found among us Beggar?, who are na- 
 turally exempt from them and their ill Conlequences, which 
 mult not be reckon'd the leaftPart of our Happineis. 
 
 By what Rule or Compais mult a Man fteer, whofe For- 
 tune depends upon another's Pleafure? If it be Good, he 
 mu(l be contented to wait a long time for it ; and if Bad, 
 "twill come but too foon. Whatever Care he takes of his 
 Conduce to avoid Reproach, he ihall always have fome- 
 thing faid againft him, either becaule he has or has not 
 done fomewhat. Tho' what he has done be allow 'd by 
 moit to be perfectly well performed, yet will there not 
 want thofe that will give an ill Turn to, or falfe Interpre- 
 tation of it, according as they are enclin'd. If he talks, 
 tho' never lo much to the purpofe, he ilia 11 be reckon'd a 
 Babbler ; if he fays nothing, a Sot or a Fool. If he dif- 
 courfes of high and delicate Matters, he l'hall be ask'd what 
 he has to do with them ; and if of low and mean, every 
 Body will defpife him. If he humbles himfdf, he is Mean- 
 lpinted; if he ftands upon his Merit, he is Proud and Self- 
 conceited. If he's prudent and moderate, he's thought a 
 Coward ; and if too jealous of his Honour, a Roylter. If 
 he lias a bad Look ? he's counted Impudent ; if a modcrt 
 one, a Hypocrite; if he laughs, he's accus'd of Levity ; and 
 if he frowns, of Arrogance. If he's grave, he's reckon'd 
 Saturnine • and if aftable, too Mercurial. If he's cour- 
 teous, he's {lightly regarded ; if auftere, exceedingly ab- 
 jiorfd; if jult, he's eftcem'd cruel; and if merciful, a 
 * ûllv 
 
4 1 o The Life and Aiïiotis Part I. 
 
 filly Oaf. In a Word, to how many other falfe Conftru- 
 ¿tions are People's Characters fub;e¿t, according as they are 
 well or ill in the Opinions of certain Gentlemen who fet 
 up for Lords Paramount, and decide every Thing as they 
 think fit, right or wrong. I was, at this time, in fuch a 
 Condition, 28 I thought, that no Accident could difturb my 
 Tranquility, but Time and Fortune, that fuffer nothing to 
 be permanent in this World, at length entrench'd upon my 
 Repofe. This happen'd at Gaeta, whither I went, to fee if 
 their Charity exceeded that oí Rome, imagining that, skillful 
 as I was in my Trade, Doles and Benedictions would iTiower 
 clown upon me like Hail. As loon as I were got to this 
 Place, I planted my felf at a Church-Door with a fort of 
 fcabby Head, which I knew very well how to counterfeit. 
 The Governor of the Town happen'd to come by, who 
 calling his Eyes upon me, pitied me, and gave me Alms. 
 This good Luck lafted for fome few Days, but as Covetouf- 
 inefs at lait burfts the Bag, I on the next Feftival refolv'd to 
 change my Trick, as what had been too much us'd. I there- 
 fore determine to make my felf an Ulcer in my Leg, which 
 was one of the Secrets I had learnd of the famous Cordovan. 
 I prepared all was neceflary for that purpofe, and thinking 
 ray Leg would bring me in a good Harveft, I went to 
 Church, where I was no fooner arriv'd, but placing my 
 felf fo as I might be feen, I began to howl in luch a Tone 
 as if I had been exceedingly afflicted with my Ulcer, but 
 with that ruddy and healthy Countenance, as fufficiently 
 bely'd my Complaints. Good People, however, took no 
 notice of that, and I had almoit the whole Alms to my felf. 
 For my Sins, I believe the Governor came likewife to that 
 Church to hear Mafs, who feeing me, knew me by my 
 Voice in fpite of my Difguife, for I had then an old 
 Clout on, whjch reach'd even to my Eyes, but did not 
 cover my Head, fo that it plainly appear cl my Scabs were 
 gone. This Governor was one who had leen a great deal, 
 and confequently knew not a little. He could not imagine 
 how, in io ihort a time as fince he law me laft, I could 
 naturally have fo large an Ulcer as I complain'd of, or how 
 it was poiïible I could be fo foon curd of the fcabby Head 
 I pretended to have. He doubted there was iome Roguery 
 in the Cafe, and as it was his Duty to enquire into fuch 
 Enormities, and puniih fuch Rogues as I feern d to be, he 
 
 was 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 411 
 
 was refolv'd to know the Truth. He therefore feeing me 
 almoft naked, took the Pretence of proffering me a Shirt 
 if I would go home with him. I went accordingly, not 
 diftruiting any Thing, for if I could have guefs'd the leaft 
 at his Defign, not even his two lubberly lackies that fol- 
 low'dhim mould have been able to force me along; but it 
 was my Fate to be lb us'd, becauiè I had deferv'd it. Be- 
 ing come to his Houfe, he look'd more earneitly at me than 
 before, which I thought foretold no Good, and then deman- 
 ded of me, if I were not the Perfon he had feen the other 
 Day at fuch a Church-Door with a fcalded Head. I 
 change! Countenance, and had not Impudence enough to 
 tell him I was not. He then order'd my Clout to be taken 
 off, and found my Head was as whole as his own ; upon 
 which, he proceeded to ask me by what extraordinary Mean» 
 I had been cur'd fo fpeedily. 1 could not tell what to fay, 
 fo abaüYd I was, and he minding little what I did fay, 
 went on, and cry'd, Is it credible that fuch a young, lufty, 
 well-iook'd Lad as you are ihould have an Ulcer in his Leg? 
 I can by no means believe it. I know not, my Lord, an- 
 lWer'd 1 with a very mournful Air, how it comes to pais, 
 unlefs it be that uod is pleas'd it ihould be fo. Having 
 fpoke this, I no longer doubted what Reception was pre- 
 paring for me, and therefore caft my Eyes towards the Door 
 to fee if I could make my Elcape, but found it lock'd. The 
 Governor then call'd for a Surgeon to examine my Leg, and 
 one was immediately brought. He was, it feems, a very 
 skillful Peribn, yet at firlt doubted whether my Sore was 
 not as bad as I pretended ; but after the Governor had taken 
 him afide a little, and whifper'd him, he detected the whole 
 Cheat, and thereupon told his Excellency, I had no more 
 Ailment in my Leg than he had in his Eye; to which he 
 added, if he would be pleas'd to order fomc hot Water to be 
 brought, he ihould immediately fee the Fallacy. Hereupon 
 Water was brought, when fetting himfelf about unrolling 
 and unbinding my Leg, and ridding it of all its Linen 
 and Plaiiters, ne made it plainly appear, by well rubbing 
 and waihing, that it had no other Ulcer than wliat I 
 brought into the World with me. The Governor feeing 
 this/ was greatly aftoniih'd, and immediately order'd I 
 ihould be paid the Charge of the Cure. I remain'd as it 
 Vrere in a Trance, and was ready to fwoon, not knowing 
 
 what 
 
4 1 2 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 .what either to fay or do ; but hid it not been for my Youth» 
 which alwa) s flood me in good Head, I had been much 
 better paid than I was, yet I had thirty good Liihes 
 tiiven me, which were more than iuiheient to iati;- 
 fy for my Journey, and had a Promile of deuble the 
 Number m cale I ever return'd to that Town any more, 
 out of which I was immediately thruft. I obey'd this Jail 
 Order with great Exaótneis and Diligence, making what 
 haft I could away, and ever now and then ihrugging up 
 my Shoulders, but never lb much as looking once behind 
 me, not caring to remember even the Road I went, unlefs 
 the Wounds I had, put me in mind of it, which they fre- 
 quently did. I never ftop'd till I came into the Pope's Ter- 
 ritories, which I look'd upon as an AJylum, and no fooner 
 faw my dear Rome but the Tears came into my Eyes, re- 
 flecting feverely upon my pa ft Folly of having left a plenti- 
 ful Country, and the Delight of Beggars, to go and have 
 my Back flaw'd for nothing at G acta. 
 
 CHAP. VI. 
 
 Guzman difcourfes cf Alms-giving, and the many Ad- 
 vantages of it : And then tells you how, upon his return 
 to Rome and falling to his old Trade of Begging, he 
 "ivas taken in by a Cardinal 3 pretending to have a fore 
 Leg, who order d him to be curd by two Surgeons, -who 
 ¿greeing "with him, impose on hts Eminence, and got a 
 great deal of Money. He laftly acquaints you how, be- 
 ing cured, the Cardinal took a fancy to him, and made 
 him his Page. 
 
 •TIS a common thing for young Fellows to fee no far- 
 ■*• ther than their Noíes, efpeciaÜy in Cafes that are nice, 
 and require a ferious Reflection. It is not Understanding 
 they want, but Prudence, which is the Product of Expe- 
 rience, and Experience of Time. Unripe Fruit has not that 
 grateful Taft it afterwards comes to have, but is iharp and 
 unpleafant ; fo a young Man, who is not yet arriv'datYears of 
 Maturity, wants his true Taite to make Reflections onThings, 
 and fails in the Knowledge of what they are. Jt is no won- 
 er then he ihould err in this Particular, but would be 
 
 rather. 
 
 é 
 
Book III. óf Guzman d'Alfarache. 41 3 
 
 father if he did not. A Youth, however, of good Parts, 
 is more capable of thefe Confiderations, and readier to re- 
 ceive the Imprefllon of them. For my own part, lean 
 truly fay, 1 never had any unlucky Thing happen to me, 
 but it was immediately accompanied with a Moral Re- 
 fteétion, which exceeded a Peribn of my Years ; and tho' 
 the impetuofity of my Humour, as well as the unfteddi- 
 nefs of my Youth, foon made me to forget both this Re- 
 flection, and the Occafionof it, yet there remained enough 
 with me to prefcrve me from lèverai future Diforder?, into 
 which I ihould otherwife have fallen. I was iènfible, for 
 Example, that all my Rogueries and Ways of cheating o- 
 thers, were in the End but cheating my ielf, and that I 
 robb'd fuch as were poorer than I of thofe Alms that of 
 right belong'd to them. The poor Man, however, cannot 
 deceive, tho' it was his Intention to do fo, becaule he that 
 gives, regards not to whom he gives, but for whole lake. 
 But, laid I to my lelf, if I have Reafon to rejoice, in that 
 Alms have been fo plentifully beftow'd on me, I have no 
 lefs to quake and tremble ; for over and above that the 
 Means I have made ule of for this End have been unlawful, 
 I have oftentimes had no occafion for thefe Alms, and being 
 otherwife able to get my Livelihood, I ihould one time or 
 other be oblig'd to the like Refutation that the Florentin 
 thought himlelf. Nevcrthelefs, when I confider'd certain 
 rich old Fellows, who would be an Hour a fumbling for a 
 poor Soufe or a fmgle Blanco to give you, and when they 
 were without iuch, you were lure to go without Charity - 
 thefe Wretches, I lay, would juitly raife my Indignation, 
 and I could not forbear crying, O ye miferable Creatures, 
 if I deceive you, 'tis what you richly deierve. We Poor 
 are like Cyphers in Arithmetick, which go for nothing of 
 themlelves, but being added to Figures, make great Sums. 
 Do not you examine, whether the fcerfon deierves Alms or 
 not ; whether others have given him any thing, or nothing ; 
 if he's able to Work or not ; if he's old or young ; well or 
 ill cloath'd ; fick or in health : All thefe Things relate no- 
 thing to you, and ièrve only to excufe your Avarice, as 
 you think ; but your Bufinefs is to do Acts of Charity for 
 God's fake, in whole Name it is demanded of you. But 
 that you may better know what Charity is, I will add a 
 lhort Story from one Sôphronins } whom Canifitt* t a very 
 
 learned 
 
414 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 learned and pious Man, quotes. He fays, a Widow Wo- 
 man having one only Daughter, who was very fair and 
 beautiful, the Emperor Zeno became ib enamour'd of her, 
 that he could not iatisfy his Paflion, unlefs he enjoy'd her ; 
 and not being able to do it by fair Means, he us d Force, 
 and deflowred her. The afflicted Mother, having a more 
 than ordinary Veneration for the Blefled Virgin, went often 
 to pay her Devotion at her Shrine, begging both Juftice 
 and Revenge. The Author fays, one Day as this poor Wo- 
 man was thus praying, fhe heard a Voice from Heaven lay 
 to her, Ton would have been revenga, and had Jufiice done yon 
 ter now, had not the Emferors Charity bound up the Hands of 
 God. Now what do you do with all your Wealth, you 
 that have far more than you have occafion for ? Why do 
 you not employ it in aiTifting the Poor ? You may well ex- 
 pect God mould take it from you to give it them, which 
 you know he may eafily do. He that gave it, can require it 
 again when he pleafes. You are not made of, better Clay 
 than I ; if you think fo, you are miftaken, we are both of 
 the fame. You have been a little more taken care of in- 
 deed by Heaven, and that's what you ought to pay your 
 Acknowledgments for, by relieving the Poor who are re- 
 commended to you, and for whofe Ufe alone you have fo 
 great Riches given you. Tis more your Advantage to give, 
 than theirs to receive. God has not ib much made the Ricn 
 for the Poor, a s the Poor for the Rich. 
 
 But I perceive you begin to think to turn me into Ridi- 
 cule, and vainly to make my Procefs upon what I've al- 
 ready faid, that Alms ere to be given without Choice or 
 Diiun&ion to all iuch as ask them of us. I agree with 
 you, that Order ought to be obierv'd as well in Charity as 
 other Matters, and I fay nothing to hinder it, I wifh only 
 you would always obferve it ; all I pretend to tell you once 
 more, is, That you ought to give Alms for God's iake, and 
 not trouble your Head whether the Perlons deièrve them or 
 not, for that would be doing Pleafure to your ielf, and be- 
 coming Charitable for other Ends than what you fhould. 
 It is the Governors and Magistrates Bufmefs to enquire 
 who are poor, and who only pretend to be fo. They ard 
 i>ot plac'd in their Offices meerly to make good Cheer, di- 
 vert themfelves, and take their Pleafure, but to watch over 
 the Neceflities of the Publick, to lament the Mi feries of the 
 
 * Peo- 
 
 * * 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. '4 1 5 
 
 People, and to reward, afliit and punilï), as every one ihall 
 deferve. 
 
 I was now come once more to Rome, which I law before 
 me ? but durlt not enter in Triumph, after ib fine an Expe- 
 dition as I had made. I enter'd then with Loul-Ears, and 
 Tears in my Eyes, but that rather for ]oy than Grief, look- 
 ing upon that dear City as my Nurling-Mother, whom I 
 would willingly have embrac d upon my fo happy Return, 
 had I but had Arms long enough. I foon fell to my old courfe 
 of Life, which I had lo great Benefit from, that I quickly 
 forgot my Difgrace at Gaeta. 
 
 When once we have efpoufed any fort of Life, we have 
 no rellilh for any other, tho' never fo juft and reafonable. 
 This of mine, which I led with the Beggars, lèem'd the 
 moft charming and delightful that could be, and I look'd 
 upon all others as miferable and contemptible. I was not, 
 neverthelefs, altogether Blind, I had a Notion of Good 
 and Evil, but ftííl my Inclination prevail'd upon me, in 
 prejudice of all that was Good. I got me up one Morning 
 betimes, and went to wait at the Gate of a Cardinal, whom 
 I knew to be in Reputation for his Charity. I had prepar'd 
 one of my Legs after that manner, that I thought it would 
 be Proof againft the Skill of the belt Surgeon in Rome j and 
 lb compofing my Voice and Mien to a mournful Air, I be- 
 gan to beg in a very languishing Tone. People went in 
 and out continually, and lcarce any pafs'd by but gave 
 me fomething. At length came the Cardinal himielf, who 
 coming to go out, and for whom 1 had all along waited, 
 I began to let up my Pipes in a more hideous manner than 
 before, wreathing my Body into a thouíand Poitures, and 
 crying, My Noble Lord, for ChrjiVs fake have pity upon a 
 poor fick and crippled Sinner, who is not able to get his 
 Bread, nor knows not which way to turn him. This illuitri- 
 ous Prelate feeing me in that fceming bad Condition, itop'd 
 to hear me, and look'd earnellly at me for lome time, as if 
 lie ha.d been thoroughly prepolTeis'd of my Miiery. He did 
 not ieem to confidcr me as a common Raïca lly Beggar, as 
 indeed I was, but as one that was really what I pretended 
 to be, and therefore Immediately order 'd his Servants to 
 take me up in their Arms, carry me into his own Bed- 
 chamber, where he made them take off my Rags, and put 
 on me one of his own Shins, and lay mc in his own Bed, 
 
 whillt 
 
4 1 ¿ The Life and AÛiote fart I. 
 
 whilft he had another prepar'd for himfelf in an adjoining 
 Room. O Goodnefs, which muit of necefllty proceed from 
 a Heart fil I'd with the Love of God ! O Charity, which 
 may ferve for an Example to all fuch Chriftians as truly 
 Jove our Saviour Chrirt, in the Perlons of the Poor! I was 
 ftripd naked, to cloath me better. I had all Occafions of 
 Begging taken from me, by having more given me than I 
 could require, or, indeed, than was neceilary. I was over- 
 whelm^ with Courtefies and Favours, tho' I did notdeierve 
 even the leartofthem. God is ibmetimes pleas'd fo tobleiseven 
 the moit wicked Sinners. This good and holy Cardinal did 
 not flop here, he loaded me with farther Kindncfles; for 
 fending for two of the moft famous Surgeons in all the 
 City, he order'd them to take care of my Leg, and he 
 would fatisfy them fot it; ib leaving me in their Hands, 
 he blefs'd me, and went to the Confiftory, whither he was 
 before going. Thefe two Artiits, as wife as they were, did 
 not at firft underitand my Cale, but judg'd it incurable, 
 crying, my Leg muft be cut off to frop the Gangrene. But 
 how deceiv'd they were, for all that Ulcer had been occa- 
 llon'd only by a few Herbs, of which, if I omitted the Ap- 
 plication but three Days, both the Flefh and Skin would 
 return as fair and found- as ever. My plump and ruddy 
 Countenance, however, always betray cL me, as you'l find 
 it did now ; for one of the Surgeons, more l'ubtle than the 
 other, obièrving how well I look'd, began to fuipeót, not- 
 withstanding my piteous Grimaces, that there was fbme 
 Roguery in the Matter, as it feems he had Experience in 
 like Cafes. He therefore proceeded to examine my Leg 
 more narrowly, and tried all Ways to detect my Knavery. 
 They had both thrown off their Qoaks, and call'd for all 
 Things nectflary for a great Curr. After feeling my Pulfe, 
 they began to demand of me how long I had Had this Ul- 
 cer? If I did not know how I firft came by it ? If I drank 
 any Wine ? What I eat commonly ; and the like. Hitherto 
 all went well, for I gave them the moit pertinent Aniwers 
 that could be defir'd ; but I was frill in Pain for what 
 would follow, for I heard one of them anfwer the other, 
 who would have a Can/lick apply'd, and fome proud Fleih 
 taken away, That, in his Opinion, the only Remedy would 
 be to take off my Leg. But this he fpoke out of pure Cun- 
 ning, for he knew my Malady as well as nW fel£ He had 
 
 only 
 
VU- 1- 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 417 
 
 only a mind to fright ine, to fee what I would fay, and in 
 truth he was in this Cafe much more Politick than I, for 
 thro 5 fear of undergoing fo terrible a Tryal, I turnd as pale 
 as Death, yet I reiolv'd to conceal the Cheat as long así 
 could, and if they fhouldccwie to that Extremity they pro- 
 pos'd, I thought it would be time enough at lalt to dii- 
 cover the Matter, rather than cxpoie my felf to be made 
 miferable all my Day?, for I did not doubt but they de- 
 ile;n'd what they pretended. Then I began to reflect on my 
 flight Punifhment at Caeta ih refpeét to this, for I could 
 never propofc to get oft" at ib cheap a Rate as I did there. 
 But thefe Reflections came too late, as mine indeed always 
 did. There was hardly a Saint in the Skies but I. recom- 
 mended my felf to his Protection, efpecially to the Good 
 Thief, tho 1 1 could not cafily believe there was any Patron 
 there for Rogues and Robbers. In a Word, whilft I was 
 under the greatest Perplexity to think what they would do 
 with me, the Surgeons, alter having por'd upon, con- 
 iidcr'd, turn d and toís'd my Leg about, retir'd into ano- 
 ther Chamber to talk in private concerning me. I thought 
 it but my Duty to hear what they laid, and therefore they 
 had not. been gone long before I got up, and went foftly 
 after to hearken. I heard one fay 'to the other, We may 
 make a fine Cure of this, and make it lait a good while 
 too if we manage Matters but rightly, for I don f doubt 
 but the Bone is touclfd. The Bone is no more touch'd, an- 
 iwer'd the other, than mine is, for I would engage to cure 
 this Ulcer ia three Days; How! replied the.firft, much 
 furpris'd to hear him ta Ik ib ; Do you think J don't under- 
 stand my ProfeiTion, and that 1 have not feen Ulcers and 
 mortified Ulcers, as Til maintain this to be, before now ? 
 I'll lay what you will, it is as I fay. I don't doubt your 
 Experience, replied the fécond, who, ncverthelcis, knew 
 more of the Matter ; but I wont lay this Wager with you, 
 becaufc I won't win my Friend's Money. For look ye ; pur- 
 lued he, is it not lufheient if we get a Sum together, with- 
 out troubling our Heads any farther ? But, between Friends, 
 lean Iccurcyou, for I have known the like Cafe, that 
 this is nothing but a Sham-Ulcer caus'd by certain Poilon- 
 ous Herbs, and that our Patient is but aCanary-Bird. The 
 oilier Surgeon was very unwilling to believe thi?, and 
 thought it concerned his Reputation to vindicate his fuit 
 
 E e Aifc.r- 
 
41 8 The Lije and Afiions Parti. 
 
 AiTertion, therefore maintain'd it irrenuoufly ; fo that the 
 Difpute was like to have grown hot, had not the fécond 
 Surgeon, more Politick and lefs Pallionate, work'd his Bro- 
 ther down by meer Art, and brought him to hear Reafon. 
 He told him, he would be convinced of the Truth of what 
 he affirm'd, if he would but i ni peel: the Part as narrowly 
 as he had done ; but he faid, that was not the Bufineis, the 
 Matter was to make a Purie of Money ; and befides, why 
 ihould they go about to ruin a poor Devil, who had done 
 this only for Suftenance. He urgd moreover, both God 
 and Nature requir'd they fhould conceal the Failings of 
 their Fellow-Creatures, and, that feeing they could get 
 both Reputation and Money by this Cure, and run no 
 Rifque, it not being likely the Patient would diicover it, 
 why ihould they not do it ? The firft Surgeon found his 
 Brother's Arguments fo good, that he confented to be rufd 
 by him, provided the Ulcer was fuch as he maintain'd it to 
 be ; but faid, he would not yield till he was fully fatisfied 
 in that Particular. However, before they proceeded any 
 farther, they enter'd into a Debate about dividing the Money. 
 The fécond Surgeon, who had detecled the Roguery, pre- 
 tended, if the Matter was as he faid, he would have more 
 than a Half-Share, which the other would by no means 
 grant ; fo that falling out about it, and both being in a 
 manner upon the Point of refolving to acquaint the Car- 
 dinal with the whole Truth, I itep'd in, for I thought it 
 proper to lofe no more time, and falling on my Knees, be- 
 gan with Tears in my Eyes (for I could cry when I would) 
 to utter fuch moving Things, as well relating to their Good as 
 mine, that at length I prevail'd on them to join with me in the 
 Cheat, and unite for our common Intereii Being thus a- 
 greed, we returnd into his Eminences Chamber, where they 
 proceeded to infpecl my Leg anew, not to confider how to 
 cure it, for that was not neceiïary, but to make it a lafting 
 Sore, mat they might have time to get Money by it ; io 
 that chafing me with Petti Içntial Oiis, and plaiftcring me 
 with poifonous Plaifters, they roufd up my pretended Ul- 
 cer, and each taking me in his Arms, as if I had been 
 the moit indifpos'd Perfon imaginable, they were ¿lift carry- 
 ing me towards the Bed when his Eminence came into the 
 Chamber. He had been unealy all the while he was in the 
 Confifiory on account of my Illnefs, fo excellently good he 
 
 was, 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 41^ 
 
 was, and that made him make all the hafte he could back 
 to hear News of me. The Surgeons told his Eminence, it 
 was a grievous Ulcer I had, which began to mortify, but 
 that Heaven having, as it were, directed me to his Emi- 
 nence's Door to lave my Life, they would engage, with 
 God's Afliitance, to flop the Gangrene and effect a Cure, 
 tho' they had.not a Moment to loie. They faid moreover, 
 there muit be great Care taken of me, and they would 
 come twice a Day till fuch time as the Mortification began 
 to abate, after which, coming fcldomer would do. His 
 Eminence was very well pleas'd with what they told him, 
 and bid them be fure to come regularly, according as oc- 
 cafion requir'd, till luch time as I were out of Danger $ 
 and as for his Part, he faid he would give order that no- 
 thing ihould be wanting that was convenient for me. Upon 
 hearing this lait Dialogue between his Eminence and the 
 Surgeons, I was exceedingly reviv'd, for hitherto I had been 
 under no final 1 Concern for fear thofe treacherous Raf- 
 eáis ihould betray me, as they had done the Cardinal; 
 but now feeing them embark'd in the fame Danger with 
 my felf, I began to take Heart a little. You ihould have 
 icen mc in this magnificent Bed, where I was ferv'd like a 
 Prince for three Months together, during all which time 
 thefe Rogues of Surgeons kept me under their Hands. I 
 was heartily tir'd I'll allure you, and, notwithitanding all 
 my good Treatment, could not but reflect upon the Onions 
 of Egypt, and the Pleafures of my Life paît • lb that being 
 impatient of undergoing any farther Penance, and not 
 caring to be lock'd up any longer on this Hypocritical Ac- 
 count, I made application to thefe Fellow-Rogues of mine 
 to difmifs me, which they at length did at the end of 
 three Months, tho' their Defign was to have confina me 
 much longer. Having, as I've faid, thus made my Appli- 
 cation, they began by degrees to ilacken their Unctions 
 and Plaiiters ; lo that in few Days my Leg became whole 
 as it had ever been. This done, they went to acquaint his 
 Eminence with it, who having view'd it, look'd upon it as 
 a Miracle of a Cure, and largely rewarded the Surgeons. He 
 had been fo good, during my Indifpoiition ? a§ not to fail 
 one Day to come and fee me, and at fir ft he fent almofi 
 every Hour to know how I did. As he found in me a 
 great deal of ready Wit, he lov'd to talk with me, and ask 
 
 Ee 2 mç 
 
42o The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 me feveral Queffions much above the reach of an ordinary 
 Beggar, to which I would aníwer io fmartly, that he tooK 
 a huge Fancy to me, and at lait would needs have me to 
 be his Page, which was au Honour I could never have 
 hop'd for, and by which I might have fufhciently benefit- 
 ted my le If, if I liad but known how. I was hereupon 
 removed, into another Appartment, and new cloath'd in 
 order to wait upon his Eminence 
 
 . 
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 Guzman fpeah of the many Changes in this World, 
 anà laments his own late Change of Life, as not com- 
 parable to the Condition of a Beggar. He tells you feve- 
 ral little Thefts of his ; and at laft acquaints you with 
 one that he was fotmdly laflul for, •which, however, he 
 fujfcic7itly revtvgd on the Executioner. 
 
 HT His was a great Change indeed, from a poor Beggar at a f 
 Cardinal's Gate, to become his Eminences Page. In \ 
 like manner all Things change in this World, and wc J 
 change with them, not only our Conditions and our For- 
 tunes, but likewiie our Humours, our Undcrffandings ; 
 may, 1er but one Day pais, and we ihall not know our 
 ielvcs. We no longer know thole we have been formerly 
 well acquainted with, or they no longer know us, accord- 
 ing to the different Situations that Fortune has plac'd us in. 
 The World it felf leems to be upon the perpetual Change, 
 inibmuch that if a Man could be abfent from it only Ten 
 Years, and return again at the Expiration of that Time, 
 he would not be able to know where he was, but would 
 think he had drop'd from the Skies. 1 would fain know 
 what the Mode and Cuffom docs not occafion to change, 
 w great a Variety of Dependants wait upon them. 
 >de not only affects the Matter of Habits and Orna- 
 ut ihe Manner of DrefTing, which we fee change 
 re no longer pleas'd with thofe Çloaths than 
 »ut juff before, but muff have them of a new 
 d vary the Method of putting them on inccf- 
 
 iantly. 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 421 
 
 fantly. We mutt likewife have Variety and a Mode in Talk- ' 
 ing,Walking, Bowing, Eating, and even in Arts and Sciences, 
 nay in many other Things, which to defence would require 
 a Volume apart, and therefore I l'hall onrt them. AU 
 thefe mutt alter and vary continually, or they cannot pleale 
 u?, the Mind of Man growing tir'd with what is old and 
 common, anddefiring Novelties continually. For my o\<'n 
 part, I mutt needs fay, I wis not a little delighted when 
 I law how I was bedaub d with Gold and Silve kace. 
 What fine Silk Stockings I had on, what neat r>ho», 
 what white and fine Linen, what glaring R ; nd 
 
 the like, all which I took a great deal of C o 
 
 every Glafslcame near, wreathing my Bod ou- 
 
 land Antick Poftures, and making a thou, nd nuns and 
 Returns about the Room, but all in Sight of my dear Mir- 
 ror. I was quickly qualified for this wanton Employment 
 of a Page -, I need only be lhcw'd a thing once to learn it, 
 and that as perfectly, as if 1 had praCtis'd it all my Life long. 
 Nay, I topp'dupon the reft of my Comrades, and invented 
 new Ways of waiting and introducing People to my Lord, 
 which pleas'd his. Eminence exceedingly. I had the go 
 Fortune to pleale him in moil I did, and if it had not K .1 
 the Fault rather of my Conduct than my Fate, I might 
 have made my felf by' it; but how l'hall a Man do well, 
 when be is too much at Eafe? This regular Life, which 
 I was oblig'd to oblerve, did not at length by any means 
 plcafe me. 'To Pray, Eat, Sleep and Rife at fet Hour?, in 
 which I was never to fail, did not at all agree with me. 
 I had no Liberty which was not immediately found Fault 
 with, I could commit no Roguery but which was lookd 
 upon as abominable. To take Care of my own C baths 
 and thofe of other People, to behave my felf with the 
 grcateft Nicety and Exaétnels, to be modeft and prudent in 
 all my Actions, and a thou land other Things of the like 
 Nature, to which I had been neither Bred nor Educated, 
 made me to figh after the Life of a Beggar fo full of Eafe 
 and Pleaiure, which I had forlbok for this fin<t Employment. 
 What could I have defir'd more, laid I to my felf, than I 
 formerly enjoy 'd, and what was wanting thcir<p makç my 
 Condition truly nappy? I had enough to cat and to ípatc, I 
 flept from Morning till Night, I depended on no Body; 
 I neither took Care for my own Apparel nor any Body's 
 
 En elfe, 
 
42 2 The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 elfe, I got more Money in a Week than Ï do now in a 
 Year, I did only what I pleas'd, and had no Reafon to 
 apprehend being contradicted or reprimanded for any 
 thing. All Rome was my Province, and all was even too 
 little. What an Alteration do I find now ? With my fine 
 Pages Coat, I have neither liberty to cat, fleep, laugh or 
 talk, without another's Permi ilion. This is not living, or, 
 at leaft, not living for ones felf, but rather for another Bo- 
 dy, as Slaves do, who have not the benefit of their Birth- 
 right, for Man fure was not born for this End. O cliarm- 
 ing Beggary ! What have I loft in lofing Thee, who art 
 made up of endlefs Joy and Pleafure ! I am here in conti- 
 nual Hurry and Confufion, either running up Stairs or 
 down, trotting about my Lord's Bu finéis, waiting on him 
 in his Chamber, Coach or elfewhere, lighting him a- 
 bout from one Place to another, and the like Drudgery 
 which never hardly ceafes. I muft fometimes get before 
 the Coach ; at others, keep (landing for Hours together; and 
 for what end, I pray ? Why, only to fee my Lord play or 
 eat, when, perhaps, I have a mind to do both my felf 
 This is a hard Calé you'l fay, but I muft bear it. But then, 
 tvhat does this fine Page get at the Years end ? Why no- 
 thing. He has fine Cloaths indeed given him, but that 
 not io much for his own Ulè, as his Lord's Honour. Even 
 at laft, we Pages get nothing but the Pox, the Itch, or 
 lome luch Scurvy Difeaíe, unleis it be a few Ends of Flam- 
 beaux, which we make fome fmall Profit of 3 by felling 
 them to the Coblers. This is the moil we muft expect, 
 tho' fometimes we may lay our Hands upon a whole 
 Flambeau, but then we run a Rifque of being ftrap'd, for 
 we are watch'd continually. For my part, who could not 
 be contented with luch i mall Profits, and who had been 
 us'd to greater Advantages, I fell flap-dalh upon my Fellow- 
 Pages, and robb'd them as they robb'd their Mailer. They 
 were but filly Fellows, and I could deal well enough witn 
 them. All their little Tricks amounted only to robbing the 
 Plates, and getting now and then a Tit-bit. One among 
 the reft had a pretty Accident befell him. As he was 
 waiting one Day at Table, he chane'd to thruft his Hand 
 into a Diili of Fritters, whence taking out half a dozen, 
 fee wrap'd them up in his Handkerchief and cramm'd them 
 into lois Pocket, The Fritters being very hot, and pent up 
 
 in 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache.^ 423 
 
 in a clofe Place, foon began to difcharge their Honey 
 wherewith they were made, which melting, ran down a- 
 pace along the Page's Stockings without his perceiving. 
 His Eminence happening to turn his Head that way to 
 ask for ibmething, preicntly law the Honey, and gueiling 
 at firit Sight what it was, began to laugh heartily, asking 
 the Page what Wound he had got that the Blood ran down 
 his Legs. All the Company, and even the Servants, began 
 to laugh too, which io confounded the poor young Fel- 
 low, that he knew not which way to turn him; however 
 he deferv'd it, for being luch a Blockhead to expoic lum- 
 felf in that manner for ib linall a Matter. He moreover 
 paid dear enough for his Fritters, having due Chaftifement 
 given him for his Theft the fame Day. I dare promife you 
 mould never find my Fathers Son guilty of luch a Folly. 
 To keep my Hand in ure, I robb'd my Comrades of what- 
 ever they had that was good for any thing, and they 
 never were able to find it out, ib dextrous I was. At 
 length finding they could keep nothing for me, they be- 
 came more vigilant and watchful, which neverthelcfs fig- 
 nified little againit my Dexterity. I however look'd upon 
 all this as Ciiilds-Play, yet, rather than (land out, would 
 venture upon any Thing, even Edibles that 1 did not much 
 mind, being naturally no Glutton. I know not whether 
 1 had contracted an ill Habit by converfing with thefe 
 Pages, but fure I am my Nature was at length quite changd, 
 as they fay it will do in time. I was now as much for 
 mean Pilfering as the worft of them, and Tit-bits and Dain- 
 ties running in my Head, I gave into them like an Epicure. 
 Wherever I law any Thing of that kind, I was lure to 
 leave the Marks of my Talions upon it, and hardly any 
 thing cfcap'd me. Now it happen'd that his Eminence liad, 
 in an adjoining Room to his Bed-Chamber, a great Chcit 
 of Sweetmeats, made up of the choiceit candied and dried 
 Fruits that Italy afforded. As often as he had a mind to 
 tafte of thoie Fruits and I was by him, which I was oftener 
 than any Body elfe, he would give me the Key to take fome 
 out, but he would always be prefent himfelf, diftrufting, 
 as I fuppos'd, my thieving Temper, which I was hearti- 
 ly vex'd at. This rais'd my Inclination io much, that at 
 length I could not refill: the Temptation ; therefore refol- 
 ving to have a Lick at them, come what would of it, I be- 
 
 E e 4 gan 
 
4.24 The Life and An'wiî Part I. 
 
 gan to think of the moil pi'oper Means to effect it. This 
 Cheft was about two Yards and a half long, and well 
 wrought, according to the manner of Spain and Italy, but 
 it had only one Lock in the middle. I ieeinc this,' got a 
 Wooden Wedge, vyhich I drove in at one of the Corners, 
 and by degrees rais'd the Lid fo high, that I had room to 
 put in my naked Arm. I had then the Pleafurc to pick 
 ancl chufe where I pleas'd, efpecially when I made ufe of a 
 pointed Stick, which reach'd me ùp what I wanted, tho' 
 r.ever fo deep, or at never fo great a diltancc. This iuc- 
 ceeded twice or thrice ; but as I was too lickenfh, and came 
 too often, there were at length io great Holes made, that 
 his Eminence came to find out the Cheat, efpecially when he 
 faw a fair Cition gone, of which he had a mind to talle. 
 He waç greatly furpris'd, and the more vex'd, in that any 
 Body fhould preiiime to meddle with what he had wholly 
 teierv'd to himfelf. He made great Enquiries about it, and 
 employ 5 d the Secretary, who' was an ill-natur'd and four 
 Frieft/ to fee if he could rind out the Thief. But to little 
 purpofe was his Searching, his Threatning, his Promifing, 
 for all was fully digetted, and nothing could have diico- 
 ver'd me but my Shirt,, and if that could have told Tales, 
 I would never have truited it. I was fufpected no more 
 than another, tho' in Truth I had a Rogue's Look. At 
 3aft all the Buhhefs blew over, and when it had been talk'd 
 of two or three Days, no more was faid of it. His Emi- 
 nence, however, tho' he ieem'd to take no farther notice, 
 kept it ifill in his Mind, and was frill dcfirous to find out 
 the Rogue. He was afraid fomething wone might hap- 
 pen to him, and consequently was oweatirries awa|ce when 
 every Body thought he flept. For y part, fuppofing io 
 great a Man as he could not trouble his Head long about 
 i uch Trifles as this, I verily thought he had forgot it; there- 
 fore one Day, while he was diverting himfelf at Play with 
 feme great Lord?, believing him lait, I went to my old 
 Sport ? and taking the Wedgs in my Hand, began to lift up 
 the Lid of the Cheíi as before. I thruft in my Arm a good 
 way, it feeming to me they had rcmov'd the Sweetmeats as 
 
 they cou îd out of my reach ; but as! was groping a- 
 boiit, his Eminence thro' a itrange Fatality happening to 
 come into his Chamber, and not ''finding me there as I us'd 
 
 cail'd tor me. 1 in a great Fright going to withdraw 
 
 my 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 425 
 
 my Arm ibmewhat rafhly, chanc'd to ftrike out the Wedge 
 with my Elbow, whereby I was caught b£ the fpringojt* 
 the Lid, and could not cafily recover rav felf. I might, 'tis 
 probable, have got my Arm loofe, it I had made a good 
 Effort, but Í had not time to do it, for his Eminence won- 
 dering I did not come nor anlwcr after he had call'd once, 
 and befides, being mov'd to jealouiy by the Noiiè he heard 
 the Lid make, began to iulpeft iomething, and therefore 
 immediately coming towards the Place, found me as I have 
 told you. Ah ! Is it then you, faid he, not being able to 
 forbear laughing at the Comical Figure I made, Is it you, 
 my faithful Guzjhm, that have thus robb'd me of my Sweet- 
 meats ! Which Saying, he gave a ftamp with his Foot, and 
 immediately the reit of the Company came in, who ail be- 
 held me in that deplorable Condition, nay even the Frit- 
 ter-Page made a Jeft of me", as I had before done of him. 
 But this was another-gueis Cafe to his, and I had a great 
 deal worie Raillery to deal with, but I durft not fpeak a 
 Word. I bore all patiently, and held down my Head. At 
 length the Fox is caught, quoth his Eminence^ and we muft 
 fee next what we have to do with him. All the Company- 
 interceded for my Reléale, and I was dcliver'd, but not 
 from Punithment, for all they could lay could not free me 
 from the Laih which I was dcitin'd to. All they could ob- 
 tain was, that I lhould not have above half the Stripes 
 were defign'd me, and that in truth was Favour enough, 
 confidering the bad Example I had given, and the heinous 
 Crime I had committed. The Punifhing of mc was com- 
 mitted to Signior Nicola his Eminences Secretary, who 
 being my mortal Enemy, gave me indeed but twelve Laines 
 as he had been ordcr'd, but thole with io good a Will, that 
 I was hardly able to ftir for above a Fortnight after. I 
 was mad at Heart at this Ulàge, and would have done 
 any thing to have reveng'd my ielf, but I difîemblcd my 
 Rcfentment according to the Cuftom of this Country, yet 
 it was not long before I had an Opportunity, which 1 Was 
 reibly'd not to let flip. You muft know this was the Sea- 
 ton for Mofquitos, wherewith Signior Nicola was Co plagu'd 
 he could not fleep Night nor Day. This oblig'd him 
 to go and lodge in another Chamber, but all to little pur- 
 pole, for they follow d him and tormented him continually. 
 He was a Perlón that Jov'd his Eaie, and conicqucntly they 
 
 prov'd 
 
426 The Life and Aíiions Parti. 
 
 prov'd more than ordinarily vexatious to him. He liad had 
 lèverai Secrets given him to drive them away, but none 
 fiicceeded. At length I offer'd one, which I told him was 
 infallible, and which we commonly made ufe of in Spain 
 in like Cafes. This was, to take a good Bunch of Pariley, 
 dip it in Vinegar, and lay it at his Beds-head, which I ac- 
 quainted him would undoubtedly kill thofc Vermin. He 
 believ'd me, and did as I liad directed, but this Method 
 ivas fo far from fuffocating or driving away thefe Infecís, 
 that it did but invite them the more, io that he was more 
 plagu'd than formerly, and coniequently when I came 
 ¡next Morning to fee how he did, he could hardly look 
 out of his Eyes, which were extramly íwell'd and bloated, 
 may he was like a Leper all over his Body. As foon as 
 foe faw me, he call'd out to tell me my Secret was not 
 worth a Farthing, for he had been more itung that Night 
 than any of the foregoing. I aflurd him, the Fault mulï be 
 wholly his own, and that either he had not let the Parfley 
 fteep long enougn in the Vinegar, or that the Vinegar was 
 not ftrong enough, for that in my Chamber I had totally 
 driven thofe Vermin away, infomuch that there was not 
 one to be feen, whereas there were great Numbers before 
 I us'd this Remedy. He believ'd me again, and refolv'd to 
 renew the Experiment. To be more iiire, he had iteep'd 
 Parfiey not only put into his Bed, but fcatter'd all over liis 
 Chamber, whereby God knows what furious Attacks he 
 was expos'd to from thofe Animals. Legions of them came 
 into the Chamber ; fo that keeping him awake for feveral 
 Nights together, he at length feli down-right Sick. He 
 was moreover fo disfigur'd, that no Body could have known 
 him, and the Jcft coming at lait to be known, he Avas iuffi- 
 ciently laugh'd at. His Eminence coining to hear the Story, 
 laugh d heartily ; and after having a little reprimanded me, 
 made -me to beg the Secretary's Pardon, which w r as a new oc- 
 cafion of Mirth, for no Body could forbear being merry at the 
 Sight of him, and the Remembrance how I had ferv'd liim. 
 
 CHAP. 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 427 
 
 c II A P. VIII. 
 
 Guzman tells, how he revengd the Cardinal's Gentleman- 
 Ujher upon his Secretary : And afterwards acquaints you 
 with a notable Theft of his, which had like to have 
 coft him his Place; but his Eminence retain d him out 
 of meer Charity , in hopes he might have an Opportunity 
 to teach him better 3 and prevent, if pcjfible, his utter 
 DefhuBion. 
 
 NEverthclefs, ever iince my unlucky Adventure of the 
 Sweetmeats, I had been dilcharg'd from attending as 
 a Page. I now no longer waited on nis Eminence, but was 
 baniuYd to the Gentlcman-UhVr's Appartmcnt, and ferv'd 
 in Quality of a Foot-Boy during my Diigrace. This was 
 a very good fort of Man, good humour'd, and down- 
 right honcft, but a little fanciful. He had lèverai young 
 Women his Relations that were very Virtuous, but Poor, 
 to whom he would often fend in a Joint of ibmething and 
 go and eat with them. He had many Enemies in our Houfe, 
 efpecially our illufrrious ^/ojf^/Vo-Secretary, who would be 
 always playing upon him ; io that they often made Sport 
 for his Eminence, who ièern d greatly diverted with it. One 
 Night, the Gentleman-Uiher having been at Supper with 
 his Relations, came home a little flufter'd, and finding 
 himfelf out of order, lheak'd to Bed. His Eminence mii- 
 fing him, ask'd for him, and was told he was not very 
 well. He fent fome Body immediately to know how he 
 did, and Word was brought he was a little indifpofed for 
 the prefent, but doubtednot, by the Bleffing of God, to 
 be able to wait on his Eminence next Morning. This pafs'd 
 well enough ; but the Secretary, who was always endea- 
 vouring to pick a Hole in the Gentleman-Ulner's Coat, had 
 found out the Truth : Wherefore refolving to play him a 
 Trick, he had one of the Pages drefs'd in a young Woman's 
 Habit, and lent him into his Chamber betimes in the Mom-> 
 ing, ordering him to get behind the Bed-Curtains whilft he 
 was a-ileep^ ' He did as he was order'd ¿ when the Secretary 
 
 imme- 
 
428 The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 immediately went to the Cardinal, and told his Eminence, 
 he undcrftood the Uiher was much better, knowing he 
 would be prelently for going to fee him. The Cardinal, 
 who was a true Father of his Family, determined to go ac- 
 cordingly ; and the Uiher, who had Notice of it, prepar'd 
 to receive the Honour was intended him. His Eminence 
 came injuttas theUlher ivas bolted up in his Bed, and after 
 he had ask'd him a few Queftions, the Page appeard ,• who 
 leeming in great Diforder and Surprife, having his Coif 
 dangling about his Ears, drop'd a Curly, and ran out in 
 great Confufion. The Cardinal, not knowing what all this 
 meant, was greatly furpris'd too ; and much more fo, when 
 he faw theUlher under fuch Conitemation, that he was a- 
 bout to leap naked out of his Bed lèverai times to fave 
 himielf, believing this was a Spirit fent on purpofe to tempt 
 him. This made all the Company laugh, who were privy to 
 the Defign ; whereby the Cardinal coming alio to underftand 
 this was a Trick upon his Uiher, and lceing him continue 
 in the fame Agitations as before, he took piry of him, and 
 had the Goodnels to undeceive him himielf. I came into 
 the Room juft after his Eminence was gone out, when the 
 Uiher, hardly recovera* from his Fright, told me the whole 
 Story, not doubting but he was oblig'd to the Secretary for 
 what had happen d. I heard all very patiently ; and when 
 he had done, told him, my Opinion was, he ought to re- 
 turn Trick for Trick. He laid, that was his Defign, but 
 he knew not how to do it without my Affiftance ; by 
 which you may fee, I was not lookd upon as a Novice in 
 this Family. The Uiher was a very honeit Man, as I've 
 already inform'd you, but he had no great Brains, and 
 therefore could not depend upon his own Invention ; how- 
 ever, he thought, if I would but join with him, we might 
 together be aüle to contrive fomething that might fufnei- 
 ently revenge him. But I knew it was not for little Dogs 
 to attack great ones, and much Jefs for Pages to meddle 
 with thole Officers that were above them, who had all 
 Power over them, and might revenge their Railleries a r : 
 they pleas'd. I likewilè confider'd I hid been pardon'd for 
 my Saucinefs to the Secretary, becaufe what I did 'was to 
 revenge my felf ; whereas this was another Man's Quarrel, 
 and that made the Cafe different. However, the great 
 Love I bore the Uiher, and the mortal Hatred! liad to 
 
 the 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 42^ 
 
 the Secretary, together with the natural Inclination I had 
 to play Tricks, carried it above all other Confiderations : 
 iniorouch, that I immediately promised the Uiher to aflîlt 
 him to the utmoit of my Power, providing he would fay 
 nothing, and ieem to have put up the Affront. The Secre- 
 tary verily believing he had forgot all, did not trouble his 
 Head about the Matter ; but tho' he feem'd to be a-ileep, I 
 was awake ; and having provided my felf with a little Ro- 
 fin, Frankincenfe and Maitick, I pounded and fifted them 
 all together, till I had brought them to be as fine as Meal. 
 This done upon a Spiinijh Poit-Day, that was very hot, 
 when I knew the Secretary would have a great deal of Bu- 
 finefs upon his Hands; I went to his Appartment about 
 Nine in the Morning, and finding only his Man in the 
 Outer-Room, I laid to him, Honcft Jacob, if thou haft a 
 mind to have a good Breakfait, find me but a Bottle of 
 Wine, and 111 help thee to an excellent Steak, which I 
 have ready grill'd below. Jacob hearken d to my Propofal, 
 and promis'd to be of my Mels, dcfiring me to wait a lit- 
 tle in his Room in cafe his Matter iliould call, and he 
 would go fetch the Wine. This was all I wanted ; for he 
 was no fooner gone, but I took his Mafter's Breeches that 
 hung upon the Chair, he being us'd to write without in 
 hot Weather, and ltrew'd my Powders all over the infide 
 of them ; which done, I put them in the lame Place where 
 I found them. Jacob return'd with his Bottle j but juft as 
 wc were going to Brcakfaft his Matter chane'd to call, fo 
 that I was fore'd to go and eat elfewhere. I refolv'd never- 
 thelcfs to wait the Succefs of my Roguery, which did not 
 ihew it felf till Noon, when the Secretary was to drefs 
 himfclf to appear before his Eminence. He had ftay'd fo 
 long, he was oblig'd to put on his Cloaths in hafte, which 
 made for my Stratagem, for heating himlèlf, and lweating 
 with too great Aétion, my Powders took the better effect. 
 However for the prelent he felt nothing,- but was no 
 fooner come into the Hall, where his Eminence diifd with 
 a great Company, but he found himielf uneafie; and as 
 he was naturally as hairy as a Bear, he felt lèverai Twitches 
 that went to the Heart of him. He could not imagine 
 what was the Matter, yet durit nut put his Hand in his 
 Breeches for fear of being fecn, neverthelefs knew not' 
 how to keep his Countenance he was lo plaguily tormented. 
 
 At 
 
43o The Life and Aiïions Part I. 
 
 At length, for his greater Misfortune, his Eminence, who 
 had fomething to lay to him relating to the Poft of that 
 Day, beckon'd to him to come to him. He went immedi- 
 ately ; but the Cardinal had not fpoke two Words, before, 
 interrupting his Difcourfe, he crv'd, Good God ! Nicola, 
 What is the matter with you ? What makes you fo fmell 
 of an odd fort of Perfume ? All the Company fmelt the 
 fame, but they knew not whence it came. Nicola bluuYd, 
 and hardly knew what Anfwer to make ; but at length 
 he confelsd, he fmelt the fame Thing himfelf, yet could 
 not think it came from him, having been near nothing of 
 that Scent all Day : But as he began to grow warmer," the 
 Smell encreas'd, fo that his Eminence' being not able to en- 
 dure him any longer, bid him withdraw, and he would 
 talk with him after Dinner. For his part, who could not 
 believe he had been the Caufc of all that ill Scent, he re- 
 tir 'd contentedly ; but when he felt himfelf prick'd and 
 twing'd, as it were with a Pin or Needle, he knew not 
 what to think ; yet when he came near any of us, accord- 
 ing as we had had InitruCtions from the Gentleman-Uiher, 
 we fled from him, holding our Nofes. Thoiè at Table did 
 the like when he came near them ; but at length all 
 pafs'd over in Raillery, and gave only Occafion for fome 
 fhort Parallel Stories. At lait, his Eminence obferving 
 our Ufher laugh'd more than ufually, and that we fre- 
 quently whifper'd one another in the Ear, he began to fuf- 
 pect. there was fomething more than ordinary in the Cafe ; 
 wherefore feeing me near him, who did not laugh at all, 
 but look'd demurely, he ask'd me, What was the Matter, , 
 and what made us intrigue fo together ? I told his Eminence, 
 Mr. Secretary had that Day taken a TurpentinePotion, and 
 that I fuppos'd made the People fo merry. This made the 
 Company laugh yet more heartily than before; which put- 
 ting Signior Nicola quite out of Countenance, who now 
 began to think fome Roguifh Trick had been play'd him, 
 being no longer able to keep the Field, he would have been 
 gone. But as he was about to retire, his Eminence, who 
 had really Bufincis with him, call'd to him a fécond time 
 to ftay ; nevertheleis he could not talk with him but 
 with his Nofe in his Handkerchief, which confounded our 
 Secretary to the lait Degree ; fo that having itood the whole 
 Laugh of the Table for iome time, he at length îurn'd his 
 H Sack, 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 43 1 
 
 Back, and went off in great hafte, not carine; to ftay to 
 hear what his Eminence had further to iky, which diverted 
 them yet more than before. He was no iboner gone, but 
 the Cardinal was told what the matter was, which he was 
 very defnous to know, and which he had no fooner heard, 
 but he was ready to burft with Laughter, as was indeed all 
 the reft of the Company. His Eminence fent one of his Ser- 
 vants to fee how this Farce was like to end, but he would 
 let no Body come in ; for he iTiut the Door after him as 
 loon as he had cnter'd his Chamber, and would not be feen 
 any more all that Day. But it was afterwards known, by 
 means of his Servant, that it coft him the whole Lining of 
 his Breeches, if not fome of his Skin, to get clear. He 
 ioon came to know Í had play M him tills Trick ; and he 
 ■would have been feverely reveng'd of me for it, had not 
 his Eminence interpos'd, and charg'd him not to injure me 
 upon any Account whatfoever. 
 
 The Two Months I was to be baniuYd from the Page's 
 Chamber being expir'd, I was reftor'd to my firft Honour 
 and Dignity, and admitted to wait on his Eminence as be- 
 fore. I acquitted my felf, as I had always done, with Im- 
 pudence enough; for it was a long while lince I had lhook 
 Hands with Shame. You have no doubt heard the ihort 
 Story of the Air, Earth, and Shame, who having kept 
 Company together for lome time, and being at length o- 
 blig a to partiere defirous to know where they ihould fee 
 one another again. Quoth the Ait, I lhall be found on 
 the Tops of the Mountains ; and I, without fail, reply'd 
 the Water, in the Entrails of the Earth : You are both 
 happy, faid Shame, that you can be found any where ; for 
 when once I have been parted with, it is impoflïble to meet 
 with me again. For my part, I did not look after her coy 
 Ladyihip, fince ihe was fo hard to come at, for I knew her 
 to be a troublefome Gueft, and good for nothing. He that 
 knows nothing of her, may affirm the Town is his own. 
 You will wonder neverthelefs, how, after fomany lnftances 
 of my bad Conduct, I have not become more wile. God 
 keep every Man from fuch an Inclination to Roguery as I 
 had, which was rooted in me by a Habit of many Years 
 and confirind by a Series of Good and Evil, which accom- 
 panied me continually ; for it muft be next to a Miracle to 
 reclaim fuch a one as I was. You might have as well bid me 
 
 throvy; 
 
432 The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 throw my felf headlong off from Cajlel St. Angelo, as not to 
 play the Rogue or Pilfer. I was very fenfible what would 
 happen to me, if I were caught ftealing a fécond time; 
 but. yet I comforted my felt' with this laying, That he that 
 fears Death, does not deferve to live. What lignifies having 
 a Talent, if you don't make ufe of it ? Let Fools live like 
 Fools, and Men of Wit like Men of Wit. I will not here 
 grow ruity for want of fomething to do. Fyery one knows 
 what he's good for, and every one has a Part to act in this 
 World. I don't, neverthelel?, give you the Hiitory of my 
 Life that you may follow it, but rather that you may avoid 
 it as pernicious and dangerous. His Eminence, as you have 
 already heard, "was a great Lover of Sweetmeats, and when- 
 ever his Stock was out, he would fend to buy more. He 
 commonly bought thofc that came from the dowries in Bar- 
 rels. The old Casks were given to the Servants, and I had 
 one fell to my Share, wherein I us'd to put fome Trifle or 
 other. It happen'd one Day, a Man came to acquaint his 
 Eminence there were frelh Sweetmeats arriv'd, and only 
 Twelve Barrels of them. He lent immediately to have 
 them bought up for his Ulè. I hearing this, faid within 
 my felf, It ihall go hard but 1 will have one of them ; lo 
 going into my Chamber that lame Moment, I empty 'd the 
 Barrel I had of what was in it ; and having fill'd it again 
 with Earth and $traw, clos'd it up fo neatly, that you 
 would have fworn it had been new, and never open'd. 
 This done, I went into the Court- Yard to wait the com»- 
 ing of thole that were full of Sweetmeats. I did not flay 
 long before they came. The Steward had the Charge of 
 them ; and he no fooner faw them brought in, but he gave 
 us Orders to carry them into, his Eminence's Clofet. We 
 were Hands enough for that ; and I lb order'd the Matter, 
 that I was to march la ft. I feiz'd my Barrel after the reft ; 
 and as I was to pafs by my Chamber in going to this 
 Clofet, it was an eafie matter for me, no Body following 
 us, to flip aflde, and exchange mine for that I had prépara* ; 
 which I did, carrying it boldly into the Clofet with the 
 reft, anck-fetting it down before the Steward, who could, I 
 thought, be Witnefs for me if Occafion were. His Eminence 
 coming at the fame time to lee thefe Barrels, he had flo 
 fooner look'd upon them, but he caft his Eye upon me, 
 whom he found very attentive ; and iajd, ¿militig, Well 
 
 (jHZ,man 9 
 
Book III of Guzman d'AIforache. 433 
 
 Guzman, Liait thou any thing to fay to theie Barrch, as 
 formerly to the Chcit ? My Lord, rcpartecd I, nothing is 
 impoiTiblc. Ah! reply'd he immediately, but I defie tpee. 
 Thefe Barrels have not Corners to lift up as the Chcit had. 
 That's true, my Lord, reply'd 1 : but i humbly befeech 
 your Eminence not to défie me in any thing, tor the ¡Devil 
 may in í'uch Cale tempt me to do ibmcthing extraordinary. 
 With all my Heart, quoth the Cardinal, I would raifi ice 
 what thou can'ít do. ï give thee Eight Days to do it in ; 
 and if thou art Artiit enough to rob me or any pf then* 
 in that time, I . here proiniie not only to forgive tjiee what 
 thou ihalt io get, but to give thee a Reward to boot. 
 But then, continued he, thou mu.ft oblige thy lelf like- 
 wife to ibme Penalty, in .cafe thou miJycarry'ft jn thy En- 
 terprize. Whatever (hall pleafe your Eminence, reply'd I ; 
 But Eight Days for lb skilful a Perlón as I am, lèems a lit- 
 tle too much. Scarce one of my Comrades but would b: 
 able to do it in Four : For my part,I would undertake to do, 
 it in Twenty four Hours. Twenty four Hours, reply'd his 
 Eminence, looking earneftly at me with great Aiionilhment ! 
 Yes, my Lord, reply'd I, Twenty four Hours ; and if i 
 do not accomplish my Task in that Time, I am willing to 
 fubmit to what Punilhment Mr. Secretary there will pleafe 
 to inflict on me for my Prefuinptidn, having no realon to 
 doubt but he would give me fuch as \ ihould delerve- 
 I ! reply'd the Secretary;^ I'll have nothing to do with you 
 ]His Eminence may find thole that have ftronger Arms than 
 I have to give you your Deferts. The Cardinal, who Jiad. 
 {rardly ceas'd laughing during this whole Dialogue, now 
 began to redouble his Laughter, feeing how afraid the Se- 
 cretary was of me. The Conclufion of the Matter yvpL 
 That 1 fliould accompli Or this Undertaking in Twenty tour 
 Hours, or be contented to undergo a fuitablc Puniihment. 
 I contented, for you may imagine J was under no Appre- 
 Iienfions about it, having the Barrel already fafe }.n my 
 .Chamber. 1 ask'd Twenty four Hours, 'tis true ; but that 
 was only the better to amule the Cardinal, that he might 
 ¡not think I had a Familiar. How many Guards did he 
 fet fucceillvely upon this Cloiet : There was always one 
 Page or other there, and ever luch as were mort confided 
 jn. His Eminence obferving next Day at Dinner I diet not 
 ipeafe a Word, and w r as not lb mal-a-pcrt as I us'd to 
 
 F f **> 
 
434 The Lije and Aflions Part I. 
 
 be, in fay i tig fomething to divert him ; he cry'd, Well, 
 G;iz,man, thd Hour is near at hand, and thou look'lt as if 
 thou ha'd'lt the Stripes upon thy Back already. I fhall only 
 be at a Lets to find one that is able to Reward thee as thou 
 tvilt deferve, fince Signior Nicola will not take that Trouble 
 upon him. I am lure or' my Hand for all that, cry I, 
 my Lord, and fear neither Signior Nicolas Arm, nor any 
 others. The Sweetmeats are already in my PofkfHon, and 
 Í have no reafon to be afraid of lofing my Wager. His 
 Eminence^ took only what I faid for a Specimen o£ my Impu- 
 dence, -being thoroughly perfnaded that no Body could 
 have enter-'d his Cloiét, or touch'd the Barrels: He there- 
 fore only Iaugh'd at me, and rallied me all Dinner-time a- 
 bout the Flogging that was defign'd for 'me. I took little 
 ¿notice of ; what he iaid, and did not pretend to defend my 
 ièlf ; but when the Time for ferving up the Defert came, I 
 Hid privately up to my Chamber, and taking a China Baion, 
 filfd it with Sweetmeats out of my Barrel, and carried 
 them to the Table. Never was furprife fo great as that of 
 his Eminence at this Sight. He look'd upon the Sweetmeat?, 
 and afterwards upon me, with great Earneíincís. He knew 
 not what to think of it ; but, the better to fatisfie himlelf, 
 he immediately difpatch'd away his Steward, to fee if the 
 Barrels were entire, and of the fame Number they were at 
 •firft. The Steward, who had plac d them himlelf, found 
 them as he had left them, iafe and found ; and lo went 
 and acquainted the Cardinal, who was now upon the 
 Whipping-itrain again. I perceive, Friend Gwcmkni what 
 thy Fetch is now,proceeded he: Thou halt been and bought 
 fome Sweetmeats of the fame Merchant Í bought of, 
 and thou think'it to fob them upon me for mine ; but 
 thou art miitaken, I am not to be fobb'd off fo: I'll make 
 thee Hand to thy Wager, or thou limit be JahVd. No- 
 thing is more jurt, reply I, my Lord ; and if thefe are 
 not the fame Sweetmeats your Eminence bought, Ï have loit, 
 and deferve your Difpleafurc ; but if they are out of one of 
 the fame Barrels, then I hope your Eminence will do me 
 ^uiiice. This brought the Cardinal from one Surprife to 
 another ; infbmuch, that looking earneitly at me, hecry'd, 
 Here is no Evafion or fly Fetch to be admitted of, Suzman, 
 We know the Number' of the Barrels; and my Steward, 
 who had the Charge of them, lias been )ui\ telling them, 
 
 and 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 43 c 
 
 and finds them to be the faine Number they were at firft. 
 I believe it, my Lord, aniwer'd I, but your Eminence knows 
 the Proverb relating to counted Sheep. We'll fee that 
 quickly, reply'd the Cardinal ; Let us but dine firft, and 
 we'll give die Comedy afterward?. Every one wasimpa- 
 tient to know the End of all this. The Table was no fooner 
 voided, but his Eminence would needs go himlelf, and fee 
 how Things flood in the Clolet. He carry'd all the Com- 
 pany along with him that din'd with him that Day, that 
 he might give them lome Div-crfion. When they came 
 thither, they found all the Twelve Barrels fafc and found 
 as the Steward had laid. WeJL Guzman h What doft thou 
 iay now, quoth the Cardinal immediately, Here arc the 
 Twelve Barrels fafe and found as we left them. As for 
 their being Twelve, I have nothing to fay, My Lord, an- 
 fwer'd I, I can lee that plainly enough ; but as for their 
 being all fafe and found, I much queltion it. The Car- 
 dinal being willing to have himlelf latisfy'd in that Parti- 
 cular likewife, would have had them all prcfently open'd ; 
 but I being defirous to lave him that Trouble, pointed to 
 that I would have viñted, and fo excus'd the reír. 1 de- 
 lir'd Leave, at the fame time, to go and fetch that which I 
 had in my Chamber, which was granted. But how great 
 was the Surprife of his Eminence, when he law the firil 
 Barrel open'd, and nothing but Dirt and Straw found 
 there, and afterwards perceiv'd me coming with the other 
 Barrel above half full of Sweetmeats. He own'd this lait 
 Fetch exceeded his Imagination, and that he could not com- 
 prehend it. All the relt of the Company were Jikcwilè 
 equally aftoniih'd ; but at length their Surpriie gave way 
 to Mirth, and they fell to Laughing and ]elting as before. 
 That however would not latishe me, I demanded- another 
 Barrel of Sweetmeats I had won, and his Eminence order'd 
 them to be given me. Then to fhew what 1 did was only 
 to divert his Eminence, and not with any Defign to get ano- 
 ther Barrel, for what I already had was enough for my Ulè, 
 1 dillributed this ltcond Barrel among my Comrades. His 
 Eminence extreamly approv'd my Gcncrofity ; but whatever 
 Plcafurc he took in my Tricks, he found I had too much 
 Cunning for a young Man, and fear'd the ill Coniequences 
 of it. He thought me too Bad for his Family, which had 
 none but honeirpeople in it; for he would lutter no other, 
 
 F f 2 and 
 
43 6 The Life and Actions Part I. 
 
 and he would no doubt have Caihired me that very Mo- 
 ment, but that he took pity of me, and apprehended, if he 
 abandon'd me, 1 might come to Ruin, which would after- 
 wards be great Concern to him. He therefore refolv'd to 
 retain me out of Charity, that he might have an Opportu- 
 nity to teach me better, and prevent, if poflible, my uttci 
 Definition. 
 
 — 1 ^ 7^ 
 
 CHAP. IX. 
 
 Guzman fpeaks of Charity in relation to the Cardinal ; 
 ana then jhews the Incon r venie?tcies of Mafiers being over- 
 rigorous and unkind to their Servants. He next tells 
 ypu another Theft of his, and hoiv well he came off. 
 Afterwards he proceeds to treat of Gaming, and Jhews 
 the Rogueries of it. Here he tells a pleafant Story ; 
 and at laft, having recommended fome haws for Ga- 
 ining, acquaints you how he was difmifs d the Car- 
 dinal's Service, and on what Condition he was to re- 
 turn into it, 
 
 'XHere never was a better Nobleman, nor a better Matter, 
 A than this Cardinal. I have eliewhere difcours'd of 
 Charity largely enough ; yet I muii here beg leave to add 
 a Word or two more concerning it, in relation to this Pre- 
 late, who was Charity and Coodncfs it lelf. Charity 
 obliges us to love our Servants, and have the lame Care of 
 them we have of our Children : An Example hereof we 
 have in this good Prelate, which ought to charm all fuch 
 as have any Notion of loving their Neighbour. He thought 
 of all the Ways imaginable to alter my bad Courfe of Life, 
 and ipar'd no Pains to make me take to the Road of Vir- 
 tue ; yet his Methods of Reclaiming were gentle, and not 
 violent, which would but have frightned me, and never 
 wrought upon my Inclination. It was not his Character 
 to threaten or puniih, but to proceed by the mildeit Means 
 that could be ; fuch as Inftruótion, Remonftranccs, Kind- 
 nelTc?, and the like. When he w r as at Table, and fancy'd I 
 had a mind to any Bit there, he would be iure to givç 
 
 it 
 
Book III. of Guzman cPAlfarache.^ 437 
 
 it me with ibrne Jett or other ; as he did one Day, when 
 he gave me a piece of excellent Patty. Here, Guzman, 
 laid he, take this as an Eamett of my good Will, and for 
 Continuance of our Peace, for I would not willingly have 
 any Difference with thee. I am not braver than Signior 
 Nicola ; and befides, have but too muchrealbn to be afraid 
 of my Sweetmeats. Thus he pleas'd himfelf in Rallying 
 and Jetting with his Servants whatever Company was with 
 him. He lookd upon them all as his Children, he treated 
 them accordingly, and they fcrv'd him rather as a common 
 Father than Mailer. No Children could have more Affe- 
 ction for their Parents, than they fhew'd for him upon all 
 Occafions. Thofc People that have Servants, know not 
 what they do when they treat them haughtily and rigo- 
 roufly 1 they had much better have none at all, for it would 
 be more to their Content. Servants are Men like other 
 Folks j ufe them well, and they'l ierve you well ; abuie 
 them, and they'l abuie you. Such as the Matter is, fo is 
 commonly the Servant. This is a Proverb moil proper for 
 us. If you pay him ill, and cheat him of his Wages, he'l 
 be fure to cheat you whenever he has an Opportunity. 
 If you mifufe him within Doors, he will not fail to do 
 the like by you without. If you ruffle him with hard 
 Words, he wont fparc your Character when it comes to 
 his Turn. If you dont love him, he'l be fure to hate you. 
 In a word, as there is nothing better than a good Servant, 
 there is nothing worfe than a bad ; and 'tis to the Matters 
 that either Quality muft be alcrib'd. They are commonly 
 iuch as they make them, or they deferve to have. The 
 belt Servant in the World will become a Rogue with a 
 bad Matter, and the worft may be reform'd with a 
 good. 
 
 Much about this time, a great Cheft of Sweetmeats W3S 
 brought his Eminence from Genoa. They were finer, better 
 gilded, and more neatly put up than thofe before ; yet ha- 
 ving taken Wet, they were damag'd, and had occalion to 
 be dried. His Eminence having view'd them with a great 
 deal of Pleafure, and the rather becaufe they came rrom 
 one of his Relations, who was accuftonVd to fend him 
 ibrne Yearly, had a mind to have them laid a drying in 
 fome Place where I might not get at them, but he knew 
 not where, and therefore confulted every Body about it. 
 
 F f 3 Each 
 
438 The Lije and Anions Fart I. 
 
 Each Perfon gave his Advice fingle, but no Body would 
 take the Charge of them. After having confider'd fome 
 time, his Eminence thought he liad found out a better Me- 
 thod to preferve them than any Body ; and what fhould 
 that be, but to entruit me my ielf with them. I was at 
 that time out of the Houfe, and returned juft as they were 
 debating about this Contrivance ; fo that his Eminence no 
 iooner law me, but he cry'd, We are at a lois, Guzman, 
 where to lay thefe Sweetmeats a drying, for they have 
 occafion for it, and I. am very much afraid of the Rats. 
 If your Eminence, reply'd I, will but pleale to entruft me 
 and my Comrades with them, well take Care the Rats 
 ihan't come at them. I believe as much, rcparteed his 
 Eminence laughing, but I fhould get nothing by that. 
 I have had Thoughts, Guzman, added he, to iecure them 
 from the Rats, thy Companions, and efpecially from thy 
 ielf, by putting them under thy Care, that thou may 'ft lay 
 them every Day out in the Sun, and, above all, lee that 
 thy Companions don't touch them. But this is no Jefting- 
 Matter, proceeded he ; they ihall be given thee out by Tale, 
 and in like manner will be required of thee again. Thou 
 fee'ft in what Condition they now are, and be íure thou, 
 reftor'ft them in the lame Plight thou rcceiv'ft them. 
 ïf thou fail'ft in any Particular, thou diibbligeft me for ever. 
 Your Eminence , reply I , puts me upon a very great 
 Temptation. I can anlwer for fecuring your Sweetmeats 
 from the Rats my Companions, but from my Ielf I cannot. 
 I am, my Lord, the Son of Eve-, and if I am planted in 
 a fort of íweet Parad i íe, I know not but fome Coniervc 
 of Genoa may chance to tempt me. Do as thou wilt, 
 reply'd the Cardinal, who could hardly fpeak any more for 
 laughing, but thou muft be the Guardian of them, and 
 fee thou reftore them in the fame Condition thou found'ft 
 them, or it will be the worfe for thee. If that be all, 
 reply I, my Lord, I undertake it. 1 will be lure to re- 
 ftore them in the lame Condition Ï find them, or at leaft 
 no Body fhall be able to find me out if I eat any of them. 
 Very well, be it fo, reply'd his Eminence ; If thou art 
 •Artift enough for that, I forgive thee with all my Heart ; 
 but if thy Roguery happens to be diicovcr'd, thou fhalt be 
 afluredly lafhÙ I undertook the Cliarge on thefe Terms ; 
 and that very Day laid them out to dry in the Gallery, 
 
 one 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 43^ 
 
 one Box after another, they being indeed the finétt Sweet- 
 meats I ever faw. When i had io done for lèverai 
 Days íucceífrvely, and they began to be dry enough, i Was 
 thinking how I fhould do to get a Share for my ielf, with- 
 out running any Riibuc. I thought the propereft way 
 would be, to turn up the Boxes and take off the Bottoms, 
 which I did, by drawing forth the Nails gently with a 
 Knife; and then having taken out what 1 wanted, and 
 rilfd up the void Spaces with Paper, I clos'd them up again 
 as neatly as they were at firft. I ferv'd onlv Four To, con- 
 tenting my ielf with thole only for the jeft's fake. At 
 Night, when his Eminence was giving a Collation, I came 
 to him, and told him, I thought the Sweetmeats weredry'd 
 enough, and therefore they might well be clos'd up. He 
 ask'd me if they were all iafe. I anfwer'd, I bcliev'd no 
 Body could find to the contrary if they were not. He 
 would needs fee them ; and io I and Three of my Compa- 
 nions went and brought each of us a Box to him. They 
 happen'd to be the very Four deficient Boxes I had made 
 the Experiment upon ; and when I thought I had an Op- 
 portunity to fpeak, I ask'd his Eminence, if I had acquitted 
 my ielf well of my Charge, or not. He look'd very nar- 
 rowly upon them, examin'd them on all Sides, and at Jail 
 was tore'd to contéis, he thought they were as they were at 
 firtt. Neverthclefs, to be fure, he ask'd the Standers-by 
 what they thought of them. They look'd more narrowly 
 than lie had done, and to be certain would have been 
 glad to have pick'd a hole in my Coat ; but when they had 
 done their utmolt, they were in like manner obhg'd to 
 own, they could not fee any thing wanting in thofe Four 
 Boxes. They mutt then needs go and vifit the other?, 
 which I had not touch'd, and to be fure they could find 
 nothing miflfing there ; lo that his Eminence at length de- 
 clar'd, if I had robb'd him he would freely forgive me, 
 fmce there was not the lcatt Appearance of it, and I had 
 done it dcxtroufly. Hearing this, I went and brought 
 thole I had ttolen in a Baion, and prefented them to his 
 En;i/tence¿ protetting I had not tatted a Bit of them, which 
 indeed was true. He was wonderfully furpris'd, and 
 would needs know how I came at them : I iTiew'd him ; 
 and the rett of the Night was fpent in Raillery upon this 
 iutyeçt. Ï was now look'd upon in our Family as no- 
 -' F if 4 thin 
 
 / 
 
44 à The Ufe and ABions Part í» 
 
 thing lcís than a ]ugler or Hocta-Poctts Man, and every 
 Body was fo afraid ofme, that where Ï came they were pre- 
 sently upon their Guard. We had Four Hours allow'd us 
 every Day for Study, Two in the Morning, and Two after 
 Dinner.to learn Latin and Greek, of both which, by my Ap- 
 plication, I had acquir'd a competent Knowledge. The 
 reit of our Time, and when we were not employ'd in 
 waiting on his Eminence, we fpent in reading diverting 
 Books, learning to Sing, and iometimes to Game, which 
 laii Recreation I was a little more perfect in than was ne- 
 cefiary. If we went abroad, it was only for ibme fhort 
 time to vint the Gingerbread-man whom 1 always robb'd, 
 cr the Paflry-Cook who always robb'd us. Sometimes 
 we would give Serenades and cold Treats to the Ladies of 
 our Neighbourhood, but then we were fain to be Cau- 
 tious ; for if his Eminence had come to know it, all the Fat 
 would have been in the Fire. Thus I fpent fome Years of 
 my Youth ,• and when I came to be older, I grew never 
 the wiier. You 1 eafily believe this, when I ihall tell you, 
 that tho 5 I liv'd fo happily with this Lord, who had all 
 the Kindnefs îor me imaginable, and much beyond the De- 
 fert of luch a poor Rogue as i was, I ftill thirfted after 
 the life of a Beggar, which, I look'd upon a thoufand 
 times more agreeable than that I led in this Palace, be- 
 cauie a Beggar's life had Liberty, which I wanted, and be- 
 liev'd no Condition could be happy without it. More- 
 over finding I had now a Beard, and was fit to wear á 
 Sword, I cryYl, What ! fhall I be a Page all my Life long; 
 and live in a Mouiè-Trap ! fo my extravagant Defires 
 made me to call my noble Lord's Palace. It is high time 
 to look out, and leek to make my Fortune. I was in a 
 Place proper enough for that, if I would have been my 
 own Friend, and taken right Meafures ; but I mutt have 
 my Vagaries, and follow my own Fancy ; I could not be 
 confine!, but muft tread in a Path that led direétly tó 
 Ruin. I had been fo accuftom'd to Play, that now I could 
 not leave it ¿ infomuch, that at length neglecting all my 
 Duties, and not finding Gamefters high enough for me 
 within DoorSj I would needs go abroad, and were not 
 fcen fometimes for a whole Day together, and oftentimes 
 loft the very Shirt from rny Back. As I was naturally not 
 bvtr-fcrupulcusjl was leis io in Gaming than any thing elfe* 
 
 » ' for 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfaráche. 44 1 
 
 for Í would win any Body's Money if I could, tho 5 never 
 ib unfairly. Sometimes indeed I did win, but oftner loft ; 
 for as I play'd with every one I met, I could not fail of 
 meeting many times with thole that were too cunning; for 
 me, who wou Id get more of me at one throw, than' per- 
 haps I had got in twenty. I was ski I I'd above all at Pri- 
 mera, which was a Game then very much in Vogue ; and 
 knew how to give my lelf Three Cards when I flSould 
 have but Two if I was to Deal, and afterwards Two in- 
 ftead of one ; fo that having Five in my Hand, I would 
 let Two Hide down gently under my Feet, and play with 
 the other Three that to be fure were the belt At other 
 times, I would take the third Card, and clapping it under- 
 neath, fee whether it were good for me or not ; and in an 
 Inftant look on the other already feen, and fo make my 
 Advantage of them. But thefe were but final 1 Tricks: 
 Never was Man more adroit than I in flipping a Card, and 
 no Body ever underftood turning a Game all of a fudden fo 
 well as I. I would have the Aid Card ready in my Sleeve, 
 and when I gave the Cards to my Antagonift to cut, and 
 receiv'd them again, Iwouldilily flip that Card where I 
 thought fit to place it. How often had I a Friend fit by 
 me, or, as we call him in Spain, a Deacon, and in France, 
 a Croupier, who would lean upon the Tabic as if he were 
 afleep, and yet give me under it fuch Cards as I wanted. 
 At other times, I had a Perfon that would be continually 
 walking round the Room where weplay'd, who by Singing, 
 Whittling, Dumb Signs, or fome other fuch like Token 
 agreed on between us, would give me notice how the Game 
 flood. How often would I fo pack the Cards, that I 
 would deal to him that play'd againrt me Two and fifty, 
 and having an Ace to help me, would make my felf Five 
 and fifty¿ or elfe with a Five encounter Four and fifty, 
 whereby I fhould either win the Game by one Peep, or by 
 the elder Hand. I have known People a great deal more 
 expert and dextrous at thefe Matters, in fome Particulars, 
 than my felfj whole Secrets, fhould I tell you them, would 
 fill a large Volume. I have alfo known even Churchmen en- 
 
 fage in this Myftery ; but for Perfons of Quality and 
 'rince?, it was a common thing to have them of our Fra- 
 ternity, and I could name lèverai if I pleas'd. But let us 
 fee thcle Churchmen, how they behave themfelves when 
 
 they 
 
44* The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 they fit as Deacons. Why, they fit in their little black 
 Cloaks, and when they have Opportunity, Aide a falfe 
 Card into your Hand, if you are of Intelligence with 
 them. They go to famous Ordinaries, where young Stran- 
 gers eat, on purpofe to draw them in to play, where a 
 third Sharper will be fure to be found to engage them. 
 Other Matters of this kind are understood admirably well 
 by thefe Gentlemen with the little Bands, who will not 
 fail to bite your Head off if you have any thing to do 
 with them. As for the Ladies, they are as frequently as we 
 infected with this Peftilence ; and being naturally more fub- 
 jecl to Paifion, when once Gaming has taken Pofleifion of 
 them, you never find them reclaim'd. They break thro' 
 all Difficulties to gratifie that Inclination ; io that a Man 
 that can't prevail over his Miftrefs's Virtue, needs only 
 teach her to play, and he Chali do what he pleafes with lier. 
 Here occurs a Story I m uil needs tell you on thisOccafion ; 
 I warrant it for Truth, becaufe I knew the Pcrfons who 
 were the Subjects of it. A Gentleman, one of the moft 
 confiderable of his Province, and who had Qualities fuffi- 
 cient to recommend him to the whole World, happened 
 to be enamour'd of a Lady, one of the handibmeft of the 
 City where fhe liv'd, but in Matters of Love a very Lh- 
 cretia, at lea it in Appearance, for -fhe fuftcr'd abundance 
 of her Admirers to die as it were at her Feet. This made 
 her pafs for one of more than ordinary Virtue, her Lovers 
 being all Perfons of extraordinary Merit and great Accom- 
 plishments. Our Lover, however, of whom I am fpeak- 
 jng, was not dilcourag'd for all this. He fancy'd he fhould 
 be happier than any of thefe, tho' he kid not, it may be, 
 the fame Defert, fince he knew Women to be whimllcal, 
 and not to continue lone; in the lame Mind. He knew fhe 
 lov'd Play ; and altho' me was not fo much addicted to 
 it as ibme Women arc,, in regard to her Husband's Intercft 
 and her own Reputation, yet ihc did not fail iometimes 
 to lofe large Sums. Tho' he did not love Gaming him- 
 lelf, altho' he could very well afford it, being exceeding 
 rich; yet confidering that Women love naturally to get 
 by PJay, he thought it would be attacking lier in lier 
 weakeft Part, to play with and lofe to her. He turn'd 
 then Gamefter all of a fudden, and got into all thole Sets 
 where fhe was, and would, as often as he could, chule to 
 
 play 
 
Book III. o/Guzman d'Alfarache. 443 
 
 play with her alone, that ihe might have the foie Benefit 
 of nis Lofings : But as he had not been in the leaft us'd 
 to Gaming,and tho' he had ftudy'd thoiè Games he knew his 
 Miftreis delighted in, he was not over-well skilfd in them, 
 ihe out of a generous Humour, not common with Women, 
 rcfus'd to play with him, becauie ihe was fure to win, 
 nay one Day told him as much. Our Lover finding his 
 Hopes crols'd this way, was fain to hive Recourfe to others, 
 nay, try'd all ways that a Man paflionatcly in Love, as he 
 was, could think of, to bend the ltubborn Heart of his dear 
 Miftreis. The whole Town were Witneflès of his Conilancy, 
 AiTiduity and Fidelity, yet all prov'd Fruitleís, fo that he 
 liv'd in a manner in Delpair, and conlequently Ibught 
 all Means to rid himlelf of his exorbitant PaiTion. At 
 length, however, good Fortune delign'd to linile on him, 
 for one Day, when lie leaft thought of it, Word was 
 brought him a Lady deiir'd to fpeak with him. He knew 
 not what this fhould mean, yet ordered ihe ihould be 
 conducted in to him. He loon after law a Woman enter 
 with her Hoods over her Face, probably that ihe might 
 not be known to his Servants. He took her Meaning, and 
 immediately ordered them to go out of his Clumber; 
 which done, he came up to her. and ask'd in what he 
 could lave, and what had brought her to his Lodging!? 
 She lifting up her Hoods, gave hirn to underftand wnoïhe 
 was ; and then he law, with great Surprife and Wonder, 
 ihe Was his Miftreís's Confidente and Waiting-Woman. 
 Having made him fome few Compliments on the part of 
 her Lady, Ihe put a Letter into his Hands, which ihe told 
 him .require! a fpeedy Anfwer. He lcrupled to take it at 
 fir ft, as not knowing what to think of it, his Miftreis 
 having never done him the like Favour before ; but at 
 Jcngth he did venture upon it, and opening it, found the 
 following Words. 
 
 " Of all the Friends I ever had, I will not lay I have 
 " lov'd you beft, becauie I could never love any Body 
 " but my Husband ; but that you are the Perlón I have 
 (l always beft eftcem'd is moft true, becauie you are one 
 ;c on whole Dilcretion and Goodneis I could ever beft de- 
 " pend. I have now Occafion for fuch a Friend : I play'd 
 
 " Yeiier- 
 
444 ÏÏ je Life and Aüiom Part I* 
 
 " Yeflernight a little more raihly than ordinary with 
 
 " the Marquis of N- , an unfuccefsful Rival or your?, 
 
 " who I fuppofe thought to gain my Heart by ruining my 
 
 " Fortune, and winning more of me than I was able to 
 
 " pay. It was 30000 Francs ; but 'tis your Love rnuit 
 
 " revenge me on his Malice. This is the Price of my 
 
 " Favour : And if you don't think it too high rated, 
 
 " as I truft you Will not, if your former Profeflions were 
 
 " fincere, lay hold of this Opportunity to triumph over 
 
 " your Rival , who would have triumph'd over my 
 
 " Weaknefs, and to whom you owe the good Fortune of 
 
 " this Day. Afliit me only to fatisfie him in another 
 
 " manner than what he pretends to. I am verily per- 
 
 " iuaded you are generous enough to do it without In- 
 
 " tererr, but I care not to be indebted to any Body, and 
 
 " fhould be highly ungrateful, if after you have acouitted 
 
 " your felf fo generouily to me, I fhould not do trie like 
 
 " by you to my Power : To morrow I promis'd to pay 
 
 " this Sum. Get but 30000 Francs ready againft Night, 
 
 " and 1*11 draw a Bill upon the God of Love to repay you 
 
 " with Intereit. This Letter will be your Pledge till you 
 
 " are repaid, when you mull reftore it. Adieu till Night, 
 
 '* when Love will have his Part to Aér. 
 
 This Letter had not all the Efrecl upon this Lover's 
 Heart one might reafonably have expected 5 for tho' he 
 had lov'd this Lady with an incredible Paifion for a long 
 while, and now faw his Defires like to come to a happy 
 Conclufion ; yet being a perfectly honeft Man, his Love 
 began to leiTen, when he found to what he was to be in- 
 debted for his Happinefs. He could not, I lay, above 
 half Value now what he would have facrifie'd a thou- 
 fand Live6 for before, fince he faw it ofter'd at fo cheap 
 a Purchaie. Neverthelefs, Love, which had for a long 
 time taken deep Root in him, would not iufler him to 
 be ruf d by his Reafon,but engag'd him wholly to his Party, 
 rendering him in an inftant fuch as Lovers are wont to be 
 on the Eve of their Happinefs, that is, altogether tran- 
 fported with Expe&ation. He therefore took Pen, and 
 writ the following Aniwer. 
 
 " When 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 445 
 
 " When an honeft Man has once parted with his Heart, 
 " his Purfe is wholly infignificant to him. I would wil- 
 " J i ugly owe your Favour to Love, rather than the Fortune 
 " of Play j but from what Quarter foever it comes, be af- 
 " iur'd 'tis equally welcome. As every thing in you is ex- 
 " traordinary, fo I find your manner of Loving is, frnce Ga- 
 " ming was the firft occafion of it. We l'hall now recon- 
 " cile two Things that are the moft incompatible in Na- 
 [' ture, and thole are, Love and Play. I'll anfwer for the 
 ' former, do you but make your felf Miftrefs of the latter, 
 " land there l'hall not be in the World two fuch happy Lo- 
 " vers as our lèlves. I die with Impatience for this Union ; 
 " but after lb many Years of Expectation, do not delay my 
 '' Happinels fince you are pleas cl to allure me of it, if you 
 *' would have me capable of enjoying it. I ilia 11 count 
 " all the Minutes, and to be lure reckon them much longer 
 *' than they are till I fee you. How happy are you that ne- 
 (C ver knew what it was to figh, but I lnall be a thoufand 
 " times yet more happy if I can have but the good Fortune 
 " to teach it you, and fince you fay Play has thrown you 
 fc into the Arms of Love, if I can but fecure you there. 
 
 Adieu my Heart's Delight. 
 
 This Anfwer thus writ he folded and feal'd it, and ha- 
 ving put it into the Hands of the Confidente to deliver to her 
 Lady, he withal defir'd her to acquaint her he would not 
 Itir out all that Day in expectation to hear further from her. 
 W T hen the Woman was gone, he no fooner found himlèlf 
 alone, but he began to read his Miftrefs's Letter over and 
 over a thoufand times, not being able to imagine what he 
 law with his own Eyes, fo Ungular the Adventure appear'd 
 to him. But when he came to reflect on the unfuccefsful 
 Length of his Amour; and that at latt, when he leait 
 thought of it, his Miitrefs threw her felf into his Arms up- 
 on account of a little Pique at Play, he was above once in 
 the mind to have renounce all Commerce with her. She 
 made him at lait fenfible, I fay, how fmall a Share he had 
 in this Matter, and what a Woman's Heart was, whofe 
 Virtue he thought inflexible. But there was one Paflage in 
 this Letter which feem'd yet more furprifing to him, and 
 
 that 
 
446 The Ufe and ASiio?is Part I. 
 
 that was, that he was to reftore the Billet after he had recei- 
 ved his Payment. A Confideration of that fort, after a 
 Woman had refign'd her Honour, he fancied look 'd a little 
 extraordinary, and feem'd to foretel lome Defign upon .him, 
 which he cculd not as yet comprehend. He tnought when 
 a Town was once furrender'd, 'twas to little purpole to 
 keep the Gates lhut, and after the Principal was paid, it 
 was needleis to be icrupulous about the Intereft. He belie- 
 ved it would be but prudent in him to have ibme Sally- 
 Port to el'cape at in cafe he found Treachery in the Place. 
 This Device was to Copy the aforeiaid Letter fo exactly, 
 that the true one might not be known from it ; which he 
 did, and ieafd and broke it open again in like manner as* 
 the Original had been. Having lo done, he kept both lafe, 
 and ipent the remainder of the Day in getting together the 
 3C0Q0 Francs in Gold, and drefling hiinfelf, which he did 
 after the moft magnificent Manner imaginable. When 
 Night came, which he Jook'd upon to be that of his Nup- 
 tials, he was lent for according to Promife. The Confidents 
 entering his Chamber, told him he was ltay'd for, and that 
 her Lady was already at the Place of Rendezvous. She told 
 liim where it was, but requeued him in her Lady's Name 
 to bring no Servants with him, nor come in his own Coach 
 for fear of Difcovery. The Gallant thought all thefe Pre- 
 cautions highly necelTary, and therefore told her, line might 
 allure her Lady he would be lure to obierve all her Com- 
 mands punctually. The Houle this Lady had pitch'd upon 
 for this Interview, was that of a Relation of hers, whom 
 ine could truit, and who knew not this Gentleman. He 
 came thither loon after in a Hackney-Coacb, wrap'd up m 
 a Scarlet Cloak that concealed his Finery, and his Money 
 that he carry 'd in a Bag under his Arm. Having difmifs'd. 
 the Coach which he had no farther occafion for, he enter'd 
 the Houie, and was conducted to the Lady's Chamber, 
 which he found extraordinarily well fet out. The Lady was 
 there all alone in a magnificent Difabillce, but mask'd. As 
 icon as lhe law him enter the Room, ihe ran to him, and 
 told him with a tender and engaging Air, lhe had a Favour 
 to beg of him above all Things, which was, that he would 
 not oblige her to pull off her Mask, frnce lhe lhould be 
 much more {ret with him in cale he did not. The Lover . 
 3ttfwer'd, That would be depriving him of more than half 
 
 *** " ois 
 
 I 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 44? 
 
 hisPkafure, by milling the Satisfaction of feeing her char- 
 ming Face ; but fince it was her Defire it íhould be ib, he 
 was contented. Their Converfation having begun here, 
 what followed was much more raviihing and delightful, 
 which every Reader will be apt to guels at without my fur- 
 ther Explanation. It is enough he knows what pafs'd was 
 between two Lovers, well intention'd and aimable, who 
 had known one another a great while, and were not come 
 thither to pick Straws. For my part, I believe they pafs'd 
 their Time very agreeably, fince they fpent a good part of 
 the Night in that Recreation. Story tell?, That both being 
 weary and quite tir'd out, at length the Lady thinking it 
 high time to be gone, began to ask the Gentleman if he 
 was fatisfVd with her; and behaving anfwer'd with the pro- 
 foundeft Humility and Tranlport, that no Creature upon the 
 Earth could be more happy tnan lhe had made him. lhe de- 
 fir'd he would then give her the Letter again as he nad pro- 
 mis'd. The Lover without any manner of Delay put his 
 Hand in his Pocket, and gave it her, but it was the falle 
 One which he had plac'd there on purpofe, having the other 
 life at home. As loon as lhe had got it, flie only opened it 
 a little carelefly, and believing it to be the lame ihe had 
 w r rit, put it into the Flame of the Candle and burnt it. 
 Then lhe thankd her dear Lover for his Complaifance and 
 ExaCtnels ; and afterwards, this being the laft Scene of this 
 happy Comedy, gave him to underhand it was time to ie- 
 parate. He would have fiin had her unmask , but lhe 
 found fo many Excuies to the contrary, he thought belt to 
 let her alone. Then began new Protections of Love and 
 Kindnefs, Conibncy and Fidelity ; but at length the Time 
 being come that they mult part, the Lover was obliged to go 
 full, however unwilling he leem'd, that he might give op- 
 portunity to the Lady to go when lhe pleas'd. This Adieu 
 tvas tender and touching, and never Man underwent lb le- 
 yere a Trial. He did not forget, as he went out, to pay his 
 Acknowledgments to the Confidente and the Landlady after his 
 accultom'd generous Manner. The Lady nolooner found her 
 lclf alone, but lhe cnquir'd of her Confidente for the Money, 
 and having feen it in good Gold, lockd it up in a Scrutore, 
 in order to be carry'd to the Marquis of A 7 —— the next Day, 
 Then leaving upon the Table a very fine Ring for the M¡- 
 tíreís of the Houle, who defu'd no better Vifits every Dav, 
 
 ihc 
 
44 8 The Life and Aftions Part I r 
 
 ihe went and took Coach at a Lady's, a Friend of hers, 
 and fo drove home exceedingly fatisfy'd that ihe had got 
 clear of an Affair which very much troubl'd her, and winch 
 was indeed the worft that had ever happen'd to her during 
 her whole Life. 
 
 The Morning following, our happy Lover, wcllpleas'd 
 he had at length come to enjoy the Bleffing he had to long 
 figh'd for, put on a new Suit of Cloaths, and went to Mafs 
 to fee his Miftrefs, being more than ordinarily defirous to 
 know whether he had pleas'd her or not. He entered the 
 Church with fuch an Equipage as made every body to (tare 
 at him, tho' that was but an ordinary Thing for him to do ; 
 and approaching his Miftrcfs with that Reipecl he ufually 
 paid her, tho' with an Air of more Satisfaction than before, 
 he ask'd her in her Ear, How ihe had fpent the remainder of 
 the Night. The Lady, who receiv'd him with a great deal 
 of Coldnefs and Referve, anfwer'd, ihe fpent it as ihe us'd 
 to do ; but could not but wonder what made him to ask 
 her fuch a Queition. He beginning to fmile, as verily 
 thinking ihe had rallied, repli'd, He thought he had good 
 Reafon for what he faid, fince he was fure ihe had above 
 half the Pleafure. At this the Lady bluihing, cri'd, fure 
 you Dream to talk to me after this rate. The Lover, great- 
 ly furpris'd to hear her fay fo, look'd round about to fee if 
 any body heard them, and rinding no body near enough, 
 repli'd lmiling as before, That indeed fince he had never 
 had that Happinefs before , he might well have taken it for 
 a Dream, had it not been for ibme folid and real Circum- 
 ftances which convine'd him to the contrary. I declare, con- 
 tinu d ihe, with the fame haughty Air ihe afl'um'd at firir. 
 I know not what you mean , nor can imagine what ihoulcl 
 induce you to affront me after this rate. How, Madam, re- 
 pli'd the Gentleman, who now began to be a little warm. 
 Is it becaufc you had a Mask upon your Face that you de- 
 ny^ what pafs'd between us lait Night? And what pafs'd, 
 cri'd ihe briskly ? Nothing, Madam, repli'd he jeering, if 
 you have a mind to have it fo. But, continu'd he, I little 
 thought you would have made a Miitery of thole happy 
 Minutes that we fpent together. What happy Minutes ? 
 end ihe in a great Paillon? Speak, explain your ielf. Ex- 
 plain my felf, quoth he ! Why Madam, and lb he went 
 
 on, and told the whole Story, whiffy being top lulcious, 
 
 for 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarachc. 449 
 
 for me to repeat, I hope the Reader will hold me excus'd if 
 I omit it. The L^dy not being able to bear io great free- 
 dom taken with her, (kpt up cloie to him, and told him, 
 he was an impudent Fellow to affront her after that rate, 
 and at the fame time gave him fuch a Box o'th' Ear as was 
 heard over half the Church. The Gentleman, 'tis true, had 
 here an occafiou for all his Prudence to hinder him from 
 flriking a Woman, which he «ras about to do, and from 
 behaving himièlf irreverently in a Place that there could 
 not be too much Refpcct paid to. He recover'd then from 
 his firit Tranlport, and being willing to offend neither good 
 Manners nor his Conicience, contented himfelf with tel- 
 ling her as loud as he could ipeak, that every body might 
 hear him, Ah ! Madam , then I find I have bought your 
 Favours a little too dear,and for Conicicncc-iakc you would 
 give ine this Box o'th' Ear back again. You thought, I 
 iuppole, 30000 Francs was too much for one Night's Lodg- 
 ing, and truly I now think fotoo; but I'm lure Í paid 
 down lo much, and have a good Billet at home under your 
 Hand to prove it ; for don't miftake your iclf, Madam, you 
 did not burn the Original, but the Copy only. The Lady 
 beginning to repent of the raili Action the had committed^ 
 from exceeding ruddy that fhe was before, tum'd all of 
 a iudden as pale as Death, fearing íhe inould be ruin'd if he 
 had really the Billet he pretended to have, and having only 
 Strength to creep out of the Church, ine took Coach and 
 hurry 'd home as fail as the could. The Gentleman, about 
 whom all his Friends were got, highly relenting theRalh- 
 nefs of the Lady, tum'd the Matter to Ridicule as well as he 
 could, for it was not an eafy matter. This Adventure ibon 
 made a great Noife, not only in the Church where it had 
 given great Offence, but throughout the whole City, where 
 every body related it as they thought fit, but none forgot 
 the Circumlfance of the 30000 Francs which they heard the 
 Gentleman infinuate he had given the Lady for a Night's 
 Lodging. As for the Gentleman, his Friends would needs 
 wait upon him home, and he itay'd them at Dinner, when 
 they preis'd to know of him what had been the occafion of 
 all tnat Difafter. He told them;, his Defign was to tell 
 them ; for lince he had been ib abus'd by that Lady, who 
 not content to make a Cully of him, muít likewiie affront 
 him in that infupportable manner, he thought he was 
 
 G g no 
 
45 o The Life a?id Aiïiom Part L 
 
 no longer oblig'd to keep her Secrets , though of never 
 fo great Concern to her. He up then and told them the 
 whole Story, and ¿hewing them the Letter, ibme of the 
 Company knew the Lady's Hand. By this means, the 
 Thing became loon publick to the Lady's great Confufion, 
 who being got into the Country, forfook not only Play, 
 but durit not appear in any Company for a long time 
 after. 
 
 . 1 could tell thec, Reader, a great many oiher Stories re- 
 lating to Play, if I had no 'other Subject to entertain thee 
 wiûi but that ; but as I have other Things to go upon, 
 thou mull content thy felf with this, which is fingular in its 
 Kind, yet true to my Knowledge. To goon then, and con»- 
 elude this Chapter,. I muft needs fay, I think it would be 
 for the Pubück Good, fince the Villanies in Gaming are 
 everywhere allow'd, that every body ihould be permitted 
 them, and no body punilh'd for pracufing them; that there 
 ihould be Academies eítabliíhM to learn them in, and Ma- 
 iler-Rogues appointed to teach them, in like manner as 
 there are Fencing-Schools to teach the Art of Defence, not 
 to murder any body, but to defend one's felf as often as 
 there ihould be occafion. The fame in refpeét to Play ; one 
 may learn the Art of Gaming, and all the Tricks belonging 
 to it, the better to defend ones Eftate againit Sharpers, Set- 
 ters, and iuch-1 ike Vermin ; and tho' there are thoie that 
 would make an ill ufe of this Liberty, yet there arc others 
 to whom iuchLeiïons would be beneficial, and who would, 
 perhaps, bv that very Means be rcclaim'd from Play, when 
 no other Doctrine would do it. Then likewiie Rogues 
 would not have thofe Opportunities to cheatas they have 
 now, for then we might be able to contend with them up- 
 on the Square, and diîpute all Advantages withthem. Ga- 
 ming was invented to unbend the Mind,, and divert one in 
 ones Troubles and Afflictions; Avhenever it exceeds that 
 Rule, it becomes a PaiTion, a Vic?, an Infamy, and a Theft. 
 It is now become a Trade, and there are a great many Pro- 
 fels'd Game iters, who will pretend to be very honeit Peo- 
 ple ; but if they are íüch as they would be thought to be, 
 they need only confider the many Difad vantages and Mis- 
 fortunes that attend it, to encline them to ejuit it. Let thefe 
 honeit Gamllcrs tell me, if they do not always feek to play 
 with inch as are weaker than themfclves, and then if their 
 
 Aôtiou 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarathe. 451 
 
 A&ion be not as bad as Thieving. Let them tell me, if 
 they do not take any Thing from one they win of, where- 
 as in other Cales they would be much more Icrupulous. 
 Let them tell me, I iày, if they have always kept to the 
 fame Strictnefs in Play, and whether, when they have loil, 
 they have play'd with the fame Integrity as when they have 
 Won j if Gaming has not fore'd that from them, which 
 they have afterwards been oblig'd to blulh for; if ? in a 
 Word, they have not a thouland times lworn to toriake 
 Play, whereas they have return'd to it the next Minute. 
 But now many Queitions could I ask you upon this occa- 
 iion, who are, perhaps, a much greater Gamefter than my 
 felf, and underhand the Myilery much better. There are 
 a thouiand Confiderations to make a Man not only avoid 
 Play, but the Places where it is practised. For my part, as 
 I have already own'd to you lèverai times, it was one of the 
 chiefeft of my Vices, and which I had greatelt Reafon to. 
 alcribe my Ruin to. I had us'd it while I liv'd with my 
 firil Mailer, and confequently could not avoid it with my 
 fécond. Tis very difficult for one that is in Service, to ac- 
 quit himfelf as he ought towards his Mailer, if he be ad- 
 dicted to play. Ï hardly know one that Would entertain 
 iiich a Servant, for if he chances to lolè, the Mailer mult 
 be lure to pay for it one way or other ; and if he is not cn- 
 ttuiled with any thing of Value, as in mv Calé, then he 
 ivill not fail at kail to be wanting in his Duty every Mo- 
 ment, and mind every Thing more than his Mailer's Bufi- 
 ncis. His Eminence having been divers times informed of' 
 this, made ufe of all gentle Means to reclaim me, but to 
 110 purpole. One Day, as he was talking to lome of his 
 principal Domeilicks about me, he declared what a Kind- 
 neis he had for me, and how glad he would be of an Op- 
 portunity to do me good ; buf, added he, iince Ï find it 15 
 imponible to reclaim him by other Means, I'll try what 
 dilmiiling him will do; but iliîl I would have him eat 
 here, and be frequently told, That I would always be ready 
 to receive him again whenever hé ihould fottafee his ill 
 Courle of Life, and return to his Duty. O lingular Vir- 
 tue of a Prelate, worthy of eternal Fraile! who delèrv'd 
 not only to be lèrv'd and belovd as a Mailer, but to be 
 honour'd as a Father, fmce he treated his Servants more 
 like bis Children than Slaves. It was not long bclore 1 gay« 
 
 G g 2 bis 
 
. 45 2 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 his Eminence an occafion to put this Refolution of his in 
 Execution ; for forne few Days after I gave my felf fuch a 
 looie at Gaming , that I loft the very Cloaths off my Back, 
 and reducd my felf to an old tatter'd Waftcoat and 
 Breeches, which they would not throw at, or it had gone 
 too. This done, I made all the ha île I could home; but 
 what to do, not to wait on his Eminence any more , but to 
 avoid the fight both of him,and the reft of Mankind,as much 
 as I could. But I muil have Victuals ; why thofe I had by 
 means of a Brother-Page, who, tho' he brought them, ne- 
 ver law me. Whsn I had been milling for two Days, his 
 Eminence began to enquire after me, and no body daring to 
 tell him why I kept up, becaufe he hated to have us accule 
 one another, he began to grow importunate, and would 
 needs know where I was, and what occafion d my keeping 
 out of the way. Having underilood the Caufe, he was io 
 incens'd at my irregular Conduit, and want of Refpect for 
 him, that he immediately order'd a new Suit to be given 
 me, and fo bid them put me out of Doors, with this Cau- 
 tion neverthelefs, That in cafe I lliew'd the kail fign of 
 Repentance, I ihould be receiv'd again, and in the mean 
 time be maintained with Meat and Drink at bis Expence. 
 It was the Steward had this in Charge, who upon diiinil- 
 ilng me, gave me all the Aiïurances imaginable of his Emi- 
 nence's Favour in cafe I would return to my Duty ; but 
 Proud, and like a Dog as I was, as if I had deferv'd every- 
 thing, whereas I deferv'd nothing but this Fate which was 
 juftly beftow'd on me, I went away grumbling, and vow'd 
 never to let Foot more within thofe Doors. I kept to my 
 Refolution, notwithstanding all they could fay to me, and 
 thought I iufficiently rcveng'd my felf upon his Eminence by 
 ruining my Fortune. I became as great a Rogue as ever, 
 and render 'd my lelf highly unworthy of the Grace and 
 Favour Heaven liad beftow'd upon me by the means of this 
 Pious and Good Prelate, whole Goodnefs towards me was 
 inexpreifiblc. I became, however, at length truly fenfible 
 of my paft Folly, and would have conformed when it was 
 too late. I liv'd with that good Cardinal with greater Eaic 
 than I could have done with my own Father. He gave me 
 greater Liberty, and would often be pleas'd to hear me . 
 talk, becaulè I liad a ibrt of Wit that diverted him. I am 
 confident even my Father could not have indulg'd me more 
 
 than 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 453 , 
 
 than he did, nor would have tolerated in me half the Im- 
 pertinencies and Extravagancies. He never iliew'd himielf 
 weary of doing Good, nor ever gave me the leaft angry- 
 Word, tho' I defcrv'd lb many from him. In a Word, he 
 was Goodnefs it ièlf, and I altogether the contrary, ib that 
 'twas in a manner împoilible we lliould long agree together, 
 and fo we parted. 
 
 CHAP. X. 
 
 Cjuzman next ([ets into the Spaniih AmbaflaJors Service, 
 and tells yon what Tricks he flay" ¿I there j anX above all, 
 one very pleafant one that he fen/d a Frenchman, and 
 another that he play' J a Cordouan. 
 
 IFolIow'd' my Humour in every thing, and was ever 
 averie to all good Advice, refolving ftill to take my 
 own Courfe come what would of it, which was the i ca- 
 lón I always became my own Executioner, and in time 
 ruined my felf effectually. After I had thus foriaken my 
 good old Patron the Cardinal, I went rambling about the 
 Streets of Rome, not knowing whither I was going, or what 
 Employment I were beft to engage in next. Sometimes I 
 eat at one Friend's Houfc, for you rauft know I had got 
 Friends by living with this great Man ; and lbmetimes at 
 anothers, who being not much better than my felf, would 
 be lure always to give me bad Advice ; but leeing my Mo- 
 ney begin to fall ihort, they at length abandone! me, for 
 fear I might one Day become a Charge to them. I might, 
 if I had lo plcas'd, gone every Day and victual'd my Camp 
 at a much more honourable Place,' 1 mean my old Matters, 
 whither I was frequently invited; but I was fo bewitch'd, 
 it could never enter into my Head to do my ièlf fo much 
 good, which in time I had reafon to repent of heartily. I 
 «hole rather to i "punge upon thoie that wiih'd me hang'd for 
 my Pains. Do not pretend to judge of the Sincerity of a 
 Man's Invitation till you come to cat with him, for 'tis 
 then he will lnew you his true Countenance. People that 
 invite you, do it for the moft part out of Compliment, and 
 
 G g 3 therefore 
 
454 The Lije and Anions PartL 
 
 therefore thofc that underftand the World, arc very refcr- 
 ved upon that Head, and fufter themlelves to be invited 
 twice before they come once, The Spanijh Proverb lays, 
 Ton mufl not continue long at a Friend's Table, for fear you heat 
 the Chair : And another adds, With a Relation, a Week is 
 a great deal ; with a Brother, a Month ; n ith a good Friend, a, 
 Tear ; but rath your Father, tho he be bad, yw may ¡lay aU your 
 Life long, for he Kill hardly grudge yon your Viüuals. 
 
 Having at length oblerv'd I began to be troublefome to 
 my Friends, I thought of feeking out elicwhere for Suite- 
 nance. The Cardinal's Servants invited me no longer , 
 they began to be weary of me, and befides he ibon after 
 fell fick, and in a ihort time died, to my great Misfortune, 
 my Folly depriving me of that Share in his Favour which 
 ethers had, for he left every one of them a good Legacy. 
 Seeing my felf thus reducd to itraits, and knowing that 
 the Spanijh Ambaflador, who was one of my deceas'd Ma- 
 iler's particular Friends, had a great* kindnels forme, tho' 
 he durft not then take me for fear of dilobliging his Emi- 
 nence , I went now lie was dead , and offer 'd my Service to 
 him, and he receiv'd me very gracioufly. As he came often 
 to my Lord's, and confequently I had many Opportunities 
 of inewing him what I was good for, he took a great fan- 
 cy to me, and thought me proper to divert him. Spain has 
 been ever fruitful in good Genius's, and good Senfe feems 
 to have been allotted it naturally, we Spaniards pretending 
 to be more judicious and ready witted than other Nations 
 commonly are. This Minifter, who had been cholcn for 
 this EmbaiTy in a very nice Conjuncture, acquitted himlelf 
 perfectly well in it, being a Man of Parts, and no body had 
 that to fay againit him, which might be laid againit many 
 in the lame Employment ; but yet he had one Foible, which 
 great Perlons commonly have, and above all we Spaniards, 
 and that was, that he was a little too much addicted to the 
 fair Sc*j which took oft' from the Eiteem he would other- 
 wi.e have had in Rome, and made him to neglect the moft 
 important Affairs of his Mimitry. He law in me a Wit 
 very proper to promote his Amorous Intrigues, and that 
 it was he at fini Jefignd me for. This, 'tis true, is none 
 of the moil honourable Employments a Servant can have, 
 but yet it is the molí advantagious and agreeable, inafmuch 
 25 it makes one Mafter of ones Lord's Secrets, and procures 
 
 one 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 455 
 
 one the eafieft Accefs to his Favour and good Will. Great 
 Men mutt have all lbrts of People about them ; yet, to lay 
 truth, I was not over-proper tor this Bufinefs; however, 
 when a Man is once born a Rogue,he eafily brings his Mind 
 to all kinds of Roguery. He began to make ule of me, by 
 lending me on fome petty Meflagcs to ibme Ladies, wherein 
 I acquitted my felf tolerably well for a Beginner, and at 
 length became fo adroit, that he conceiv'd a more than or- 
 dinary Affection for me. In a word, I loon became F.rc- 
 Totum in this Houfe, and all I did was perfectly well lik'd. 
 This made fome of my Fellow-Servants envy me, eipcci-i 
 ally the Old Stagers, who would often call me Buffoon, 
 and lometimes their Lord's Mercury ; but as I gave them 
 jk> great Occafion of diilikc to me, and did not pretend to 
 cngrofs their Lord's Favour to their Prejudice, they liv'd in 
 good Intelligence with me, and would lometimes beg 
 Boons of me, for they faw I was always ready to oblige 
 every body. When they had any Trick to play any one, 
 they would always come to me, for I was juitly reputed 
 for fuch-like Fancies while I liv'd with the Cardinal, and 
 they knew I did not want Wit. We employed our ill Na- 
 ture moít againft Parantes andTrencher-Flics,who never ap- 
 pear before the Cloth is laid, and will ever be finding Fault 
 with fome thing or other, to ihew they are Perlons of Di- 
 flinclion. Thele Vermin incommoded his Excellency molt, 
 but we found Ways to get rid of them, for we us'd them 
 very lcurvily. As for l'uch as were really invited, and 
 whom we knew our Lord had any Rcfpect for, we would 
 be liirc to ferve them with the greatett Exactnefs. We al- 
 ways waited their Motions, and upon the lcalt Sign were 
 ready to bring them what they wanted. But for others I 
 have been fpeaking of, who were many times Perlons in a 
 manner unknown, Knight-Errants, and fuch-like Vagrants, 
 who came impudently to occupy honeft Mens Polls, Ave 
 would not fail to oblige our Lord Ambafla dor, by let- 
 ting them wait for Drink till they were ready to burir 
 again. They might make as many Signs as they would, 
 no body regarded them, no body undcrltood tlicm. If 
 we let them have a little Drink lometimes when we could 
 not avoid it, it lhould be lure to be lo little, that it ihould 
 rather icrve to encreafe their Thirit than quench it, or 
 i lie we gave it than without Ice in Summer, or in inch 
 
 G g 4 fort 
 
45 8 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 fort of Glaiïe?, that they ihould not be able to drink much 
 Out of them. If by chance the); happen'd to have a good Eit 
 before them, we would r.ot tail to change their Plates ib 
 foon that they ihculd not have time to taite it, and give 
 them in the room of it fomething that was very fait to 
 augment their Drought,or elfe what was the lean inviting at 
 Table without their calling for it, by which means we 
 fbmetimes drove away whole Shoals of them at a time. A- 
 mongthe reft, there was a Frenchman io verv impudent, that 
 he pretended to be Coufm-German to my Lord AmbaiUdor, 
 and who of confeo t uence mult be a Man of Quality -, but 
 you muit believe him on his Word, for he had no other 
 Proof to bring of it. He was of a very peculiar Character, 
 he talk'd inceftantly, and in iuch a Tone, that he leem'd to 
 demand Attention ; neverthelefs, what he laid was for the 
 inoft part very filly, and little to the Purpofe. His grcateit 
 Topick,and of which he was always top-full, was the Praile 
 of his own Nation. To hear him talk, you would have 
 thought there was no honeit People in any other Country, 
 nor none perfectly accomplilh'd but in that where he liv a : 
 That there was not elièwhere to be found any Nobility 
 well-bred, well educated, or that under fiood how *.y live. 
 Then he brag'd of the Greatnefs of his Country-rn^^^B^ . 
 their Fidelity towards their Kings, their Generofity tc> 
 Stranger?, and their Difmtereitedneis and Integrity u^on 
 all Occafions whatloever. He laid, there were no Women 
 more reíérv'd than his Country Ladies, nor who made Pro- 
 feflion of a more au (kre Virtue; that they diitinguilh'd 
 themi elves in Converfation as much by their Wit as their 
 Beauty ; that the Refpect they drew from Men by theie 
 mean c , amounted very often to a kind of Adoration ; that 
 they were towards Foreign Ladies Curtefy and Civility it 
 ièlf; that, generally iptaking, there was not a People of 
 more juil Dealing than were both the Men and Women • 
 that this charm'd all Strangers ; that there was not a foberer 
 Nation under the Copes of Heaven, nor one where the true 
 Religion was better obferv'd, and Juftice fpeedier admini- 
 fired without the lean Corruption. A thoulànd other Par- 
 ticulars he reckon'd up, which I have either forgot, or care 
 not to tell you, for fear of fatiguing you as much as he did 
 my Lord, who having formerly been Ambafladcr in France, 
 knew well what Credit to give to theie Stories. But being 
 
 at 
 
* 
 
Vol.1 
 
 P-4-srj 
 
Book III. of Guznhan d'Alfarache- 459 
 
 at length quite tired with hearing fo much on the fame 
 Subject, he laid one Day to me in Spanifh , which this 
 Frenchman did not underitand, This Coxcomb has weari'd 
 both my Eyes and my Ears. This was enough for me, and 
 his Excellency did not lpeak to one that was deaf". The 
 Company fitting down to Supper, I made it my Bulincls to 
 wait upon our French Adventurer, who calling lor Wine 
 plentifully with a great deal of Aflurance, arWhis wonted 
 manner, I were lure to give him that which was itrongefl, 
 that he might come the oftcner, which in truth he did, to 
 quench his Thirit. I likewile took care to help him to the 
 ialteft Bits and the largeft Glafl'es, which out of the accu- 
 ftom'd Sobriety of his Country he generally coveted, and 
 drank to the iaft Drop. All this went well, and Horn his 
 manner of Talking 'twas eafy to cbièrve the Wine began to 
 work. When I found him pretty near gone, I look a 
 large filk Twill 1 had prep.ir'd for that purpofc, and co- 
 ming behind him, tied his Leegs gently to the Chair he làt 
 upon. When Supper was ended, and the CloJi about to 
 be taken away, going to rife briskly after his accultom'd 
 manner, he tumbled, Chair and all, along upon the Floor, 
 but with that Force that the Blood guih s d out at his No- 
 itrils and Mouth, and 'twas thought he had broken his 
 ]aw-Bone and Gnitle of his Nole. This occafion'd lucH a 
 Laughter as you may imagine. I was one of the firft that 
 went to help him up, and untying the String nimbly, he 
 never came to know what had been the occifion of his Fall. 
 But the Jcit was in our Grimaces while we were lifting 
 him up, and the Zeal we every one of us lhew'd to afliit 
 him in this Exigency. One brought him Water to wain 
 his Mouth, another a Napkin to wipe away the Blood, a 
 third was ready with a Brulli to clean his Cloaths ; and, in 
 a word, every one was io forward to lerve him, as gave 
 fufheient Diverfion to the Company. For my Lord's Êart, 
 he was ready to burft with Laughter ; whilif, to lay truth, 
 our poor Frenchman was ready to cry. He w r as, indeed, in 
 a great Pet, but that was what we were glad of. At length 
 whisking out of the Room, without lb much as taking the 
 leait notice of the Ambauador, he never return'd any more, 
 which I luppole his Excellency was not lorry for. All our 
 Tricks did not iiiccecd alike. We had lometimes' to do 
 with Perlons that would make a ]eft of us, and turn all 
 
 our 
 
458 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 our Grimaces upon us, nay, would not budge whatever 
 we faid or did. I remember one above the reit that was a 
 Cordottan, and call'd himielf an Officer. He was a cunning 
 Ralcal, and carried his Impudence much higher than any I 
 ever knew before.Coming in one Day into the Ambaflador s 
 Houfe about Noon, when his Excellency was going to Din- 
 ner, he came up to him, and told him with a bold Air, 
 yet very civilly, that he was a Reform'd Officer, born in Cor- 
 doxa y and a good Gentleman, but having met with Misfor- 
 tunes, he was a little reducd, therefore beg'd his Excellency 
 would be pleas'd to let him tafte of his Favour. The Am- 
 baflador having heard his Harangue, and well knowing 
 what it meant, pul I'd a little Purfe out of his Pocket, 
 where there were about five or fix Pillóles, and being natu- 
 rally generous, gave it the pretended Officer without open- 
 ing it Having fo done, he thought to have got rid of 
 him, wherefore willing him all manner of Happineis, and 
 making him a fmall Inclination with his Head ? he turn'd 
 away to go and fit down at Table. But our Officer would 
 not quit him fo, for reckoning upon a good Dinner, he 
 was refolv'd not to let go the Occafion that prefented for 
 getting one. He follow'd his Excellency, and coming up 
 with him, began to give him an Account of his Birth, Life, 
 Prôwefs, and what not, till fuch time as he came to fit 
 down at Table. He took Place among the reír, and beco- 
 ming at length very dry with continual talking, he bec- 
 kon 'd to me" to give him ibme Wine, for 'twas I whole 
 Lot it was to wait on him. Seeing I did not flir for five 
 or fix Signs he made , and not knowing whether to afcribe 
 it to Ignorance or Impudence, he turn'd about haitily to 
 my Lord Ambafiador, and faid with a grave Air, I hope, 
 my Lord, you do not think I have taken too much Liberty 
 in placing my ielf fo freely at your Excellency's Table with- 
 out Invitation. I am a Gentleman, my Lord, and, as fuch, 
 believe my felf not unworthy of any Honour or Civility 
 may be done me by Perfons of your Excellency 's Birth and 
 Character. I am moreover, my Lord, proceeded he, a Sol- 
 dier, which is a Quality that would not difhonour even a 
 Prince, tho' I fhould dine with him. But above all this, 
 my Lord, continued he, it is meer Neceflity that puts me 
 upon this Recourie for a Dinner, and makes me tranlgrels 
 all flight Formalities, which at another time it may be 1 
 
 wight 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 45^ 
 
 might better obferve. I thought your Excellency s Table a 
 proper Place to remedy thefe Inconveniencies, and that an 
 Invitation was not necefl'ary to nwke a Man well receiv'd. 
 In fine, my Lord, added he, if it be the Cuftom in your 
 Excellency s Houíe to give one Drink to ones Meat, I beg 
 your Excellency woulc[ be plcas'd to order that I may have 
 a Glafs of Wine upon calling for it. My Lord AmbaiTador 
 not being able to forbear laughing at this fine Speech of this 
 pretended Officer, made Signs to me to give him what he 
 wanted. I obcy'd, and brought him Wine, but that fo lit- 
 tle, and in fo fmall a Glafs, that he mult needs fee I grudg'd. 
 jt him. I had no fooner receiv'd the Glals again, and let 
 it on the Side-Board, but I law two other Fellows enter, 
 whom I had lèen twice or thrice before , but who now 
 coming too late found their Places taken. I heard them as 
 I pafsd by mutter again it this fame Officer, whom they 
 look'd upon with an Air of Indignation and Contempt. I 
 drew nearer thro' Curiofity, and ask'd them, if they knew 
 that Gentleman they look'd fo earneftly at. Know him, 
 fays one, to be fure I do, if you call him a Gentleman, 
 that is but the Son of a Cobler, who lives near the Great 
 Church at Cordova, and who himfelf, while in his own 
 City, could never pretend to any higher Station than that 
 of a Tavern-Boy , tho' now I hear, forfooth, he fets up 
 for a Refonnd Officer. If I catch him out o'tlf Door?, 
 lays t'other, I'll teach him what it is to take Gentlemen's 
 Places, that are Men of Honour, and Servants to his Ma;e- 
 ity and my Lord AmbaiTador; which Saying, twirling 
 about their Whiskers, and fhaking their Cock's Feathers, 
 whereof they had each a Plume in their Caps, they took 
 the Paips to retire. I law plainly they were a couple of 
 Bullies, who had not much more Courage than the other. 
 I let them go a little way, and then ran after them, and 
 laid, Gentlemen, the Gentleman whom you have juft now 
 fo grofly abus'd, fiy?, he knows you, and you only are the 
 Scoundrels you repreient him to be ; and that if you will 
 be but pleas'd to wait for a Moment, he'll come and give 
 you what you deierve for treating a Man of his Quality af- 
 ter that rate. W T ith all our Hearts ; Let him come, let him 
 come, cn'd they both together, we'll wait for him till to 
 morrow Morning, but we'll lee what he pretends to. Then 
 I ran to him that iat at Table, and told him in his Ear, 
 
 but 
 
4¿o The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 but fo loud that every body might hear me, that there were 
 two Gentlemen below, that deiifd to Ipeak with him. Let 
 them ftay till 1 have din\i, aniwer'd he very gravely. They 
 fay they cannot ihy, replfd I, and that they muft needs 
 ipeak with you about a Matter of Coniequence. But they 
 muft ftay,repli 5 d he with the fame grave Air,for I fhan't fure 
 betray my want of Breeding fo much as to \t^t my Lord 
 Ambaflador in the midft of his Dinner for them. Well, 
 but they know you, added I, and fay you are but the Son 
 of a Cobler, and that you never had any better Employ- 
 ment than that of a Tavern-Boy. What, do they talk fo 
 irreverently of me, interrupted he, bluffing and rifing up 
 in a Paflion ? Yes, they do, replied I, and boaft moreover, 
 they will not budge from the Spot where they are till they 
 have drubbed you well to boot. Oh i this is not to be 
 born, cri'd he in a huge Fury ! if I bear this, I may bear 
 any thing ; fo trying at his Sword once or twice, to fee if 
 it would move, and turning often about, as if he knew 
 not what he did, he baufd out inceiïantly, Where are they, 
 where are they, let me come at them ! They are below in 
 the Court, repli'd I, waiting for you ; come, come, Sir, 
 revenge your Honour, and creat them as they deferve. Then 
 marching before him, he could not but follow me; and my 
 Lord Ambailador and the Company, almoft ready to burft 
 with Laughter, ran to the Windows that look'd into the 
 Court, to iee what would be the Catajlrophe of this Trage- 
 dy ; but they had not the Pleaiure they expected, tho' the 
 apparent Cowardice of thefe three Bravos was not much 
 ]els diverting. Coming down into the Court, I immedi- 
 ately cry 'd, See Gentlemen, here is this Son of a Cobler, 
 this Tavern-Boy -, confider what you have to fay to him. 
 We know where we are, repli'd they Trembling and Pale, 
 and owe too much Reí peel to my Lord AmbafTador and his 
 Majefty, to meddle with him here: Another Time and Place 
 will do as well. Seeing my Man did not anfwer a Word 
 to all this, I reium'd trie Diícouríe, and cri'd, Let not your 
 being within his Excellency s Houíe prevent your doin^ the 
 Gentleman Juftice, he ihall go out if you pleafe. With all 
 our Hearts, anfwer'd they, but however we ihall meet 
 with him fome time or other. Yes, yes, Gentlemen, re- 
 plied our bold Officer, you Ihall meet with me, and ib 
 ¡ball I with you j which Saying, he tunfd his Back and 
 
 went 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 461 
 
 went in again after a kind of triumphant Manner, as if he 
 had put his Enemies to flight. He return d into the Hall, 
 where the Ambafliidor and his Friends had taken their 
 Places again. They joy 'd him upon his Efcape io happily 
 out of the Hands of two iiich ralh Bullies. He play'd the 
 modcit Part, and only iaid, he belicv'd he had in his time 
 had to do with Peribns of as great Courage ; then finding 
 lie began to have occafion for more Winc,he would not itay 
 till I icrv'd him, which perhaps might be never, but very 
 refolutely went to the Side-Board, and having hi I'd. out a 
 large Glafs, iwallow'd it at three Gulps. This done, he 
 let down again to Table, for you muft remember he had 
 not din'd, and fell to as heartily as if he had not eat a Bit, 
 without taking notice of any body. When the Fruit came, 
 which he did not much care for, he ftarted up, and making; 
 a low Bow to the Ambaflador, told him he muit fave his 
 Excellency s Pages the trouble of giving him Wine, there- 
 fore immediately went to the Side-Board again, and filling 
 himfclf out a good coniciencious Glals, drank it oft' heartily ; 
 which done, he turnd about and bow'd profoundly again, 
 as it were to thank his Excellency , telling him he was now 
 going to look out for his Men , and that he fhould hear of 
 him again before the Day was over. So faying, he retird, 
 leaving the Company as much aftonillVd at his Impudence, 
 as they were lurpriz d at his Patience with me , and whole 
 Tricks he had found io many ways to elude. 
 
 My Lord Ambailador was pleasd to own, he had not been 
 fo well diverted for a long time ; and whilft the Company 
 was deicanting upon it, a Neapolitan Gentleman chancel to 
 enter the Room, who was an Acquaintance of my Lord's, 
 and who told his Excellency, there had happen d lately the 
 ltrangeft Adventure had been heard of for a long while 
 in Rome, and which every body went to enquire into. My 
 Lord having a great defire to know what it was, prefently 
 orderd the Gentleman a Chair, and defir'd him to tell the 
 Story, which he did as follows : 
 
 CHAP, 
 
4¿2 The Life and Aftions Part L 
 
 CHAP. XI. 
 
 The AMOUR of Count Palviano and Eleonora. 
 A NOVEL. 
 
 T Am fenfible, Sir, the Story I am abcnt to relate to your 
 ■* Excellency is told lèverai ways in this City ; but as no 
 Body knows it better than my lèlf, I hope I may be be*- 
 liev d preferably to the reft. I was both Eye and Ear-Wit- 
 nels of great part of it, and what I did neither lee nor 
 hear, I had from a Friend, who was put in Prilbn this 
 Morning for the lame Bufmeis, tho* he had no other Share 
 in it than being left by the principal Actor to give him an 
 Account how Things pais'd. I perceive, my Lord, added 
 he, your Excellency has Lei'ure, and therefore I imagine you 
 will not be dilplcas'd if 1 enter into luch Particulars as I 
 know to be true, and not tell the Story too concifely. The 
 Ambanador told him, he might relate it with what Latfc» 
 tude he pleas'd, nay delcend to the molt minute Circum- 
 ftances if he thought fit, for that he had Leifure lumcient 
 to hearken to him. 
 
 Then the Gentleman proceeded thus. I know not. my 
 Lord, pofitively, whether you know the Count Palviano 
 or not, yet can hardly think one lb confideiable both in 
 Church and State can be wholly unknown to you The 
 Ambaflador having latisfied him he knew him only by 
 Sight, the Gentleman went on, and faid, your Exaliencys 
 having only leen him, is iufficient to inform you he is one 
 of the fineft Gentlemen in all this Country. None exceed 
 him either for Beauty or good Qualities, and he was, no 
 doubt, made on purpofe'to charmât firlt Sight. I lhall 
 give your Exceikncy no long Character of him here, the 
 Sequel of his Story will abundantly acquaint you of his 
 Merit. He was born to be the Ornament of the World, 
 and of Rome in particular ; and you'l loon hear, how con- 
 cern'd every Body was that he was out of it. I cannot 
 omit telling you, by the by, he was a Cavalier of about 
 27 or 28 Years of Age, and had Riches lufncient to lupport 
 all thofe good Qualities he was Matter of, there being no 
 Lord throughout the whole Ecclefiaftical Dominions that 
 
 *\ had 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 4^3 
 
 had a better Eitate. Being fuch as I have told you, and 
 deiervedly citeem'd by both Sexes, he became the Envy of 
 every Body, and was thought the happieft of Men, when 
 it being decreed he ihould undergo a Jike Fate with other 
 People, he all of a i'udden chane'd to rail in love 
 with one of the fineft Ladies in the City of Rome. He 
 ow'd this Adventure to a certain Holyday, when he went to 
 hear a Conibrt of Mufick at the Alinerva, where a Gentle- 
 man, a Friend of his, refign'd a Place to him that was on 
 a Bench which the Ladies were oblig'd to pais by. The 
 Conibrt ended, the Count, who had not a mind to be trod 
 to pieces in the Crowd, refolv'd to ftay behind and divert 
 himfelf with feeing the Ladies pais by, among whom he 
 thought there might be iome of his Acquaintance. He law 
 a great many, but none that he fancied, lo that he was a- 
 bout to rile and be gone, when at length came one that 
 had a much better Air than the reír, occafion d not by her 
 Drcis, which was very magnificent, but by her itatcly 
 Gate, Mien and Modeity, which lait charm'd him molt, 
 and rais'd in him an Inclination to know who ihe was. 
 He thought at fuit the Care ihe took to conceal her felf un- 
 der her Veil, which was not cuftomary for Women to do 
 that were any thing handiome, was no great Argument of 
 her Beauty ; but he was quickly after undeceiv'd, when 
 by chance a Woman happening to pais rudely the contrary 
 way, tore off part of her Veil, which was towards the 
 Count, whereby he difcover'd the fineft Face he had ever 
 fcen. The Lady was a little out of Countenance, and en- 
 deavouring to recover her Veil, could not but caft her 
 Eyes upon the Count, who, looking upon her at the fame 
 time, receiv'd his Amorous Wound. She went on, and hit 
 the Cavalier in a kind of Extaiy, Handing as if he had 
 been Thundcv-ftruck -, but coming at length" to himielf, he 
 walk'd after her, yet ihe had got io much thrfftart of him, 
 that before he could overtake her, ihe was iAnixd with a 
 great number of Ladies that ftood at the Door, all with 
 Mack Veils over their Faces, that it was next to impoflibte 
 for him to diítinguiíh her. This troubled him exceedingly, 
 but having employ'd his Eyes confiderably in the Search of 
 lier, he at length faw a Lady entera Chaife, who as well 
 by her Shape and Cloaths, as by her Waiting- Woman, he 
 thought muft be the fame he had feen in the Church. 
 
 He 
 
464 ^be Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 He calfd one of his Footmen, and bid him follow that 
 fame Chaife, and tell him whither it went, and who was in 
 it. Having given theie Order?, lie went home very well 
 pleas'd that lie had at laft found her out, and that fhe could 
 not efcape him as ihc intended. As he went along he 
 could not but contemplate this charming Lady, who had 
 made fuch an Impreflion upon him, that he thought lie 
 could paint her naturally. He had never ièen any Face 
 with ib much Sweetnefs in it, nor with fuch beautiful and 
 regular Features. He had never be held a more lively or fairer 
 Complexion, more piercing or tender Eyes, a better ihap'd 
 Mouth, or, in a Word, any thing in io great Perfection, 
 which he fancied the whole World could not equal, or at 
 leaft exceed. The more he contemplated this Objecr, the 
 more he became paflionately in love. He was no looncr 
 got home, but he was impatient for the return of his Ser- 
 vant. Every Moment feem'd an Age till he came, and he 
 enquir'd inceiTantly if he was not come," or if any Body 
 had feen him. At length he returned, and inform'd his 
 Matter, the Lady he had ièen was Wife to the Colonel of 
 the Pope's Guards, and that if he had any mind to know 
 more of her, he had the foi reft Opportunity in the World 
 to fatisfy him, being acquainted with one of the Servants 
 of the Houfe, who would tell him any thing. The Count 
 was fo taken up with his Thoughts of this Lady, that he 
 did not think of giving any new Orders to his Servant 
 upon what he had proffer'd him. He had never feen this 
 Colonel's Ladv, but had heard much Talk of her Beauty. 
 He had underltood likewiiè fhe was exceeding proud, and 
 valued her felf much on her Virtue, or, at leaft, would 
 not have Love made to her, but according to the Rules in 
 Romances, which was, to admit of no Favours but fmall 
 ones, and which ferv'd rather to encreafe a Lover's Tnirfr, 
 than quench jt. A Gentleman, a Friend of his, had luffi- 
 ciently experi¿nc'd this, and who, after fome Months of 
 aiTiduous Attendance on her, was fain to retreat inglo- 
 rioufly. All thefe Reflections did not neverthelefs d il cou- 
 rage our Lover, they rather animated him to the Alla u It. 
 He knew there was no Woman infenfible, and that if the 
 Lover did not fucceed, it was more his Fault than his Mi- 
 ftrefs's. He faid, Women had two Foibles, that of loving 
 like Men, which they did foraetimes more readily and 
 
 more 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfaráche. 46$ 
 
 more violently, and that of defiring to be belov'd, or Teem- 
 ing to do lb, which was a fort of Vanity that none of them 
 could exempt themlelves from, and which infenfibly drew 
 them all in after one another. Our Gallant was no Novice 
 in thefe Miseries. He had known Women of all forts¿ 
 and fucceeded with many of them, nay hop'd not to be 
 lefs liiccefsful here. VVhilit he was entertaining himielf 
 with all thefe various and amorous Thoughts, the Hour ar- 
 rival that Lovers in this Country are wont to make their 
 PaiTions known to their Miitrciïes by Sighs and Geftures. 
 He refolv'd not to lofe a Moment, therefore mounting one 
 of his fined Steeds, and commanding all his Servants to at- 
 tend him in good order, lie rode to and fro in that Street 
 where his Footman liad told him his Miftrefs liv'd. The 
 firft time he came was to no purpolc, but the fécond was 
 more fuccefsful, for then he faw lomctliing fo bright at the 
 Window, that he had no room to doubt it was lhe, as 
 indeed it was. He had never fcen her plainly, and it was 
 impolliblc for him to guels, thro' the Grates, whether it 
 was the fame Lady had lo charind him in the Church ; ne- 
 Ycrthclcls he had a mind to believe it, and his Imagination 
 reprefented to him that it could be no other. One thing 
 however difturb'd him, which was, that that Lady having 
 been married five or fix Years, could not be lefs tnan four 
 or five and twenty, whereas this that he had feen in the 
 Church did not appear to him to be above feventeen or 
 eighteen, 'yet he knew there were lome Women that carried 
 their Years better than others ; and moreover his Heart 
 being not willing to be undeceived, he declined all further 
 Scrutiny, for fear of falling into lome Perplexity a thou land, 
 times more intricate than this Error of his could be. Sup- 
 pofing then it mull be his belov'd Lady that he law, ne 
 began by fome Signs to make a Declaration of his Love, 
 which is cuftomary in this Country, but in return, he had 
 no other Anfwer than to fee the Window let down. This 
 did not at ail furprizchim, for he had the Vanity to con- 
 clude from thence that the Lady underitood him, and ap- 
 prov'd of what he had done. So much he thought was 
 fufheient for one Day, that is, Loving, and making his 
 Love known to the Party belov'd. He return'd the next 
 Day, and the Lady dealt by him much as fhc liad done the 
 Day before \ but as lhe was no Novice in thelè fort oí 
 
 H h Miítenes, 
 
4¿¿ The Life and Aiïions Part I. 
 
 Mifteries, and had had Gallants before now, (he eafily un- 
 deritood from this lecond Vifit, that this was a Lover of a 
 new Date ; yet as flie had never had one that came up to 
 him in point of Reputation and Quality, it flatter'd her 
 Vanity, but ihe was neverthcleis reiolv'd to adhere ftriétly 
 to the Rules and Maxims fhe had formerly oblerv'd in re- 
 fpeét. to others. Pride, Diidain, Indifference, and even 
 Cruelty, muft be made uie of for this purpoie ; and this 
 Perlón, forfooth, muft fuffer more than any of his Predc- 
 ceflors had done. As for our Cavalier, who had been ac- 
 cuftom'd to thele forts of Proceeding, and knew that thofc 
 tliat pretended to be moft haughty, were not always the 
 moil infenfible, he kept on his Road, and continued for 
 fome Days his prancing about that Street, but every Day 
 with an Equipage more magnificent than ordinary. He 
 watch'd his Miftrefs when fhe came out to go to Church, 
 and would be iiire always to follow her, when he would 
 Languiih and Ogle like a true Lover. All Things of this 
 Nature fpeak in this Country, but having a mind to ex- 
 
 Elain his Paífion. farther, he wrote a Letter to her, and made 
 is Servant, who was already acquainted in the Family, 
 deliver it. But this was going a little too far, the Letter 
 was font back, and the Servant threatned, in cafe he under- 
 took fuch Ménages, to have his Bones broke. All this did 
 not difcourage our paiïîonate Admirer, his Love took but 
 the deeper Root for't, and he would needs make ufe of Pre- 
 fents, which lie knew to be the fhorteft way to deal with 
 the Ladies, but he did not iucceed for all that, his Prefents 
 were rcfus'd, and lent back in like manner with his Letters. 
 This vex'd the Count very much, for now he faw plainly his 
 Miftrefs began to conceal her lelf from him, and retired 
 from the "Window as loon as ihe obferv'd him coming into 
 the Street. She likewife chang'd her Church every Day, 
 and fo difguisd her lelf, that his Servants did not know 
 her, and confequently could not follow her as formerly. 
 All this ihe did the better to prove his Love and Conftancy, 
 and, out of a Vanity Ihe had, to difquiether Lovers, and 
 make them wait upon her as much as fhe could. Our 
 Count became every Day more amorous, and fought all 
 ways to carry his Point, tho' he faw a great deal of Diffi- 
 culty in doing it. He by chance heard of a Lady who had 
 been formerly of his Acquaintance, and who, being his 
 
 MifirefsV 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 467 
 
 Miftrcfs's Relation, faw her every Day. He thought fhe 
 muft needs be fcrv r iceable to him. She was one a little 
 upon the Decay, but who had been formerly a Lady in 
 Eftcem, and valued for her Beauty and good Qualities. He 
 refblv'd to renew his Acquaintance with her, and for that 
 purpole going to wait on her, made her acquainted with 
 his Amour. The L.idy, who defir'd nothing more than to 
 be ferviceable to fo generous a Gentleman as ne was, and to 
 be concernai in a Love-Intrigue, where the Intriguing Per- 
 lón has ever the greatcft Share of the Pleafure, did not 
 much fcruple engaging in his Intereif, tho' at the Expence 
 ot her Relations Honour. She promis'd Wonders, and be- 
 ing willing to lofe no Time, immediately went to vifit her 
 Cou fin. She forthwith put her upon talking of Love and 
 Lovers, the ordinary Convcrlation between Women, and 
 found no great Difficulty to bring the Count into the Dif- 
 courfc ; but Celind.t, fo was the Ladies Name, gave no 
 Ear to what fhe laid This difp leafing our Confidente, 
 flic began to reproach her Kinlwoman with Infenfibility, 
 telling her fhe knew the whole Bufmefs, and that the Gen- 
 tleman had come himfelf to acquaint her with it. She then 
 let forth the Merit of this Lover, his Dilcretion, his good 
 Humour, his Gcnerofity, and, in a Word, all the reft of his 
 good Qualities, which (he did not fail to give the belt Glofs 
 to. Celinda perceiving her Coièn well inform'd of the Mat- 
 ter, and finding fhe' could no longer difguife her Senti- 
 ments, acknowledged fhe had been for fome time convine'd 
 of the Count's Inclinations, and agreed with her that he was 
 a very aimable Pcrfon, but faid, that finding no Emotion 
 in her fclf towards him, fhe could not think fhe was cul- 
 
 Î)able for not loving him, nor giving him any Tokens of 
 1er Affeétion. Moreover, fhe laid íne liv'd in a perfect 
 good Understanding with her Husband, who was very 
 kind to her ; and therefore, if ihe might defire any Favour 
 from the Count, it fhould be, that he would dilturb the 
 Repofe of her and her Family no further, but employ his 
 Courtlliip elfewhcre, where he might poifibly be well re- 
 ceiv'd, for as for her part, lhe was refolv'd to hearken to 
 no Addtefles of that Nature. Her Coufm having heard her 
 with a great deal of Attention, would not for the prelent 
 pufh the Matter any farther, but contented her lelf with 
 having broke the Ice, and refer'd to another Opportunity 
 
 H h 2 to 
 
4¿8 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 to difcourfe more largely about it, to the end, that gaining 
 Ground by little and little, ihc might at length De capa- 
 ble of ma Icing greater Efforts. She therefore took leave of 
 her ; and the Count, like an impatient Lover, coming the 
 iàmc Night to know the Succcfs of her CommiíTion, ihe 
 gave him a better Account than the Tiling would bear, that 
 tie might not deipair, telling him he need only continue 
 his Amour to iucceed in it. He made ufe of her to make 
 ievcral agreeable Prefents to this coy Miitrefs of his, and 
 which ihe could not rcfufe to accept from a Relation. 
 They were generally Fruits and Flowers that he lent her 
 every Day, and luch as were always the beft in their Kind, 
 and the moft in Seafon. Celinda knew well whence all 
 thefe Civilities came, tho' her Cou fin pretended to the 
 Honour of them ; but as they were only Fruit and Flowers, 
 which fhe lov'd very well, fhe did not trouble her felt" 
 much about them. The Confidente continued her Vifits, 
 and made her daily Prefents, which were ibmetimes accom- 
 panied with Things of greater Confcquence, which had 
 that ErTeót, thro 3 good Management, that fhe was every Day 
 better and better receiv'd. The Mind of this coy Lady be- 
 gan to be more and more ioftned in refpect. to the Count, 
 who would not fail to pais now and then by his Miftreis's 
 Door while the two Ladies were together. So great Pains 
 and Aifiduity being not likely always to prove Fruitlef?, 
 efpecially with a Lady that was thoroughly convine'd Ihe 
 was belov'd, they at length made fo confiderable a Breach 
 in Celinda s Heart, that lhc was prevail'd upon to fee the 
 Count once, that if ihe could not approve the Addrefles of 
 ib compleat a Cavalier, ihe might at leaft make uiè of 
 that Opportunity to difmiis his Pretentions. It was with 
 no fina 11 difficulty that Celinda confented to this Interview • 
 but as it was to get rid of a Lover that io endanger d her 
 Repoiè and Reputation, ihe at length gave way to it. The 
 only Difficulty was to pitch upon a proper Place for this 
 Meeting, that might give no occafion of Jealoufy to her 
 Husband, nor of Slander to any Body elfe. The Place was 
 foon found, it having already been agreed upon between 
 the Confidente and the Count. The Confidente propofed to her 
 then, to come one Night and iup in a Garden ihe had in the 
 Neighbourhood of Rome, where her Husband had been 
 more than once, and where, by means of a Back-Door that 
 
 opend 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 469 
 
 °pend into Cardinal RafacWs Garden, ihe might eafily have 
 a n Interview with the Count, who had all manner of Liber- 
 ty in the Cardinal's Houfe, being his Relation. Celindd 
 Jik'd this Propofal very well, and they both had no great 
 difficulty to make their Husbands content to it, who often 
 met and amus'd themfelves with lome Game or other. The 
 Count, who was foon advertifed ôf the Ladies Confent, got 
 himielf ready upon the Day of Rendezvous, and did not 
 fail to be there at the Hour appointed, which was fix at 
 Night. The Ladies no fooner law their Husbands engag'd 
 at Play, which was cuiiomary with them to be, but they 
 found Means to ileal away from them to go and prepare 
 for their defign'd Walk. Celinda acquainted her Coufin Ine 
 intended to "go veil'd, as well for Decencies-lake, as that 
 fhe was refolved not to converfe bare-fae'd with the Count, 
 and dcfir'd her to do the like. Her Coufin told her, that 
 would be a little too unkind towards a Lover that had al- 
 ways diicovcr'd fo much Tendernefs and Paflion for her, 
 and to whom llie had ever ihcw'd fo little Complaiíknce. 
 She anfwer'd, fhe had not confented to this Meeting out of 
 any Dcfígn to continue the Amour, but rather to break it 
 oft, and would not have the Count think ihe met him to 
 augment his Paflion, but rather to reject and annul it. 
 Tiie Confidente would not difpute with her any farther upon 
 this Head, being thoroughly perfwaded that the Count would 
 be able to play his Part with her when they iliould meet. 
 Moreover, ihe had obferv'd her Coufin had taken more 
 Pains that Day to drcls her felf, continuing above an Hour 
 at her Glais, which Ine imagin'd, withReafon enough, 
 was not defign'd to be hid under a Veil. The Ladies 
 now let fortli out of the Houfe without any Noile or 
 Attendance ; and having taken two or three Turns in the 
 appointed Garden, they enter'd into a thick Arbour belong- 
 ing to the Cardinal, which led to a Pleafure-Houfe where 
 the Count was to meet them. As they were walking along, 
 they entertain'd themfelves with talking of this Lover, 
 when all of a Hidden Celinda began to feel fuch an Agita- 
 tion of Heart, that lne could not forbear telling her Coufin 
 of it ; who, neverthelels, had already obfeiv d it by her 
 faltering in her Speech when ihe ipoKe to her. This made 
 them both laugh. They enter'd into the firtt Room, where 
 ¿icy late themfelves down on a Camomil-Bank, which Ce- 
 
 H h 3 linda 
 
47^ The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 inda had more than ordinary occafion for, being hardly 
 able to itand. They began to fear the Lover would make 
 them wait for him, but he was already in another Room, 
 and no iboner iaAv them enter but he came to them, with 
 a Heart much heavier than Celinda\ becaufe he was more 
 in love. They ibon percciv'd him coming, when the fair 
 Miftaefs's Diforder began to renew. He was fo well drefs'd, 
 that nothing could be ever like him. He began with a 
 feeble and unaflurM Accent, like a fearful, but paiTionate 
 Lover, to pay his Refpccts to his Miniéis ; who having had 
 time to recover her felf under lier Veil, which was a great 
 Advantage to her, fhe hearken d with a great deal of Plca- 
 fure to all he laid to her ; but, without making any An- 
 fwer to what related to his Love, fhe told him, flic did 
 not know whether ilie ought to think her felf oblig'd to 
 him for the Paffion he exprefs'd for her, but iure fhe was, 
 ihe had done him too great a Favour upon fo fmall an Ac- 
 quaintance as was between them, yet confidering the Ne- 
 ceiTity fhe was under to diifwade him from his Pretentions, 
 fhe thought lhe was not fo blameable for affording that In- 
 terview : That fhe knew as well as any Woman m Rome 
 what was due to his Merit, and how great Eiteem he was 
 in ; but fhe likewiiè knew, and that much better, what 
 Confideration fhe ow'd her iclf and her Husband, who 
 lov'd her tenderly, and with whom fhe had a great deal ojE 
 Reafon to be well fatisfied : That in regard ihe was relblv'd 
 to be wanting neither to one nor t'other, fhe believ'd ihe 
 dealt kindly by him in advifing him to ceafe his Purluit, 
 which would be of no Service to him, but rather tend to 
 the Lofs of her Reputation, and the Diiturbance of her 
 Family, which was what fhe molt fear'd: That ilie thought 
 him too much a Man of Honour, and an honeft Man ; and 
 befides, believ'd he had a greater Refpeót for the Ladies, 
 than to prejudice one whom he had profefsd fo great an 
 Eiteem for : And moreover, after fhe had been io tree as 
 to difcover her Apprehcnfions and Uneafmeis on his Ac- 
 count, ilie hop'd he would confidcr her at Jeaii and forego, 
 his Pretentions whatever Trouble it might colt him. The 
 Count fetched a deep Sigh, and after having recover'd his 
 Spirits a little, anfwer'd' with all the Tendernefs and Sub- 
 miiTion a true Lover was capable of At length, after a 
 very moving Dialogue of two Hours continuance; which 
 
 the 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 471 
 
 the Confidente would lbmc times interrupt, the Count definí 
 his Miitrefs to permit him to love and lerve her, xho it 
 inould be for ever without Succels, and Celinda, not having 
 it in her Power to hinder him, was fain to content to it ; 
 but (he neverthelefs requir'd of him that he would do fo 
 without Shew, and with the moft Diicrction he could, 
 and moreover beg'd of him, that he would not pals 
 ib frequently thro' her Street, chufing rather to give him 
 leave to write to her fomctimes, as his Requeit was, pro- 
 viding his Letters contain'd nothing but what was modeft 
 and civil, and that he gave them open'd to her Coufin, 
 that fhe might read them before (he gave them to her. The 
 County who thought he had obtain' d Favour enough for one 
 Day, efpccially from luch a Lady as this was, could hardly 
 find Words to exprefs his Acknowledgment ; and Matters 
 feeing thus regulated, Celinda began to talk of retiring. 
 The Count feeing her about to be gone, altogether transpor- 
 ted with Paflion, fell on his Knees, and beg'd of her to 
 ítay fome few Moments longer, and that, before Ihe retir'd, 
 die would at lea it be lb good as to let him lee her Face. 
 This Requeit being likewiie iceonded by the Confidente Relinda, 
 after having fuffer'd her iclf to be courted a long time, 
 and threatning to leave the Count the Moment after he had 
 leen her, (he held her Veil fo (lightly, that her Coufin had 
 Opportunity to lift it up, whereby (he difcover'd the fineft 
 Face that ever had been leen, and which, being aililtcd by a 
 imall Blulh, became yet more charming. The Lover if i 11 
 remaining upon his Knees, appear'd fo confounded and 
 aítoniúVd at this Sight, that he was a long while without 
 ipeaking, which Celinda perceiving, lire prefently imagin'd 
 it was her Beauty had made him fo filent ; wherefore, thro' 
 a gaiety of Temper that proceeded from the Pleaiiirc (he 
 conceiv'd on this Occafion, ihe began to utter a thoulknd 
 witty and agreeable Things, the moft charming in the 
 World. All this while the Count laid nothing, feeming to 
 mufe upon lbmewhat that affected him exceedingly. The 
 Lady went on and addrefs'd her lèlf to her Coufin, who, 
 having likewife a great deal of Wit, aniwer'd for the poor 
 aitoniihM Lover. This gave time to the Count to come a 
 little to himfelf, who itarting up, like one that had been 
 awak'd out of a pleafmg Dream, began to make his utmott 
 Effort in Apologizing, for the imall Attention he had given 
 
 H h 4 to 
 
47? The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 to what the Lady was pleas'd to fay ; and afluming a more 
 free Air than he had hitherto done, ihcw'd what he could 
 both do and fay when he was Mailer of himielf. In the 
 mean time, Glinda, who detcrmin'd to be gone as loon as 
 the Count had fcen her, was now altogether of another 
 Mind, being the firit that mention d fitting, without being 
 entreated, when the Converfation began to run fo high up- 
 on pleafant Matters, that Love was loon fore'd to give 
 place to Mirth. The County whole languifhing Eyes had 
 been greatly enliven'd by the Sight of this fair Lady, be- 
 came quite another Man, and iupportcd the Converfation, 
 more like a Gallant than a Lover. But the Time of 
 breaking up being at lait come, Celinda talk'd once more 
 of retiring, but her Coufin itay'd her, well knowing 
 nothing required her to be gone. As for the Count, 
 who from time to time return d to his Love-Fits, he did 
 not 'here ad the Part of a tender and affectionate Lo- 
 ver; for whether it were that his Mind was continually 
 taken up with Thoughts, or that he had a mind to 
 retire himfelf, he did not in die leaft lhew any further 
 Willingnefs to have his Miftrefs ftay. Celinda oblerv'd 
 it with fome Surprife, and even Concern, infomuch that 
 lhe loon after rife up to be gone in earneft, and he with- 
 out any remorfe did the like. The Confidente obferving 
 ib miferablc a Conduct, and which favour'd nothing of 
 the Paííion he pretended, took the Liberty to remember him 
 of it. He then began to fall again into his PaiTionate Airs, 
 but to little purpoiè, having to do with fo ingenuous a 
 Lady as Celinda was, who being thoroughly angry, did not 
 í by for her Coufin, but contenting her lelf with telling 
 her Lover, fhe knew very well lhe had done more than ihe 
 ought to do, but if he was any ways pleas'd with it, he 
 ow'd the Obligation to her Coufin, lhe retir'd. Her Cou- 
 fin immediately followed ; and they were hardly got to the 
 Garden Back Door before Celinda could not help looking 
 about to lee if her Lover follow'd her, or at leaft lookd 
 after her ; but lhe could not dilcover the leaft blink of 
 him, which renderd her yet more incens'd than fhe was 
 before, tho' Ine fhew'd nothing to her Coufin but the ut- 
 moft Indifference. The Count was likewiiè no Jels con- 
 cerned at his being the Bubble both of Love and Fortune ; 
 for ip was not the Lady's Beautv lie Jpok'd after, and was 
 
 ib 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 473 
 
 fo paiTionately enamour'd of. Cclinda was in truth a fine 
 Woman, fhe had exceeding regular Features, an excellent 
 Shape, a pood Air, and inch other Agreements both of 
 Body and Mind that are not common ; but it was not the 
 íweetneís of her Countenance, her languishing Eyes, a 
 Complexion fo equally made up of Lillies and Rofes, a 
 youthful Air, and above all, a iecret Charm, in which his 
 Eyes as well as Heart could be deceiv'd. He was rather 
 ready to run mad that he had lb foofd away his Time, and 
 Í pent Two Months in purfuit of a Woman that he now 
 thought dcleiv'd fo little of him. He laid all the Caufe 
 of his Misfortune upon her, and judg'd her altogether un- 
 worthy of the Pains he had taken. In a word, he now 
 began to hate her more than before he had lov'd her, and 
 thought he could not do her greater Juftice than entirely to 
 forget her. But whilft he was thus difingaging himfelf ou 
 one fide, his Heart began to enflame more and more on the 
 Other, which ncvcrthelels might have been fupportable, 
 had he known wlure to find l'uch another Beauty as this 
 was, for her he was rcfolv'd to have no more to do with. 
 This Thought altogether demounted him, and made him 
 to wiüh heartily he had never feen Glinda, but always 
 lov'd lier without having the fight of her. But this 
 Thought was foon forcM to give way to a thoufand others 
 more tormenting, and more conformable to his Paiîîon. 
 He plainly iaw he could not live without her, but muit 
 
 ÍoíTcls her, or die with Grief. His Malady encreas'd every 
 )ay, thro' the Difficulties he met with in bringing his End^ 
 about. He was no longer Count Palvuno, nor frequented 
 thole Places or Companies where he was us'd to come. 
 He avoided even his Friends, that he might the better enjoy 
 his melancholy Humour. He fpent his life altogether ia 
 Hunting, which he would employ himielf in from Morn- 
 ing 'till Night, and never return home but when it was 
 dark, and when lie Should be lure to fee no Body. This 
 furniSYd Diícourfe for the whole City, who could not 
 imagine what Caufe to attribute this Alteration to. Ce- 
 linda, who, notwithstanding her haughty Carriage, now 
 began to be more concern'd at what related to the Count 
 than She defiYd, being one of the firit that was inform'd 
 of the Change in his Courfe of Life, became greatly aik>- 
 nilh'dat it, 'as was likçwife her Coufin, infomuch, that 
 
 they 
 
474 'T1 ,e Life a?id Anions Part I. 
 
 they feldom difcours'd of any thing, clfc. But what 
 iurpris'd Celind.t mofl was, That after io many PiofeiTions 
 of Love and Sincerity, he ihould all of a fudden ceafe his 
 Tranfports, grow indifferent, and not make ule in the leaft 
 of that Liberty me gave him of writing to lier. She had 
 obferv'd a little before flic left him, that his Pa ilion did not 
 ièem fo lively or animated as in the beginning of this In- 
 terview; but lhe could not for her Life imagine how, be- 
 ing fo tranfportcd as he was at the fir it fight of her only 
 in the Church, he ihould take fuch a Diiguft to her upon 
 feeing her again, efpecially fince her Coufin had fo often 
 told him ihe never knew her more Beautiful. Moreover, 
 ihe reckon'd ihe had play'd her Part in the late Converfa- 
 tion, and that even he, as fine a Gentleman as he w r as, had 
 not in the leaft had any Advantage of her in Difcourfe. 
 In truth, this Carriage of his exceeded her Imagination ; 
 and altho' lhe would not let her Coufin know any thing 
 of the Trouble ihe was under, becaule of her haughty De- 
 meanour, yet lhe w r ould willingly have been iatished what 
 occafion'd this unaccountable Conduct in the Count. . Her 
 Coufin knew not what to think any more than lhe ; but 
 as ihe was altogether on the fide of Pleafure, ihe told Ce- 
 linda, fince ihe had made no more Advances than became 
 her, ihe would do well to wait till his Mind ihould be 
 chang'd, and he come and pay his Devoirs as formerly. 
 This Advice would have been reliih'd well enough by one 
 ■whofe Heart was at Eafe, and who had not felt a Pleafure 
 and Vanity in believing her lelf belov d by fuch a Man as 
 the Count was ; but that of Cel\nL\ was in another Con- 
 dition, it had made a greater Progrcis than the Confidente 
 thought for, and the Impctuofity of her Humour, as well 
 as die Sentiments of her Mind, did not much incline to 
 Moderation ; but lhe had neverthclels Diicretion iumaent 
 to diflemble her Frailties for forae time: However, at 
 length hearing no News of her Lover, feeing him no 
 where, and not having fo much as a Vifit from the Con- 
 fidente, her Relation, ihe could hold no longer, but muft 
 needs go and unload her Breaft with her laid Kinfwoman, 
 ihe being the only Perlón ihe car'd to break her Mind to, 
 and who was beft able to comfort her. This neverthclels 
 ihe did not do without abundance of Tears that fell from 
 her unawares, but which lhe made her believe were not on 
 
 the 
 
Book III of Guzman d'Alfarache. 475 
 
 the Account of her Lover, but for Joy to fee her. The 
 Confidente, who over and above the Obligations ihe had to 
 fupporr this Affair, which ihe had fiiit let on foot, ieem'd 
 very much afflicted at Celindas Grief, thro' a tender Friend- 
 l"hip ihe had always had for her. She told her, Ihe could 
 not well dive into the Caulc of this io fudden Change in 
 the Count ; but if Ihe were to guets at it, ihe lhouid be 
 apt to attribute it to the many CoyneiTes and HaughtinelTes 
 lhc had Ihew'd to that Gentleman, who was not accuitom'd 
 to fuch Repulfcs ; and who, it ihe would but afford him 
 the leaft Glimpfe of Hope, would not fail to return to her 
 as eager and amorous as ever, it being eafie to perceive, 
 by the Life he led, that his Inconftancy was not owing to 
 any other Womans Charms, but to downright Delpair" on 
 account of hers. Glinda figh'd, and was very glad to 
 hear her Coufin talk after that rate, yet could not be of 
 the lame Opinion, having a quite contrary Notion of her 
 Lover : However, Ihe faid nothing of that ; neverthelei?, 
 after a great many Arguments and Reflexions on both fides, 
 they muft come to a Reiblution what was belt, to be done. 
 Her Kinfwoman thought nothing more proper than for lier 
 to fpeak to the Count, that Ihe might know of him what 
 had oblig'd him all of a fudden to forbear his Vifits, and 
 whether his leading that fort of Life was owing to Incon- 
 llancy or Defpair. Celindd lik'd this Expedient very well • 
 Ihe only recommended to her Coufin to manage Matters lb, 
 that he might not guefs any Thing came from her, or that 
 (he had any Diiturbance on his Account. This being re- 
 iolv'd on, our enamour'd Lady began to be a little eafie, 
 being exceedingly well fatisfy'd that io skilful a Woman as 
 her Coufin was difpos'd to intermeddle in this Affair. 
 
 ?This fubtlc Lady, who. had as much Regard to her own 
 nterelt as the Fricndihip flic profeis'd for her Relation, un- 
 derftanding the Count was rarely to be icen but a Mornings, 
 fent her Lackey next Morning betimes, to let him know 
 ihe had a great defire Jo ipeak with him. The Count imme- 
 diately gueis'd what it was for ; and not being willing 
 cither to be catechiz'd or rcproach'd, made as handibme 
 an Excui'c as he could, fending her Word he was ;"ull then 
 getting on Horfeback to go for the Country, and which he 
 did ibon after. As he rode along the Streets, he could not 
 but ruminate on this MeiTage from the Confidente, which he 
 
 did 
 
47¿ The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 did not doubt the haughty Celinda had a Shave in. The 
 Remembrance of that Lady gave him ibme Difturbance, 
 when lifting up his Eyes, and fishing to evaporate part of 
 his PaiTion, he chane'd to caft his Eyes towards a certain 
 Window, which being half open, he faw a Face where- 
 with his Heart was as foon itruck as his Eyes. The Fea- 
 tures fo refembled thoie that had already fill'd his Mind, 
 that he could not but fancy they were the fame. Altogether 
 tranfported with Love and ]oy, and fixing his Eyes on the 
 fame Window, tho' his Horfe went on his ordinary Pace, 
 he could plainly perceive the Party continu'd to look at 
 him ; which caufing him to make as if fomething were a- 
 mifs about his Bridle, to give him Occafion to flop, he 
 look'd back, and bid one of his Servants foftly take notice 
 of that Houfe : But at length, obferving the Window to 
 be let down, he purfu'd his journey, leaving his Valet to 
 learn what he could of thofe People, and bring him Word 
 forthwith. He could no longer think of Hunting after 
 this ; but arriving at his Houle, went to walk in his Gar- 
 den, entertaining himielf with the Thoughts of that Day's 
 Happinefs, not being able to account for the Whimficalnefs 
 of his Fortune, which made him to meet with an Adven- 
 ture in a Street he pafs'd thro' every Day,that he had fought 
 for all over Rome with infinite Difquiet. He waited for 
 his Servant with great Impatience, that he might have a full 
 Account of the Matter. He faw him coming loon after, 
 but trembled for fear he fhould tell him fomething that 
 would deftioy ail his Happincls : He however learn 'd no- 
 thing but what confirm'd him in the Thought, that this was 
 what he look'd after. The Valet began with telling his 
 Mailer, that there were in this Houic a young Lady, and an 
 old Woman that waited on her ; that this Lady pafs'd 
 throughout all the Neighbourhood for one of the greatelt. 
 Beauties in Rome-, that fhe was about 17 or 18 Years of 
 Age • and that the went every Day to pay her Devotions at 
 the Minerva. He moreover inform 5 d him,ihe had only a Fa- 
 ther and Brother ; that they were Perlons of good Faihion, 
 but of flender Fortunes ; that, in refpeét to Honour and 
 Probity, there were no People in Rome of greater Repu- 
 tation ; that the Daughter had had a great Number of Ad- 
 drefles made to her, but that lhe pais'd for one that waa 
 no lefs Virtuous than Beautiful j and that (he never went 
 
 to 
 
Book III. of Guzman cTAlfarache. 477 
 
 to Church, or any -where elfe, without her Father or 
 Brother. The Count hearken'd to all this with a great deal 
 of Attention and Pleafure, tho' he law fo many difficulties 
 to be iiirmounted, that he knew not how to bring his Ends 
 about. All his Comfort was, he knew -where to find this 
 Object of his Willies, and was impatient till the Time came 
 for his returning to the City, that he might lèe his Lady 
 once more before he ilept. He began then to look upon his 
 Cloaths, and found himfelf a little in Difabille : He em- 
 ploy 'd lome time to put them in order, as well as the Place 
 would permit ; and then caufing one of his fineft Horfes 
 to befaddled, he mounted, and return'd towards the City, 
 taking his Road, as uiiial, thro' the fame Street we have 
 been lpcaking of. He no fooner came within fight of the 
 young Lady's Houie, but he bufied his Eyes to lome pur- 
 pofe ; and when he arriv'd within ken, he faw what he ib 
 much defir'd, as if {he had waited for his Return. His Joy 
 redoubled upon this Occafion ; for he now faw plainer 
 than before, that this was an Object worthy of his Defires. 
 He would needs make ufe of his Time, and therefore im- 
 mediately fell to making Signs, to give her to underftand 
 what Pains he felt : But lne, tho' fhe was not altogether ig- 
 norant of that Language,took little notice of it,and fancy d 
 it rather Raillery and Gallantry than true Love, cfpecially 
 in fuch a one as the Count ; lo that without troubling her 
 fclf any more about it, or making any the leaft Return, flic 
 let the Window remain open, and continued to fee him 
 pafs by. The Count contenting himfelf with this, as fear- 
 ing he might carry the Matter too far. purfu'd his way 
 home, and took no farther Notice for mat time. But he 
 was lo entirely fatisfy'd with his good Fortune, and fo fill'd 
 with the charming Idea's of his beautiful Miitrels, that he 
 was no fooner alighted but he fell to very ièrious Reflections 
 upon his paît Happinefs. The Remainder of the Day he 
 lnent in that manner, and when Night came, he did no- 
 thing but dream of what had ib charind him the Day be- 
 fore." Upon his awaking next Morning, a new Pleafure 
 accofted him ; for he coniider'd it was a Day of Devotion, 
 when he did not doubt but to fee his Miftrcisat the Church 
 where he had leen her before. This made him drcis him- 
 .felf the moil magnificently he was able, well knowing 
 Women were caught that way as foon as any. Whilft lie 
 
 was 
 
47 8 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 was thus rigging out, a Billet was brought him from Vero- 
 nica, fo was the Confidente^ Name; who having a great 
 deal of Wit, tho' none of the moft ferious, wrote to him 
 as llie would have done to her Ghoftly Father, begging of 
 him to give her Leave, as fhe had a Mind, to quit the 
 World as he had done, to put her Conicience into his 
 Hands, as one that was a Holy Perfon that liv'd only in 
 the Deferts. She told him, (he had a great many Scruples 
 to communicate to him, which ihe wanted his Advice up- 
 on, but that ihe could not acquaint him with them but in 
 a particular Conference : That being ib Zealous, as Hie be- 
 liev'd him to be for the Converfion of Sinners, lhe hop'd 
 he would be fo good as to make her a Vifit, or at lea ft per- 
 mit her to come "and wait upon him : That ihe found ilie 
 was ftill a Woman, but thought ihe had no Temptation to 
 fear with fuch a iolitary Hermit as he was. In. a word, 
 fhe rallied him with many other Expreflions of the like 
 Nature, which finding the Count in a good Humour, on 
 account of his late good Fortune, he immedirtely detcr- 
 min d to go and fatisfle her Requeft. In the mean time, 
 he return'd her an Anfwer much after the Nature of her 
 Bilkt y promifing, on the Word 'of a Confcflbr, he would 
 not fail to come and fatisfle her in her Scruples, and afliit 
 her to his Power in whatever elfe llie defir'd ; but for the 
 prcient he had a little earneft Bufmefs, and which nearly 
 concern'd him. He muft go fee the fair Eleonora, for that 
 was the beautiful Lady's Name that he ador'd. He had 
 fent People to enquire when ihe went abroad, and when 
 ihe went to Mafs ; and having underftood ihe was to go 
 that very Night to the Minerva to Vefycrs, he went thither 
 and faw her, but had no Opportunity to fpeak to her. 
 He knew her fine Shape again, her graceful Air, and^her 
 noble Look. He gaz'd along time upon her, but that was 
 all he could do. He was however very well fatisfy'd, and 
 thought Fortune had fumciently befriended him the Day 
 before, to make Amends for his Difappointment now. After 
 Mafsj he went according to his Promife to Madam Fero- 
 tiicas. She no longer found him that cold and indifferent 
 Perfon he was when ihe faw him la ft, but a Man of Vi- 
 gour and Heat. He paid her off with Civility and good 
 Words, and even fuch as llie had never recciv a from him 
 before. He forgot not Celinda, but immediately ask'd how 
 
 ihe 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 47^ 
 
 fiie did, and difcover'd fome Impatience to fee her» agian 
 infomuch that the Confidente could not, as (lie intended, re- 
 
 {)roach him with his Unkindnels in not coming to vifit 
 1er as he was wont, nor writing to her as he had pro- 
 mis'd to do, fince he made io great Atonement for that, 
 and fo perfectly acquitted himlelf of his Duty as a Lover. 
 He ivas fo magnificently let out with fine Cloaths, that he 
 even charrn d her, and lhe could never think fhe had look'd 
 on him long enough. She thought he had done all this on 
 Account of his Love for Cdmd.i ; and becaufe he did not 
 know but he might ice her that Day at her Lodgings, not 
 being able to imagine he liad any other Engagement, or 
 that any other Lady had the Iealt Share in his Affections. 
 This they thought they were lure of, becaule they had 
 caus'd him to be watch'd and obferv'd, and could never 
 yet difcover any thing tending that way ; therefore believe! 
 with Rcafon enough, that Qlinda had the ible Honour of 
 his PalTîon. At IznQhJVeronicajfozt fhe had had a great deal 
 of Pleaiurc in hearing and looking upon him, began, ac- 
 cording to her Inductions from her Coufin, to found him 
 in relation to his eftranging himfelf fo long from them. 
 The Count, who was already prepar'd for fuch an Attack, 
 told Veronica, he had for a long time had fo great an Eitcem 
 for Celindas Virtue, that knowing no other way to fecure 
 it, he had prevail a with his Heart to give him Leave to 
 abfent himlelf for fome time from her, and go feek a Re- 
 treat where he might contemplate her Perfeótions with 
 greater Innocency : That altho' this had coft him very dear, 
 yet he did not doubt but in time to bring his Defigns a- 
 bout, that he might for the future be in "a Condition to 
 expole himlelf to the Charms of that bright Lady, with- 
 out fear of pairing the Bounds of an innocent and unex- 
 ceptionable Friendfhip, which he was refolv'd to maintain 
 always with lier : That he was now come to Vifit her on 
 that Account, and therefore" defir'd her to aflure her Dear 
 Coufin of as much, that fhe might enjoy her Mind alto- 
 gether at quiet. G7/W.?, who in Concert with Veronica, 
 had heard all this from a Clofet where Hie was hid, thought 
 this Rcaloning of the Count's fo cold and indifferent, that 
 (he knew not what to think of it. She fancy 'd there was 
 more Art in it than Love commonly infpires his Valíais 
 with, and it is not thus, laid fhe to her felf, that true 
 
 Lover $ 
 
480 Tfe Life and Aft ions Tárt L 
 
 Covers are wont to pet rid of their Chains when they have 
 once had them put on. In a Word, fhe was not at all 
 fatisfy'd. Women who, like her, love father thro" Olten- 
 tation and Glory than Inclination and Affection, arc ever 
 liibject to furious Refentments; but thefe Refentments 
 that naturally cure tender Souls, do but fire thofè the more 
 that are haughty and proud. This Lady would not wil- 
 lingly be baffled by the Count's Love, who had agreeably 
 flatter'd her Vanity, and her Remiflhcfs giving way to her 
 Pride that furioufly fharpen'd her Amorous Diipofition. 
 This daily encreas'd, as you have already heard, and at 
 length became a moit violent PalTion. But what lav'd her 
 from a greater Vexation, which fhe muft needs have had 
 to hear the Count's Difcourfe, was the good Opinion ihe had 
 always had of her felf; for being fo handfome, as in truth 
 ihe was, ilie eafily imagind it would not be over-difficult 
 to convert this Friend of hers into an extravagant Lorer ; 
 fo that ihe did not much trouble her felf about thefe fine. 
 Refolutions of the Count's. She had told her Coufin, ihe 
 ivould not have him know ihe was in the Houfe, yet ihe 
 no fooner heard him fpeak, but Ihe was impatient to come 
 into the Chamber where he was ; and at length, hearing 
 him talk after the rate he did, could not prevail on her feif 
 to forbear: Wherefore coming in briskly, and ihewing her 
 felf all at once, It is upon this Foot, Count, laid ihe, of a, 
 Friend, and a tender Friend, that 1 am difpos'd to admit 
 your Vifits, and the oftner you make them, the more wel- 
 come they will be. The Count was at flrft greatly iurpris'd 
 to fee her, not thinking flic had been fo near ; but as he 
 was no longer in love with her, and altogether Maftcr of 
 himfelf, he began to recover his ordinary Temper, and 
 cajole her,who had that Day drcisdhcr lelf as magnificently 
 as he, telling her on this Occafion all that a ienfible and 
 flattering Friend could do ; iniomuch, that with the Dif- 
 pofition ihe had already for loving, or rather with the 
 Love íhe already felt for the Count, fhe abandon'd her felf 
 entirely to a Man whom ihe thought too aimable to be 
 refused, altho' he lov'd only out of Friendship, as he laid 
 lie did. This was the Eft'eót of this Interview, from which 
 Celinda hop'd for a Cure ; yet fhe met with nothing lefs 
 without the Count's concerning himfelf in the kail in it. 
 The Time for Walking being come, it ferv'd him for a 
 H Pretence- 
 
Boole III. of Guzman cPAIfarache. 481 
 
 Pretence to take Leave of thefc Ladies,that they aught maJktí 
 life of their Liberty in that reipcci, as he defign'd to do m 
 his. They were both ib well iatisfy'd with his Conduct, 
 that notwithstanding their Inclinations to ftay him a little 
 longer, they let him go in hopes he would keep his W ord, 
 and come ipeedily by their Door on Horieback, as he was 
 ivont to do. He did not foil to do io, after he had been 
 to fee his Dear Eleonora^ Love always taking Place of 
 Friendship. 
 
 Neverthelcfs the Count's V^xon not (uttering him to 
 fpend his Time altogether in Gallantries, he took a Rel'o- 
 lution to gain Eleonoras Gov em ante or Waiting-Woman, 
 coít what it would, which he lookd upon as a good Step 
 towards getting his Billets and Prelcnts receiv'd by his fair 
 Miftrefs; For this Purpofc he let two Women to work, 
 who underilood their Trade ; but they loit their Aim, the 
 old Woman being Religious, wcll-afteclcd to her Matter's 
 Family, and above all to the your g Lady, whom ihe lov'd 
 as tenderly as if lhe had been her own Daughter^ She had 
 been frequently tempted before now, but nothing could 
 prevail upon her to betray her young Miítreís. She knew 
 not how to be treacherous, and thought Love a great Sin 
 when it was not in form. The Two intriguing Women 
 having milcarried in their Attempts, came with great Con- 
 fufion, and repotted to the Count that employ d them, that 
 all their Arts and Cunning lcrv'd to no purpofe, the old 
 Woman they had to deal with being worle to manage than 
 the Devil. Upon this, the Lover only defir'd them to get 
 him the fight of this Waiting-Gentlewoman, that he ittjght 
 talk to her a little; for he thought no Woman, hotA 
 io ever, but would be easier preval I'd upon by the bare Sight 
 of a Man, than the Periwafions of never lb many Wi 
 They contriv'd then to get her to a certain private Houle, 
 which they foon did, and the Count was not long after 
 her. The ojd Gouvernante^ who knew not why ine was 
 brought thither, was greatly furpris'd when flic law the 
 Count there, whom ine knew very well, having ièen rüfe 
 al mo il every Day pais by her Mailer's Houle. This trou- 
 bled her a little, and the rather, becàufe the Two W T omen 
 had no iboner conducted her into the Room, but they 
 went away, and left her to him alone. He foon brought 
 her to her lelf by his obliging and courtly way of Pro 4 - 
 
 1 i ceeding ; 
 
482 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 cceding ; when, after a few Compliments, drawing forth 
 a Pu rie out of his Pocket, where there were 200 Ducats 
 ready told, he i'pread them upon the Table, and cry'd, 
 Good Mother ! fee here are lome Ducats which I intend to 
 make a Prêtent of to you, and require no other Service of 
 you but that you will be fo kind as to deliver this Billet 
 to your Miitrefs. The old Woman, who thought not at 
 firft that this Money was defign'd for her, but rather for 
 her young Lady, madeAnfwer, trembling, That her Mi- 
 ftreis was a diicreet young Lady, and would by no Means 
 accept fuch a Prefent. 1 know, reply 'd the Count, your 
 Lady is highly Difcreet, and 'tis That makes me fo much 
 in Love with her ; but as for the Ducats, continu'd he, 
 they are not for her, but for you ; fo putting up the 
 Money again, at the fame time he put both Purfe and Billet 
 into her Hands, faying, Here, keep this Money for your 
 felf, and be fure you fay nothing of it to your Miitrefs, 
 but only deliver the Letter j and if you bring me an An- 
 fwer, I have another Purfe of the fame Contents to reward 
 you. The old Woman took both Purfe and Billet, which 
 laft ihe promis'd to deliver to her Miikefs ; but laid, ihe 
 knew not whether ihe would receive it or not. She had 
 never fo much Money in her life, and therefore would be 
 very forry if her Lady ihould refufe the Letter, for fear ihe 
 ihould be oblig'd to return the Ducats again. She enter 'd 
 Eleonoras Chamber with a Heart full of Hopes, having 
 never had fo good Fortune before in her Life • and ihewing 
 her both the" Purfe and the Billet, very naturally betray 'a 
 the whole Secret. Her Lady turn'd pale all of a iudden, 
 and remain d Speechlefs for fome time, from a Confufion 
 of Thought that feis'd her Spirits. She law plainly then, 
 it was as ihe had fear'd from all the Proceedings of the 
 Count. She thought Ihe muit of neceflity be undone if the 
 Thing came to take Air,, as ihe apprehended it would 
 foon do ; and ihe knew not how to prevent it, unleis by 
 ihutting her felf up more clofely than ever, and giving 
 jj^jro fewer Opportunities to fee her, by which Means he 
 would be weand from any Pretentions to her. As for 
 the Letter, ihe was very far from receiving it. It was 
 feafd, and therefore ihe would needs return it unopen'd, 
 bidding the old Woman carry it back again, and the Purie 
 too, and telling her ihe could forgive her for once ¿ but if 
 
 ever 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 483 
 
 ever fhe did the like again, íhe could not help acquainting 
 her Father with it, who would be lure to turn her out of 
 Doors The Govcrnamc very much concern'd,not only that 
 ihe was oblig'd to carry tack the Money that ("he had 
 reckon'd upon, but alfo that íhe had dilplcas'd h¿r Miilrefp^ 
 went with a heavy Heart to find out the Qunt t who ftill 
 continuai in the lame Houfc; and having met him, ac- 
 quainted him with the ill Sucteís of her CommifTion, and 
 at the fame time return'd him the Billct ) and the Purfe. 
 The Count took the Billet, but as for the Purfe, he told the 
 old Gentlewoman he was fatisfy'd ilie had done her beft, 
 and therefore would not have it again, altho' he prefently 
 guefs'd Hie had blunder'd, by letting her Miftrefs know 
 ihe had Money given her, when he charg'd her to the con- 
 trary. The old Govemante, much cmbarrafs'd between the 
 Fear of diibbliging her Lady once more, and the ]oy of 
 having again her Dear Ducats, knew not what to do; how- 
 ever at length fhe yielded to the Temptation, and took 
 them, thinking, if the Worft came to the Worft, ihe had, 
 this for an Exculè, that the Count would force them upon 
 her, as indeed he threatned to do. Returning home, ihe 
 came and acquainted her Miftrefs. as before, with what íhe 
 had done, like a filly Gipfy as fhe was j and Eleonor a was 
 not over-well pleas'd that ilie had done fo : However, 
 fince ilie had redelivered the Letter, which was the only 
 Thing that regarded her, fhe was the better fatisfy'd. She 
 nevertheleis recommended to her to keep the Count's Libe- 
 rality as Secret as fhe could ; for fhould her Father or Bro- 
 ther come to the Knowledge of it, they would undoubtedly 
 ufe her ill on that Account. 
 
 Altho the Count had not fuccecded fo well as he could 
 have wihYd in his Enterprife, he neverthelefs was well 
 enough fatisfy'd, that he had made known to Eleonora in 
 fome" Meaiure the great PaiTion he had for her, referring 
 the reft to Time for advancing that Aftair. As ibon as 
 Night came, he went to pafs before her Window, as for- 
 merly, with a iplendid Equipage, adting the difconfolate 
 Lover, but no Body appear'd. The next Day was a Holi- 
 day, and he hop'd to malee himfelf Amends by feeing her 
 at Church ; but he was miftaken, for no Eleonora appear'd 
 there. He began to be greatly troubled ; and he fancy 'd 
 already he had not feenher for a Hundred Years y fote-* 
 
 lia dieu* 
 
 
484 The Lije and AUions Part L 
 
 dioiis her Abfence was to him. He could not tell whether 
 it was occafion'd by his Letter, or fome Indifpofition, for 
 he law her Father and Brother at Church. To be fatisfy'd 
 in the Truth, he lent out his Two Women once more to 
 iound the old Woman ; but ihe came no more abroad than 
 her Miitrefs, and io they were dilappointed. They learn'd 
 however in the Neighbourhood, that the young Lady was 
 not very well. This both affliéted our Lover,and comforted 
 him, in that his Appréhendons were not altogether true. 
 She had indeed had a very bad Night of it, or at leait pre- 
 tended to have fo, that ihe might excufe her ielf from 
 going to Church, where ihe knew the County would be. 
 'Ih'is Cavalier however was not wholly indifferent to her, 
 he could not be lb to any Woman ; but as ihe knew not 
 yet what Love was, ihe was not a little diiturb'd by thele 
 nrft Motions of it, and which, in Conjunction with the 
 Smugglings ihe had with her Virtue, did not iiifFer her to 
 fleep" a Wink all Night. It was not the fame with the 
 Count ; but he did not undergo lei's Trouble from the Un- 
 certainty he was under,whether his Captivity was agreeable 
 or not to his Conqueror. Impatience, Vexation, Dilquiet, 
 and all the Plagues of Love, began to feize him, efpecially 
 iince he could not fee his charming Lady whom he had io 
 often been in queft of. He had pals'd and repafs'd a Hun- 
 dred times a Day by her Window without feeing her 
 once ; and at lait, he only faw her by Chance at an un- 
 feaionable Hour, when no Body would have expected her ; 
 but which Happineis he was ibon depriv'd of, by her let- 
 ting down the Sain as ibon as ihe lpy'd him, lb tliat he 
 could have wiih'd he had never feen her at all. Sometimes 
 Defpair was in Pofieflion of him, and then again a Moment 
 after he would recover his Courage, and Hope all from 
 Love and Time. He learn'd by chance I was very well 
 acquainted with her Brother, and had a good Undemand- 
 ing with him, which made him invite me to Dinner, tho' 
 any honeft Gentleman was welcom to his Table at any time. 
 Being very familiar with the Count, as I had had the Ho- 
 nour to be known to him a long time, and he knowing I 
 had been a Hunting with Eleonoras Brother the Day before, 
 lie demanded of me how I had ipent that Day. I told him, 
 I was that Day a Hunting with a Friend of mine calld 
 Vakrio, What, that falerio that is lo often with you, re- 
 ply d 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache.' 485 
 
 ply'd he, pray who is he ? He is a Cavalier, anfwer'd T, 
 of an undoubted Reputation. He has all the Wit, Cou- 
 rage, Honour, and good Humour,that Man can have. He 
 is well-belov'd by every Body, goes every where, and de- 
 fir'd by all Companies that know him. He has both ac- 
 quire! and natural Talents, especially in Mufick, which 
 brought me acquainted with him, and which he poflefl'es in 
 the higheit Degree. He plays upon divers lbrts of Inftru- 
 ineritSj but in Perfection on the Harpfichord and Bafs- Viol : 
 And for the Lute, he has a Silter that touches it to a Mi- 
 racle. That is to iay, interrupted the Count, iiniling, Mu- 
 fick is the pretended Reaion of your being acquainted with 
 this Gentleman, and his Sifter the real. I inould be too 
 prefuming, Sir, reply'd I, to afpirc fo I1Í5I1 ; for over and 
 above that ihe is one of the moft beautiful and amiable 
 Ladies in Rome, I know none that has more Wit, or 
 greater Virtue ; and as I know Hie is not proper for me, 
 Ï am likewife iàtisfy'd I am by no means fit for her. She 
 has too little Fortune to be my Wife, and too much Vir- 
 tue to be my Miltrefs. In above Three Year's Time that I 
 have been very intimate with her Brother, I have not heard 
 her play upon the Lute above once, when her Brother pre- 
 vail'd on her with fomc Difficulty to let us have a little 
 Confort together. She took her Lute, her Brother the Bals- 
 Viol, and 1 the Violin, and our Contort continud about 
 Two Hours. Since that I have never leen her, but at the 
 Window, tho' I go often to the Houfc. Her Father has 
 been one of the chiefeit Men at the Lute in all Italy ; but 
 now he is grown Aged, his Hands fhake, and you cannot 
 difobligc him more than to ask him to play. The Count 
 heard all this with iome Indifference, and without inter- 
 rupting me : At lait he faid, The Chandler you give of 
 this KdcriOjUifes in me a Defire to be acquainted with him ; 
 and I wonder you have never brought him to lee me, for 
 ycu know I love both Mufick and Mulicians ; and above 
 all, he is a Hunter, which is my darling Delight. Heiâa 
 Hunter, reply I, and loves Hunting exceedingly, which 
 occafions our being the ottencr together ; and Í may iky, 
 thole Two Diverlions of Hunting and Mufick divide our 
 Lives, lb that we are almoft continually employ 'd in one 
 or the other. But as he is not one that loves to make a 
 Noiie } or go any where he has not been iiivit«J,tlut has been 
 
 1 i 3 the 
 
^Î6 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 the Reaion I have not brought him to wait upon you ; but 
 I will tell him the firif time I fee him, that you are de- 
 {irous to be acquainted with him ; and no doubt he will 
 take it for a great Honour, and be ready to kils your Hands 
 3S fcon as you pleaie. The Count terrify 'd his Obligations 
 to me, but chofe to have this Meeting owing rather to 
 Chance than Deiîgn, and therefore told me he lhould go 
 to his Country-Houfe at Night, and flay there all the next 
 Day, when if I would come a Hunting that way with 
 Valerio, he ihould be exceeding glad to fee us both. I took 
 this Commiflion upon me, and did not doubt but I fhould 
 eafily bring it about, Valerio having long known the Count 
 by Reputation, and been often defirous to be known to 
 him. I no fooner made him the Propofal, but he was 
 charm'd at it, and thank'd me a Thouiand times. Wc 
 prefently fet about getting Horfes; but that we needed 
 not have done, for at ray return home towards Night, I 
 Found Two very fine Horfes that the Count had ient me, 
 which he would never take again, but made a Prefent of 
 them to me. We got up early next Morning, Valerio 
 and I, and went to wait on the Count, whom we found at 
 the Entrance into a Wood, hard by the Highway, with his 
 Huntfmen and Dogs about him, and Fuiees for us. He 
 received Valerio in the moft obliging manner that could be ; 
 and foon after, putting our Dogs upon the Scent, we had 
 all the Diverilon we could expect, the Weather being good, 
 and the Country full of Game. As the Count was never 
 wanting in any thing, he had given Orders we ihould find 
 à Breakfaft ready prepared near a Fountain, which of it 
 ihlf invited us to a Refrefhment. Valerio was charm'd 
 with theie Civilities, but above all with the Count's Con- 
 vention, and his affable and eaile Addreis. We continu d 
 our Hunting after having breakfafted t ; ll about a Eleven 
 a Clock, when we began to bend our Courfe homewards 
 in order to dine. When we came to the Count's Houie, 
 we found a iplendid and magnificent Entertainment. 
 When we rife from Table, it being one of thole cloudy 
 Days that are fo pleafant in this County, the Count ask'd us 
 to walk, that he might ihew us his Gardens, which his 
 Uncle, from whom he had inherited them, had laid out 
 infinite Sums upon, and confequently they muff needs be 
 extraordinary fine. We walk'd Three Hours before we 
 
 could 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 487 
 
 could tire our felves, fo many curious and admirable 
 Things offering themfclves every Moment to our view. 
 At our Return, we fell to our Mufical Initruments ; when 
 the Count, who underítood Muilck exceedingly well for a 
 Man of Quality, play 'd his Part on the Harpíícíiord. If lie 
 was aitonifh'd to hear Valerio play, Valerio was no lefs to 
 hear him; for you would have thought he had pradis'd 
 nothing clie all his Life-time, io exceedingly well he per- 
 form'd. This lalted till Supper, with equal Pleafure on 
 all fides. I fancy 'd we fhould now have part of our 
 Hunting Provifions, for we had none at Dinner, but I Avas 
 miitaken ; we had nothing lefs, all our Dilhes being 
 of another Kind, and no leis Excellent than thofe we had 
 before. The Count told us, die Reafon he did not give us 
 any Thing of what we had taken in the Morning, was bc- 
 caufe he thought it too frefh, and left we fhould iup ill ; 
 but fince we had taken the Pains to afliit him in Hunting, 
 we muft likewiiè tike that to carry home what we had 
 got, he well knowing what a Pleafure it was to a Hunter 
 to eat what he had caught. We endcavour'd to excufe our 
 felves from accepting his Offer, but all to no Purpoie, for 
 he would needs force it upon us ; and moreover, added to 
 it two large Baskets of Fruit, the fmeft that ever were 
 fcen, one for Valerio, and the other for me ; all which 
 were io equally divided, that you would have thought he 
 had no more Reafon to favour one than t'other. Some Pea- 
 iants were order'd to carry theft Prefents to our refpeótive 
 Houfes, which was done without our Knowledge, and 
 without any of our People's knowing from whence they 
 came. Supper ended, we remounted on Horfeback in 
 order to return home. Valerio, who never ceas'd telling; 
 me how well he thought himlelf diverted, now lie came 
 to take Leave of the Count, was fo confounded with Civi- 
 lities, that he knew not how to make him iufflcient Ac- 
 knowledgments, nor teitifie how much he was devoted to 
 his Service. 
 
 We arriv'd at Rome much about the time that the Count 
 came thither in a Cbaife. We pals'd together through the 
 Street where Valerio liv'd, which was the direct way to the 
 Count's Houie,and were no fooncr come to Valerios Habitati- 
 on, but the Count ftop'd to take Leave of him ; but Valerio, 
 who knew his Duty, would by all means wait upon him 
 
 I i 4 home. 
 
, 
 
 488 The Life and Aftions Part 
 
 home. As they were thus Complimenting, the fair Eleo- 
 nora, who knew nothing of this Hunting, hearing her 
 Brother in the Street, ran to the Window to fee who he 
 was with i and lifting up the Safh briskly, fhe was under 
 the greateft Surprile to find that it was the Count. As I 
 began to pay my Reípeds to her, the Count did the like , 
 and her Brother falling into Difcourie with him, fhe durft 
 •not let down the Window j fo that the Count had oppor- 
 tunity to make himielf Amends for Ten or Twelve Days 
 chat he had not ieen'her. For my part, who had not the 
 leaít Diftruit of this Amour, I was very glad the Count had 
 feen her, believing this to be the firft time, to the end that 
 he might be convine'd that what I had told him of her 
 was true ; but I obíerv'd ihe was a little more concern d 
 than ordinary at the Sight of him, and blulh'd, which I 
 attributed to lier Modeity. This Difcourfe laííed at leaft 
 a Quarter of an Hour, all which time Eleonora look'd at 
 lis ; but at length, the Count infifting that Valerio lhould 
 continue where he was, we left him, after having taken 
 Leave of him and his fair Sifter. When I found my felf 
 ?.lone with the Count, I expected he would talk to me of 
 the young Lady's Beauty ; but obferving that he faid not a 
 Word of it, I began the Difcourie my felf, whenheown'd, 
 like one that was indifferent, that (he was exceeding hand- 
 iome, and io tum'd the Diicourfe upon 'iomething 
 elle. 
 
 Valerio was no fooner got within Doors, but being ex- 
 ceedingly channd with the Civilities and good Qualities 
 of the Count, he talk J d oí' nothing elle all that Day,and cry'd 
 him up fora Wonder. God knows what Impreflion this 
 made on his Sifter s Heart, who was already but too well- 
 diipos d not to hate this Cavalier, and who lov'd her Bro- 
 ther fo well, that fhe would yield to any Thing to pleaiè 
 him. She made him tell, and repeat to her Ten times over, 
 what they had done that Day ; and fhe had always new 
 Queihons to ask about our Hunting,our gpodCheer,and our 
 Convcriation, not forgetting our Mufick. But what fur- 
 pris 'd the Brother very much, was the Basket of Fruit, 
 and lus Share of the Hunting Prpvifions, which had been 
 brought without his Father or Sifter's knowing any thing 
 but that he lent them. He believ'd there was no Man 
 ¿Uve fca£>v how to do, Tilings with a better Grace than 
 
 this 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 489 
 
 this Lord ; and he faid, he doubted not but I had as much 
 fent me of the fame Kind. This pleas'd both the Father 
 and Sifter extreamly ; and the old Gentleman advis'd his 
 Son to cultivate and continue a Friendfhip with this Noble- 
 man, who he told him might one Day do him fome conil- 
 derable Service, the Fortune of his Family being brought 
 greatly to Decay, and wanting fuch a Support. Valerio 
 being a prudent Pcrfon, had bad the lame Confideration 
 with his Father ; but his Siller knew better than either of 
 them whom this Obligation was owing to. She law plain- 
 ly, if Matters went on thus, her Heart would be apt to 
 clcape her ; but then Ihe conlidei'd on t otherSide,and which 
 comforted her, that if ever lhe fhould be ib weak, it 
 ihould be for an honeit Man, and whom all the World 
 fhould think lüch. 
 
 Next Morning Valerio dctermin'd to go and pay his De- 
 voirs to the Count, and thank him tor all die Honours and 
 Civilities he had received from him. He came to get me to 
 go a long with him, and I went accordingly. The uwwtf was 
 exceeding glad to lee us; and interrupting Valerio in the 
 midtt of his Acknowledgments and Compliments, told 
 him, He delVd him to be his Friend without Ceremony, 
 as he was fmccrely his. He bid him be aiïur'd of it, and 
 that he would give him lome Token of it as loon as it 
 Ihould be in his Power. This was directly his Temper, 
 who delighted not in Words, who did every Thing with- 
 out faying any thing, and could not furfcr it to be men- 
 tioned again to him after it was done. We then fell natu- 
 rally upon the Divcilion we had had the Day before ; and 
 as Valerio protclled he had never pafs'd any Day of his Life 
 lb agreeably, the Count laid, Since I find, Gentlemen, you 
 are lb pleas'd with it, it will be your Faults if we have 
 not the fame, or rather better, to Morrow ; when, if you 
 pleale, I will carry you to another Eliate 1 have lome few 
 Miles from that where we were hit, and where I do not 
 doubt you will find abundantly more Game, and greater 
 Diverfion ; but we mult go and lie at my other Houfe to 
 Night, that we may be ready the next Morning betimes 
 I anfwerd him, lmiling, That Valerio and I, wíio had lit- 
 tle elle to do than to mind our Plealure, would be lure to 
 be at his Command whenever he pleas'd. Orders were im- 
 mediately given for this Purpolej and Dinner-time ap- 
 proaching. 
 
4£o The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 proaching, he made us ftay and dine with him. After 
 Dinner, Valerio, who had never feen this Houfe where 
 the Count liv'd, and which was indeed a very fine and 
 ftately Palace, which many Cardinals his Relations had 
 greatly adorn d, diícover'd lome Deiire to fee it; where- 
 upon the Count was fo kind as to carry us himfelf all 
 about it, and where were fo many Rarities and Curiofi- 
 ties, that we were above Three Hours in furveying them 
 all. After this, Valerio going to take Leave, that he might 
 have Time to prepare himfelf for the Hunting-Match, 
 the Count told him he had time enough and to fpare , 
 therefore in the mean time they might have a fmall Con- 
 fort ; for being to go by his Houfe in their way to the 
 Country, it would be a double Trouble for him to go 
 home now, fince they would give him Time enough to 
 drefs 3 s they pafs'd by. The Count had always his Love- 
 Affairs in his Head, and faiTd not to make ufe of every 
 Occafion to procure him the fight of his Miftrefs. You 
 may imagine, Sir, that was his Defign here, verily be- 
 lieving that whi lit they were at the Door, lhe would not 
 fail to fhew her ielf at the Window. As he thought, 
 fo it happen d ; for fhe no fooner heard us coming along, 
 (for the Count had many Servants with him,without whom 
 he never went into the Country) but coming to the 
 Window ihe lifted up the Saih and look'd at us, being 
 much better drefs'd, and appearing more -beautiful than 
 ufual. We faluted her ; the Count with his ordinary 
 Gallant Air, and I as well as I could. He fpoke to me, 
 and then look'd at the Lady, and afterwards gave his 
 Orders to his Servants with the leaft affedkd and con- 
 itrain'd Air that could be. When Valerws Father under- 
 flood we were at the Door, he thought he could not but 
 come and pay his RefpeCts to the Count, and give Thanks 
 for all his Civilities to his Son, and the Honour he did 
 his Family. The Count no fooner law him but he alighted, 
 and Ihew'd him all the Refpei* due to fo venerable an 
 old Man. The old Gentleman returned him many Com- 
 pliments after the old way ; to which the Count anfwer'd, 
 That he had found in the Gentleman his Son lb great 
 Worth and Integrity, that he was overjoy 'd at the Ac- 
 quaintance with him, and that he ow'd the Obligation 
 to me. The old Gentleman reply'd very modeitly, He 
 
 mould 
 
Book Hi of Guzman d'Alfarache. 491 
 
 fhould think his Son exceeding happy if he could but 
 merit the Eiteem, and obtain the Afre&ion of his Lcrd- 
 ihip. Valerios Return put an end to all theíé Compli- 
 ments. We remounted on Horieback : The good old 
 Man wiih'd us a happy journey, and a proiperous Di- 
 verfion. The Count told, him, he hop'd it would be fo, 
 and that he would pleafe to partake of the Succefs of 
 it. I ihall tell you nothing, either of the Pleafure we 
 had in this Day's Hunting, of the good Cheer we made, 
 or of the other Diverfions the Count provided for us, they 
 being all of the fame Stamp, equally Good and Generous. 
 We return'd more loaded with his Civilities than ever j 
 and there could be nothing more excellent nor better, than 
 what he fent home with Valerio, whole Share was now 
 much larger than mine, under the Pretence that the old 
 Gentleman was to partake of our Succefs, according to 
 the Promife the Count made him. For my part, I was 
 very well fatisfy'd with what I had. We were impa- 
 tiently expedted back both by the Father and his Daughter, 
 which was a new Pleafure to the Count, and brought ne\' 
 Obligations upon this Family, who thought they coul 
 never make Acknowledgments enough. 
 
 Things laired in this manner for fome time, and Va- 
 lerio and my ielf were fure to partake in all the Counts 
 Pleafures. Never People liv'd fo happily as we did, but 
 our Pleafures were but little relilhed by fome People. 
 Celinda and her Confidente complain'd much of our Count.: 
 They had writ him Two very pert and gallant Letters, 
 but full of Reproaches. The Count had aniwer'd the Con- 
 fidente\ but not Celindas, becaufehchad a Mind to put an 
 End to that Amour, which began to fatigue and tire 
 him. His Thoughts were now taken up by an other Per- 
 fon ; and he had no Room for Gallantry, which his Mind 
 could not in the leait admit of. He believ'd he could 
 not fucceed better with a Woman of Celinda's Pride, than 
 by ihewing her fome Indifference, and fo getting rid of 
 her all at once ; but then he did not know how far 
 her Pafilon was gone, and how dangerous it might prove 
 to flight a Woman of her Temper, who had lb good 
 an Opinion of her felf, and was Extream in every Thing 
 {he did. Her Confidente might, through Complaifance, 
 palliate Things to her as much as ihe pleas'd : She was 
 
 but 
 
4^2 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 but too well acquainted with them, and the Count's Con- 
 duit fpoke phin enough. She faw nothing there but 
 what ruind her, but what put her into a Rage againft 
 him, againft her felf, againft her poor weak Heart, againft 
 her Confidente ; and, in a Word, againft every Thing that 
 came into her Imagination. She fought only Objects on 
 which ihe might difcharge the Fury of her Deipair for 
 feeing her felf ib flighted by a Man, ihe that had al- 
 ways flighted every Body. Her Coufin, who had once 
 appear'd fo lively, fo brisk, and ib zealous in her Ser- 
 vice, now became unaétive and iniènfible. She no lon- 
 ger ihew'd that bold enterprifing Temper, but became as 
 tame as a Muckworm. Celinda thought all this was but 
 the fooner to drive her to Deipair : "However, ihe em- 
 ploy J d Emifiaries to watch Night and Day over the Count's 
 Conduct, to pry into his moft private Actions, and to 
 follow him wherever he went, who gave her a faithful 
 Account of all. They learn'd that the Count went every 
 Morning early to Hunting, and did not return till late 
 ¿t Night ; that he fometimes fpent whole Days at home 
 m diverting himfelf with his Mufick ; that he never 
 faw any Ladies j that he would not iiiffer himfelf to 
 be feen, even by his beft Friends • that he ièldom came 
 abroad into the City ; and, in a Word, that he was no 
 more the fame Man. All this went well enough, and 
 Celinda was well pleas'd with all Ihe heard; but what 
 Ihe could not comprehend, or rather what Ihe compre- 
 hended but too much, w r as that in this new Courle of 
 Life, which they calfd a Retreat from the World, the 
 Count was more magnificently dieis'd than ever, had a finer 
 Equipage, and was never in better Humour, and that 
 this lhould be only on Account of Hunting and Mu- 
 fick, ihe could not underftand. But what iurpriz'd her 
 yet more was, that the Count was always mufing upon 
 ibmewhat ; and fince he had io flighted her, ihe fear'd 
 there was lome other Woman in the cafe. 
 
 Whilft this Lady thus tormented her felf for Love of the 
 Count, and he thought of her no more than if he had never 
 feen her, an Occafion oft'er'd that was much to his Satis- 
 faction. It feems Valerios Father had for 1 5 Years laft paft 
 been in Law for a fine Eftate of his, which had been un- 
 juftly wreftcd. from him by a high Hand, and which con- 
 tributed 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache; 4^3 
 
 tnbuted much to the Ruin of his Family. His Adverfaiy 
 underwood how to manage his Caufe very well, was in 
 great Favour with the Court, and befidcs was exceeding 
 Rich, three Qualities that he wanted, and for want of 
 which his Caulè went worfe and worfe every Day, and he 
 was like to lole it ; which if he ihould do, the lble Cofts 
 of Suit would be enough to fweep away all the reft of 
 liis Eftate, You may imagine the good old Gentleman was 
 not a little difturbd at this Thought, and that if this 
 Misfortune Ihould happen to him, 'he lhould be like to 
 leave two Children that he lov'd tenderly, miferable and 
 not wherewithal to iubhft, efpecially Eleonora, who was a 
 Woman, and coniequently could not lo well lhift for her 
 iclf. His Attorney was come to tell him, it was high time 
 for him to think of what he intended to do, and procure 
 Money from his Friends to defray the Charges of the Suit* 
 for he thought his Caufe would come on that lame Week. 
 This was to this good old Man, as if fomebody had come 
 to tell him the Hour of his Death. His Son comforted him 
 thro' the Hopes he had, that the Count, who was Goodneis it 
 ièlf, would aflift him in this Extremity, and not refufe 
 him his Protection, at leaft upon this emergent Occafion. 
 Eleonora back'd the Thought of her Brother," and laid, lhe 
 did not doubt but he would do all could be defir'd of 
 him. This reftor'd the old Man, inlbmuch that he offer'd 
 his Son to go along with him to the Count, if he thought 
 his Pretence would be neceiTary : But Valerio and his Sifter 
 juelg'd it more proper to make ufe of me to break the Mat- 
 ter to the Count, and found him, whether he was willing 
 to engage in it or not, that according to his Anlwer they 
 might know what to do. Valerio had no looner ipoke to 
 me about it, but in the Opinion I was, that the Count, who 
 was naturally generous, lov'd him very well, I did not 
 doubt but he would gratify his Requeft in this rcípeéf, and 
 told him as much. 1 bid him be eafy, and in Jeis than an 
 Hours time I would come and bring him good News. I 
 kept my Word, as you will hear. I went immediately to 
 the Co:rat, and told him the whole Story. He hearken'd 
 to mc with a great deal of PleaiWej and when I liad done, 
 he laid limling, 1 rind Valerio docs not know me. I never 
 delire to be entreated to lerve my Friends. I have often 
 told iiim I was his, and that's iurheient. Let him but this 
 
 Nisht 
 

 424 ï'he Ltf e anc ? ¿fiions Part 1. 1 
 
 Night draw me up a fhort State of his Cafe, and he fhall 
 find I will do him all the Service I am able, both in this Aftair 
 or any thing elle. I ran forthwith to Valerio, to give hi in 
 ■an Account how I had fucceedcd. Both the Father and 
 Son embrac'd me heartily, terrifying a thoufand Obligations 
 to me for what I had done. The Cafe was foon drawn up, 
 and Valerio and I carried it to the Count, who at firft ftop'd 
 Valerios Mouth, telling him he would hear no Compli- 
 ments from him, that he did by no means love them, and 
 that, if he would oblige him, lie muft omit them entirely, 
 and accept of him for his Friend, which he had often told 
 him he was. He bid him, moreover, not perplex himfelf 
 about his Cauie, nor his Father neither, and told him he 
 ihould be ferv'd in it without its being known by whom, or 
 who folicited for him. He knew well what he laid, for he was 
 not a Novice in thefe fort of Matters, and perfectly un- 
 derftood how to go about it with Succefs. He fucceeded 
 ib well, that in 1 5 Days time Valerios Father gain'd his 
 Caufe^ with his Charges, without itirring over his own 
 Threinold. Heaven only knows what Joy this occafion'd 
 in that Family. The Count's Satisfaction was no lefs for to 
 do Service, and important Service to a Friend that flood in 
 need of it, at a Juncture when he was like to be ruin'd for 
 want of it, was all that a truly generous Heart could defire. 
 The Father would needs go with his Son to make Acknow- 
 ledgments to the Count, and he did it fo fenfibly and feel- 
 ingly, that even the Tears flood in his Eyes. The Count en- 
 deavour'd all he could to lelïen the Service he had done 
 him, by the little Pains it had coft him, and the Juitice of 
 his Caufe ; but the Father, who was not ignorant in theie 
 fort of Matters, elpecially from the time he had been fo 
 deeply engagd in them, knew what to think of it. The 
 Count tefti&ed the great Satisfaction he had in doing what he 
 had done, and would needs detain them at Dinner, fend- 
 ing for me to make up a Fourth. The Entertainment was 
 fuch as the Count ufually made, exceeding magnificent, and 
 the Converfation was very cnecrful, becaufe every Body 
 was in good Humour. Next Day the Count would needs 
 make a Vint to the old Gentleman, and I waited upon 
 him. I acquainted Valerio before with his coming; and 
 we went towards Night without any Attendance but the 
 Gentleman tliat was put in Priions The old Gentleman, 
 
 who 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 49g 
 
 who under flood himfelf very well, receiv'd the Count with 
 all the Honours due to his Quality; and as he believed 
 he could not do too much for a Lord to whom he had io 
 great an Obligation, he would needs, after a Quarter of 
 an Hour's Converfation, have his Daughter come and thank 
 the Count on her Part. She appear'd in all her beft Attire, 
 but itill her Beauty was her grcateft Ornament, ihe having 
 one of thofe Faces that charm wherever they come, and dazle 
 all about them. I believe the Count was not the lea il 
 charm'd in the Company. She enter'd the Room like a 
 Queen, and, without feeming concern'd at any thing, told 
 the Count, who riiè to ialute her, after the manner of the 
 Country, as foon as he faw her, that lhe was not infeniiblc 
 of the lèverai Honours he had done her Family, but that 
 this la ft Gencrofity of his, in interefting himfelf io freely 
 in their Law-Suit, which had had fo good Succefs, was 
 lbmething fo very obliging, that fhe could not but obey 
 her Father's Orders, who had commanded her to come and 
 make her Acknowledgments to his Lordihip for fo great a 
 Favour, altho' it was not over-feemly in a young Lady, as 
 ihe was, fo to do. The Count anfwer'd little for fear of 
 dilquictting himfelf, for how fhining foever his Converfa- 
 tion was at other times, I believe he had now but little 
 Heart tofpeak, lb difturb'd he needs muft be at the Sight of 
 his Fair Paramour. I obferv'd this plainly in him, and he 
 never ihew'd fo little of a lprightly Temper as now. He 
 neverthclefs did his beft to conceal his Paflion, yet which 
 was done with much Difficulty. He let us talk a-while, 
 and after fome time recovering himfelf, began to enter into 
 Converlation, and made fome Amends for his former 
 Default. But not caring to difcourfe long, and feeing a 
 Lute on the Table, which I believe was laid there on pur- 
 pole to give the Lady an Opportunity to divert the County 
 he neverthelels durft not ask that Favour either of her or 
 her Father, but whifpering me, I made it known to the 
 Brother, who fate by me, who immediately put the Lute 
 into his Sifter's Hands, who, without any farther Intreaty, 
 play'd to us for a whole Hour together lo charmingly fine, 
 that nothing could be better perform'd on that Inftrument. 
 The Count having made his Vifit three Hours long, and not 
 bewig willing to fatigue the Company too mucfi, took his 
 Leave, Uio' lie was very unwilling to part, and we return'd 
 
 to 
 
4P¿ The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 to his Houfe with Valerio, whom we brought along to fup 
 with us. I will not pretend, Sir, to tell you how it fard 
 with the Count after this Interview, nor how much concern d 
 the Lady was, fince that would be but Guefs-work, and 
 befides, you are better able to imagine it than my felf. 
 
 The Time being come that the old Gentleman was to go 
 and take Poñeflion of his Eftate, he went accordingly with 
 his Son, but it was no longer what it had been formerly, 
 fifteen Years that his Adverfary had had it, and taken no 
 Care of it, having redue'd it to a very forry Condition. 
 The old Gentleman was much concern d to fee it fo rui- 
 nous ; the Houfe, that had been a fine old Chutean, being fo 
 far gone that it was hardly Habitable. This occafion d the 
 good old Man a new Difquiet, for having fcarce where- 
 withal to fubfift his Family, he knew not how he ihould 
 be able to refiere thefe Ruins ; and if he ihould fell the 
 Eftate in the Condition it was in, it would be in a man- 
 ner giving it away. He return 'd home very melancholy, 
 neither he nor his Son knowing what Refolution to take. 
 Next Morning Valerio going, as he did almoit every Day, 
 to wait on the Count, he ask'd him News of his Eilate, and 
 whether his Father had been to fee it. Valerio told him in 
 what Condition they found it, but conceal'd from him 
 part of his Father's Concern. The Count faid, he would go 
 fee it himielf, and next Morning we three went a Hunting 
 that way for that purpole. We found it truly in a 
 miferable Pickle, but the Count, who had fome Defign in 
 his Head, would needs períwade Valerio Things were not 
 fo bad as he imagined, or they leem'd ; and if he would but 
 fpare one Years Revenue, he would find People Ihould in 
 two Months time refiore the Eilate to as good a Condition 
 as ever. The Count peififiing to períwade Valerio to this ? 
 and that he would engage his Father to conient to it, be- 
 caufie he faid he had dorte two other of his Friends the 
 like Kindneís, Valerio could not but return him a thou* 
 fand Thanks for all his Favours, whether to him in par- 
 ticular, or his Family in general, but told him, he much 
 doubted his Father would not conient to give him any 
 more Trouble, fince he had been but too much oblig'd to 
 him for what he had done already. The Count never left 
 pnrfuing his Point, telling Valerio, his Father could not 
 oblige him more than to entruft that Affair to him, for is 
 
 *** wo" ld 
 
Book III. cf Guzman d'AIfarache. 497 
 
 would be a Diverfion to him, and that he belicvM it woul^ 
 be a Work of two Months, or thereabouts ; however it 
 ihould coit him no more than one Years Revenue. This 
 Diicourlè lafted for lbme fhort time longer, and then we 
 took leave of the Count, As we went along, I told Valerio, 
 I could not imagine what mide him ule lb many Com- 
 pliments with the Count upon this occ.ifion ; that undoubted- 
 ly he had a mind to do what he deiir'd, of he would not 
 have ask'd it, and that to refufc to comply with him, was 
 highly to difoblige him ; and laitly, that the Count was 
 Nobleman great enough to have it in his Power to o- 
 blige lèverai Períbns to do this Work with little or no 
 Expence to himfclf. Valerio hearken'd to what I laid very 
 attentively, and when I had done, he went to acquaint his 
 Father with it in great haftc. He found him difecurfing 
 with his Sifter, much perplex'd, and unrefolv'd what to do. 
 Valerio immediately told him, it depended only on himfclf 
 to be eas'd of that Trouble he was under, and ib related 
 to him the Count's Propofal, and what I my felf had advis'd 
 him to, with my Reafons for it. The good old Man could 
 not comprehend any thing of all this, and whatever his 
 Son íaid to him, would not be peri waded to fuffer that the 
 Count Ihould undertake fuch a Commiflion. He had not 
 the kail Thought that all thclc Favours came on his Daugh- 
 ters account, but imagined they were purely the Effects of 
 a generous Temper, which was not however to be too much 
 trefpalsd upon. At length, neverthelefs, he yielded to his 
 Son's Reafons, or rather to the Confideration of his mean 
 Fortune, which would not permit him to do what was ne- 
 ceiïary in this Cafe. As for Eleonora, íhe heard the Reafons 
 both of one and the other, without proffering her own, 
 tho' fhe could better difcourfe on this Point than either 
 of them, as knowing more of the Miftery ; but fhe thought 
 it better to be filent, in an Affair wherein fhe had lb much 
 Concern. 
 
 Valerio no fooner faw the Count than he acquainted him 
 with his Father's Scruples, but that at length he yielded 
 out of Duty, and contented that his Lordlhip ihould do 
 what he pleas'd with his Eifate, and repair and mend it 
 as he thought fit. Hereupon the Lover immediately let a- 
 bout it, that he might lofe no Time, and employ 'd as many 
 Workmen as he thought neceffary, as well to repair the 
 
 Kk Houle 
 
49 8 The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 Houfe, as the Land, that both might be finiûYd by the Time 
 prcpos'd. Valentine^ who is the Gentleman that is in Pri- 
 lon, was chargd with this CommiiTton, as being a Perfon 
 both Difcreet and Prudent, and who underftood thefe fort 
 of Matters exceedingly well. As he well knew how he 
 ihould pleaic the Count by his Indwftry, for his Lordíhip 
 put entire Confidence in him, he omitted nothing that 
 might forward the Work, and fo got the beft Workmen 
 he could find : But had a Memorandum from the Count 
 what he would hare done, efpecially to the Houfe, which 
 he took moil Care of. He did not, however, iatisfy him- 
 ielf altogether with this; he went often himfclf difguis'd 
 like a Hunter, with a Gun upon his Shoulder, to fee how 
 the Work went on, and to give fuch new Orders as he 
 judg'd necelTary, to the end nothing might be wanting. 
 There were fix Painters employ 'd, and all very skilful in 
 their Art, but where they wrought moft was in that quar- 
 ter of the Houfe where it was believ'd the Fair Eleonora 
 would have her Appartment. This was finely Wainfcot- 
 ted, and let off with neat Clofets, ftately PrefTes, fix'd Ta- 
 bles, and a thoufand other pretty Conveniencies that ren- 
 der cl it wonderfully ufeful; all which was fo well con- 
 triv'd and underftood, and at the lame time fo fimple and 
 natural, in which the Count ihew'd his Addrefs, tliat no- 
 thing could be better fancied, nor more apt to furprife at 
 firft Sight. As for the Paintings, they were generally in 
 the Clolèts and Alcoves, whofe Ceilings were for the molt 
 part in Frefco. Thofe Clolèts and Alcoves that were kept 
 (but up, had the moft curious Workmanfhip of all Kind?, 
 which coit moft Money, and had moft Time fpent about them. 
 Thisconfiftcd of Deviles, Emblems, Cifres, Hieroglyphick?, 
 and, in a Word, whole Fables. You might there fee a 
 Hunting Diana- another in a Bath ; a Venus ftanding upon 
 a Shell; Europa on a Bull; and, in fine, whatever elle 
 was beft known in the Fable, or moft fecret in the Mifteries 
 of Love. All was there rcprefented with that Nicety and 
 Exactncts, that you could not polïibly meet with any thing 
 better ellewhcre ; but what was yet more rare and more 
 iurprifing was, that all the Goddciles had Eleonoras Face, 
 who, neverthelefs, had never been painted, yet lee how the 
 Matter came about. The Count, among other fine Talents 
 he had, which ncvcrthcleishecndeavour'dto hide as much 
 
 • as 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 4^ 
 
 as others do to publish theirs, under ftood Painting to a 
 Miracle, and had fo well learnt the Manner of one of the 
 greateft Matters that Italy then had, that he had painted 
 fome Pieces that even that Maiter himfelf faid, he would not 
 difown, if they had been father'd upon him. Being thus 
 skillful, he at leifure Hours painted Eleonoras Portrait 
 from the bare Idea he had of her, and made fo excellent a 
 Piece, that it was fit to be hung up in any Cabinet of the 
 Curious. Having given this Picture to tnefe fix Painters, 
 who had all their Defigns from him, it was not difficult 
 for them to make exacl: Copies of it, as indeed they did. 
 I fay nothing here of the reft of the Building ; which was 
 repaired from bottom to top in liich manner, that you 
 could not pofllbly know the old Chateau again. I Iky 
 nothing likewife of fevcral Fountains he reftor'd, of a great 
 Fiih-Pond become a Marlh, which he put in order, and 
 ftor'd with Filh ; of the Gardens, Parterres, Orchards, 
 Walks, and, in a Word, of many other Things that he 
 did to fet off this Chateau ; fince, by what has been already 
 faid, it is eafy to comprehend that thele Repairs muft coit 
 twice as much as the Houle did when it was fir ft bought, 
 but nothing was too much for a generous Man, and one in 
 Love, to do. The fpace of two Months was too little to 
 efteét all this in, and the leaft Time it could poflibly be 
 done in, with the utmoft diligence, was Two and a halÇ 
 for the Count found every Day fomething new to do. 
 Neither Valerios Father, nor himie If, whatever Defires they 
 might have, knew the leaft of what was done, but had that 
 Deference for the Count, as to let him entirely follow his 
 own Fancy, and therefore would not go about to interrupt 
 him till all was over. 
 
 But before I come to fpeak of that,' I ought to acquaint 
 you what happen'd moll important during thefe two Months 
 and a half, for you muft oclieve the Counts Love, which 
 was none of the moll moderate, made lome considerable 
 Progreis in that time. He waited Night and Day for lome 
 favourable Occafion to advance ir, and not long after one 
 happen'd, which was, the coming of the old Woman to 
 the Count's Houle, to enquire for a Mufick-Book of î r ahrk'^ 
 The Count took her afide, and enquir'd of her how his Mi- 
 ftrefs did, when this Idiot, who had been altogether won 
 
 (by the 200 Ducats, told him all he could défi re. She 
 K k 2 wî* 
 
5 oo The Lije- and Anions Part I. 
 
 was eafily prevails upon to carry a frefli Letter to her Lady ; 
 and the Count, not caring to. be thought ungrateful, gave 
 her a large Gold Ring, which was enough to gain her en- 
 tirely to his IntereíV. Eleonora receiv'd tins Letter more 
 eafily ^than the Count could have imagind ihe would; the 
 old Woman was not chid for bringing it, neither was ihe 
 forbid to bring any more, but only defir'd not to fay any- 
 thing to any Body that ihe had brought this. She had more 
 Difcrction than to do that, tho', God knows, ihe had not 
 much. She could have heartily willi'd her Lady would 
 have return'd lome Anfwer, but the Time was not come 
 fqr that. Tlie Count undemanding by this fort of Confidente ; 
 who came on purpofe to acquaint him with the Succefs of 
 her Commiifion, how well his Letter had been receiv'd, 
 took itfor a good Omen, and thought he liad, gain d fufli- 
 cient Ground for once. This made him make a fécond At- 
 tempt, and lend another Letter, finding the old GovernAnte 
 entirely diipos'd to ferve him. He defir'd her to ufe her 
 bert Endeavours to get her Lady to fend him a Word or 
 two in Anfwer, or at leait fome imall Token, that he 
 might be iatisfied his Preiumption was not altogether difa- 
 greeable to her. The young Lady was not more cruel in 
 reí peer to this fécond Letter, than ihe was to the firit ; for 
 not being able to witMand the Importunities of the old 
 Gentlewoman, and, perhaps, Ihe was glad ihe would make 
 them, ihe yielded to lend the Count a Flower. The Prelent 
 youl fay was not great, but pray what can diere be ettecin d 
 Little in Love ? What is there that is not thought -truly 
 Great, when it comes from a Perfon one fincerely loves, be 
 the Value of it what it will ? To have known tlie Truth of ' 
 this, you fhould have ask'd the Count the Moment he re- ■ 
 ceiv'd it. He would have told you, he was lb traniported 
 with Joy at the Receipt of it, that it was not poifible for 
 him to cxpreis it. The old Woman was exceedingly well 
 Iatisfied ilie bad executed her Commiihon fuccefsfully, both 
 in reipect to her felf, and the Count, whom ihe expected a 
 good Reward from. Tlie Count's Paflion daily encreas'd, 
 and at length began to have fome efte¿t upon Eleonoras 
 Heart. The Billet-douxs went continually, and if there 
 was no Anfwer, there came at leaii fome Flower, or fuch- 
 like Thing, which was inilead of one. At length ihe; 
 could keep her felf from writing no longer, and what fol-* 
 
 lows 
 
-Boot ill. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 501 
 
 lows was the occafion of it, or rather a Pretence for it. 
 The Count following the Impctuofity of his Paillon, thought 
 of nothing ib much as railing that Family, and confequent- 
 ly would needs do iomething to make the Brother caly, 
 becaufe he knew he was his Sifter's Darling. He under- 
 ftood there was a Poft vacant in the Sacred Palace, and 
 thought that would do very well for Valerio. This Poll 
 was honourable, and brought in a greater Revenue than 
 Places are wont to do in this Country; W*t what pleas' J 
 him moil: was, that it was in the Gift of one of his Uncles, 
 who lov'd him entirely, and whole Heir he was alio to be. 
 He refolv'd to lofe no Time, but went immediately and 
 beg'd it, and obtain'd it eafily enough. Having had this 
 Succefs, he determin'd to oblerve lome Mea lures with 
 Valerio, and not make him the Piefent immediately. He 
 gave Valentine Orders how he would have Things manag'd. 
 Valentine no iboner faw my Friend but he took him afide, 
 and told him there was Inch a confiderable Poft vacant, 
 that it was in the Gift of fuch a Cardinal, and that if he 
 would but ask it of the Count, he did not doubt but he 
 could procure it for him, being the Cardinals Nephew. 
 This Propolàl fill'd Valerios Heart with Joy, but the Poft 
 being fo confiderable, and the Count having already done fo 
 much for his Family, he could not have the Aflbrance to 
 ask it. He own'd at laft to Valentine, he had not the 
 Courage to defire fo great a Favour j but Valentine, on the 
 contrary, us'd a great marry Arguments to perlwade him to 
 it, and told him all the Scruples he objected were nothing 
 in refpe<ft to fuch a Man as the Count, who was truly ge- 
 nerous ,• that every Day did not offer fuch Opportunities 
 as this ; that he might have Reafon to repent feverely if 
 he negleéted this ; and, in fine, it was what an honeft 
 Man might very reaionably make ulc of to advance his 
 Fortune. All thefe Realbns above half prevail'd on Va- 
 lerio, yet he gave Valentine to underftand at the fame time, 
 he could not attempt it, unlefs he would be lb kind as to 
 break the Matter to the Count for him. Valentine was very 
 jglad to hear him lay fo, and prorrer'd his Service immediately. 
 They went together and found the Count dreifing, when 
 Valentine, not ltaying till Valerio fpoke, open'd the Cafe, as 
 he had promis'd. The Count with his nidifièrent Air, as 
 if he knew nothing of the Matter, turned about to Valerio. 
 
 Kk 3 and 
 
5©s The Lije and Anions Parti. 
 
 and faid, If that Port was really vacant, and not already 
 difpos'd of, he did not doubt but he could obtain it for 
 him j which faid, he turnd the Difcourle to fomewhat 
 clfe. I came in at the fame time, for fcarce any thing was 
 done without me, but the Polt was no more talk'd of, yet 
 as he went out, and after we had taken leave of the Count, 
 Valerio told me the whole Story. I anfwer'd, it would be 
 a fortunate Thing for him if he could bring it to bear, but 
 that thefe fort of Affairs ought by no means to be neglected ; 
 that there were always Thofe that waited for them, and 
 therefore he would do well to go immediately and fee 
 whether the Place was vacant or not, and accordingly ac- 
 quaint the Count. He laid, he was ;uft then going to his 
 Father, who underftood thofe Affairs better than he, and 
 vrhofe Advice he would rely upon, as he was in Duty 
 oblig'd to do. The good old Gentleman hearing his Son's 
 Fortune was fo likely to be made, went immediately with 
 him to knew how the Cale Hood, but was not a little 
 mortified to hear the Poft had been difpos'd of the Day be- 
 fore, without being able to learn to whom. Whilit the 
 whole Family was under great Trouble for this Diiappoint- 
 ment, Valentine came and brought the Letters-Patents from 
 the Count gratis. To pretend to defcribe the Turn of Joy 
 upon this Occafion, is impoflible. Now Eleonora could no 
 longer forbear declaring her Obligations to the Count, lince 
 ihe law how he did Things, and how he had in fo lhort a 
 time confer'd fo many Favours on her whole Family, with- 
 out any Oftentation, or taking the leall Notice of it him- 
 fdf. This lhe did, tho' ihe knew nothing of what was 
 done in the Country, which was a far greater Obligation, 
 as it afterwards áppear'd to be. In ihort, lhe thought, not- 
 withftanding all the Decorum lhe had hitherto obfervd, 
 that ihe lhould be one of the moil ungrateful Women in 
 the World, and unworthy of the Kindnefles ihe had re- 
 ceiv'd, if ihe did not do ibmething extraordinary for the 
 Count, fince all he had done for her Family was in like 
 manner extraordinary. She then refolv'd to make her Ac- 
 knowledgments to him by the following Letter, which ihe 
 feat by faltatins, The Letter ran thus: 
 
 " I caa« 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarachc. 503 
 
 " I cannot, my Lord Count, refufe my Heart the Satis- 
 " faction of diffufing it felf in Acknowledgments, fince 
 " you have ib generoufly diftus'd yours in Benefits towards 
 " our whole Family. IF I tell you, I have all the El teem 
 " for you that Woman can have for the moft compleat 
 " Cavalier, and even all that one can conceive for the 
 " beft Friend, methinks you ought to be fatisfied with my 
 " Gratitude ; but I fear you defire fomething more, and am 
 " afraid, left in proportion to your Favours Iihould grant 
 " more than I ought to do in Juftice to my felf. How 
 " difficult it is, my Lord, not to exceed in ones Sentiment?, 
 " when one has to do with one that obíer ves no Meafures 
 
 in making People feniible. Mine will always go fo far 
 u as to honour and cfteem you as highly as you de- 
 " ferve, but if they lhould proceed yet higher, and pre- 
 " fume to love, they would make me the moft unhappy 
 " Creature upon God's Earth. Sec, my Lord, what it is 
 " you endeavour at, while you only think to procure me 
 " Happinefs. I know who you are, and who I my felf 
 " am. We are not born for each other. I have fomctimes 
 " thought I could have wifti'd you a Shepherd, and, it 
 " may be, you may have wiih'd me a Great Lady, but our 
 £ Willies will never alter us. Let us continue then as we 
 :c are, and be contented with our Deftiny. It will avail 
 :t us little to think to force it. It is more eafy and leis 
 " dangerous to iubmit to it. For my part, I will entirely 
 " bound mine with the Pleafure I have in telling you, that 
 " Ï am, 
 
 Afy Lord j 
 
 Your Lordfliips moft humble 
 
 and moft obedient Servant, 
 
 Eleonor*. 
 
 You may conclude, the Day the Count receiv'd this Let- 
 ter from his Fair Miftrels was a Feftival to him,, which he 
 celebrated with iüch Traniports of Joy, that none but as 
 great a Lover as himfclf can imagine. Every Body plainly 
 perceiv'd it, without having it 'in their Power to gueis at 
 the Reafon of it ; and Valerio and his Father coming at 
 that Time to pay thçir Acknowledgments for the late Favour 
 
 K k 4 they 
 
ço4 The Lije and Aftions Parti. 
 
 they had receiv'd, which the old Gentleman calfd, The 
 Re-eftablifhment of his Honour and Fortune, the Count 
 receiv'd them with that Air of Satisfaction and Civility, 
 that it look'd rather as if he had been oblig'd to them, than 
 they to him. 
 
 Some few Days after, the Eftate and Houfe were wholly 
 finiüYd, and theWorkmen were difmifs'd, when the Count told 
 Valerio, he might now, if he pleas'd, go and fee what was 
 wanting ; for as every one had his particular Tañe in thefe 
 fort of Things, he did not know but fomething might 
 Jiave been omitted. The Father and Son went accordingly 
 in great hafte, and they were equally confounded at what 
 they law. The good old Man knew not where he was. 
 He no longer knew his Eftate, and lefs his Houfe. Every 
 thing furpris'd him. He walk'd to and fro, and each Step 
 prefented fomething new to him, he every where found fome- 
 what to admire. He was at his Wits-end to think that alL 
 this could be perfected in fo fhort a time, and yet he had 
 not feen half of what there was to be feen. In a Word, 
 he look'd upon all as Enchantment. His Son was no leis fur- 
 pris'd, but he could not forbear laughing at the many Comical 
 Exclamations and Geitures of his Father. At length, after 
 the good old Man had almoft kill'd himfelf with going up 
 Stairs and down inceifantly, and fpent the whole Day, 
 which was neverthelefs too little to fee all, not being 
 able to walk any longer, they remounted their Horfes an4 
 return d to the City/ By the Way, the Father told his 
 Son, he would have him go and wait upon the County and 
 tell him from him, that he did not do himfelf the Honour 
 of coming to kifs his Hands, becaufe, after what he had 
 feen, he Knew not what to lay, and therefore it was beft 
 for him to retreat as well as he could. Valerio had not oc- 
 cafion for fo much Difcourfe with the Count, and as for his 
 Father, he could not oblige his Lordihip more than by 
 doing what he had done, long Compliments being what 
 this Lord dreaded more than any Thing. He turn'd all into 
 Raillery with Valerio, who made him laugh, till Tears came 
 into his Eyes with the Relation of his Father's Aftonifh- 
 ment, who, he faid, could not believe that any thing was 
 Natural, but all Enchantment. I then was ient for, and 
 join'd with them .in their Merriment about this Eftate. We 
 dind, and after Dinner we Ipent our Time partly in little 
 
 Amufe- 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 50g 
 
 Amufemcnts, and partly in jMufick While we were pre- 
 paring for the Confort, which was towards Night, a Page 
 ,came and told the Count, two young Cavaliers below defird 
 to be admitted to hear it. The Count bid him wait upon 
 them up. The Page replied, they were Mask'd. No mat- 
 ter, quoth the Count, if they want only Mufick, we ihall, 
 I hope, have wherewithal to content them. Then the two 
 Cavaliers appear'd, and the Count roiè up to pay his Civi- 
 lities, feeming as if he did not know them. They were 
 very magnificently drels'd, and having taken their Places 
 without much Ceremony, they applied themfelves to hear 
 us. The Count taking his Instrument, we took ours, and 
 diverted them for about half an Hour, at the end of which, 
 this being not the End of their coming, they rofe up and 
 gave us to undcritand they had enough. As they were 
 amufing themfelves about the Room, the Count whifperd 
 us in the Ear, laughing, that this was not the Bufinels they 
 came about ; therefore, quoth he, do you play on, and I'll 
 go take a Turn or two in the Garden with them, and get 
 rid of them as foon as I can to come to you again. We 
 beginning to find how the Cafe iiood, dehYd him to dir- 
 imís us, but he would not, telling us, we ihould not o- 
 blige him by that, for he hop'd by our means to get rid of 
 them the iooner. But he could not be fo good as his 
 Word, for he was with them, who were by" the by Ce- 
 linda and her Coufm, above two Hours, that is to fay, till 
 fuch time as it was dark Night. We heard them laugh 
 heartily from the Hall where we were, and could eaiily 
 perceive they were all in very good Humour. As for the 
 Count, nothing lefs could be expected from him, but to 
 linda, Hie came altogether on another Account ; yet 
 fooner faw the Count but her Heart was fatisfied, and.*/):; 
 forgot the Complaints and Reproaches ihe came to u, 
 againft him ; and the Count, on his part, knew lo well how 
 to humour her, and lull afleep the Grievances fhe lüffer'd 
 on account of Jealoufy, that ihe became at length per- 
 fectly eafy, infomuch, that when ihe and her Coufin found 
 themfelves alone with the Count, they both unmask'd. Ce- 
 linda, who thought to give a new Uneafinefs to die County 
 made ufe of all her Charms for that purpofe, bur without 
 Succeis. His Lordlhip, however, told us afterwards, he 
 had much ado to Secure his Heart, îhç appear 'd fo extra- 
 ordinary 
 
çotf The Ufe and Añions Part I. 
 
 ordinary Charming. This occafion'd the faying a great 
 many fine Things to her, which pleas'd her highly. Not 
 long after a fine Collation was ferv'd up, and fo having 
 reciprocally utter'd a great many Gallantries, foft Things, 
 merry Whimfies, Kindnefl'es and Proteftations, to ice one 
 another often on both fides, the two Cavaliers took their 
 Leaves and departed, but which was not till the Confidente 
 had above ten times remember'd her Coufin it was time to 
 be gone, and that they ran fome Hazard in continuing there 
 any longer ; but what can a Woman fear that is fo much in 
 love as this Lady was ? 
 
 The Comt no iboner faw himfelf at liberty than he came 
 to us again, and found us as he had left us, with our Arms 
 in our Hands, but we mult foon quit them to go to Sup- 
 per, which was now ready. Valerio, upon his Return 
 nome, found his Sifter's Mind fo taken up with what her 
 Father had told her about the Eftate and Houfe, that ihe 
 was greatly impatient to fee both. There was no great 
 Difficulty to peifwade the good old Gentleman to go along 
 with her, for he no fooner heard her Defires, but he fent 
 thither ibme Furniture and other Neceflaries, that they 
 might be more at their Eafe, in cafe they were 1 minded tq 
 continue there fome Days. Valerio told me of this, and Í 
 acquainted die Count with it by way of Difcourie, who, 
 after a little confidering, told me, he alfo had a mind to 
 go and fee that Eftate, to know if the Undertakers had ib 
 well lucceeded as was pretended, and to furprife Valeria's 
 Father, by coming to dine with him unexpectedly. This 
 faid, he bid me get my felf ready next Morning, and we 
 ihould go together. 1 promis'd to do fo ? but thought, at 
 the fame time ? I ihould not a little diloblige my Friend 
 Valerio, if I did not give him notice of it. I did it by a 
 few Lines ; fo that when we came, which was much about 
 Dinner-time, we found all Things in good order, and a 
 neat, tho' not an extraordinary Dinner ready to let on the 
 Table. Tho' the old Gentleman and his Son feem'd greatly 
 furpris'd to fee us, yet the Count law plainly enough I liad 
 done the Duty of a Friend, and, perhaps, he had a mind 
 I ihould do fo, therefore laid nothing to me of it. We 
 din'd very well, and afterwards, till the Hour was come 
 for walking, fpent our Time in vifiting the Houfc, where 
 the Comt inienfibly ¡ e ¿ us f rom ne Room to another, 
 
 dii- 
 
Book III. of Guzman cTAlfarache. 507 
 
 difcovering feveral pretty Conveniences, which we could 
 not before fee. Among others, he ihew'd us the little 
 Clofets in Eleonoras Appartment, which was fomewhat 
 extraordinary rare, and which no Body knew what to 
 make of, becaufe there appear'd no Entrance, nor any Lock 
 and Key, which was iupphed by feveral hidden Springs. 
 The fineft Paintings being here, and more efpecially the 
 various Portraits of the Fair Eleonora ; the Count had no 
 fooner open d them, but every Body was aitonilh'd with 
 Admiration. Tis here indeed, laid I, feeing no Body elfe 
 fpoke, that true Enchantment appears, and this Chateau 
 leems to have been built by the Fairies. The manner I fpoke 
 this in, made all the Company ready to laugh, fo that we 
 pafs'd all of a Hidden from a lèvere Silence to great Mirth, 
 For we all fpoke together, and every one laid ibmething to 
 the Advantage of the Count. Eleonora : knew her felf at ririt 
 Sight by her Picuires, and was greatly furpris'd at it. As 
 for the Father and Brother, whether it was they were 
 bufied elfewhere. or that they thought there was fome Dan- 
 ger in looking that way. they did not fo much as confider 
 thefe Portraits in the leait ; but, for my part, I foon found 
 them out, and could not fufhciently admire them. After 
 liaving run over the whole Houle from top to bottom, we 
 at lait ftop'd, to reft our feives in a fine Hall, which being 
 very proper for Instruments and the Voice, and Eleonoras 
 Lute Handing in the Cafe in a Corner, it gave us occaiion 
 to beg once more, that ihe would be pleas'd to divert the 
 Count and the Company with a Solo or two. To this ine 
 anlwer'd, we all knew ihe wanted no Entreaty the flrft 
 time we ask'd her» but now we were come to require a 
 fécond, there muit ibmething be done firft to oblige her to 
 it. We ask'd merrily what that Something was. She re- 
 plied, (but not without a Blulh) that ihe would gladly hear 
 the Count upon that Inltrument before ihe expos'd her felf 
 any more. I told her, that was but reafonable ; and as I 
 judg'd the Count would not refufe to comply with her Re- 
 queit, I prefented him the Lute. He acquitted himfelf like 
 one that underftood that Inltrument perfectly well, info- 
 much that both Eleonora and her Father, who knew it 
 rather better than his Daughter, were furpris'd at it. After 
 fiaving done, the Count returnd the Lute to the Fair Eleonora, 
 who play'd to us upon it far above half an Hour lèverai 
 
 new 
 
^o8 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 anew Pieces of Mufick, which he had never heard before, 
 and which were exceeding harmonious. As ihe was about 
 to lay down the Infiniment, her Brother ftopd lier, and 
 faid lhe ihould not get off ib, for he mutt have a Song 
 from her to divert the Company yet further. This trou- 
 bled her a little, and fhe would fain have excus'd it, but 
 her Father having whifper'd her two or three Words, Hie 
 took up her Lute again, and having tuned it to her Voice, 
 fung the following Air, which was the more welcome, in 
 that no Body thought fhe had ib fine a Voice as lhe appear'd 
 to have, and which, perhaps, could not be excell'd through- 
 out all Rome. 
 
 The A I R. 
 
 Bejiow clfewhere your pots' nous Jealoufy; 
 Cruel Fury, Cruel Fury to my Love and me. 
 JVo more my Heart ¡hall languijb, 
 
 Spirits be no more depreji: 
 Sweeteft Hope to chear my Anguifh, 
 
 Return into, return into my Breajl. 
 
 The Count was altogether in Raptures upon hearing this Air, 
 and íeernd to devour his Miftrefs with his Eyes as well as 
 Ears. It was indeed too much for one, that was already fo 
 charm'd with her Perlón, to be attack'd likewife by her Voice, 
 which he knew nothing of, but admir'd above all Things 
 in the World. She thought we were fatisfled with what 
 we liad heard, but I made my Court to the Count, that he 
 would be pleas 'd to entreat her to fing that Air once again, 
 which fhe did, and then the Count knew it to be an Air in 
 Vogue, compos'd by a great Mafter, but he could not ima- 
 gine whofe tiie Words were, for they p-leas'd him extreamlv. 
 He had a great mind to know, and Valerio, whom he ask d 
 the Secret of, told him they were his Sifter's, who fome- 
 times amus d her felf with making Words to Tunes. This 
 pleas'd the Count yet more, and he begd of me to defire 
 Valerio to give him a Copy of them. The Time for walk- 
 ing being come, we took feveral Turns in the Garden, 
 which was wonderful fine, and at our coming in again, 
 the Sun being almoft down, and all the Family ready to 
 go to Bed, the Count faw it was high time to take Leave? 
 
 whica 
 
BoúklII. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 50^ 
 
 which doing, he invited the Father and his Family to come 
 next Morning betimes and partake of the Diverfion of a 
 Filhing-boutjwhichhedefign'dtogive them in a large Pond 
 he had about half a League from his Houfe of Pjhiano, 
 where lie judg'd there mult be good Fiih, becauie he had 
 not filh'd there for at leaft a Year. He faid, if they -would 
 be fo kind as to come, he would be lure to fend his Coach 
 for them in the Morning early. The good old Gentleman 
 lov'd theie fort of Country Diverfions extreamly, and if 
 he had not, he could not have refus'd the Count what he 
 dcfir'd of him. He told him confequently, he would be 
 fure to wait upon him, and bring his Son along with him. 
 Al 1 this while there was not a Word faid of Eleonor?. • but 
 the Father and Brother going, they could not difpence with 
 carrying her along with them, fince ihe lov'd Country 
 Sports as well as "either of them. The Count and Ï taking 
 Horfe immediately, we i'oon got to his Houfe, where we 
 found Supper ready. Next Morning, rifing very betimes, 
 we went to the Pond to fee if any Care had been taken 
 about the Fiihing, and we found almoft every Thing in 
 order, there being twenty expert Fiihermen and Peafants, 
 and Valentine at the Head of them, who had always the 
 general Orders. This Pond was one of the fíneít within 
 ten Leagues of this City, not only for its Largeneis, but its 
 Beauty and clear Water, for its Bordure of Flowers, its 
 Grais-Plots, and a thoufand other Ornaments. But what 
 is yet more curious, and at the fame time more delight- 
 ful, was a fort of Enchanted Caftle, which floated upon 
 the Water, and charm'd at firft Sight -with its variety of 
 Paintings, and Gold that glittcr'd every where. I call it 
 Enchanted, bccaule it was built upon rontons, and could 
 be eafily mov'd any where without any Bodies being feen. 
 It had neither Oars, Sails, nor Tackle in view, yet two 
 Men only, that lay conceafd, could move it by means of 
 two Ropes, tho' it was a very large Wooden Machine. 
 It had a great Hall in the middle, which was to eat in, 
 with a large Dome at top, round which there was a Gallery 
 for Mufick. At the four Corners of this Hall there were 
 four Clofets in the Form of Towers, each of which had a 
 Hanging-Balcony, all cover'd with a Treillis and Muicat- 
 Vines, which -was a great Trouble to maintain. There 
 were two large Entrances into this CaíÜe, which anfwejr'd 
 
 to 
 
5 1 o The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 to two Avenues, that came up to the two Ends of the Pond. 
 As the Company came commonly thro' one of theie 
 Avenues, 'tis generally to one of theie Ends of the Pond 
 that the Machine mov'd. When we found all Things 
 were ready, we enter'd into one of thefe Avenues, thro' 
 which we Knew the Company would come ; and we had 
 not walk'd above a quarter of a League before we faw the 
 Coach coming, Valerio having raisctnis Father and Sirtes 
 betimes, not only becaufe he would not make the Count 
 flay, but by reaion he had a mind to be at the beginning 
 of the Diverfion himielf. For the Count's Part, who was 
 well acquainted with the nice Humour of the Father, he 
 was more than ordinarily afraid his Eleonora was not with 
 them, efpecially when he obferv'd they came fo early, and 
 he could not Help acquainting me with it : But he foon 
 after law her in the Coach, which afforded him all imagi- 
 nable Delight. He neverthelefs feem'd furpris'd at the 
 Sight of her, telling her he could not have believ'd fhe 
 would have given her lelf the Trouble to come fo far, and, 
 that, above all, fhe would have rife fo very betimes for a 
 Trifle. Her Father anfwer'd, Twas a Diverfion ihe had 
 never feen, and moreover 'twould have been melancholy 
 to have left her alone in the Houfe. We were no fooner 
 feen coming, but the Machine began to move, and it was 
 got to the Borders of the Pond almoit as foon as we were 
 come thither. The Father, with his Son and Daughter, 
 were greatly aftonifh'd to fee a Houfe float, and come to 
 receive them at the brink of the Pond, without any Body's 
 being percciv'd to move it. We were no fooner got into 
 it, but it return d to the Place from whence it came, which 
 was the middle of the Pond, where the Anchors were no 
 fooner caft out but it remain'd fix'd. Both Eleonora and 
 her Father werecharm'd with theNeatnefs and Magnificence 
 of this little Building ; but, as they were not willing to 
 lofc any more Time, they refer'd the confidering of it till 
 after the Filling was over. The Fiihermen were already in. 
 the Water, or in their Boats ; and as we had a mind not 
 to ftand idle, Valerio and I got into one Boat, and the 
 Count and Valentine into another, to give Orders. I will 
 not pretend to defcribe all the Plealurc we had, that being 
 impoflible; it is furncient to tell you, that never People 
 were better diverted, for we took Fiih in great Abundance, 
 
 *** and 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 5 1 1 
 
 and fome that were exceeding^ large. Eleonora, and her 
 Father, who w r ere plac'd in a Gallery with a Carpet before 
 them, had all the Share in the Divcrfion they could defire, 
 for they law every thing that pafs'd, and a good Filh was 
 no fooner taken, but it was carried up and presented to 
 them. Never had Eleonora fo much Pleafure before, but 
 however great it was to us all, we muft quickly abandon 
 it, not only becaufe our Men began to be tir'd, but by 
 reaibn the Sun incommoded us fo much, that it was hardly 
 to be endur'd. Dinner-time being at length come, we en- 
 teral with the Count into the Chateau to refrelh our ielve? y 
 and faugh at the many Accidents had happend during the 
 Fiihing, when the Fiihermcn, to divert the Company, 
 play'd a thou land Tricks with one another. All thefe little 
 Stories, and the Pleafure of feeing the Paintings of this 
 little Chateau, having bufied us till Dinner-time, the Machine 
 began to move a fécond time, to carry us to a Houie where 
 an Entertainment was prcpar'd for us, and which had been 
 built for that, and to lerve for a Magazine for our Fifhing- 
 Tackle and Equipage. We had a noble Entertainment, 
 confiderrng wc were but four in Company. There was 
 no Want of Filh or Flclh, every Thing abounded both for 
 Eating and Drinking. I was at a Lois how we fliould 
 ipend the Afternoon till it was time for us to go home, 
 when, after an Hours plealant Converfation, two Lutes, a 
 Viol and Violin, were brought us, and were what we were 
 wilhing for, none of us being without Mufick-Books. 
 The ririt Lute was prefentcd to Eleonora ; the next to the 
 Count, which he ofttr'd out of Complaiiance to the Fa- 
 ther, but the good Man excus'd himiclf in the belt manner 
 he cou'd, and dcfir'd the Count to make ufe of it .* Valerio 
 ièiz'd the Viol, and 1 the Violin ; fo we began as fine and 
 agreeable a Contort as we ecu Id have heard in Rome, which 
 la (ted till 'twas time for us to retire, and we had notice 
 the Coach was ready. Valeria's Father, out of a Compli- 
 ment, pray'd the Count to give Leave that they might ac- 
 company him to his Houle, becaufe it was in their Way 
 home, at lealt not far out of it. The Lover defir'd no- 
 thing more; however, he civilly pretended to excufe him 
 that Trouble, yet in luch manner, that the Father found 
 'twou'd not be taken ill if he did. So »ve let out all to- 
 gether, and drove io, that we arriv'd at the Count's in a 
 
 little 
 
5 1 2 The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 little more than a quarter of an Hour. The Sun being flili 
 very high, and three Hours to Night, the Count defir'd 
 Valerio i Father, who had but an Hours driving home, to 
 flay a little, tho' 'twere but while he and his Daughter 
 cou'd fee his Houfe and Gardens. The young Lady 
 fhewing a great Defire to do fo, the old Man did not need 
 many Entreaties. They alighted out of their Coach, and 
 firft view'd the outiide, which was moft magnificent, tho' 
 the infide was very fine. The Parterres, the Fountains, Walks 
 and Arbours, are as pleafant as in any Nobleman's Villa 
 near Rome. No Body had better Flowers or Fruit, nor in 
 greater Abundance, as well to pleafe the Tarte as the Smell, or 
 entertain the Sight. I will not ftand to tell you a hundred 
 loft Things the Comt found Opportunities to fay to the Fail 
 Lady in this Walk ; I fhould not have done in lefs Time than 
 it took up. You may eafily guefs, by the Sequel of this 
 Story, what he talk'd of, and how he pafs'd his Time. He 
 cou d court as well as any Man ; and I can ailure you, he 
 law his Affairs pretty well advane'd before they parted ; 
 for tho' Eleonoras Father was always at her Elbow, and 
 very cautious of trufting her out of his Hearing, yet the 
 Comt open'd himfelf to her, and ihe gave him an Anfwer 
 without any ones oblerving them, or knowing what they 
 faid. But they had not walk'd long, before an Opportu- 
 nity prefented for the Count to make his Compliments in 
 Publick. They were going down a very curious Alley, to 
 fee a fine Arbour that was there. The Count headed the 
 Company, and was about to enter it with his Miftrefs, 
 when on a iiidden two Ladies bolted out in Masks, to 
 the Surprife of us all, one of them breaking from the 
 other, who would have itop'd her, ran againft Eleonora^ 
 and puftYd her lb rudely with her Elbow, that ihe recoil'd 
 two or three Steps. Eleonora thought fhe could not revenge 
 her felf better for fuch an Infult, than by burfting out into 
 a Fit of Laughter. The Count was terribly enrag'd at this, 
 and could not help ihewing his Refentment by crying out 
 in an angry Tone, 'Tü too much, too much, Madam : Yes, 
 replied the Lady, turning her Head afide with a fcornful 
 Air, 'Tù too much for a little Infignifkant Cuiz,en. Eleonora 
 was more nettled at this Reproach, tho 5 it did not affecl 
 her, than at the Blow of her Elbow, and replied in as 
 fierce a Tone as ihe, Thofe little Infignificant Citizens, are not* 
 
 Jo 
 
Book III of Guzman d'AIfarache. 513 
 
 fi Infamom as thofe that come and feel Men in their very Houfes. 
 The Lady anfwer'd, I fee you are veil provided , you have two 
 Cloaks : And if yon have lut $ne, fays Eleonora, you are an ho- 
 nefter Woman than I tale you for. The Lady laid no more, 
 either believing there were too many againit hçr, or feeing 
 her Companion, who was not willing to quarrel with the 
 Count, had left her, and was already almoit out of Sight j 
 ib Hie follow'd her, and both got into their Coach, which 
 waited for them a little way off. The Count was vex'd to 
 the Heart that any Adventure ihould have done his Love 
 for Eleonora a Prejudice. He was nenfive and melancholy 
 after it, which fhe obferving, laid, We arc certainly come; 
 here very imlealbnably ; Say rather, Madam, replied the 
 Count y you have deliver'd mc from a great deal of Trouble, 
 but I am forry 'twas at your Expence. The Miichief, laid 
 flie fmiling, is not very great; theie are Things one Wo- 
 •ft>an ought to forgive another, and 'tis better to fuffcr 
 than to do them. There are foolifh Women, replied the 
 Count, as well as wife, and all Men of Senlè defpile thç 
 former, as much as they adore the latter. Thçy then 
 chang'd the Difcouric, which this Accident had made more 
 itrious, and lefs agreeable, than it had been all the Dai be-r 
 fore. The Arbour we went to fee, was the fmeft about thç 
 Houle; there was a fort of Bath and Fountain in it, 
 Grafs-Beds and Scats, together with a hundred Ornaments 
 of Ever-Greens, witn which we were lb charm'd, that wc 
 itay'd there fome time. Then the Count invited the Company 
 to go to another which was as fine, and there we found 3. 
 delicious Collation of Sweetmeats, Fruit and Wine, Time 
 generally flies away in fuch Entertainments ; and bçfbrç we 
 were hardly w r ell leated, Valerios Father, perceiving it grew 
 late, began to íhew íome Uneafinefs, and thanking the 
 Count^ for the Honour he had done him, defir'd Leave tp 
 continue his way home ; fo taking Eleonora and Valerio 
 with him, he went into his Coach ; which, after mutual 
 Compliments on all fides, drove away. We got a HprTe- 
 back, accompanied them a Mile or two ; then bidding them 
 farewell till next Day, we rode to Town. 
 
 As foon as we were by our lèlvcs, the Count could not 
 help dilcovering how vex'd he was at the Rudenels of thofe 1 
 Two Ladies, especially Celinda's extravagant Behaviour; but- 
 knowing the imperious Humour of tnat Woman, and of 
 
 I 1 what 
 
4 H The Life and Aftiom * Part I. 
 
 what Follies fhe had been guilty, he was afraid of quarel- 
 ling with her, left Eleonoras Reputation might fuflfer, 
 which was as dear to him as his Life. He had taken no- 
 tice how the Father was concern d at the Affront that was 
 ofTcr'd his Daughter, not fo much for his Daughter's fake, 
 whom he knew to be above it, as for the Count's, who he 
 law was in Pain about it ; telling him, his Daughter's Ho- 
 nour would not fufter by a Blow from a Woman, whofe 
 Heart 'twas plain was touch'd, and he believ'd fhe had Rea- 
 fon to do what ihe did. As for me, I knew the Two 
 Nymphs immediately, I had been a Servant of Veronica's, 
 and all die Town knew her Coufin ran after the Count. I 
 let Valerio know fomething of the Matter, who , like a 
 Man that knew the World, only laugh'd at it, and was 
 the Perfon who contributed moft towards bringing the 
 .Company into good Humour again by^ rallying upon it, 
 for whicn the Count was extreamly pleas'd with him. The 
 Count finding I knew the Two Ladies,told me, all his Con- 
 cern was for tear they fhould know Eleonora or her Father, 
 which he could not think they did by what Cdinda fakL in 
 calling her Citizen, her Father paiïing for a very good Uen- 
 tlemanj but he was not long in iufpence about it, for 
 when he came home, Valentine , whom he had order'd to in- 
 
 Suire what thefe Ladies came for of their Servants, told us, 
 iat Qlinda had fent her Lackey, a iharp Lad, to know 
 where the Count was, who underftood by fome of the 
 moft indifcreet of his Servants he was gone a Fiihing, and 
 alfo the Particulars of what had pais'd, and who were with 
 him. Upon which thofe Ladies refolv'd to wait for him at 
 his return, believing he would not bring his Company to 
 his Country-Houfe^ becaufe her Lackey was told he did 
 not defign it. The Count was thoughtful upon hearing 
 this News, forefeeing the Confequence of fuch a Woman's 
 Malice as Celinda's. To prevent it, he went early next Mor- 
 tiing to Veronica ; who, as foon as ihe faw him, would have 
 laid all the Blame on her Coufin, and told him ail the Mat- 
 ter as it happen'd, and with what Defign they came there, 
 only for a Walk, not thinking to find any Company there $ 
 ihe confirm'd all Valentine had faid, and how, by means of 
 one of his Lackeys,they came to know what had pafs'd at the 
 Fiihing, and that, notwithftandingCe//»^ had call'd Eleonora 
 Citizen, ihe knew very well who ihe wasj and tho' ihe 
 
 had 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 415 
 
 had not feen her before, had often heard of her, Camilla 
 her Husband's Lieutenant-Colonel being in love with her. 
 She told him then, what a furious Paflion her Coufin was 
 in all the way home, and how mad Eleonoras laft Words 
 had made her. The Count was very filent all the while, 
 But when Veronica had done fpeaking, he pray'd her to go 
 to her Coufin's from him, and ask her how ihe intended to 
 live with him for the future, either as a Friend or otherwifej 
 and he would have her confider well with her felf, for he 
 could be as troubleibme to her as fhe was to him. Veronica 
 went immediately and found her Coufin a little calmer, 
 having eas'd her ielf by fending for Cantillo, and telling hirri 
 all lhe knew, and more of the Count's Amours with Eleor 
 nora. CamUlo was one of thofe Bravo's, who had rather 
 Shoot a Man thro* a Window as he país d along the Streets, 
 than fight him fairly, or aiïaiïïnate him at Night arm'd 
 Cap-a-pe with two Cut-Throats to fécond him. ríe had al» 
 ready been guilty of two or three fuch notable Actions. He 
 was born to an fcftate, and with his Money purchas'd his 
 Commiflion, which had more than once iav'd him frorri 
 the Puniihment he delcrv'd for his Raihnefs and Violence, 
 tho' it had often drain'd his Pocket to get clear of the 
 Troubles his Rage brought him into. He was handfome. 
 but a great Boafter and Talker, having in all Things a goo» 
 Opinion of himfelf, which is common in Men of his Make. 
 He had been in Love with Eleonora two Years, his Pafliori 
 refetnbling the Tranfports of a Mad-man more than the 
 Addreflesof a Lover. He at flrft heétor ? d, and made a Bu- 
 ttle, threatning to kill all his Rivals ; which had fuch an 
 Effect, that they all gave way to him. However, he was ner 
 ver the happier for it with his Miitrefs, who, to avoid feeing 
 him, had for a long time kept within Doors, not fo much 
 as going to Church on Holidays. Upon which he roanj 
 and rav d,threatning to kill himlèlf if lne did not come pur. 
 He would lie at her Door all Night to watch for an opppr* 
 tunity to fee her. Her Father, to get rid of his Impertinence- 
 threw himfelf at the Feet of a Cardinal fince dead, and 
 beg'd his Protection againft him. His Eminence fo relented 
 Camillo's Extravagance, with reipeel: to Eleonora, and lome 
 other Faults he "had committed, that 'twas debated whe- 
 ther he fliould not be broke, and baniúYd the Ecclefntü- 
 caj State, He had notice of the Danger he was in teforf 
 
 h I ? 'twas. 
 
4i 6 The Lije and Anions Part I. 
 
 twas too late to prevent it, and flood in need of all his 
 Friends Credit to defend himíeíf againft this Blow ; which 
 he did, but on Conditions that were very hard for him and 
 his Love, which were fignificd to him by his Colonel. 
 One among others was, that he ihould never think more of 
 Courting that young Gentlewoman , unleis in an honour- 
 able Way, and that his Defign was to marry her, and her 
 Friends confented to it ; and was forbidden to go thro' the 
 Street ihe liv'd in, or difturb any body who made Love to 
 her, upon Pain of loofing his Commiliion. This Sentence 
 ibmewnat abated the Fury of fo dreadful a Lover, for he 
 knew he had to do with judges, who would fliew him no 
 Mercy if he broke the leaii Article of the Treaty. Thus, if 
 he was not lefs Amorous, his Paflion became more mode- 
 rate. He durit not pafs by her Door in the Day-time, but 
 at Night he ipent whole Hours in watching up and down 
 before it ; and us'd to lie at an old Lieutenant's of his Regi- 
 ment, who had. two Rooms ready furniih'd in a Houfe 
 ib near Eleonoras Father's, that there was only a narrow 
 Lane between them : There he ftay'd all Night looking out 
 of the Window, as well to try if ^he could fee his Miftrefs. 
 as to obferve if any Rival came that Way. When he firit 
 courted her, he had no Thoughts of marrying her ; but 
 afterwards being better acquainted ■with the young Lady's 
 Virtue, and more in Love with her, and would willingly 
 have made the Propofition,had he not thought both the Fa- 
 ther and Brother would not have hearkend'to it.They were 
 fo offended with him for his furious Behaviour, that they 
 indin'd to it as little fince theSentence againft him,as before, 
 ib he endeavoured to gain their Efteem and Friendship by a 
 quite contrary Conduct : I mean, by Difcrction, Modera- 
 tion, and even Civility and Rclpect, which he ihew'd on 
 all Occafions when he thought they faw him, or could hear 
 of him. Thus the Father became well enough pleas'd with 
 him, only he did not think fit to make him his Son-in-law. 
 His Defire tc marry Eleonora encreas'd by the Addition that 
 was made to her Fortune on her Father's recovering a good 
 Eftate, for which he a long time was at Law. Her Brother 
 alió liad a very honourable and profitable Poft, fo that 
 Eleonora was now a good Match for any one. Twas on this 
 Account that he redoubled his Cares,and try'd all the Ways 
 fcie could tliink of to gain the Brother s good Will. He ap- 
 
 üear'J 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 4 1 7 
 
 pear'd fo chang'd in his Temper, that all the World admi- 
 red at it. And in this State was his Heart, when Celinda 
 troubfd it and his Brains with the dreadful News I have 
 before mention'd. She made the Matter worlè than it was, 
 which ihe had a way of doing, by a malicious Turn ilie 
 gave every Thing. She told all the Story of the Filhing, as 
 if ihe had been there prcfent, and of the Dinner alio, the 
 Walk and Collation, having liad it from one of the Count s 
 lackeys. She did all fhe could to railè this Lover's Jca- 
 loufy, too apt to take Fire of it felt' 'He turn'd pale, 
 trembl'd, and fell into fuch a violent Paflion, that he did 
 not know what he laid or did. When ihe had done this, 
 ihe was fatisfy'd, thinking fhe had done cnough,and lliould 
 fuddenly be reveng'd. Cimillo went away in fuch a Fury,ho 
 body could have imagin'd the Count and his Mi fhrefs would 
 live twenty four Hours after it ; at leaft Celinda hop'd he 
 would do lbmething or other that fhould ruin her Rival, 
 and oblige the Count to leave her. Veronica came to her a 
 Minute or two after Camillo left her : She acquitted her felf 
 of the Commi ilion /he had receiv'd like a Relation ani 
 Friend, knowing what ill Confequenccs might happen from 
 a Quarrel between a young Woman as Cetinda was, and a 
 Man of the Count's Quality. Her Coufm, tir'd with hcr 
 Arguinents on that Subject, interrupted her, laying, There 
 was no occaiion of fo much Advice, and fo many Reflecti- 
 ons j that Ihe had done what fhe relblvd to do ; that (he 
 knew the Count, and would never have any more to do 
 with him, nor think of him, nor fpeak to him as long as 
 ihe liv'd. Veronica anfwer'd , Twas very well: But if lhc 
 would act like a prudent Woman, Ihe lliould part with 
 him like good Friends, for the Count was able to oblige 
 her and her Family, especially her Husband, who might 
 expeót confiderable Services from him. Celinda made flight 
 of it 1 and Veronica taking Leave of her , returned home to 
 write the Count word in what Temper ihe found her ; but 
 ilie foften'd the Matter as much as ihe could out of kind- 
 nefs to her Kinfwoman, and to pleaiè this Lord. The Count; 
 and ihe let it ileep, as if there would no more come of it, 
 which was pardonable in him, becaufe he depended ou 
 what Veronica had laid ; but not in her, who was a Wo- 
 man that knew the World, and was acquainted with her 
 Çpufirfs Character andComplection, which was not likely 
 
 LI 3 to 
 
4 i 8 The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 to put up fuch an Affront. Women feldom go from vio- 
 lent Jealouly to Indifference, which Veronica would have 
 txrfwaded the Count was her Caiè. Tis the Jaft Thing a 
 Woman can do to forgive a Man that has deipis'd her. The 
 Count believing Veronica's Information, thought he had 
 laid enough to check Celinda, and make her hold her 
 Tongue. He Was impatient to write to Eleonora, who he 
 doubted not was vext at her unlucky Meeting with thofe 
 two Ladies, and the Scuffle that happen'd, which ihe was 
 apprehenfive would make a Noife in the Town. He began 
 lus Letter, by reprefenting how much he was forry for the 
 Ladies extravagant and rude Behaviour ; but he had taken 
 cafe ihe ihould be wifer for the future, and that the Thing 
 ihould go no farther. To which he added , That if he 
 could be fo happy as to have a Moment's Difcourfe with her, 
 lie would tell ner the whole Story of the Meeting, of which 
 íhe had innocently been the Caufe. The Count argud as 
 lie would have it ; but Eleonora had a Soul that was not to 
 be amus'd like thofe of other Women. HoweVer, ihe lov'd 
 the Count, tho' ihe hardly knew it, and was jealous at 
 the fame time, that to her own thinking Ihe did not know 
 ivhat Love or jealoufy was. She bluih'd, and chid her 
 felf for her W&iknefs ; but her Reflections only encreas'd 
 lier Difeafe, and her Brother blew the Fire into a Flame, 
 by telling her Glinda was one of the Beauties oí Rome, who, 
 as 'twas faid, Was paihonately in love with the Count. 
 Eleonora would fain have ask'd her Brother, whether the 
 Count was not in love with her too, but ihe could not 
 tell how to brins; it about, fearing ihe ihould leein too in- 
 
 Suifitive. The following Night Was a cruel one to her: 
 be was the firft that was awak'd in the Houiè, and the firit 
 ready to return to the City, where, as foon as ihe arriv'd, 
 ' ihe was thinking to write to the Count when (he received the 
 Billet he fent her, and her Anfwer, as Valentine told me, was 
 to this purpoiè r 
 
 " If to be belov'd by a Man of 4 Honour, as you are, can 
 !< injure the Reputation of a young Lady of my Charade^ 
 " I Ihould not iky to be told of it by the World. I know 
 fi£ how to tell my ielf, and, as plealànt or advantageous as 
 tc it might be to me, have Virtue enough to renounce it. 
 " But Love is no dime ,• 'tis Qpt always in our Power to 
 
 " love 
 
BookllL of Guzman cPAlfarache. 41^ 
 
 " love, or not to love, as we pleafe. If all the World" 
 * knew your PalTion for me, and that I cannot lee lb much 
 " Merit as is in you with Indifference ; what then ? Sooner 
 u or later they will know how far my Concern goes, and 
 1 that I remember my Duty, when others forget theirs. 
 " Let the proud Lady fay what ihe will, my Lord, don't 
 " give your felt fo much Trouble to fweeten her. Let her 
 " Rave, and make as much Noile as lhe can, I ihall only 
 :c pity, or perhaps defpile her. I may get more by her be- 
 '• ing Mad and Furious, than Honourable and Dilcreet. A 
 <£ tender filent Jealouly is what I fear raoft. But I can't 
 " comprehend how, as you fay, I was the Caufe of that 
 " Beauty's coming there : Tis a Riddle to me, and, out of 
 " Curiofity to know more of it, I lhall agree to what perhaps 
 out of Love I could not have contented to talk with 
 " you about. There's no more harm in Talking, than 
 " in Writing ; if Pcrfons write, and don't talk in this 
 <c Country, in others they talk, and don't write, Cuftom, 
 " and not Virtue, governs in thefe Cafes. As.for me, what- 
 " ever I do for you, I iliall take care of mine. JfabelU 
 " will tell you what I have refolv'd. Endeavour to make 
 " ufe of it, 'twill be to no purpofe to ask more of me ; 'tis 
 " all I can do, and all you are to expect of me. 
 
 The Count had feveral times defir'd of Eleonora a Mo- 
 ment or two's Converfation with her in all the Letters he 
 wrote her. He had repeated his Requeft viva voce on all 
 Occafions, as at Fifhings, and at his Country-Houfe. She 
 liad not abfolutely deny'd him, faying only, lhe queftion'd 
 whether ihe could do it or not. The old Woman, who 
 was every Day better diipos'd towards the Lover, becauiè 
 hsr Purfe every Day was the fuller for it, folicited her Mi- 
 ftrefs earnehMy, with her ufual Simplicity, to oblige the 
 Count fo fir, for ihe believd he would marry her, and lhe 
 and all her Family had Obligations to him. Eleonora, who 
 in the main, defir'd a Meeting as much as he, being impor- 
 tun'd by her, told her, ihe could not fee how it could be 
 done : lhe would never confent to receive him in their 
 Houie by Night or by Day, tho 5 he was to marry her on the 
 Morrow ; neither could lhe agree to talk with him out of a 
 Window, that Way being liable to many Inconveniencies ; 
 wherefore if ihe knew any Expedient ihe bad her propoíe 
 
 L 1 4 it 
 
42 ô The Ufe and AStions Part L 
 
 it. Thé old Woman repli'd, There was a Dormer-Window 
 in a Buttry joyning to her Chamber, by which,without any 
 manner of expofing her felf, ihe might fatisfy the Count. 
 Eleonora laugh d to hear an old Fool, as ihe was, mention 
 the molt convenient Method for their Interview that could 
 be thought of. This Woman's Room was on the Ground- 
 Floor, and the Light only came into it through a Window 
 that look'd into the Coure. In this Room there was a fort 
 of Buttry, to which there was no Light but what came 
 thro' a ■ little Dormer-Window that look'd into a narrow 
 Lane* and had two Iron-Bars a-crofs it, fo clofe, that all 
 could be done was to put ones Hand or Arm thro' ; how- 
 ever 'twás convenient enough to talk at, or for feeing any 
 one at a proper Time, being about a Man's height. The 
 old Woman having found out this Place , Eleonora ap- 
 pointed the Count a Meeting at it, if lie could make ufc of 
 ltj theye being no other io proper about the Houfc, no 
 body ever, fuipecting any ones coming into the narrow 
 Lane, there being no Bufmefs to be done there. The old 
 Woman re/oycing that ihe had fuch good News to. carry 
 the Count, haften d away with it, and the Anfwer ihe 
 wrote to his Letter. She was as welcome as ihe wifh'd to 
 be. The Lover, defir'd no greater Happinefs, than to fee 
 and talk to his Miftrefs alone. No matter whether in a 
 broad Street or narrow Lane r whether thro 5 a Dormer- 
 Window, whether the Place was clean or dirty, all was 
 equal to him, provided Eleonora was there. He ask'd. 
 JJkbelU, If he might not be io happy as to meet her that 
 very Day. Lovers being always impatient. She repli'd, Her 
 Miiirefs bad her tell him, he might come at Night at Ele- 
 ven a Clock, that he ihould knock lbftly thrice at the 
 Window, and it ihould be open'd to him. The Count. 
 Was in an Extafy to think of this charming Interview, and 
 the Expectation of it was as traniporting as the Meeting it 
 jfelf The Hours leem'd too tardy, and never was Time bet- 
 ter watch'd or told. When 'twas Eleven a Clock, he rant 
 to the Place of Rendezvous, and all the way was in a Rap- 
 ture. A Man muft be a Lover, and a pa&onate Lover too, 
 to know what he felt in his Soul. He came to the Win- 
 dow, made the Signal, and the fair Zko/iora open'd it her 
 ielf. She waited for him trembling all the while, for ihe 
 was npt us'd ;o allow her fclí fuch Liberties, the/ they wen? 
 
 common 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 421 
 
 common in this Country even amone; the mod virtuous 
 Women. I fhall not enter upon the Particulars of their Con- 
 verfation, 'tis eaiy to imagine what it confined of. E\eonor4 
 bad the Count talk foftly, bocaufe her Father lay direétly 
 over that Room. Sighs and Oaths, which may be made 
 without Noife, were not ipar'd on the Count's fide; and 
 we may fuppofe the Fair let fome tender Sentiments eicape 
 her, and perhaps more than ihe was willing to diicover. 
 The Count told Eleonora the whole Story of the Affair with 
 Celinda, and (Tie was very well iatisfy'd. This was fol- 
 low 'd with Proteftations of Fidelity, eternal Love, and all 
 that Tendernefs can ínlpire two Perfons of their Senfe and 
 Breeding with to fay on liich an Occafion. The Count was 
 not weary with waiting, tho' the Clock had ihuck Two be- 
 fore the Interview broke up. Eleonora often told him, 'twas 
 time to be gone, and he Inould not abufe the Liberty flic 
 gave him. He obeyd at lait ; but before he went, he put 
 his Hand through the Hole, and Eleonora gave him hers 
 \vhich he kilsd a thouiànd and a thoufand times withTran- 
 iports not to be cxprelsd. Then the Window was ihut, and 
 trje Count withdrew lb glad, and lb content with his For- 
 tune, that he could not flecp a Wink all Night, which he 
 thought he pafs'd more pleaiantly,than if he had fpeqt it in 
 the moit agreeable Slumbers. He was fcarce up and drefs'd 
 before a Pae;c came to tell him the Lieutenant-Colonel of 
 thp Pope's Guards defir'd to fee him. He knew him, had 
 bepn vifited by him, and he lbmetimes came to dine with 
 him } ib his Vifit did not now iurprife him, it not enter- 
 ing into his Thoughts that he came about Eleonora, tho' he 
 l^ad heard talk of his being in love with her, and the Ex- 
 travagancies he had been guilty of on that Account. He 
 had been told,the Sentence pais'd againlt him had made him 
 wifer, and that he thought no more of her; lb he bad his 
 Page brine him in. Camilla feem'd to be in fome Confu- 
 fion, but that was no more than he us'd to be when he en- 
 deavour'd to, put on a civil and complaifant Carriage, The 
 Count receivd him with his ufual Freedom, and ask'd 
 Leave ofhim to drefs himfelf, after which they walk'd into 
 a Gallery that look'd into the Garden, for the Benefit of the 
 Air. Camillo all this while talk'd confufedly, like a Mar* 
 whofe Head was full of fomething elfe: at lait he flood 
 Ûlçnt iojne time, and then all at once ask d the Count wrrfr 
 
 the 
 
422 The Life an J Allions Part L 
 
 the fame Confufion, If he might prefume to take the liber- 
 ty to open his Heart to him, and tell him the truth of a 
 Matter, on which both his Eaie and his Life depended. The 
 Count was a little fupris'd at iiich a Queftion, and what- 
 ever Face he put upon it.guefs'd that Camillo's Flame was not 
 quite extinguiih'd,as he had imagin'd; that Celinda had broke 
 her Word, and been talking to him of Eleonora. However 
 he reply'd ibmewhat fternly, He might l'peak boldly, for 
 lay what he would, he was prepar'd to hear him. Up- 
 on which, Camilla refum'd the Difcourlè, like a Man th at 
 falls from one Confufion into another, and was at a lofs 
 what to fay, telling him, he had heard he was in love with 
 Eleonora ; that he was not the only Perfon in Rome, who 
 did not know he had courted that young Lady about two 
 Years. He ihould be ridiculous, to require a Ferfon of his 
 Quality to have any regard for him, and forbear loving fo 
 lovely a Creature, if his Defign was the fame ; but he hopd, 
 that if his was only an Intrigue of Pleafure, which it muft 
 be, a Man of his Rank being above thinking of Marriage 
 with a young Woman of hers, he would be lo honourable 
 and generous as to Sacrifice a fmall Inclination to him, 
 iince he intended in a few Days to ask her in Marriage of 
 her Father. The Count, who began to look very coldly on 
 him, rinding he talk'd to him in that Tone, grew as gay 
 and eafy as he us'd to be, and reply'd, He believ'd he knew 
 him well enough, to fuppoiè he was not a Man who could 
 explain himfelfto him, or any one when requir'd ; but his 
 civil Way of Proceeding had engag'd him to tell him in two 
 Words all that he knew of the Matter/which was, that he had 
 a Value for all Eleonoras Family ; that her Brother was his 
 particular Friend, who, like himfelf, was a Man of Pleafure 
 and Honour : As to his Sitter he fhould not trouble his Head 
 on that fcore, but puih on his Defign as vigoroufly as he 
 could: That he would by no means hinder it, knowing 
 how advantagious it would be for her to marry an Officer 
 of his Merit and Fortune : That if he did not care to ask 
 her in Marriage of her Father, he might employ fome one 
 elfe to do it for him ; and he gave him Ills Word, that from 
 the Moment he ihould have the Father or Daughter's Con- 
 fent, he would renounce all fort of Commerce with the 
 Family to give him no manner of Umbrage : That he would 
 never go into the Houle, nor thro' the Street, unlefs 'twas 
 
 on 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache, 423 
 
 on an extraordinary Occafion. Camilla either believing he 
 could not ask more of him, or thinking 'twould be in vain 
 if he did, feeind to be very well fatisfyd, and full of Gra- 
 titude for the Count's Goodnefs to him : So taking Leave 
 of him, he went to Celinda, to whom he had free Accefs as 
 the Second Officer of her Husband's Regiment. She had not 
 feen him fince the Day he went from her in fuch a Rage, 
 and as foon as fhe faw him, fhe expected to hear of fome of 
 his Pranks againft the Count and nis Miftrefs ; but under- 
 ftanding how he had manag'd himfelf, and what all his 
 Fury and Threats came to, tho' this Hector had told it 
 much more to his Advantage than the thing had really hap- 
 pen'd, fhe was in a terrible Paiïîon with him, upbraiding 
 him with his Cowardice, and delpifing him as a Man that 
 was not at all proper to revenge her. So looking on him 
 with Indignation, lhe faid, Is this the brave Camilla, that 
 was to drive away the Count as well as his othef Rivals, 
 who was not to fleep till he had had Satisfaction, and was 
 to cut off the Fair One's Nofe if lhe lb much as look'd 
 upon him ? For thus impertinently had Camilla talk'd at the 
 firit. Tranfports of his Fury. He was nettled at her Re- 
 proaches, and reply'd, He had faid no more than he would 
 do ftill » but he would go regularly to work, and let all 
 the Blame lie on the Count, if he "did not keep his Word 
 with him. As yet he had no Caufe to complain of him, 
 for he could not have anfwer'd him more honourably than 
 he did, when he queftion'd him about her ; and if he had 
 done otherwife, as great a Lord and as Brave as he was, he 
 would have found Camillo with his Sword in his Hand give 
 Place to no Body. Twas time enough for that yet, and he 
 would ask the young Lady in Marriage before Night. Ce- 
 linda would not talk to him any more about it. fearing her 
 Refentment would appear too plain if lhe puin d him far- 
 ther upon revenging her,- and that ihe mould feem too 
 much concern d, lhe faid only, that the Count endeavour'd 
 to amufe him with a falfc Indifference, and would not ib 
 eafily have abandon'd his Miftrefs, had he not been fure his 
 Propofals would be rejected. She did not like Camillo s De- 
 lay, and intended to quicken him by this Reproof. Camillo 
 anlwer'd, If it was fo, he fhould know what he had to do; 
 that he would try what it would come to before Twenty 
 four Hours pafs'd over his Head, and afterwards fhe ihould 
 
 fee 
 
424 The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 ice who were in Fault, his Rival or his Miitrefs, that he> 
 might place his Vengeance right. You'l end this Bufinefs as 
 you have begun it, fays the Lady. I have begun it, reply d. 
 the Lover provoke! at this new Reproach, like a Man, per- 
 haps, of too much Honour ; but you may afiure your ielf, 
 Madam, if I don't meet with the fame honourable Treat- 
 ment , t ihall end it like one that's too Furious. He went 
 out haltily, having fpoke thefe Words without {laying for an 
 Anfwer, and ran diredtly to a Kinfman of his, who was inti- 
 mately acquainted with Eleonoras Father-was a Man of Senfe, 
 and ht for the Bufinefs he intended to employ him about, 
 which was ? to make the Propofal of Marriage. His Kinf- 
 man knowing how much all the Family was againft him, 
 would have been glad to have been excus'd, believing there 
 would be no Pleafure for him, nor Honour for the Lover 
 in fuch an Attempt ; but he was afraid of making him an- 
 gry by rtfufing him. He endeavour'd to put him oft of it, 
 or at leaft to perfwade him not to make fuch a plain Pro- 
 pofal, but to try firft how they were inclin'd to it, that he 
 might not have the Difgrace of being refus'd for his vio- 
 lent Carriage, which* he was furç they liad not yet forgot. 
 The fierce Gamillo grew a little Sour at the very Name of 
 being refus'd, and reply'd, He was weary of the Delays he 
 had met with ; That he had courted the Lady two Years, 
 and fome how or other would fee an end of the Bufinefs: 
 If her Relations had been a little Angry with him, they 
 ihould confider he had not offended but out of an Excefs of 
 Love, and that for fix Months paît he had behav'd himfelf 
 towards. them and her fo well, that his Civility and Mode- 
 ration had been obferv'd and commended ; tor the lake of 
 which they ought to forget what had país'd cipecially for 
 that he was as good as they, and might with Jleafon pre- 
 tend to a greater Fortune. His Kinfman feeing him in that 
 Humour, and that 'twould be in vain to endeavour to 
 advife him againft this Step, he being Headftrong and 
 Whimfical, told him he would do his Duty, and go about 
 it immediately, but he would not be anlwerable for the 
 Succefs of the Affair, of which he was very diffident. Ca- 
 nillo was full in the fame Tone, faying, He had nothing 
 to do, but to go and propole the Thing ; and whatever was 
 the I flue of it, he was come to a Reíoíution concerning it 
 Thus his honeft Coiifm was fore'd to undertake a Th.ins>.°.f 
 
 ivhic^ 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 425 
 
 which he knew no Good would come. He waited on Eleo- 
 noras Father, and after the ulual Compliments between 
 Gentlemen and Friends, he told him the Occafion of his 
 Vifit. The good Man, who underftood himfelf very well, 
 aniwer d, That he had a great Efteem for Camitlds Peribn, 
 knowing him to be a Gentleman, who was well born, had a 
 good Ei\ate,and was a Man of Merit.whofe Alliance would 
 be an Honour to his Family ; but the Bufinefs did not al- 
 together depend on him ; That he was not to be marry 'd 
 for his Daughter, but his Daughter for her felf, and there- 
 fore 'twas reaíbnable fhe fhould be confulted on the Matter, 
 which he would do, and give him a more pofitive Anfwcr 
 the next Day. Camillo 1, Kinfmun perceiv'd he muft expect 
 nothing but good Words, and that the Father defir'd Time 
 only to prepare a handlome Denial. However Camillo could 
 not complain of him , nor he of Eleonoras Father. The 
 Friend had done his Duty, and the Lady's Father carry 'd 
 himielf in it like a Gentleman , who wanted neither Seule 
 nor good Breeding. He told Camille of it, and the Lover 
 fcem'd to be well iktisfy'd, flattering himfelf itill, that the 
 Aniwer would be favourable. 
 
 The Count had already us'd himielf to write twice or 
 thrice a Day to Eleonora ; and he did not mils letting her 
 know the Subject of the extraordinary Vifit he had receiv'd 
 from Camillo ; the Particulars of which he referv'd till their 
 uext Meeting, defiring he might have the Happinefs to fee 
 her as foon as poiftble. She return'd him an Aniwer in the 
 following Words, which I got a Copy of, and fo did feve- 
 ral others ; the Letter being made Publick, as you will fee 
 by the Sequel of the Story. 
 
 " I guefs very near, my Lord, what was the Occafion 
 " oCCamillo's Vifit. My Father ipoke to me this Afternoon 
 " about the Propofals of Marriage which have been made 
 " him in his Name. I anfwer'd in two Words, I was well 
 " as I was, and Camillo ihould never be a Husband for me, 
 J nor have I lacrinVd very much to you in refufing him : 
 " You know the Man. It I had not the Sentiments.which 
 " I have for you, I ihould not think better of him. Ail 
 I{ Men, my Lord, are not Wke Camillo; I don t fear Love, 
 " becaufe I don't know what it is, and perhaps fhould not 
 £ be the happier if I did. What Difference there is between 
 
 Men i 
 
42¿ The Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 • Men ! When one has feen and known you, how little 
 
 " does one care to fee and know any Man eiie ! But, my 
 
 u Lord, if I am born for you, as you fay you are born for 
 
 " me, now comes that fince our Hearts are fo well agreed, 
 
 " our Fortunes lhould agree no better ? All I can fay to it 
 
 u is, the Choice of our Deftinies is not in our Power, and 
 
 " I found that of my Heart made before I fo much as 
 
 ° thought of it. So the Fate of our Hearts is the Bufmefs 
 
 " of the Stars, we might be happy if ije could make them 
 
 " fix'd. You will find what, my Lord, are my Fears of 
 
 " yours, for we are always held Independent of that 
 
 u which govern us; I feel already 'twill coft me dear to 
 
 " loiè it. Come to Night at the fame Hour, I'll tell you 
 
 u the reft, and know of you what pafs'd between you and 
 
 " thisCamillo, 
 
 When Celinda knew who it was that had robb'd her of 
 the Count's Heart, though in truth he never lov'd her but 
 with a guilty Paífton, ihe refolv'd not to be fatisfy'd with a 
 fingle Vengeance, which was all lhe expected from Cantillos 
 Jealoufy ,• ihe fet her Wits to work to revenge her felf on 
 Eleonor a alfo: And to that end hir'd Peribns to watch 
 Night and Day if the Count enter 'd his Miiirefs's Houle, 
 and learn as much as they could of thofe Lovers fecret In- 
 trigues from the Servants, or others employ 'd in them. 
 Her Lackey, who, as I have faid, was a iharp cunning Lad, 
 and one pf her Spies, on whom ihe moft rely'd for Intelli- 
 gence, came and told her, That he had feen an old Woman 
 go often from the Lady's Houfe to the Count's. Whence 
 Celinda imagin'd ihe carry 'd MeiTages from one to t'other 5 
 ihe then gave them Orders, if poifible, to furprife that old 
 Woman when ihe went next to the Count, and take from 
 her what ihe was carrying to him, promiimg the Boy a 
 great Reward if he fucceeded in it. The hopes of this Re- 
 ward, made the Lad more zealous than before to ferve his 
 Lady. He difguis'd himfelf, put on a Mask, and waited for 
 the old Woman's coming. "Twas late, and he was going 
 to retire when he faw her approaching, he let her pals by, 
 and follow'd her till ihe came to a By-Place, where no bo- 
 dy could fee him ,• he then pull'd her Hand out of her Poc- 
 ket with the Billet in it, which ihe carry'd thus for fear of 
 lofing, and caught it from her. The Woman being iq 
 
 frightcn'd, 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 427 
 
 frighten'd , fhe could neither defend her felf nor cry out. 
 He left her trembling; as fhe was, and ran with the Letter 
 to his Mittrefs. Celinda triumph'd over our Lovers by this 
 Device, and was over-joy d when die faw how Camillo was 
 treated in the Letter, not doubting of the good Effect which 
 it would have on lo fierce a Nature as his. She had not 
 Patience, late as 'twas, to itay till next Day, but fends for 
 him immediately to communicate the News to him. He 
 came, and as foon as ihe law him, ihe faid with an Air of 
 Raillery, What's become of your pacifick Negotiation, 
 Camillo i He repli'd, It is in a thriving Way, being very 
 well fatisfy'd with the Father's Anfwer, and the" kind 
 Things he laid of him ; but he defir'd a little Time to talk 
 to his Daughter, which was juft and reafonable, and to 
 morrow he fhould know the Succefs. That is to fay, re- 
 ply'd Celinda, The Bufinefs is as good as half done. I believe 
 io, fays Camillo. And you are providing your Wedding- 
 Cloatns, quoth fhe. Camillo , who naturally did not love 
 Raillery, efpccially on iiich a Subject as this, perceiving fhe 
 laugh'd at him by her lalt Words, began to be upon tie 
 Fret : And fhe, to anger and provoke him the more, gave 
 him Eleonoras Billet, laying, There, read that; perhaps 
 you 1 learn more News out of it concerning your pretended 
 Marriage than you are willing to know. Camillo open'd the 
 Letter, and read the Sentence of his Death ; of a Death the 
 moft cruel and frightful that a Man of his Humour, and 
 his amorous and jealous Temper, could fufifer. I have faid 
 enough of him already for you to imagine into what vio- 
 lent -Rage Eleonora's (Jontempt of him, and Love for his 
 Rival, threw him. He talk'd like one out of his Wits, till 
 Fury and Deipair ftruck him dumb. Celinda fnatch'd 
 away the Letter from him for fear he ihould tear it ; 'twa* 
 too uièful a Thing for her to lofe it. He would have a 
 Copy of it, which ihe wrote and gave liim ; he there left 
 her, without faying what he was going about. 'Tis certain, 
 if the Count had gone to the Place of Rendevous at Night, 
 and had not had notice of what had happened, he had been 
 (hot, tho' Camillo s Rage was more againft Eleonora than 
 him. But the old Woman with mucin ado crawl'd home, 
 and told her Miltrefs the Mifchance that had happen'd to 
 the Letter. Eleonora turn'd pale when lhe heard it • 'twas 
 a dreadful Blow to her, and the worit ihe had ever recei- 
 ved 
 
528 The Life and Allions Part I. 
 
 ved in her Life ; but feeing there was no Time to be loft in 
 advifine the Count cf it/and hind'ring the Meeting, ihe 
 wrote him three or four Words only, to tell him, the old 
 Woman would inform him of the Accident which had 
 happen'd to a Billet ihe had written to him, and which 
 was of great Confequence to her ; tliat 'twas necehary to 
 difcover the Author of this Treachery, for lhe ihould never 
 be at reft till ihe knew what was become of the Letter. She 
 forbad him to come to the Place of Rendezvous, becauiè 
 mention was made of it in it, and lhe would not be there. 
 When this Billet was feal'd up, fhe made the old Woman 
 hide it, where any one would have a hard matter to find it, 
 and fent her to the Count another wav. The Lover read it, 
 heard the Story which Ifabella told "him how the Letter 
 was taken from her, and was fo concernd for Eleonoras 
 fake, that he was almoft befides himfelf. He examind the 
 old Woman about the Lad's Drels and Mien, but ihe faid 
 ihe was fo frighten d, that ihe could give him no Account 
 of either the one or the other. He aniwer'd the laft Billet, 
 and, in all die moving Phrafes he could think of, endea- 
 vour'd to exprefs his Sorrow for the Misfortune that had 
 befallen them, promifing that he would not ileep till he 
 had News of the laft Letter, and had chaftis'd the infamous 
 Traytors. He gave this Billet to the old Woman, and bad 
 her go home by the Way where lhe was afiaultcd, and to 
 fear nothing, for two Men ihould follow her, and prevent 
 her being ill us d ; Ifabella feeing her ielf thus under Con- 
 voy, tooK Courage, and went home that way without mee- 
 ting any Opposition. The Count all this while walk'd 
 muling up and down his Chamber, meditating a thouiànd 
 cruel Defigns of Refentmcnt and Revenge againft Camillo, 
 whom he believ'd to be the Author of this Treachery. As 
 foon as his Men were come back, he took two others arm'd 
 along with him, and went direaly to Camilos Houfe. to 
 take nim thence by force, and carry him to a Place where 
 he might oblige him to reftore the Billet, and treat him 
 afterwards as he ihould think fit ; but no Camilla was to be 
 found. He fent three or four Men about difguis'd to fee for 
 him, but they could get no Tidings of him. He order'd 
 him to be fought after at the Guard, and all Places where 
 he us'd to lie, but no News of him. Cantillo w f as all that 
 while at his old Lieutenant s near Eleonoras Houfe, where 
 
 hs 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 5 29 
 
 hefpcnt the Night in watching for tlie Lady's coming, a» 
 'twas hinted in the Billet. The Count not knowing what 
 to do, and having hunted about till Midnight, return'd 
 home very diiconiblate that he could do no more, adjour- 
 ning the Profecution of his Search till next Day, reiolving, 
 to execute his Defign upon C„tmllo,û\6 he found him in the 
 mid it of the Pope's Guards : But he was lcarce got home 
 before he receiv'd a Billet from Veronica, which put him out 
 of Pain ; informing him, That her Cou fin could not for- 
 bear coming that very Evening to tell her what ihe had 
 done, triumphing in lb glorious an Action by fhewing her 
 the Letter She did not believe her Revenge would be com- 
 pleat, unlefs 'twas, known especially to Veronica, who had 
 Iieard the feverc Reflections Eleonora had made on her , 
 wherefore (he rcfolv'd ihcjhould fee Ihe underftood how 
 to do her felf ]uiuce for iiich Affronts. But Veronica, who 
 did not concern her lelf in this Quarrel farther than het 
 Friendfhip to her Coufin engag'd her in it, and who law 
 more than a Woman blinded by Paifion ; and as to the 
 Conièquences of it, pityd her Madnels, forefecing the Mis- 
 fortunes that would befall her for it, and that are not yet 
 over with her ; Ihe did not ltand to give her Coufin whole- 
 fome Advice, becauiè lire perceiv'd lhc was not in a Con- 
 dition to hearken to it. However, fearing to fharc the 
 Mifcbicf that might come to her, and perhaps defiring to 
 oblige the Count, as icon as hSe was gone ihe wrote to 
 him all Ihe had learn'd of her about the Billet; and that 
 110 body might diicover her Informations, ihe dilguis'd het 
 felf like a Servant, and can y 'd her Letter her lelf, recom- 
 mending it to his People as a Letter of Cdnfequence to be 
 given him immediately, and away Che went. Indeed ihe 
 could not have done him a greater Piece of Service, for it 
 deliver'd him , out of a great deal of Trouble which he 
 was giving himfelf, by the Revenge he meditated againlt 
 Cantillo for an Action of which he was not guilty ; and be- 
 iides he could have got nothing by his Violence, but the 
 Copy of the Billet lie was hunting for, CAinÂà having 
 the Original by her, and being the Author of the Treacheiy. 
 He contrived all Night loup, how he might effectually have 
 Satisfaction for this Affront done his Miltrels and himfel£ 
 As loon as 'twas Day, he gave Valentine the neceflary In- 
 ftrudion what iliould be done in that Cafe 3 and firft he or- 
 
 M m dad 
 
530 The Life and Anions Part 1. 
 
 order'd him to get Celirdds Lackey apprehended as a Thief 
 andAiïaflîn. And the Count being a Man of fuch Qua- 
 lity and Intereit, needed only to write to the Magiftrates 
 about, which he did it. The Lackey was feis'd and thrown 
 into the Dungeon of the Jayl. The following Billet from 
 Celinda to Camilo, was found in his Pocket when he was 
 taken coming out of his Miftrefs's Houfe. 
 
 " I hear the Count is mightily concern'd for the Lofs of 
 " die Letter ; that he did not reft all Jaft Night about it, of 
 " which he fpent the greateft Part in running up and 
 " down fearching for the Perfon that play d "him this 
 " Trick, and the*reit in writing Letters. I am very much 
 " afraid he thinks you did it. Stand upon your Guard, and 
 " efpecially if he talks to you, have a care how you give 
 <£ him the leaít Reafon ro fufpeót 'twas I, for he may ruin 
 " me. Pray fend me back the Copy of the Billet by my 
 " Lackey, tor he knows my Hand. Farewel, let me fee 
 *f you before Dinner, that we may confult together what 
 " is to be done in the Cafe. 
 
 CELINDA. 
 
 The Barigello or Provoft, who feizM the Lackey, took this 
 Letter from him, and carry 'd it immediately to the Count, 
 perceiving it related wholly to him , and would pleaie 
 him to fie it, as indeed it did. He was glad the young 
 Fellow was apprehended, and gladder that he had got 
 Celindas Letter. After which, he thought he needed only 
 fend Valentine for hi?, and he would not be at the Pains 
 to write to her ; bidding him tell her, That fhe could 
 not do better for her felf and ail her Family, than to fend 
 him the Billet, otherwife he would fpeak to her Hus- 
 band, and make her deliver it up by force. Valentine 
 went to Celindas, but ihe was gone out. For when ihe 
 heard her Lackey was thrown into Jayl on the Count's 
 Complaint as a Thief and AflafTm , ihe was terribly 
 alarnVd, as well on account of the Billet he had about 
 him, which fhe had written to Camilo, as fearing he would 
 contéis the whole Story, and that 'twould make a Noife,and 
 come to her Husband's Ears. So ihe ran, all undrefs'd as 
 ihe was, to bet Coufin s, to know if fhe had given the 
 
 Count 
 
Book III. o/Gu2man d'Alfarache. 531 
 
 Count notice of what had pafs'd concerning the Billet, 
 and to advile with her what ihe lliould do to forten him, 
 and procure her Lackey's Libert}-. She had icarce told her 
 what ihe came about, before Valentine, not knowing ihe 
 was there, went to Veronicas, to thank her in his Mailer's 
 Name for. the Obligation ihe had laid upon him, and to 
 aifure lier. lie would acknowledge it on all Occafions,in which 
 _ihe might think fit to make ule of his Service: But undcr- 
 fhnding Celinda was with her, he defir'd _to ipeak with 
 her as a Man that liad ibmcthing of Confequence to tell 
 lier, for which he had been at lier Houíe. Celinda was 
 more and moreconfirm'd in her Sulpicious, that the whole 
 Matter was .come ' out. So ihe ask'd Veronica's Leave that 
 the Man niir.ht enter her Chamber, and ipeak to her be- 
 fore her. Valentine was glad of that ; in he went, and ve- 
 ry gravely delivered his Meiïage, giving her to underlland. 
 the Count was. not a Man to be dallied with, and lhe 
 muft reilore the Billet immediately, or expect to meet with 
 iuch Troubles as would be the Ruin of lier Husband and 
 all her Family, which would fall upon herielf firlt, and 
 overwhelm her. The haughty Celinda was frighted at thele 
 Threats, and endeavour cf to find out lome Exculc, lay- 
 ing lhe had bum'd it. But Valentine continuing to talk 
 to her in a high Tone, threatned to have her carry 'd 
 out of the Houle before he lïir d , unlets llie deliver 'd 
 the Letter. Her Coufin begd her to do it with Tears 
 in her Eyes; and Celinda hoping her doing it would pre- 
 vail upon the Count to reléale her Lackey, Valentine pro- 
 mis'd to intercede for him ; but advisd her to write a 
 Letter to his Mailer, who was enrag'd at her, to bring him 
 into a better Humour ; which ihe did, and the Count was 
 glad of it, it being a Confirmation of the other Letter. 
 However he took no notice of it, thinking it would not be 
 Prudence in him to let the Lackey have his Liberty till lie 
 was punilh'd for his Inlolence. He rejoye'd that he had 
 got the dear Billet, elpecially finding'twas of luch Im- 
 portance ; he prelcntly let her know he had it, and lent it 
 tier back that lhe might not doubt it. He wrote her a full 
 Account of his Adventure in the Search of it, and lent her 
 alio Celindas Two Letters, that flic might have the tul 1 Plea- 
 lure of the Succels of this A flair. Valentine had the Charge 
 of delivering the Packet to the old Woman to give it to her 
 Mm 2 Muiréis, 
 
532 The Life and Aniens Part I. 
 
 Miftrefs, the Thing being of too much Confequence to 
 be trufted with any one elfe ; ordering him to bid 
 the old Woman tell her Miftrefs, that the Count would 
 make her another long Vifit on purpoie to give her an Op- 
 portunity to fend an Anfwer, if ihe thought fit, and 
 it might be given to him When he return a. EUonêr4> 
 who had not flept all Night for the Concern ftie was 
 in about her Billet, was extreamly comforted to fee it 
 in her own Cuftody again, tho' me did not doubt but 
 Copies were taken of it, and would be difpers'd about 
 Town. However 'twas a great Matter that ihe had her 
 own Hand-writing again, that it could not appear againft 
 her, and that ihe might now difown the Letter, and all that 
 could be fiid of it to her Father and Brother, whofe hearing 
 of it ihe was moft afraid of. She was well pleas'd alfo to 
 lèe her Rival's Letters, and her Pride abated ; ihe would not 
 fail to return her Thanks totheû»««i for the Zeal he ihew'd 
 on this Occafion ; and he having defir'd that he might fee 
 her at Night, having a great deal more than what he laid 
 to fay to her, me permitted him to come, but recommended 
 to him to be well attended, for ihe ftill was afraid of Ca~ 
 millo, that he might ihew him Foul-Play. This Anfwer 
 being written down, and ièaled up, was given to Valen- 
 tine, who deliver'd it to his Matter. And now every thing 
 "was to go as the Count would have it, who in the Afternoon 
 had another Meflage from Celinda on behalf of her Lackey, 
 Veronica, at her Coufins earneft Requeir, coming with it : 
 The Count told her, ihe had fo fenfibly oblig'd liim by the 
 Advice ihe had given him, that 'twas not in his Power to 
 deny her any Thing, yet he defir'd her to confider a little of 
 what Confequence that was ; and if he was enlarg'd, he 
 nin ft require two Things; the one, That Celinda fend him 
 the Copy of the Letter which ihe had given to Camilo, and 
 the other, That if the Lackey was enlarg'd, he íhould be 
 driven out of Rome, and never return, on pain of being 
 lent to the Gallies. Veronica aniwer'd, That as to the Copy, 
 Camitio had,, and what ihe believ'd to be the only one that 
 was taken of it, her Coufin intended to deliver it utt, 
 and would have done it before could Camillo have been 
 found; but whatever Search had been made for him, no 
 News of him could be heard, but that he was gone into the 
 
 Cou n- 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 533 
 
 Country to pais away the Time on the ill Succefs of his 
 pretended Marriage. And as to the Banifhment of the 
 Lackey, ihe hop'd, when Qiinda had done all that could be 
 defir'd of her, he would grant him an entire Pardon. The 
 Count ihew'd that he would not be inflexible on that Ar- 
 ticle ? and Vtronk-n took her Leave of him to carry her Cou- 
 fin his Anfwer, That if lhe would have her Lackey let 
 at liberty, lhe muit prefently procure the Copy of the Billa 
 ihe had given Camilb, fend it to the County and engage there 
 were no other Copies of it fpread about : The Truth is, Ca- 
 millo, the better to conceal his Defigns, being a Man that 
 w r as expert in all bloody Exploits and Ailafllnations, got a 
 Horfeback the Evening before, and gave out at his Houiè, 
 and at the Guard, That he was going into the Country for 
 few Days, that he might not be accus'd nor mi [fruited 
 to have given the Blow he meditated. He accordingly rode 
 out at one Gate of the Town, and in at another j left his 
 Horfe with an Acquaintance of his to make uie of upon 
 occafion, and, wrap'd up in his Cloak, retir'd to the old 
 Lieutenant's Houfc near Eleonoras. The Lieutenant having 
 receiv'd Notice of his Defign to come there, waited for him 
 at the Door, and introdue'd him without Noife, or being 
 feen of any Body. He pais'd the Night,as I liave already hin- 
 ted, watching to fee if the Court came to the Place of Ren- 
 dezvous, either to do a Brave Thing, as he call'd it, or to 
 fee what paiVd, and take his Mcafures to revenge nimfelf 
 another time ; and, if he could, rather on her than on 
 him, being molt enrag'd at her, and there was kail Dan- 
 ger in having to do with her than with him : Tho' the 
 Count did not appear that Night, he thought he lhould 
 have him one time or other, and rclblv'd to wait for 
 him, that he might not mils his Blow, nor ihr out of 
 that Houfe till he had had Ocular Demon ftrations of the 
 Commerce between them. It was not long before he had 
 full Satisfaction on that Head, for the next as had been 
 agreed upon between the two Lovers. He came about 1 1 a 
 Clock, accompanied by two Men ; he did not know him 
 at firlt, it being dark, and the Count cover 'd with a long 
 Cloak, which he giving to one of his Men, Camilo per- 
 ceiv'd it was him by the greatnefs of his Air, and the 
 brightnefs of his Cloaths, which lhone with Diamonds. 
 
 M m 3 He 
 
§34 The Life and Anions Parti. 
 
 He iuppos'd be was to enter Eleonoras Houfe, or talk to 
 her thro' a Window, which was what he ckfir'd : But he 
 was very much iurpris'd to fee him enter the narrow Lane, 
 where be did not believe there was ever a Door or Hole to 
 peep into the Houfe at. The Rnom he was in had a Win- 
 dow on that fide : He ran thither, taw the Count, heard the 
 three Raps at the -Dormer-Window, took it for the Signal, 
 and loon after the Window was open'd. He liftcn'd atten- 
 tively fome time, heard Voices, but could not diftinguifh 
 the Words. He had his Fufee ready loaden in his Hand> 
 and could not have miis'd wounding the Count, had he not 
 kilfd him : But befdes, that his Fury againft him was lome- 
 thing abated fmceyeikrday Morning, by abundance of Re- 
 flections on the Murder of a Perfon of "his -Quality, he iaw 
 the two that accompanied him, whom he knew to be as 
 Brave as he; and that reftraind him. So like a w r ife con- 
 jQderate Man, he laid by his Fire-Arms, and contented him- 
 felf at that time with being the Spectator of a Scene, the 
 Pleafure of w r hich was for another, and not for him, and 
 which he hop'd to Main with Blood, at the Expence of 
 thofe that gave him fo wretched an Entertainment. It lafted 
 |wo c?r three Hours, and he all that while was ready to 
 burn with Envy and Rage. At lait itclos'd: He heard 
 them bid one another Adieu, and the Kifles that follow d; 
 the like of wfcich he had heard before, and thought they 
 were Kiifesonthe Hand, yet they merca his Heart as much 
 as if he had feen them printed on her Lips. He fpent this 
 Night in leis Tranquillity than the laft, and his Rage was 
 fo great, that the Day brought him no Eale: Our Lovers 
 delighting itill extreamly in leeing and converfing with 
 one another at Night, were lui I'd afleep by the Sweetnefs 
 of fo charming a Converlation, and did not miltruft that 
 any one would intervene to diiturb their Pleafures. Next 
 Morning they communicated to one another their Impa- 
 tience to meet, by Letters, and the following Night was 
 appointed for their Meeting ; but never was Meeting more 
 Unhappy, and dearly they paid for their lait Pleafures. 
 The furious Camillo, after having meditated a thouiand 
 ways to revenge himie If on Eleonora, thought of cutting 
 her over the Rice, and fpoiling her Beauty, the moft dread- 
 ful Mifchance that could befall a young Woman. He found 
 
 he 
 
Book III. of Guzman cPAIfarache. 53c 
 
 he might do it through the hole in the narrow Lane ; and 
 knowing the Hour and Signal, might impofe himfelf up- 
 on her for the Count, and io get an Opportunity to do her 
 the Miichief he had proje&ed. He was provided with a 
 Fufee, Two Piftols, a Sword, a Hunting Knife, which 
 was as keen as a Razor, reiblving to ule that which was 
 moft proper for his Purpofc. He came out of the Lieute- 
 nant's Houfe ibftly, as long before the ufual Hour of Ren- 
 dezvous as he thought was reafonable for him to expect he 
 might do what he intended, and get off. He flip'd into 
 the narrow Lane, came to the Dormer- Window,gave Three 
 Raps, as he heard the Count did ; and Eleonora, who juli 
 then came to Jfabellas Cliaraber, hearing the Noife, ran to 
 open it; and, thinking to furpriie the Count f thruft her 
 Hand out as an a& of Gallantry, which was immediately 
 feis'd in a horrible manner, and the had fcarce Time to cry 
 out as ihe did before ihe found her lelf without a Hand ; 
 ihe fell down in a Swoon, and had not Power to fay 
 a Word. Jfabella, who by chance was in a Room adjoyn- 
 ing to hers, and did not believe the Count was come yet, or 
 that there was any Body at the Window, hearing her Mi- 
 ftrefs cry out in lo lamentable a manner, ran frighted out of 
 her Wits to lèe what was the Matter ; and when ihe faw 
 her bleeding on the Ground, imagining ihe was dead, ihe 
 fell down by her in a Swoon alio. The Father, who, as 
 I have laid, lay over head, was but half a-ileep, and awoke 
 at the Noilè, which ceafing on a fudden, he could not tell 
 whether he dreaind, or had indeed heard his Daughter's 
 Voicc,till hearing Ifabella cry out allb,and tumble down, he 
 fupposd ibme Miichief had happen d to the old Woman ; and 
 that 'twas lne, and not his Daughter, who cry'd out betore : 
 So he rofe, put on his Morning Gown, and went down to 
 iee what was the Matter. Valerio was not yet gone to 
 Bed ; and hearing a Noilè, and his Father afterwards rile 
 and go down, he took his Candle, andhaiknd to Jfabellas 
 Room. He came there as ibon as his Father : And who 
 can tell die dÜmal Lamentations they made at the Sight of 
 fo melancholy a Scene, poor Eleonora lying there all blood;-, 
 and dead as they thought, and the old Woman by her ! 
 The Father could hardly ipeak or itir, io great was his. 
 Sorrow and burpriic ? The Brother, whofe Cries were loud 
 
 M m 4 enough 
 
53^ The Life and AStibns Parti. 
 
 enough to reach the Heavens, ran to his Sifter, and found 
 her. Bleeding, and without a Hand: He did all he could to 
 ¿top the Blood, but all he did was in vain ; however, he 
 perceiv'd there was Life in her, and told his Father that ihe 
 would die only through lois of Blood, defiling him to 
 hold her Arm wjùle he calf d a Surgeon. He ran away as 
 (aft as he could ; and going through the fame Street the 
 Count was to come by to the Place of Rendezvous, met 
 him, but Jie was in fo much Concern he did not know 
 him, ^eins; wrap'd up in his Cloak, Valentine following his 
 Mailer. Valerio knew him, and, weeping, cry'd out, 
 Ah, Valentine, where's my Lord ? The Count, furprisd at 
 the mournful Voice with which he fpoke, ftop'd ihort, 
 and ask'd, What s the Matter? Why do you run fo faft? 
 Ah, my Lord, repjy'd VArio, my Sifter is murder'd, her 
 Hand is cutoff: I am going for a Surgeon, a Friend of 
 mine, but am afraid ihe will not live till I come back. 
 Oh Heav'ns, lays the Count ! What do you tell me ! Go you, 
 continued he, hardly able to expreis himfelf, to your Sur- 
 geon, and you, Valentine, fetch rnine. Vale rio: tel ling him, 
 that his Father, who was half dead, might want luch a 
 Mail as Valentine : The Count lent him to him immediately, 
 and. he came in good time, for the Father could not have 
 iielp'd his Daughter any longer, The Count call'd his Sur- 
 geon hímíelf ; and both of the Surgeons arriv'd at the fame 
 time. They found Eleonora a little reviv'd by the little 
 Remedies Valentine had made ufe of, but ifie was lb weak 
 ihe could hardly lookup. They were all frighted to fee 
 what quantity of Blood the had loft, and douSted whether 
 or no ihe could furvive it. The Counts Phyfician came alio. 
 The young Lady was carried into her Chamber, her Arm 
 tiew'd, and they found her Hand cut off fo cleanly, as if 
 it hid been done with a Razor. The Surgeons apply cl 
 me riecefiary Remedies to it, and ihe iwooned away 
 twice or thrice in the Operation. The Wound was not 
 moría?, unlets the lois or ío much Bloo4 render'd it fo. 
 The CWr'advis'd that nothing ihould be laid of it, as well 
 to amule the ArTaihn, as to prevent the making a hundred 
 folic. Stories oh'lo fatal an Adventure, which might be in- 
 jurious to the Lady's Reputation. The Surgeons were 
 therefore charg'd' with Secrete, who, having dpne their Bu- 
 
 fineis 
 
^gooklll. of Guzman d'Alfarache. 537 
 
 finéis, retir'd, but the Doétor ftay'd. They obi i g'd the Fa- 
 ther to go to Bed, he being himlelf more dead than alive. 
 Valentine wanted iadly to know how this Misfortune hap- 
 pen'd, to acquaint his Matter. He could not enquire of 
 Eleonora, becaufe fhe was not in a Condition to fpeak. 
 He a?kd the old Woman, but fhe knew nothing of it, 
 being then in her own Room; only Hie iaid, fhe believ'd 
 'twas done through the little Window, which was eafie to 
 be feen by the Blood fpilt in the Street, and down the 
 Wall of the Hotife. No Body could tell what was become 
 of the Hand, nor imagine how it could come thrpugh the 
 Hole, unlefs Eleonora had contributed her Part. In a Word, 
 after much Reafoning upon it, which was all to np pur- 
 pofe, ibme of the Family were ib curious, as to go and 
 lea rch the other fide of the Lane, where they found "the 
 
 })oor Hand with two Rings frill on its Fingers; the Wretch 
 raving drop'd it, and thought of nothinsfbut to fly as fail 
 as he could out of Danger. Every Body believ'd 'twas 
 Gamillo that did the bloody Deed, enrag'd at the young 
 Gentlewoman's refufing to be his Wife. Valentine know- 
 ing how impatient his Mafter would be to hear ibme News 
 of his Miitrefs, and feeing there was no more need of him,. 
 return d home. He found the Qtknt in fuch a Condition, 
 that one would not have expe&ed his Life a Moment hard- 
 ly, never was Man fo afflicted ; and if Valentine had not 
 behav'd himlelf very prudently, by telling him the Sur- 
 geons and Phylitian were of Opinion fhe would not die, 
 he could not in all probability have out-liv'd that Night. . 
 Valentine told him all he knew of the Adventure. After- 
 which, the Count lent him again to inquire how Eleonora 
 did, and order d htm to go every two Hours, which he 
 did till the next Day Evening, when the Count would go 
 ice her himlelf, not being able to ífay from her any longer. 
 His Grief encreas'd when he enter 'd the Houfe, efpecially 
 when he faw the Father, who was extreamly lurpris'd to 
 lèe him fo pale and lbrrowful, for he was not himfelf ; 
 and laid luch moving Things on the Concern he was in for 
 this fatal Misfortune, that they perceiv'd what they liad 
 not till then íufpeéted, that Eleonora?, Beauty liad touch'd 
 the Count's Heart ; and he was far from making it a My- 
 itery to them, declaring, That he was come to let them 
 
 know, 
 
§38 The Life and Afticns \ Part L 
 
 know, he was the innocent Caufe of this Auaifination* 
 He firft ask'd how i"he did, and was told fhe had flept a 
 little after Dinner, and feem'd to be lbmcwhat better, 
 but fhe was Feveriih. As ibon as fhe came to her felf, fhe 
 ask'd For her Hand ; and when fhe heard 'twas found, fne 
 rejoye'd extremely. The Time of the fécond Dreífing being 
 come, the Surgeons and Phyfician examining it, declared, 
 the Arm was mending, but the young Lady was weak, 
 and they were afraid or her life, the Fever continuing. 
 However, they would not frighten the Count and the Fa- 
 ther, by telling J em iiich fad News ; they faid only, they 
 could not as yet make any Judgment of ihe Danger. The. 
 Count endeavour'd to prepare hiinfelf for the worft that 
 could happen ; and feeing 'twas high time to ipeak to her 
 Father, he took him afide, and diicover'd his Love to his 
 Daughter, protefting 'twas honourable and vinuous, ancj 
 no more than fo lovely a Creature deferv d ; and to inew 
 he was in earneft, he demanded her of him in Marriage. 
 The Father was amaz'd to hear a Peribn of the Count's Qua- 
 lity talk fo, efpecially coniidering the Condition his 
 Daughter was in ; and not fuffering himfelf to be dazled 
 by the Honour fuch a Propofition did to his Family, he 
 reprelented to him at large, that he was too generous, pray- 
 ing, with all Submiflion, to give him Leave not to let hiin 
 wrong himfelf fo much, and to refute a Thing of which 
 he might one Day repent if his Daughter liv'd, and which 
 would injure his Reputation if fhe fhould die, her Qua- 
 lity being by no means equal to his. The Count, who was 
 not in a Condition to uie many Word?, faid, in ihort. 
 He faw in his Daughter all that he delifd to have in a 
 Wife, and whether One liv'd or died he would never marry 
 another Woman. He pray'd him not to oppofe it, nor 
 diííuade him from it, for he was refolv'd with his Confent 
 to make her his Wife immediately, defiring he would only 
 communicate it to Two or Three of his Friends, whom he 
 would have to be WiincjfTes of their Marriage. The good 
 Man perceiving 'twas the Count's Refolution, and not know- 
 ing what Aniwer to make, reply 'd, That he was afraid die 
 World would put an ill Conftructicn on his permitting 
 him to overwhelm him with Honour and Kindnefs ; but 
 he hop'd he would be ío juit. to him, as to own 'twas 
 
 again it 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 535* 
 
 again It his Will. The Count embrac d him ; and having 
 ask'd him to give him his Word upon it, and the Father 
 doing it with Joy, faid. He was as glad as a Man could be 
 under fo much Affliaion, and only defir'd his Daughter 
 might live. After that, he would not (tir out of the 
 Houle, looking upon it as his Father-in-Laws. The next 
 Day, the Phyfician faid Eleonora was much better, her Fever 
 was abated, and ihe talk'd a little livelier than ihe had 
 done fjnee fhe was wounded ; which perhaps was caus'd by 
 her hearing the Count was in the Houic, and that he even 
 lay there. She defir'd to fee him, but the Doctor was 
 afraid 'twould cauie fome Change ; but ihe prelling it very 
 much, he confented, provided ihe proinis'd to talk little, 
 for her Life was conccrn'd ; and the Count was too mud» 
 intereited in it not to take Care to manage it as tenderly 
 as he could. The Lover came in, and they were left alone. 
 She felt lome Emotions at the firit fight of liim, but it did 
 her no Hurt, and ihe returned to hçi State ihe was in be- 
 fore : As for him, he was like a Man half dead. He fell 
 down on his Knees, the Tears trickling down his Cheeks 
 and 'twas lome Moments before he could ipeak a Word 
 contenting himfelf with taking hold of her poor wounded 
 Arm, and kitting it a Thouiand and a Thoufand times. 
 She told him, in a few Words, how that Misfortune hap- 
 pen'd to her ; and the Count was ready to die of Grief at 
 the hearing of it. He comforted her as well as he could, 
 laid all that lo tender and paflionate a Lover could think 
 of on fuch an Occafion ; but he did not mention a Word 
 of their Marriage, it being thought improper : So they 
 refolv'd to itay, and fee how fhe was the next Day firlt. 
 The Doctor leeing the Interview lalted a little too long, 
 told Valentine of his Lfneafineis about it ; and he went into 
 the Room and told the Count, who, knowing he ihould be 
 moft lorry if it did her any harm, took his Leave, promi- 
 fing to lèe her again die next Day. When he was come 
 out of the Chamber, the Lover defir'd to fee his Miftrefs's 
 Hand that was cut oft; which was brought him neatly 
 wrapt up in fine Linen. The Count could not help weep- 
 ing, and ihaking with Horrour of fo barbarous an Action, 
 at" the fight of the dear Hand which lie had lb often kifs'd 
 with tranlporting Pleafure. In the Evening, when the 
 
 Surgeons 
 
54° fh e Life and Anions Part I. 
 
 Surgeons came to drefs Eleonoras Arm, he order'd his to 
 fet ibme skilful Goldimith to make a Hand of pure Gold, 
 that the other might be embalm'd and put up in it, as in 
 á Caíe. 
 
 The Father, by the Count's Defire, invited Three of his 
 Relations, Gentlemen of Fafhion, to come to his Houie ; 
 and he had a long Conference with them about the Counts 
 Dtfign to marry his Daughter, which they thought was 
 the greateft Honour that could happen to their Family. 
 They all together went to his Chamber to pay their Duty to 
 him, and return him their Thanks for his Kindnels to their 
 Kindred, and the Glory he would bring to all their Houie 
 by an Alliance with it. The Count receiv'd J em very ho- 
 nourably, and fhew'd in his Anfwer his Efteem and Af- 
 fection for all their Family, and the Value he had for the 
 young Lady's Virtue and Merit. The Company talking 
 more at large on this lovely Perfon's Misfortune, every Bo- 
 dy concluded that Camillo was the Author. Little was laid 
 of the Gunt's Amours, which were the Occafion of. it t 
 becaufe they were unwilling to aggravate his Sorrows, by 
 entring upon iuch an ungrateful Subjeót. The Count at lait 
 deíir'd they might be married the next Day, and that they 
 would all Three come then with a Prieit and Notary of 
 their Acquaintance to lolemnize their Nuptials. On the 
 Morrow the Doctor faid the Ditfemper was npffo violent 
 as before, at leait not worfe, tho' the Fever continued. 
 The Count, however, was refolv'd not to defer his Marriage, 
 hoping 'twould help to reitare her to her Strength, which 
 fhe only wanted by the Pleafure fhe would take in it. Her 
 Father viiited her to tell her the News ; and indeed, if 
 any Thing was capable of giving her Joy, and lave her 
 Lire, 'twas fuch a Felicity as that, which die did not ex- 
 pect, and was fo tranfported to her, that fhe lweated all 
 over, and fwoon'd away, out of which Swoon fhe 
 was eafily recover 'd, there being more Rapture than Difeafe 
 in it. She even feeind to be better all Day after, during 
 which the Count iiay'd by her Bed-fide, on Condition that 
 they were neither of 'em to talk. In the Evening, her 
 Relations came with a Prieft and Notary. The Marriage 
 was celebrated to the equal Joy of the Two Lovers -, and, in 
 acknowledgment of her Affections, the Count prelented his 
 
 Miltrds 
 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarâche. 541 
 
 Miftrefs with a Diamond-Necklace worth 2coco Crowns 
 that had been his Mothers : Befides this, lie gave her Two 
 Diamond Bracelet?, which he hi mié If ty'd round her Ann 
 that was not wounded ; and a Diamond Ring, which he 
 put on her Finger. There was a magnificent Feaft at Night 
 by the Count's Order ; at which were prefent, the Bride's 
 Relations, the Prieit, the Notary, and the Doctor ; the 
 whole Company being as joyous as the Occafion required. 
 The next Day, which was the Fourth of Eleonoras Fever, 
 Hie feem'd to be worie, which was imputed to the Emo- 
 tions ihe was in the Day before, when the Ceremony was 
 performed : The greater! Festival lhe ever knew, or was to 
 know as long as ihe liv'd. The Count never left her ; but 
 both of 'emobferv'd the Doctor's Orders, not to lay a 
 Word. The Fifth Day ihe grew worfe, and the Phyfician 
 faid, her Strength fail'd her ver-y much. The Sixth Day ihe 
 was worie itill : The whole Houle was alarnfd, and none 
 more than the Count. The Surgeon brought him the Golden 
 Hand he had order 'd to be made; and the Goldfmith had 
 ihewn his utmoir. Art in the Workmanfhip : The true 
 Hand was embalnfd, and trealur/d up in it, as in a Caie. 
 After which, the Count demanded ot his Bride if ihe would 
 give him that dear Hand ; and lhe replying, That nothing 
 now was her own, but all his, and that lhe had along 
 time ago given it him with her Heart ; he put it in die 
 Cavities of the hollow Gold Hand, adornd with ieveral 
 Diamond Rings. He lhew'd it to her ; lhe was extreamly 
 well pleas'd, faying, That lhe had nothing now to defire in 
 the World, and ihould die contented. In the mean time 
 the Count ordered all his Affairs, io that he might leave the 
 Town when he would at an Hours Warning. His Gentle- 
 man of the Horfe was gone away with his Domelticks Four 
 Days before to a Cattle he had Six Leagues off, in the Road 
 to Naples. He kept no more Servants with him than he 
 had prefent Occafion for ; and hearing in the Evening that 
 Camillo was come to Town, lie went and lay at his own 
 Houle, to prepare for the Execution of the Defign he had 
 meditated, l'art of the Night he fpent in writing Letters 
 to his chief Relations and Friends to leave with P r alentine 1 
 that as need rcquir'd he might make ule of em, and in- 
 form thole Lords of all that had palled. The next Mwr- 
 
 ning, 
 
 I 
 
$4* The Life and Anions Parti 
 
 nine, having finiftYd what Bufinefs of Importance remain d 
 unnnifh'd, he went about Twelve a Clock in the Forenoon 
 to the Palace to walk before the Guard-Room^ as he ibme 
 times did, hoping Camillo, who being the Second Ofticcr of 
 the Regiment was commonly there, would be on Duty 
 then, and he might have an Opportunity to talk to him, 
 and engage him to go home with him. This wretched 
 Man, for he muft be fo call'd, tho 1 he did not deferve 
 the Name of a Man, or Pity from any Thing Humane, 
 fled into the Country as foon as he had perpetrated this 
 horrid Act. From thence he fent a faithful Servant, whom 
 he could trait, twice or thrice to Town to hear what was 
 faid, and if the Count ftir'd upon it : But being inform'd al- 
 ways, that it did not make the leaft Noife ; that he was 
 not ' fought for, nor proiecuted for this Bufmefs $ that 
 every Thing was quiet at Eleonoras Fathers ; that the Count 
 was in the Country, as he had given out, and not a Ser- 
 vant left at home 5 that 'twas" thought the young Lady 
 was out of Danger ; and her Relations would not have it 
 known for fear of her Reputation ; that there being no 
 WitnefTes to prove the Faót. upon him, as he might be fure 
 there were not, he might return boldly, and take on the 
 t)ifcharge of his CominiiTion, as if nothing had been 
 done. So on the Sixth Day he mounted his Horfe, and 
 rode to Town, where he arrived about Eight a Clock at 
 Night ; and the Seventh, went to the Guard, as he us'd to 
 do. About Twelve a Clock the Count came there, and Ci- 
 millo being the firft that fpy'd him, to remove all Sufpicion 
 from him, accofted him with an open and fmiling Air ; 
 asking him how he did, becauie he feem'd fo alter d, and 
 fo pale. The Count reply 'd, He had been Five or Six Days 
 in the Country, and had fatigud himfelf a little with 
 Hunting, whicn had put him lbmewhat out of Orders 
 but he would reft himfelf now, and leave Hunting a 
 while, to divert himfelf with Mufick : To which end, he 
 fhould have a good Confort at his Houfe in the Afternoon, 
 and if he would come and partake of it, he fhould be ve- 
 ty welcome. Cantillo humbly thank'd him for the Favour 
 he did him: And the Gum added with an obliging Air, 
 To dine with him ; faying, He had a very good Dinner at 
 jbome, made up in part of the Game he kill'd yclterday 
 
 *\ ana 
 
Book III. of Guzman d*Alfarache. 543 
 
 and had only the Gentleman's Company who was with 
 him. He added, If you'll mate a third Man, come along 
 with us, and you will oblige me. Tho' Camilla did not 
 know the Gentleman that was with the Count, he gave 
 into the Deceit, and without any more Words or Cere- 
 monies went home with 'em. The Cloth was laid in a 
 Hall, at the end of which was a Garden, where the Count 
 us'd to have his great Dinners, when he had not a mind 
 to be heard in the Street. The Diihes were lerv'd in, and 
 the Count ask'd Camillo, whether he would not drink a 
 Flask of Florence, for he had lome that was Excellent. 
 He knew lie lov'd it, and would be fuddled with it lbnie- 
 times. Camillo lik'd the Propolàl. A Taftc was brought 
 him. and he found 'twas as good as the Count laid it was. 
 So the Glafs went round ; and the Count hugg'd himielf, to 
 think he was ïo likely to have a compleat Revenge. AH 
 the Doors of the Houfe were fait ihut ; he had no Body in 
 it but Men for his Turpofe, and his Man cbuld not clcape 
 him. He drank to Jiim often, to encourage him to drink j 
 and fo did the other Gentleman, whom the Count had got 
 there to aflilt him in his Defign : But there was no occa- 
 fion of tempting him to Drink, for, bcfidcs that¿ he I 
 drinking naturally, the Wine invited him to take of 
 Glais freely, and he drank of it plentifully when lit 
 prepar'd for it. The People that waited according t 
 Initru&ions they had receive, when he calfd for\\ 
 gave him fome out of a Bottle in which were Dug? that 
 would make him drunk the fooner. Three or tour Bum- 
 pers of this did his Bufmeis, iniomuch that, not being 
 able to fit up any longer, down he fell dead on the Floor, 
 at kail in appearance. Then the Count commanded him to 
 be ty'd Hand and Foot, and his Body bound to a Marble- 
 Pillar near the Chimney, with a Halter about his Neck. 
 When that was done, he left him under the Guard of Four 
 Juity Fellows, of whom the Chief was the Perlón that 
 din d with him. They had Orders how to proceed in exe- 
 cuting this nicked Wretch, (which they began about Six a 
 Clock, when he came a little to himlèlO with affronting, 
 railing at, and tormenting him. The Count went to liis 
 Father-in-Lan?, as well to give Falentine the neceíTary In- 
 ftruólions in his Affairs, he having not been at home in 
 
 Three 
 
544 îb e ¿-i fe and Anions PàrtL 
 
 Three Days, that no Body might fufpecl: him to be con- 
 Cern'd in Cantillos Fate, as to flay with his Wife the Utile 
 while ihe had to live. He watch'd with her till Nine a 
 Clock, and then retum'd to his own Houfe, not faying a 
 Word whither jfiç was going, or that he had got Camilla, 
 or what he was doing ; only lie told 'em, he had a Bufmeis 
 of Importance to conclude that Night, and would be back 
 in Two Hours. When he came to his own Houíé, he 
 found his Patient quite ibber, not fo much by the Time 
 fince he was Drunk, as by the bloody Affronts and Tor- 
 ments he had endur'd. " As foon as the Count cntcr'd the 
 Hall, he ask'd him with a doleful fubniiflive Voice, how( 
 he had offended him, fo as to provoke him to let him be 
 treated fo unworthily and cruelly ? _ The Count, without 
 looking upon him, or anfwering him, fat down in an 
 Elbow Chair that was placed near the Table over again it 
 the Aflafliu, and there he began to hear coolly (and look- 
 ing fledfaftly upon him) all his Complaints and Lamen- 
 tations, without interrupting him. When he found he 
 had done, he took out the Golden Hand which he had 
 in his Pocket, put it upon the Table, open d it, andihew'd 
 the Hand of his Dear Eleonor -a, asking him if he knew it. 
 'Camilo at this fatal Sight, which brought his Crime to his 
 ■Remembrance, was flruck dumb, hung down his Head and 
 Eyes, and had not Strength to fay a Word, kit he groan d 
 as if he was already giving up the Ghoiï. 
 
 Then the Count upbraided him wjth his Barbarity, and 
 execrable Treafon ; and kifling thefciid a thoufand times, 
 and thinking on the Danger his lovely Wife was in, he 
 fpoke fo paflionately, Camillo faw his Death was refolv'd on* 
 He had however recourfe to Prayers, confefs'd his Crime, 
 and implor'd Pity and Mercy of the Count for Heaven's fake 
 and Eleonoras. All the Anlwer he made, was to fhew 
 him the Dear Hand again ; and as he kifs'd it, Two of the 
 Men that were by feiz'd one of Camilla's Hands, and the 
 Third cut it off with a Sabre. They then left him for 
 half an Hour, all which time he cry'd out in a frightful 
 manner. The Count after that ihew'd him the Hand again, 
 and as he again kiis'd it, the Men cut off Cimillos other 
 Hand, and left him to languiih another half Hour ; at die 
 end of which, having loft' the ufe of his Speech with the 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'AIfarache. 545 
 
 Effufjon of his Blood, they itrangled him with the Halter 
 that was about his Neck. The Tragedy thus finilh'd, the 
 Count order'd his Men to carry the Body at One a Clock, 
 and hang it up at the lame Place where he perpetrated the 
 horrid Fact, with his Two Hands ty'd to his Neck, and 
 thefe Words written in large Letters over his Head z 
 
 " What lefs did the moll Perfidious and moil Cruel Mori- 
 " fter,that ever came from Hel l,dclcrve, after having commit- 
 " ted lb barbarous an Aótion as to anallmate a young Lady* 
 . worthy of the Adoration of Mankind for her Virtue 
 <{ and Merit, as well as for her Beauty, than to have his 
 " Two Sacrilegious Hands cut oft", and to die like an infa- 
 " mous Tray tor. 
 
 The Count having nothing more to do, retUrn'd to his 
 Fathcr-in-Law's, whom he found with his Son in a very 
 great Affliction, haying no hopes of Eleonoras Life. She 
 cad .isk'd for him twice to lee him a few Moment^ and 
 take her Lafl Adieu before fhe dy'd. The News picrcd 
 the Count's Heart, who reply cl, He fhould at leaft have this 
 Comfort, that he had, revenad her Death. The father 
 was cxtrcamly furpris'dat the Ncws,but Sorrow had ipoil'd 
 bis Talte of Vengeance : On the contrary, he let ÛK Count, 
 fee he was very much troubled he fhould expofe himielf 
 in fuch a manner out of Love to his Family. The Count 
 reply 'd, There was no need to fear the Coniequcnce, and 
 that he fhould have dy'd with pelpair if he had not done 
 it. He afterwards vifitcd his Dear Eleonora t whom he 
 found lb ill, that he ihould have been ftill more forrow- 
 ' ul than he was, had the Heart of Man been capable tó 
 know more Sorrow. He fell down upon his Knees at 
 lier Bed-fide, and told her, ihe ihould not Die unreveng J, 
 for the infamous Traytor was ;ult then expiring in a Halter 
 for his Barbarity to her. That 'twas the Villain Camilla 
 who did it, and whole Name will be abhorr'd as long as 
 the World lafts. She could only figh, and iky, 'twas mere 
 than flic defir'd ; for ihe bad pardon'd, and could haVe 
 wilh'd that he had pardon'd hjm alio, and left Revenge to 
 the Almighty, She alter'd after this News,- and could 
 ͣeak no more ; which threw the Count unto; itich a Trapi- 
 
 ttn ■ jpftt 
 
5 4¿ The Life and Aftions Part I. 
 
 port of Grief, that all who law him thought he would 
 nave loft his Life, or his Senfes. He kifs'd and embrac'd 
 her poor wounded Arm ; and (he feeing him in fuch a 
 fad Condition, did her utmoft to Comfort him : She pray'd 
 him not to forget her as long as he liv'd, and to protect 
 her Family, which lhe recommended to him. The Count 
 reply'd, That her Family now was his by Marriage ; and 
 if that was any Confutation to her, he faid, He had given 
 Order that ihe be treated with the Honours due to his 
 Dear Wife. She then embrac'd him ; and there was fa 
 much Love, Tendernefs, and fuch moving Aétions on both 
 Sides, that the hardeft Heart could not but have melted at 
 fo fad a Scene : The poor fick Lady dy'd away under it, 
 and the Count gavé a Shriek that alarm'd the whole Houfe. 
 Thofe that were prefent, did what they could to recover the 
 Lady, and the Count alio, for he could no longer fupport 
 himièlf under his Grief, but Speech lefs funk into the Arms 
 of his Man Valentine. They were all inexpreflîbly griev'd 
 for the Fair Eleonor a, who was breathing her Laft, and for 
 the County who was little better ; and who befides expos'd 
 hisPerfon, by flaying in the City fo long after what he 
 had dflne to Camilto. Valentine feeing him take fo little Care 
 of himfelf, told Valerio and the Phyfician, that they muft 
 take him thence by force, and compel him to be gone ; 
 Which they did, his Dear Eleonora defiring him for her 
 fake to depart ; but he would not go till he had once 
 more embrac'd her : After which, they again Swoon'd 
 away together. They took the Count in his Fit, and carried 
 him to his Coach, which waited for him; 'and Valentine 
 recover 'd him with Spirits, accompanying him Two Leagues 
 out of Town, where he took Horfe, and rode off Valen- 
 tine return'd in the fame Coach to take Care of the Count's 
 Affairs, and Eleonora's Funeral, who dy'd Tliree Hours af- 
 ter the Count left her. She was bury'd with Pomp fuitable 
 to her Husband's Quality. - As foon as 'twas Day, the Ma- 
 ltrates of the Town heard of Camillas Body hanging up 
 iri tile Lane. They enter'd Eleonoras Father's Houle to en- 
 quire about it, and he faid, he knew nothing of Camillo j 
 Dut his Daughter had been affáíTinated, and was juft expi- 
 ring. They examin'd him, his Son, and the old Woman, 
 lípóri Oath 5 and it being reported about, that Ccmillo din'd 
 
 witji 
 
 
Book III. of Guzman d'Alfarach^ 547 
 
 with the Comt the Day before, his Houfe was fearch'd, but 
 they found only Valentine and Two Women Servants. 
 This is the whole Truth of fo Tragical a Story, which 
 doubtlefs had ill Conferences on account of the Share 
 the Two Ladies had in it, especially the Colonel's Wife, 
 who muft liave been very much troubled for her Two Let- 
 ters, and her Lackey's Imprifonment, who was not yet re- 
 lease. 
 
 The Ambaflador and the Company were fenfibly touch'd 
 with the Relation of this Tragedy : They heartily pity'd 
 the unfortunate young Lady, and the Count as much 
 as fhe. The Story lafted all the Afternoon. They took a 
 little Walk after it, and then return'd to Supper, to which 
 the Neapolitm Gentleman, who told it, was invited. 
 
 FINIS. 
 

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 863.39 A3Ô7L V.l 289184 
 Alemán 
 
 Life of Guzman 
 
 63.39 A367L v .l