Pablo de Segovia, the Spanish Sharper - Francisco de Quevedo (good summer reads .TXT) 📗
- Author: Francisco de Quevedo
Book online «Pablo de Segovia, the Spanish Sharper - Francisco de Quevedo (good summer reads .TXT) 📗». Author Francisco de Quevedo
In which the same subject is pursued, with other strange incidents.
Day came, and we all started to action. I was as well acquainted with them already as if we had been one mother’s children; for there is ever an easiness and sweetness in things evil. It was very pleasant to see one put on his shirt at ten several times, because it consisted of as many several clouts, and say a prayer at everyone, like a priest that is vesting to go to the altar. One could not find the way into his breeches; another called out for help to put on his doublet, for none of them knew the right side from the wrong, or the head from the heels. When this was over, which afforded no little pleasure, they all laid hold of their needles and thread, and it was darn, stitch, and patch. One fixed an arm against a wall, to draw together the rents in a sleeve; another kneeled down, to botch up the holes in his hose; another clapped his head betwixt his legs, to come at a breach upon his buttocks. Bosco19 never painted such variety of strange figures as I saw there; they botched, and the old woman supplied them with materials, rags and clouts of all the colours of the rainbow, which she had picked up on Saturday night.
When the mending time was over, as they called it, they all viewed one another narrowly to see what was amiss, in order to go abroad a-shifting. I told them I would have them order my dress, for I designed to lay out the hundred reals I had on a suit of clothes, and leave off my cassock. “That must not be,” said they, “let the money be put into the common stock; we will clothe him immediately out of our wardrobe, and appoint him his walk in the town, where he shall range and nibble for himself.” I consented, deposited the money, and in a trice they made me a mourning cloth coat out of my cassock, cut my long cloak into a short one, and trucked the remains of it for an old hat new dressed, making a hatband very neatly of some cotton picked out of inkhorns. They took off my band and wide-kneed breeches, and instead of these, put me on a pair of close hose, slashed only in front, for the sides and the back part were nothing but sheepskins. The silk stockings they gave me were not half stockings, for they reached but four fingers below the knees, the rest being covered with a tight pair of boots over my own red hose. The collar they gave me was all in rags, and when they put it on, they said, “The collar is somewhat imperfect on the sides and behind; if anybody looks at you, sir, you must be sure to turn about as they do, like the sunflower, which still moves as he does. If there happen to be two at once observing you on both sides, fall back; and to prevent being observed behind, let your hat hang down on your neck, so that the brim may cover the band, leaving all your forehead bare; and if anybody asks why you wear it so, tell him, it is because you dare show your face in any part of the world.” Next they gave me a box containing black and white thread, sewing silk, packthread, a needle, a thimble, bits of cloth, linen, and silk, with other shreds and scraps, and a knife. To my girdle they fastened a tinderbox, with steel and flint in a little pouch, saying,
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