LAZARILLO DE TORMES AND HIS MASTER.

New Zealand Times, Volume XXX, Issue 4553, 23 October 1875, Page 2 (Supplement)

LAZARILLO DE TORMES AND HIS MASTER.

The Eacudoro is pure comedy, and full of humor of the highest sort. He is the prototype of the starving cavalier of Spanish fiction, that queer combination of punctiliousness and penury that has come to be regarded as one of the characteristic products of the Iberian soil. At first Lazarillo was enchanted at the idea of serving such a master, who with his “ decorous and well brushed garments, and orderly gait and demeanour,” was a strong contrast to the beggar and the priest; but before the first day was over he found ho had not materially bettered himself. The squire asked if he had dined. Lazarillo said “No.” “ Ah, well,” said the squire, “ I have ; so you must do the best you can until supper time,” Lazarillo had acquired a kind of rough-and-ready philosophy that served him on such occasions ; eatiug, he said, was a thing that, thank God, never troubled him much. “A true virtue that," said the squire, “ and I like you all the better for it ; pigs stuff themselves, but gentlemen should eat sparingly.” In obedience to the squire’s bidding to do the best he could, Lazarillo brought out some crusts whichhadbeen given himin charity. “What haveyou got there 2” said the squire, taking up one of the pieces. “My life ! what good bread this seems; where did you get it 2 was it kneaded by clean hands 2” Lazarillo could only tell him there was nothing in its flavor that went against his stomach. “By the Lord, most savoux - y bread it is,” said the squire, taking a fierce mouthful (ficro bocado) ; and between them they soon made an end of the crusts. When suppertime came the squire explained that it was a long way to the Plaza and there were robbers about, and they must do the best they could till morning. Morning came, he rose, brushed his cloak and doublet scrupulously, put them on carefully, adjusted his sword accurately, and bidding Lazarillo fill the pitcher and mind the house, “he walked away up the street with such a genteel air and gait that anyone who did not know him would have taken him for a near relation of the Count of Arcos, or at least his chamberlain ; at any rate no one would have suspected he had not supped well overnight, slept on a good bed, nor eaten a hearty breakfast.” Lazarillo perceived that, although he was servant to a gentleman of quality, he must ply his old trade ; so he went out abeggiug, and came back with some scraps of bread and a piece of cowheel. His master was before him, and commended his prudence. “ I waited for yon,” said he ; “ but as you did not come X dined alone. You have done well, however; only don’t let them know you are living with me, for that touches my honor.” Lazarillo sat down to his dinner, but he noticed that the poor squire could not keep his eyes off the bread and cowheel.” “ May God have as much pity for me,” he says, “ as I had for him at that moment ; well did I know what ailed him, for I had felt it myself many a time.” He wished to invite his master to share with him, but how could he ask a man who said he had just dined 2 The squire himself, however, settled the matter. “ Lazarillo,” said he, “ do you know I never saw anyone eat with such a good grace os you do 2 To look at you is enough to make a man hungry, even though he has no appetite.” “ Good tackle, sir, makes a good workman,” said Lazarillo; “ this bread is very toothsome, and this cowheel is well boiled and seasoned.” “ What 2” said the squire, “ cowheel! why that's the very best morsel in .the world ! to my taste it is better than pheasant.” “ Then, try a bit, sir,” said Lazarillo, putting a piece into his hands. “Ah !” said the squire, gnawing at it, Lazarillo says, like a hungry hound; “now with a little garlic sauce this would be rare eating.” In fine, the dinner was such a success that it became a precedent, and every morning the squire went forth “ with his measured step and correct carriage to take the air in the streets,” while Lazarillo jdayed the part of jackal.— . From “ Lazarillo de Tonnes,” in the “ Cornhill Magazine.” .