When I saw what tree he was barking up,I began to eat faster.Because I realized that if he finished before I did,he would be nice enough to help me with what was left.So we finished almost at the same time.And he began to brush off a few crumbs--very tiny ones--that were left on his shirt.Then he went into a little room nearby and brought out a chipped-up jug--not a very new one--and after he had drunk,he offered it to me.But,so I would look like a teetotaler,I said,"Sir,I don't drink wine."
"It's water,"he said."You can drink that."
Then I took the jug,and I drank.But not much,because being thirsty wasn't exactly my trouble.So that's how we spent the day until nighttime:him asking me questions and me answering as best I could.Then he took me to the room where the jug that we'd drunk from was,and he said to me,"Boy,get over there,and I'll show you how this bed is made up so that you'll be able to do it from now on."
I went down to one end,and he went over to the other,and we made up the blasted bed.There really wasn't much to do:it just had a bamboo frame sitting on some benches,and on top of that there was a filthy mattress with the bedclothes stretched over it.And since it hadn't been washed very often,it really didn't look much like a mattress.But that's what it was used for,though there was a lot less stuffing than it needed.We stretched it out and tried to soften it up.But that was impossible because you can't make a really hard object soft.And that blessed packsaddle had hardly a damned thing inside of it.When it was put on the frame,every strut showed through,and it looked just like the rib cage of a real skinny pig.And on top of that starving pad he put a cover of the same stamp:I never could decide what color it was.With the bed made and night on us,he said to me,"Lazaro,it's late now,and it's a long way from here to the square.And besides,there are a lot of thieves who go around stealing at night in this city.Let's get along as well as we can,and tomorrow,when it's daytime,God will be good to us.I've been living alone,and so I haven't stocked up any groceries:instead,I've been eating out.But from now on we'll do things differently."
"Sir,"I said,"don't worry about me.I can spend one night--or more,if I have to--without eating."
"You'll live longer and you'll be healthier too,"he answered."Because as we were saying today,there's nothing in the world like eating moderately to live a long life."
If that's the way things are,I thought to myself,I never will die.Because I've always been forced to keep that rule,and with my luck I'll probably keep it all my life.
And he lay down on the bed,using his pants and jacket as a pillow.He told me to stretch out at his feet,so I did.But I didn't get a damned bit of sleep!The frame struts and my protruding bones didn't stop squabbling and fighting all night long.With all the pains,hunger,and trouble I'd been through,I don't think there was a pound of flesh left on my body.And since I'd hardly had a bite to eat that day,I was groveling in hunger--and hunger and sleep don't exactly make good bedfellows.So I cursed myself (God forgive me!)and my bad luck over and over,nearly all night long.And what was worse,I didn't dare to turn over because I might wake him up.So I just kept asking God for death.
When morning came we got up,and he began to shake out and clean his pants and jacket and his coat and cape (while I stood around like an idle servant!).And he took his own good time about getting dressed.I brought some water for him to wash his hands,and then he combed his hair and put his sword in the belt,and while he was doing that,he said:"If you only knew what a prize this is,boy!I wouldn't sell it for any amount of money in the world.And I'll have you know that of all the swords the famous Toledan swordmaker Antonio made,there isn't one that he put as sharp an edge on as this one has."
And he pulled it out of the sheath and felt it with his fingers and said,
"Look here.I'll bet I could slice a ball of wool with it."And I thought to myself:And with my teeth--even though they're not made of steel--I could slice a four-pound loaf of bread.
He put it back in the sheath and strapped it on,and then he hung a string of large beads from the sword belt.And he walked slowly,holding his body straight and swaying gracefully as he walked.And every so often he would put the tail of the cape over his shoulder or under his arm.And with his right hand on his side,he went out the door,saying,"Lazaro,while I go to mass,you watch the house.Make the bed and fill the pitcher up with water from the river just down below us.Be sure to lock the door so that nothing will get stolen,and put the key on the hinge here so that if I come back while you're gone I can get in."
Then he went up the street with such a stately expression and manner that anyone who didn't know him would think he was a close relative to the Count of Arcos,or at least his valet.
I stood there,thinking:"Bless You,Lord--You give us sickness and You cure us too!My master looks so content that anyone who saw him would think he'd eaten a huge supper last night and slept in a nice bed.And even though it's early in the morning,they'd think he'd had a good breakfast.Your ways are mighty mysterious,Lord,and people don't understand them!With that refined way he acts and that nice-looking cape and coat he'd fool anyone.And who would believe that that gracious man got by all day yesterday on a piece of bread that his servant Lazaro had carried all day and night inside his shirt for safekeeping--not really the most sanitary place in the world--and that today when he washed his hands and face,he dried them on his shirttail because we didn't have any towels?Nobody would suspect it,of course.Oh Lord,how many of these people do You have scattered around the world who suffer for the filth that they call honor what they would never suffer for You!"
