Don Alonso resolved to send his son to a boarding school; both to wean him from his tender keeping at home, and at the same time to ease himself of that care. He was informed there was a master of arts in Segovia whose name was Cabra, that made it his business to breed up gentlemen’s sons;8 thither he sent his, and me to wait on him. The first Sunday after Lent we were brought into the house of famine, for it is impossible to express the penury of the place. The master was a skeleton, a mere shotten herring, or like a long slender cane, with a little head upon it, and red haired; so that there needs no more to be said to such as know the proverb, that “neither cat nor dog of that colour is good.” His eyes were sunk into his head, as if he had looked through a fruit bottle, or the deep windows in a linen draper’s shop; his nose turning up, and somewhat flat, for the bridge was almost carried away with an inundation of a cold rheum, for he never had the disease, because it costs money; his beard had lost its colour for fear of his mouth, which being so near, seemed to threaten to eat it for mere hunger; his teeth had many of them forsaken him for want of employment, or else were banished for being idle livers; his neck as long as a crane’s, with the gullet sticking out so far, as if it had been compelled by necessity to start out for sustenance; his arms withered; his hands like a bundle of twigs, each of them, taken downwards, looking like a fork or a pair of compasses; with long slender legs. He walked leisurely, and whensoever he happened to move anything faster his bones rattled like a pair of snappers. His voice was weak and hollow; his beard bushy and long, for he never trimmed to save charges, though he pretended it was so odious to him to feel the barber’s hands all over his face that he would rather die than endure it. One of the boys cut his hair. In fair weather he wore a threadbare cap, an inch thick in grease and dirt, made of a thing that was once cloth, and lined in scurf and dandruff. His cassock, some said, was miraculous, for no man knew what colour it was of; some seeing no sign of hair on it, concluded it was made of frogs’ skins; others said it was a mere shadow, or a phantom; near at hand it looked somewhat black, and at a distance bluish. He wore no girdle, cuffs, nor band; so that his long hair and scanty short cassock made him look like the messenger of death. Each shoe might have served for a Philistine’s coffin. As for his chamber, there was not so much as a cobweb in it, the spiders being all starved to death. He put spells upon the mice, for fear they should gnaw some scraps of bread he kept. His bed was on the floor, and he always lay upon one side, for fear of wearing out the sheets; in short, he was the Arch-pauper and Proto-miser. Into this prodigy’s hands I fell, and lived under him with Don Diego. The night we came, he showed us our room, and made us a short speech, which was no longer, out of mere good husbandry. He told us how we were to behave ourselves, and the next morning we were employed till dinner time; thither we went, the masters dined first, and the servants waited. The dining-room was as big as a half peck; five gentlemen could eat in it at one table. I looked about for the cat, and seeing none, asked a servant, who was an old hand, and in his leanness bore the mark of the boarding school, how it came they had none? The tears stood in his eyes, and he said, “What do you talk of cats? Pray who told you that cats loved penance and mortification? Your fat sides show you are a newcomer.” This, to me, was the beginning of sorrow; but I was worse scared, when I observed that all those who were before us in the house looked like so many pictures of death. Master Cabra said grace, and sat down, and they ate a meal, which had neither beginning nor end. They brought the broth in wooden dishes, but it was so clear, that Narcissus going to drink of it would be in worse danger than at the fountain. I observed how eagerly they all dived down after a poor single pea that was in every dish. Every sip he gave, Cabra cried, “By my troth there is no dainty like the olla, or boiled meat and broth. Let the world say what it will, all the rest is mere gluttony and extravagancy.” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he belched out all the porrenger, saying, “This is good for the health, and sharpens the wit.” A curse on thee and thy wit, thought I, and at the same time saw a servant like a walking ghost, and no more substantial, bring in a dish of meat, which looked as if he had picked it off his bones. Among it was one poor stray turnip, at whose sight the master said, “What, have we turnips today? No partridge is, in my opinion, to compare to them. Eat heartily, for I love to see you eat.” He gave everyone such a wretched bit of meat, that I believe it all stuck to their nails, and between their teeth, so that no part of it ever went into their bellies. Cabra looked on, and said, “Eat away, for it is a pleasure to me to see what good stomachs you have.” Think what a comfort this was for them that were pining with hunger! When dinner was over, there remained some scraps of bread on the table, and a few hits of skin and bones in the dish, and the master said, “Let this be left for the servants; they must dine too; it is not for us to gormandize all.” A vengeance on thee, and may what thou hast eaten choke thee, thou wretched miser! thought I; what a consternation have you put my guts into! He gave thanks, and said, “Now let us give way to the servants, and go ye use some exercise until two of the clock, lest your dinner do you harm.” I could no longer forbear laughing for my life, but burst out into a loud fit. He was very angry, and bid me learn to behave myself modestly, ripping up two or three old mouldy sentences, and so went his way. We sat down, and I seeing such short commons, and hearing my guts roar for provender, being cunning and stronger than the rest, clapped both hands in the dish, as others did, and whipped down two scraps of bread out of three there were left, and one piece of skin. The others began to murmur, and making a noise, in came Cabra, saying, “Eat lovingly together like brethren, since God provides for you; do not fall out, for there is enough for you all.” This said, he returned to sun himself, and left us to ourselves. I declare it, there was one of these servants, his name Surre, a Biscayner, who had so absolutely forgot the way and method of eating, that he put a small bit of crust, which fell to his share, to his eyes twice, and even the third time knew not how to carry it to his mouth. I asked for drink; the rest, who had scarce broke their fast, never thinking of it, and they gave me a dish with some water, which I had no sooner laid to my lips, but the sharp-gutted lad I spoke of, snatched it away, as if I had been Tantalus and that the flitting river he stands in up to the chin.

Thus we passed on till night. Don Diego asked me how he should do to persuade his guts that they had dined, for they would not believe it. That house was an hospital of dizzy heads, proceeding from empty stomachs, as others are of surfeits. Suppertime came, for afternoonings were never heard of there; it was much shorter than the dinner, and not mutton, but a little roasted goat: sure the devil could never have contrived worse. Our starveling Master Cabra said, “It is very wholesome and beneficial to eat light suppers, that the stomach may not be overburdened”; and then he quoted some cursed physician, that was long since in hell. He extolled spare diet, alleging that it prevented uneasy dreams, though he knew that in his house it was impossible to dream of anything but eating. They supped, and we supped, and none had supper. We went to bed, and neither Don Diego nor I could sleep one wink all that night, for he lay contriving how to complain to his father, that he might remove him, and I advising him so to do; and at last I said to him, “Pray, sir, are you sure we are alive, for, to tell you the truth, I have a strong fancy that we were slain in the battle with the herb-women, and are now souls suffering in purgatory, in which case it will be to no purpose to talk of your father’s fetching us away, without he has our souls prayed out of this place of punishment.” Having spent the whole night in this discourse, we got a little nap towards morning, till it was time to rise; six o’clock struck, Cabra called, and we all went to school; but when I went to dress me, my doublet was two handfuls too big; and my breeches, which before were close, now hung so loose as if they had been none of my own. My very teeth were already all furred, and looked as yellow as amber; such a wonderful change had one day wrought. When we came to school, I was ordered to decline some nouns, and was so wonderful hungry, that I ate half my words for want of more substantial diet. Any man will easily believe this, who does but hear what Cabra’s man told me, which was, that at his first coming he saw two great Flanders geldings brought into the house, and two days after they went out perfect racers, so light, that the very wind would carry them away; that he saw mastiff dogs come in, and in less than three hours they went out converted into greyhounds; that one Lent he saw abundance of men, some thrusting their heads, some their feet, and some their whole body, into the porch; and this continued a long time, very many people flocking from all parts to do so; and that he asking one day, what could be the meaning of it, Cabra was very angry, but one in the crowd answered, “Some of those people are troubled with chilblains, others with the itch, and others with lice; all which distempers and vermin died as soon as they came into that house, so that they never felt them more.” He assured me this was very true, and I, who was acquainted with the house, believe it, which I am fain to take notice of, lest what I say should be looked upon as an hyperbole.

To return to the school, he set us our lesson, and we conned it, and so we went on in the same course of life I have here delivered, only that our master added bacon in the boiling of his pot, because going abroad one day, he was told that to boil meat without bacon, betokened a scandalous race descended either from Moors or Jews. For this reason he provided a small tin case, all full of holes, like a nutmeg-grater, which he opened, and put in a bit of bacon that filled it; then shutting the box close, hung it with a string in the pot, that some relish of it might come through the holes, and the bacon remain for the next day. Afterwards he thought this too great an expense, and therefore for the future only dipped the bacon into the pot. It is easy to guess what a life we led with this sort of diet and usage. Don Diego and I were in such miserable condition, that since we could find no relief as to eating, after a month was expired, we contrived, at last, not to rise so early in the morning, and therefore resolved to pretend we were sick, but not feverish, because that cheat we thought would be easily discovered. The head or toothache were inconsiderable distempers; at last we said we had the gripes, believing, that rather than be at a penny charges, our master would apply no remedy. The devil ordered worse than we expected, for Cabra had an old receipt, which descended to him by inheritance from his father, who was an apothecary. As soon as he was told our distemper, he prepared a clyster, and sending for an old aunt of his, threescore and ten years of age, that served him for a nurse upon occasion, ordered her to give each of us a potion. She began with Don Diego; the poor wretch shrunk up, and the old jade being blind, and her hands shaking, instead of giving him it inwardly, let it fly betwixt his shirt and his back up to his very poll; so that became an outward ornament which should have served for a lining within. Only God knows how we were plagued with the old woman. She was so deaf, that she heard nothing, but understood by signs, though she was half blind; and such an everlasting prayer, that one day the string of her beads broke over the pot as it was boiling, and our broth came to table sanctified. Some said, “These are certainly black Ethiopian peas”; others cried they were in mourning, and wondered what relation of theirs was dead. Our master happened to bite one of them, and it pleased God that he broke his teeth.

On Fridays the old woman would dress us some eggs, but so full of her reverend grey hairs, that they appeared no less aged then herself. It was a common practice with her to dip the fire-shovel into the pot instead of the ladle, and to serve up porrengers of broth stuffed with coals, vermin, chips, and knots of flax she used to spin, all which she threw in to fill up and cram the guts. In this misery we continued till the next Lent, at the beginning of which one of our companions fell sick. Cabra, to save charges, delayed sending for a physician, till the patient was just giving up the ghost and desired to prepare for another world; then he called a young quack, who felt his pulse, and said, “Hunger had been beforehand with him, and prevented his killing that man.” These were his last words; the poor lad died, and was buried meanly because he was a stranger. This struck a terror into all that lived in the house; the dismal story flew all about the town, and came at last to Don Alonso Coronel’s ears, who having no other son, began to be convinced of Cabra’s inhumanity, and to give more credit to the words of two mere shadows, for we were no better at that time. He came to take us from the boarding school, and asked for us, though we stood before him; so that finding us in such a deplorable condition, he gave our pinch-gut master some hard words. We were carried away in two chairs, taking leave of our famished companions, who followed us, as far as they could, with their eyes and wishes, lamenting and bewailing, as those do who remain slaves at Algiers when their other associates are ransomed.