Lazarillo de Tormes and the Grifter (El Buscon) by David Frye

Author:David Frye
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hackett Publishing Company, Inc.
Published: 2014-12-26T04:04:00+00:00

5

My Arrival in Alcalá,

the Patent, and How They Hazed Me

Before nightfall we left the inn for the house we had rented, which sat beyond the Puerta de Santiago: a student lodging where many are packed close, though in ours there were only three individuals. The landlord and owner was one of those who believe in God for the sake of appearances or deceitfully. They call them Moriscos in that town, for they have an abundant crop of such people, as well as of those who have more nose than they know what to do with, except when it comes to smelling bacon. I say this while admitting to the great nobility to be found among the leading people of the town, which is indeed something.29 The landlord, anyway, received me worse than if I had been the Holy Sacrament. I am not even sure whether he did it because he wanted us to respect him or whether that is just his sort’s nature, since bad dispositions must come easily to those who do not follow the good law. We set down our luggage, set up our beds and the rest, and went to sleep for the night.

Day dawned, and there, half-dressed, stood all the students from the neighborhood, demanding my master pay them the “patent.” He had no idea what they were talking about, so he asked me what this “patent” was that they were demanding. Fearing what might happen, I had meanwhile squeezed in between two straw mattresses, leaving only half my face poking out like a turtle. The “patent” turned out to be the initiation fee they extorted from every new student. They were demanding two dozen reales, which were promptly handed over. With that, they lifted their voices in a devil of a yell: “Long live our schoolmate! Let him join our fellowship! Let him enjoy all the privileges of us old-timers: getting fleas, wearing unwashed clothes, and going hungry like the rest of us!”

And with that (just think, what privileges!), they flew down the stairs. We quickly dressed and headed for the classrooms. My master was adopted by some college boys who knew his father, and he went to their lecture hall. But since I was to attend a different hall and went there alone, I began to tremble. I entered the quad. Hardly had I set foot there when they confronted me and started saying, “Newcomer!” To conceal my fear, I took to laughing as if it made no difference to me. But that was not good enough, because eight or nine of them walked over to me and started laughing. I blushed. I wish to God I had not, since right away a fellow standing next to me pinched his nose, stepped back, and said, “This Lazarus must still be waiting to be raised from the dead, the way he stinks.”

At that, all the others stepped back and covered their noses. Thinking I could worm my way out of this, I also covered my nose and said, “You’re right, it really does smell bad.

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