So I stood at the door,thinking about these things and looking until my master had disappeared down the long,narrow street.Then I went back into the house,and in a second I walked through the whole place,both upstairs and down,without stopping or finding anything to stop for.I made up that blasted hard bed and took the jug down to the river.And I saw my master in a garden,trying hard to coax two veiled women--they looked like the kind that are always hanging around that place.In fact,a lot of them go there in the summer to take the early morning air.And they go down to those cool riverbanks to eat breakfast--without even bringing any food along;they're sure someone will give them some,since the men around there have got them in the habit of doing that.
As I say,there he was with them just like the troubador Macias,telling them more sweet words than Ovid ever wrote.And when they saw that he was pretty well softened up,they weren't ashamed to ask him for some breakfast,promising the usual payment.
But his pocketbook was as cold as his stomach was warm,and he began to have such hot chills that the color drained from his face,and he started to trip over his tongue and make up some lame excuses.
They must have been pretty experienced women because they caught on to his illness right away and left him there for what he was.
I'd been eating some cabbage stalks,and that was my breakfast.And since I was a new servant,I went back home very diligently without my master seeing me.I decided I'd sweep out a little there,since that's what the place really needed,but I couldn't find anything to sweep with.Then I began to think about what I should do,and I decided to wait until noon for my master because if he came he might bring something to eat;but that turned out to be a waste of time.
When I saw that it was getting to be two o'clock and he still hadn't come,I began to be attacked by hunger.So I locked the door and put the key where he told me to,and then I went back to my old trade.With a low,sickly voice,my hands crossed over my chest,and with my eyes looking up to heaven and God's name on my tongue,I began to beg for bread at the doors of the biggest houses I saw.But I'd been doing this almost from the cradle--I mean I learned it from that great teacher,the blind man,and I turned out to be a pretty good student--so even though this town had never been very charitable,and it had been a pretty lean year besides,I handled myself so well that before the clock struck four I had that many pounds of bread stored away in my stomach and at least two more in my sleeves and inside my shirt.
I went back to the house,and on my way through the meat market I begged from one of the women there,and she gave me a piece of cow's hoof along with some cooked tripe.
When I got home my good master was there,his cape folded and lying on the stone bench,and he was walking around in the patio.I went inside,and he came over to me.I thought he was going to scold me for being late,but God had something better in store.He asked me where I'd been,and I told him,"Sir,I was here until two o'clock,and when I saw that you weren't coming,I went to the city and put myself in the hands of the good people there,and they gave me what you see here."
I showed him the bread and the tripe that I was carrying in my shirttail,and his face lit up,and he said:'Well,I held up dinner for you,but when I saw that you weren't going to come,I went ahead and ate.But what you've done there is all right because it's better to beg in God's name than it is to steal.That's my opinion,so help me.The only thing I ask is that you don't tell anyone that you're living with me because it will hurt my honor.But I think it would stay a secret anyway,since hardly anyone in this town knows me.I wish I'd never come here!"
"Don't worry about that,sir,"I said."No one would give a damn about asking me that,and I wouldn't tell them even if they did."
"Well then,eat,you poor sinner.If it's God's will,we'll soon see ourselves out of these straits.But I want you to know that ever since I came to this house nothing has gone right for me.There must be an evil spell on it.You know there are some unlucky houses that are cursed,and the bad luck rubs off on the people who live in them.I don't doubt for a minute that this is one of them,but I tell you that after this month is over,I wouldn't live here even if they gave the place to me."
I sat down at the end of the stone bench,and I kept quiet about my snack so that he wouldn't take me for a glutton.So,for supper I began to eat my tripe and bread,while I was watching my poor master out of the corner of my eye.And he kept staring at my shirttail that I was using for a plate.I hope God takes as much pity on me as I felt for him.I knew just what he was feeling,since the same thing had happened to me lots of times--and,in fact,it was still happening to me.I thought about asking him to join me,but since he told me that he'd already eaten I was afraid he wouldn't accept the invitation.The fact is,I was hoping that the sinner would help himself to the food I had gone to the trouble of getting and that he'd eat the way he did the day before so he could get out of his own troubles.This was really a better time for it,since there was more food and I wasn't as hungry.
God decided to grant my wish--and his,too,I guess.Because he was still walking around,but when I began to eat,he came over to me and said,"I tell you,Lazaro,I've never seen anyone eat with as much gusto as you put into it.Anyone watching you would get hungry on the spot,even if he hadn't been before."
The marvelous appetite you have,I thought to myself,makes you think mine is beautiful.Still,I decided to help him,since he had opened up a way for me himself.So I said to him,"Sir,a man can do a good job if he has good tools.This bread is absolutely delicious,and the cow's hoof is so well cooked and seasoned that no one could possibly resist its taste."
"Is it cow's hoof?""Yes,sir."
"I tell you,there's no better dish in the world.I don't even like pheasant as much."
