Francisco de Quevedo

“ At the very name of priest and lay-elder Lucifer looked as pale as death, stood stone-still, as mute as a fish, and in his very looks discovered his apprehensions. After a little pause he roused himself as out of a trance: “A priest do ye say? a lay-elder? tyrants? lawyers? physicians? A composition to poison all the devils in hell, and purge their very guts out.” With that, away he went to visit the avenues and set his guards, and who should he met next but the meddler, in a monstrous haste and hurry. “Nay then,” says he, “here is the forerunner of ill-luck. ”

“ One sees young girls even, who repent of their faults. How many religions houses are founded by penitence! how many old coquettes give themselves up to devotion! how many men follow their example, after love has fled with beauty, constitution, and wealth!”
“But,” said the demon, “how many men and women, young and old, die in their amours, and count you for nothing the despair, the chagrin, the secret pains under which so many lovers have succumbed? Know you not that some temperaments are so affected by this passion, that they quit it but with life? ”

“ The satires have been visited by the destiny which invariably attends the works of wit which are dedicated to passing uses, when literature stoops to the service of politics.
But while the graver works of Quevedo, those which won him the applause of the learned and the favour of the great, have perished or are sunk into oblivion, there have survived enough of those lighter pieces born of his humour or his fancy, which he could scarcely be got to own in his lifetime, to keep his name alive and to secure for him a permanent place in literature. ”

“ Did I put any senator to death? Did I pillage the commonwealth? Did I not return, by my will, what I had amassed and conserved for her defence? Will they accuse me of tyranny and usurpation? I, who delivered the Romans from the ambition of a Pompey? Will they charge me with cruelty? I, who could not behold without weeping the head of my most inveterate enemy? Yes, I can truly say, that it was grief at the sad fate of Pompey, that invited me to declare war against Egypt. I was desirous of avenging the death of this great man. He would have made himself master of Rome if I had not prevented him ”

“ Every little whore takes upon her to be a great lady; every gown-man, to be a councillor; every huff to be a soldat; every gay thing to be a cavalier; every parish-clerk to be a doctor; and every writing-clerk in the office must be called Mr. Secretary.
“So that the whole world, take it where you will, is but a mere juggle; and you will find that wrath, gluttony, pride, avarice, luxury, murder, and a thousand other heinous sins, have all of them hypocrisy for their source, and thither they’ll return again.” ”

“ The flood which carried all the men of enterprise and independent spirit to Peru or to Mexico had left Spain drained of her best life-blood. The sudden influx of gold tended to sharpen the distinction between rich and poor—to make it more difficult for the poor to live, while spoiling them for honesty. The old Castilian simplicity of life was destroyed, and the antique honour, the legacy left by the heroic age which closed with the fall of Granada, corrupted. The new rich introduced luxuries and vices which till then had been alien to the Spanish character. ”

“ Are not the emperors gods as well during their lives as after their death? Were not Augustus and Cæsar adored in the empire? I was as much a god at the time I willed it, as my predecessors have been gods after their death. The divinity of men is nothing but a power superior to that of others, as the present divinity of Augustus is but a perfection above the virtues and qualities of living men. But who, among men of sense, has ever believed that the gods were like men? or adored in the statue any thing more than the virtue of the original? ”

“ Who knows, but I should be mad, or simple? swear, lie, cheat, whore; nay if I came off, with a little mortification of my carcase, as the stone, the scurvy, or the noble pox, I were a happy man. But oh the lodging, the diet, and the cookery that I am to expect for a matter of nine months in my mother’s belly; and then the butter and beer that must be spent to sweeten me, when I change my quarter. I must come crying into the world, and live in ignorance even of what life is till I die; and then as ignorant of death too, till ’tis passed. ”

“ I hate and abominate the painter who fills columns with the recital of his misfortunes, telling you how he lost his paint brush, or how he had never a canvas of the right size, and soulfully lamenting the degeneracy of an age which knows quite too much to appreciate him. I can almost worship a man who silently conquers a living death.
Vierge is an artist who, like all great artists, has worked for his art—and his bread and butter. ”

“ After this came a testator, cursing and raving like a bedlam, that he had made his last will and testament. “Ah villein!” said he, “for a man to murder himself as I have done! If I had not sealed, I had not died. Of all things, next a physician, deliver me from a testament. It has killed more than the pestilence. Oh miserable mortals, let the living take warning by the dead, and make no testaments. It was my hard luck, first to put my life into the physician’s power, and then, by making my will, to sign the sentence of death upon myself, and my own execution. ”

“ Lovers, you enhance our joy, for death hath separated you for ever.”—In imitation of Jupiter and Juno, Mercury and Mars sang thus: “Yes, while one remains in Tartarus, he cannot hope for other pleasures. The money which was our love, is lost for ever: we love it still, but despairing of enjoyment.”—Mars, with a voice of thunder, sang. “Yes, when one is in Tartarus, he must not hope for other pleasures. War, which was our delight, is no more for us, but a vain flourish: here one hears neither fife nor drum.” ”

“ He added, he was going to Madrid, because a threadbare elder brother, as he was, soon grew tainted and mouldy in a country town, and had no way to subsist; and therefore he was going to the common refuge of distressed persons, where there is room for all, and open house kept for wandering spongers: “And I never want five or six crowns in my pocket,” said he, “as soon as I am there, nor a good bed, meat, and drink, and sometimes a forbidden pleasure; for a good wit at Court is like the philosopher’s stone, which converts all it touches into gold.” ”

“ I prithee give it to the devil from me as a token of my love; for ’tis a present equal to the severest revenge. Nothing can ever destroy that Republic but conscience; and then you’ll say ’tis like to be long-lived; for if every man had his own, it would not be left worth a groat. To speak freely, ’tis an odd kind of common-wealth. ’Tis the very arse-gut, the drain and sink of monarchies, both in war and peace. ”

“ Oh, this is a holy man! he is full of conscience; every day constantly at church, his piety is exemplary. Behold the fate of a hypocrite: this knavery, is it any thing but a dead loss? for of what service is it to bigots to live in such uneasy constraint, if that does not procure them pleasure, property, or the gratification of their vanity?
“And I,” said a woman, “can I be accused of hypocrisy? My virtue, my science, my writings, do they not demonstrate the unfeignedness of my devotion? ”

“ This is the crowning merit of Quevedo’s book, among those of its class, that there are no shabby tricks played upon the reader, such as other writers of even higher pretensions are guilty of—no attempt to pass off a rogue as though he were a hero in distress—a creature deserving of sympathy, who is only treating the world as the world treated him—a victim of fortune, whose ill-usage by society justifies his attitude towards the social system. There is no sentiment expended over Paul of Segovia. There is no snivelling over his low condition, or railing at his unhappy lot. ”

“ I cursed the monks many and many a time, I remember, to the pit of hell, heaven forgive me for’t; for the strumpet would be perpetually gadding abroad, under colour of going to confession, and in sooth I was never any great friend to penance and mortification. And then would I be easing my mind ever and anon to this cursed Moor. ‘I cannot imagine,’ said I, ‘where this mistress of thine should commit all the sins that she goes every hour of the day to confess at yonder monastery.’ And then would this dog-Moor answer me. ”

“ Through all his changes of character and of costume he is still rogue, entire and perfect, without any sprouts of honesty or repinings after a better life. The naïveté with which he tells of his exploits, without boasting and without shame, is of the highest art—true to nature, nor offensive to morality. Whether he is cheating a jailer or bilking a landlady, dodging the alguacil or bamboozling the old poet, or befooling the nun, or tricking the bully, he is always true to himself, without affectation or conceit of being other than he is. ”

“ But ought we to be more wicked because we have less fear? Let us think, let us think upon the other world; let us seriously reflect upon our latter end; if that offers us happiness and rapture, let us, by perseverance, endeavour to attain it; but if, on the contrary, we anticipate unhappiness and anguish, let us spare no pains to escape so direful a doom; let the aspect of hell contribute to the reformation of our manners, and be so impressed upon our minds as to be the means of our salvation from the greatest of all evils. ”

“ Tell me,” says he, “if a brave prince had not better be damned than subject himself to hear one of these turdy-facy-paty-nasty lowsie-fartical rascals, with a scabbed head and a plantation of lice in his beard, and his eyes crept into the nape of his neck, pronouncing, for an aphorism, that a prince that looks only to one is a tyrant, and that a true king is the shepherd and servant of his people. Ah, rash and besotted coxcombs! If a king looks only to others, who shall look to him? ”

“ I cried for mere vexation, and they archly said, “It is all for your health’s good to be bemired; hold your peace.” This done, they washed me, laid me in the bed again, and went their way. Being left alone, I lay and considered, that what I had endured in one day at Alcalá was worse than all my sufferings under Cabra at the boarding-school. At noon I dressed me, cleaned my cloak and cassock the best I could, washing it like an old clout, and waited for my master, who, when he came, asked me, “How I did?” ”

“ If men have done you wrong, accuse your own hearts; they have done the injury of which you complain. A warrior, proud and gallant, is full of ardour for victory when a fair Amazon is the price of conquest; and on the other hand an Amazon fears to vanquish a young soldier whose amiable qualities have now disarmed her. So we re-commit to yourselves the examination of those affairs you have brought to our tribunal: do yourselves the justice I should do, if I examined the matter with more care, and let all women be convinced, they have no greater enemies than their own hearts. ”

“ He wrote lyrics with the grace, simplicity, and ease of Horace. He is as prodigal of humour as Rabelais, whom he resembles also in his unfastidiousness, his obscurity, and his extravagance. He has been likened to our English Swift, to whom he is akin in the quality of his mordant wit, and almost approaches in his anti-humanity; but he is lacking in the creative force of the author of Gulliver. Not unlike Swift was Quevedo in fortune as in genius, for it was disappointed ambition which wore out his heart and drove him to satire, to visions, and assaults on human folly and vice. ”

“ He there in the mortar is that Anaxarchus that was pounded to death by command of Nicocreon. He with the flat nose is Socrates; the little crump-shouldered wretch was the famous Aristotle; and t’other there, the divine Plato. Those in the corner are all of the same profession too, grave and learned philosophers, that have displeased tyrants with their writings; and, in fine, the world is stored with their works and hell with the authors. To come to the point, most mighty Lucifer, we are all of us dealers in politics, great writers and deep-read men in the maxims of State and Government. ”

“ I have a great mind to send these unfortunate persons home again.—Go; return, my friends; you have suffered great injustice.”
“And we also,” said the corps of bankrupts; for they had done them the honour to separate them from the merchants, who had dealt honestly.
“As to you, Signors,” said the devil, “enter into the furnace, without further examination: we leave it to the notaries to enter at pleasure; they have within them a torment as cruel as fire; it is conscience, that never yet respected any person.” ”

“ The words were scarce out of his mouth before a great he-mulatto stepped out of the next room, with a pair of whiskers like two brushes, a hat as big as an umbrella, a buff-doublet under a loose coat, bandy-legged, hook-nosed, and with two or three signs of the cross on his face, a dagger that might have served Goliath, and a hanging look, and said, “I am an approved master, and have my certificate about me, and by this light I’ll make an example of any man that dare presume to reflect upon so many brave fellows as profess the noble science.” ”

“ The vintner sweat as he walked, till one drop followed another; “That’s well done,” cried a devil at’s elbow, “to purge out thy water, that we may have none in our wine.” There was a tailor wrapped up in sarcenets, crook-fingered and baker-legged, spake not one word all the way he went, but alas! alas! how can any man be a thief that dies for want of bread? ”

“ When I had finished my business with this person, my dream caused me much reflection; the more I thought upon it, the closer seemed the resemblance to what is taking place in the world: in fact, it is Self-love that reigns, and these are the passions that govern us; and whoever could see the heart and soul of men, would find them arrant hypocrites. The world itself is the city of Hypocrisy. It is in this city, that interest, ambition, pleasure, vengeance, anger, and all other evil passions conceal themselves. ”