There was no lack of guests at the Trojan Horse, where we had taken
up our abode at Valladolid. Amongst others who arrived during my
sojourn was a robust buxom dame, exceedingly well dressed in black
silk, with a costly mantilla. She was accompanied by a very
handsome, but sullen and malicious-looking urchin of about fifteen,
who appeared to be her son. She came from Toro, a place about a
day's journey from Valladolid, and celebrated for its wine. One
night, as we were seated in the court of the inn enjoying the
fresco, the following conversation ensued between us.
Lady. - Vaya, vaya, what a tiresome place is Valladolid! How
different from Toro.
Myself. - I should have thought that it is at least as agreeable as
Toro, which is not a third part so large.
Lady. - As agreeable as Toro! Vaya, vaya! Were you ever in the
prison of Toro, Sir Cavalier?
Myself. - I have never had that honour; the prison is generally the
last place which I think of visiting.
Lady. - See the difference of tastes: I have been to see the prison
of Valladolid, and it seems as tiresome as the town.
Myself. - Of course, if grief and tediousness exist anywhere, you
will find them in the prison.
Lady. - Not in that of Toro.
Myself. - What does that of Toro possess to distinguish it from all
others?
Lady. - What does it possess? Vaya! Am I not the carcelera? Is
not my husband the alcayde? Is not that son of mine a child of the
prison?
Myself. - I beg your pardon, I was not aware of that circumstance;
it of course makes much difference.
Lady. - I believe you. I am a daughter of that prison, my father
was alcayde, and my son might hope to be so, were he not a fool.
Myself. - His countenance then belies him strangely: I should be
loth to purchase that youngster for a fool.
Gaoleress. - You would have a fine bargain if you did; he has more
picardias than any Calabozero in Toro. What I mean is, that he
does not take to the prison as he ought to do, considering what his
fathers were before him. He has too much pride - too many fancies;
and he has at length persuaded me to bring him to Valladolid, where
I have arranged with a merchant who lives in the Plaza to take him
on trial. I wish he may not find his way to the prison: if he do,
he will find that being a prisoner is a very different thing from
being a son of the prison.
Myself. - As there is so much merriment at Toro, you of course
attend to the comfort of your prisoners.
Gaoleress. - Yes, we are very kind to them; I mean to those who are
caballeros; but as for those with vermin and miseria, what can we
do?
