Lazarillo de Tormes: A Dual-Language Book

Lazarillo de Tormes: A Dual-Language Book

Paperback(Bilingual)

$8.95
View All Available Formats & Editions
Members save with free shipping everyday! 
See details

Overview



The first picaresque novel, and one of the gems of Spanish literature. A brief, simply told tale of a rogue's adventures and misadventures — full of laconic cynicism and spiced with puns and wordplay. Introduction, Notes, and new English translation by Stanley Appelbaum.

Product Details

ISBN-13: 9780486414317
Publisher: Dover Publications
Publication date: 03/09/2001
Series: Dover Dual Language Spanish
Edition description: Bilingual
Pages: 128
Sales rank: 312,392
Product dimensions: 5.50(w) x 8.50(h) x (d)

About the Author



Stanley Appelbaum served for decades as Dover's Editor in Chief until his retirement in 1996. He continues to work as a selector, compiler, editor, and translator of literature in a remarkable range of languages that includes Spanish, Italian, French, German, and Russian.

Read an Excerpt

Lazarillo de Tormes

Anonymous A Dual-Language Book


By STANLEY APPELBAUM

Dover Publications, Inc.

Copyright © 2001 Dover Publications, Inc.
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-0-486-12000-3



CHAPTER 1

Cuenta Lázaro su vida y cúyo hijo fue


Pues sepa Vuestra Merced ante todas cosas que a mí llaman Lázaro de Tormes, hijo de Tomé Gonzales y de Antona Pérez, naturales de Tejares, aldea de Salamanca. Mi nacimiento fue dentro del río Tormes, por la cual causa tomé el sobrenombre, y fue desta manera: mi padre, que Dios perdone, tenía cargo de proveer una molienda de una aceña que está ribera de aquel río, en la cual fue molinero más de quince años; y estando mi madre una noche en la aceña, preñada de mí, tomóle el parto y parióme allí; de manera que con verdad me puedo decir nacido en el río.

Pues siendo yo niño de ocho años, achacaron a mi padre ciertas sangrías mal hechas en los costales de los que allí a moler venían, por lo cual fue preso, y confesó, y no negó, y padeció persecución por justicia. Espero en Dios que está en la Gloria, pues el Evangelio los llama bienaventurados. En este tiempo se hizo cierta armada contra moros, entre los cuales fue mi padre, que a la sazón estaba desterrado por el desastre ya dicho, con cargo de acemilero de un caballero que allá fue; y con su señor, como leal criado, feneció su vida.

Mi viuda madre, como sin marido y sin abrigo se viese, determinó arrimarse a los buenos por ser uno dellos, y vínose a vivir a la ciudad, y alquiló una casilla, y metióse a guisar de comer a ciertos estudiantes, y lavaba la ropa a ciertos mozos de caballos del Comendador de la Magdalena; de manera que fue frecuentando las caballerizas.

Ella y un hombre moreno, de aquellos que las bestias curaban, vinieron en conocimiento. Este algunas veces se venía a nuestra casa, y se iba a la mañana; otras veces de día llegaba a la puerta, en achaque de comprar huevos, y entrábase en casa. Yo, al principio de su entrada, pesábame con él y habíale miedo, viendo el color y mal gesto que tenía; mas de que vi que con su venida mejoraba el comer, fuile queriendo bien, porque siempre traía pan, pedazos de carne, y en el invierno leños, a que nos calentábamos.

De manera que, continuando la posada y conversación, mi madre vino a darme un negrito muy bonito, el cual yo brincaba y ayudaba a calentar. Y acuérdome que estando el negro de mi padrastro trebajando con el mozuelo, como el niño vía a mi madre y a mí blancos, y a él no, huía dél con miedo para mi madre, y señalando con el dedo decía: "¡Madre, coco!" Respondió él riendo: "¡Hideputa!" Yo, aunque bien mochacho, noté aquella palabra demi hermanico, y dije entre mí: "¡Cuántos debe de haber en el mundo que huyen de otros porque no se veen a sí mesmos!"

Quiso nuestra fortuna que la conversación del Zaide, que así se llamaba, llegó a oídos del mayordomo, y hecha pesquisa, hallóse que la mitad por medio de la cebada que para las bestias le daban hurtaba; y salvados, leña, almohazas, mandiles, y las mantas y sábanas de los caballos hacía perdidas; y cuando otra cosa no tenía, las bestias desherraba, y con todo esto acudía a mi madre para criar a mi hermanico. No nos maravillemos de un clérigo ni fraile porque el uno hurta de los pobres, y el otro de casa para sus devotas y para ayuda de otro tanto, cuando a un pobre esclavo el amor le animaba a esto.

Y probósele cuanto digo y aun más, porque a mí, con amenazas, me preguntaban, y como niño respondía y descubría cuanto sabía con miedo, hasta ciertas herraduras que por mandado de mi madre a un herrero vendí. Al triste de mi padrastro azotaron y pringaron, y a mi madre pusieron pena por justicia, sobre el acostumbrado centenario, que en casa del sobredicho Comendador no entrase ni al lastimado Zaide en la suya acogiese.

Por no echar la soga tras el caldero, la triste se esforzó y cumplió la sentencia; y por evitar peligro y quitarse de malas lenguas, se fue a servir a los que al presente vivían en el mesón de la Solana; y allí, padeciendo mil importunidades, se acabó de criar mi hermanico hasta que supo andar, y a mí hasta ser buen mozuelo, que iba a los huéspedes por vino y candelas y por lo demás que me mandaban.

En este tiempo vino a posar al mesón un ciego, el cual, pareciéndole que yo sería para adestralle, me pidió a mi madre, y ella me encomendó a él diciéndole cómo era hijo de un buen hombre, el cual, por ensalzar la fe, había muerto en la de los Gelves, y que ella confiaba en Dios no saldría peor hombre que mi padre, y que le rogaba me tratase bien y mirase por mí, pues era huérfano. Él respondió que así lo haría y que me recibía no por mozo, sino por hijo. Y así le comencé a servir y adestrar a mi nuevo y viejo amo.

Como estuvimos en Salamanca algunos días, pareciéndole a mi amo que no era la ganancia a su contento, determinó irse de allí, y cuando nos hubimos de partir yo fui a ver a mi madre, y ambos llorando, me dio su bendición y dijo: —Hijo, ya sé que no te veré más; procura de ser bueno, y Dios te guíe; criado te he y con buen amo te he puesto, válete por ti.

Y así, me fui para mi amo, que esperándome estaba. Salimos de Salamanca, y llegando a la puente, está a la entrada della un animal de piedra, que casi tiene forma de toro, y el ciego mandóme que llegase cerca del animal, y allí puesto, me dijo: —Lázaro, llega el oído a este toro y oirás gran ruido dentro dél.

Yo simplemente llegué, creyendo ser ansí; y como sintió que tenía la cabeza par de la piedra, afirmó recio la mano y diome una gran calabazada en el diablo del toro, que más de tres días me duró el dolor de la cornada, y díjome: —Necio, aprende, que el mozo del ciego un punto ha de saber más que el diablo.

Y rió mucho la burla. Parecióme que en aquel instante desperté de la simpleza en que, como niño, dormido estaba. Dije entre mí: "Verdad dice éste, que me cumple avivar el ojo y avisar, pues solo soy, y pensar cómo me sepa valer."

Comenzamos nuestro camino, y en muy pocos días me mostró jerigonza; y como me viese de buen ingenio, holgábase mucho y decía: "Yo oro ni plata no te lo puedo dar; mas avisos para vivir muchos te mostraré." Y fue ansí, que, después de Dios, éste me dio la vida, y siendo ciego me alumbró y adestró en la carrera de vivir. Huelgo de contar a Vuestra Merced estas niñerías para mostrar cuánta virtud sea saber los hombres subir siendo bajos, y dejarse bajar siendo altos cuánto vicio.

Pues tornando al bueno de mi ciego y contando sus cosas, Vuestra Merced sepa que desde que Dios crió el mundo, ninguno formó más astuto ni sagaz. En su oficio era un águila: ciento y tantas oraciones sabía de coro; un tono bajo, reposado y muy sonable, que hacía resonar la iglesia donde rezaba; un rostro humilde y devoto, que con muy buen continente ponía cuando rezaba, sin hacer gestos ni visajes con boca ni ojos como otros suelen hacer. Allende desto, tenía otras mil formas y maneras para sacar el dinero. Decía saber oraciones para muchos y diversos efectos: para mujeres que no parían, para las que estaban de parto, para las que eran malcasadas, que sus maridos las quisiesen bien. Echaba pronósticos a las preñadas si traía hijo o hija. Pues en caso de medicina, decía que Galeno no supo la mitad que él para muela, desmayos, males de madre. Finalmente, nadie le decía padecer alguna pasión, que luego no le decía: "Haced esto, haréis estotro, coged tal yerba, tomad tal raíz." Con esto andábase todo el mundo tras él, especialmente mujeres, que cuanto les decía, creían. Déstas sacaba él grandes provechos con las artes que digo, y ganaba más en un mes que cien ciegos en un año.

Mas también quiero que sepa Vuestra Merced que con todo lo que adquiría y tenía, jamás tan avariento ni mezquino hombre no vi, tanto que me mataba a mí de hambre, y así no me demediaba de lo necesario. Digo verdad: si con mi sotileza y buenas mañas no me supiera remediar, muchas veces me finara de hambre; mas con todo su saber y aviso le contaminaba de tal suerte, que siempre, o las más veces, me cabía lo más y mejor. Para esto le hacía burlas endiabladas, de los cuales contaré algunas, aunque no todas a mi salvo.


Lázaro Tells the Story of His Life and Whose Son He Was

Well, Your Honor should know first of all that I'm called Lázaro of Tormes, son of Tomé Gonzales and Antona Pérez, natives of Tejares, a village just outside Salamanca. My birth took place within the river Tormes, on account of which I adopted this surname, and it happened this way: My father, may God forgive him, was assigned to supervising the grinding of grain at a water mill located on the banks of that river; he was miller there for more than fifteen years. One night when my mother, pregnant with me, was in the mill, she was seized with her labor pains and gave birth to me there. And so I can truly say I was born in the river.

Well, when I was a boy of eight, my father was accused of some careless "blood-lettings" in the sacks of those who brought their grain to be ground there. On that account he was arrested, confessed and didn't deny it, and suffered punishment at the hands of justice. I hope to God that he's in glory, because the Gospel says that those who are persecuted for the sake of justice are blessed. At that time a certain naval expedition was mounted against the Moors, and my father was among them, being in exile at the time because of the abovementioned misfortune. He was serving as a mule driver for a knight who was there; like a loyal servant, he died along with his master.

My widowed mother, finding herself without a husband or a roof over her head, decided to "throw in her lot with the good people, and so join their number." She moved into town, rented a little house, and began to cook meals for some of the university students; she also did laundry for some stable hands in the employ of the Knight Commander of the Church of the Magdalen, so that she frequented the stables. She and a black man, one of those who took care of the horses, got to know each other very well. Sometimes he would come to our house and leave in the morning; other times he would come to our door in the daytime with the pretext of buying eggs, and would then come inside. When he first started visiting us, I disliked him and was afraid of him because of his color and his ugly face; but as soon as I realized that his visits meant better food for us, I grew to like him, because he always brought along bread, pieces of meat, and, in the wintertime, firewood for keeping us warm.

And so, as his stay with us and his intimacy with my mother continued, she finally presented me with a very cute little black brother, whom I used to dandle and help tuck in. And I remember that, once, when my unhappy stepfather was playing with the little boy, the child, seeing that my mother and I were white but his father wasn't, was frightened by him, took refuge with my mother, and pointed at him, saying: "Mommy, the bogeyman!" Laughing, he replied: "You rascal!" Though I was still a boy, I took notice of what my little brother said, and I thought to myself: "How many people there must be in the world who shun others because they can't see themselves!"

As our bad luck would have it, my mother's intimacy with Zaid, for that was his name, came to the attention of the Knight Commander's steward. When he investigated, it was discovered that my stepfather was stealing half of the barley he was given for the horses; he was pretending that bran, wood, currycombs, rubdown towels, and horse blankets and cloths were being lost. When he found nothing else to take, he used to unshoe the horses. He used all this to help my mother raise my little brother. Let's not be surprised when a priest steals from the poorbox to support his sweethearts, or when a friar plunders his monastery to help out his own "lady devotees," if a poor slave was emboldened to do this out of love.

All the charges against him that I've mentioned, and more, were proved, because they interrogated me with threats and, child that I was, my fear led me to answer and reveal all I knew, even confessing that, at my mother's request, I had sold some horseshoes to a blacksmith. My unfortunate stepfather was flogged and had hot fat dripped onto his wounds. My mother's sentence, over and above the usual hundred lashes, was never again to enter the house of the above-mentioned Knight Commander nor to receive the wounded Zaid in her own house.

So as not to make a bad matter worse, the unhappy woman took heart and complied with the sentence. In order to avoid danger and free herself from slander, she became a servant of the people who were then running the Solana tavern. There, suffering a thousand annoyances, she managed to raise my little brother until he could walk, and me until I was quite a big boy. I used to fetch wine and candles for the customers, and whatever else they sent me for.

At that time a blind man came to stay at the inn. Thinking I would make a suitable guide for him, he asked my mother for me. She entrusted me to him, telling him that I was the son of a good man who, in an effort to exalt our religion, had died on the expedition to Los Gelves; she trusted in God that I wouldn't turn out to be a worse man than my father, and she asked him to treat me well and look after me, because I was an orphan. He answered that he would, and that he was taking me on not as a servant but as a son. And so I began to serve and guide my master, who was both new and old.

After we had been in Salamanca several days, my master felt that he wasn't earning as much as he would like, and he decided to leave. When we were to set out, I went to see my mother. We both wept, and she gave me her blessing, saying: "Son, I know now that I'll never see you again. Try to be a good boy, and may God direct your ways. I've brought you up and I've placed you with a good master. Take care of yourself."

And so I went to meet my master, who was waiting for me. We left Salamanca and came to the bridge. At the city end of it, there's a stone figure of an animal, that looks something like a bull. The blind man ordered me to go up to the animal. When I was standing there, he said: "Lázaro, put your ear next to this bull, and you'll hear a big noise inside it."

In my naïveté, I did so, believing what he said. When he sensed that my head was alongside the stone, he stiffened his hand and knocked my head hard against that damned bull, so that the pain of the "goring" lasted more than three days, and he said: "Dumbbell, learn that a blind man's boy needs to know a little more than the Devil does."

And he had a good laugh over his trick. I felt that at that very moment I awoke from the naïveté in which I had been childishly sleeping. I said to myself: "He's speaking the truth: it's up to me to keep my eyes peeled and to stay alert, because I'm alone in the world, and to plan how to look after myself."

We began our journey, and in a very few days he taught me his professional jargon; finding that I was a bright boy, he was very pleased, and he'd say: "I can't give you gold or silver, but I can give you plenty of advice on how to live." And so, after God, this man gave me life again and, though blind, he illumined and guided me on my path through existence. I take the time to recount these childish matters to Your Honor to show you what a great virtue it is when men of low condition are able to rise in life, and what a great vice it is when people high up let themselves slip down.

Well, to get back to my good blind man and to tell you about him, Your Honor should know that ever since God created the world, He never fashioned a shrewder or wiser man. He was an ace at his calling: he knew over a hundred prayers by heart; his voice was deep, calm, and very resonant, so that it rang through any church where he was praying; his face was humble and pious, and he controlled it carefully when he prayed, and didn't make grimaces and "faces" with his mouth or eyes as others generally do. In addition, he had a thousand other ways and means to get people's money. He told them that he knew prayers for many different purposes: for women who had no children, for those in childbirth, for those unhappily married, to make their husbands love them. He predicted to pregnant women whether they would have a boy or a girl. Then, when it came to curing, he said that Galen didn't know half of what he did about toothache, fainting spells, and inflammations of the womb. Lastly, no one reported any ailment to him without his replying at once: "Do this, do that, take this herb, use this root." And so everyone trailed at his heels, especially the women, who believed everything he told them. He used to make great profit from them with the ruses I've mentioned, and he'd earn more in a month than a hundred other blind men did in a year.

But I also want Your Honor to know that, despite all that he made and owned, I never saw a greedier or stingier man, so much so that he used to kill me with hunger, and I never got even half of what I needed. I'm telling the truth: if I hadn't been able to help myself out with my cleverness and shrewd schemes, I would have perished of hunger many a time; but, despite all his knowledge and alertness, I fought back with so many ruses that I wound up with the most and the best always, or most of the time. In order to do this, I played mischievous tricks on him, some of which I'll tell you, though I didn't always get off scot-free.


(Continues...)

Excerpted from Lazarillo de Tormes by STANLEY APPELBAUM. Copyright © 2001 Dover Publications, Inc.. Excerpted by permission of Dover Publications, Inc..
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Table of Contents

Contents

Introduction,
Prólogo / Prologue,
1: Cuenta Lázaro su vida y cúyo hijo fue / Lázaro Tells the Story of His Life and Whose Son He Was,
2: Cómo Lázaro se asentó con un clérigo y de las cosas que con él pasó / How Lázaro Was Employed by a Priest, and of the Things That Befell Him in His Company,
3: Cómo Lázaro se asentó con un escudero y de lo que le acaeció con él / How Lázaro Was Employed by a Nobleman, and What Happened to Him in His Company,
4: Cómo Lázaro se asentó con un fraile de la Merced y de lo que le acaeció con él / How Lázaro Was Employed by a Mercedarian Friar, and What Happened to Him in His Company,
5: Cómo Lázaro se asentó con un buldero y de las cosas que con él pasó / How Lázaro Was Employed by an Indulgence Seller, and of the Things That Befell Him in His Company,
6: Cómo Lázaro se asentó con un capellán y lo que con él pasó / How Lázaro Was Employed by a Chaplain, and What Befell Him in His Company,
7: Cómo Lázaro se asentó con un alguacil y de lo que le acaeció con él / How Lázaro Was Employed by a Constable, and What Happened to Him in His Company,

Customer Reviews