h open arms, and I was no less delighted to
see him. He immediately began to empty his pockets of pieces of bread,
softer than those he used to, carry to the garden, and to put them
between my teeth without passing them through his own. From the softness
of the bits of bread, and my having seen my poet come out of the
monastery, I surmised that his muse, like that of many of his brethren,
was a bashful beggar. He walked into the city, and I followed him,
intending to take him for my master if he would let me, thinking that
the crumbs from his table might serve to support me, since there is no
better or ampler purse than charity, whose liberal hands are never poor.

After some time, we arrived at the house of a theatrical manager, called
Angulo the Bad, to distinguish him from another Angulo, not a manager
but a player, one of the best ever seen. The whole company was assembled
to hear my master's comedy read; but before the first act was half
finished, all had vanished, one by one, except the manager and myself,
who formed the whole audience. The comedy was such that to me, who am
but an ass in such matters, it seemed as though Satan himself had
composed it for the utter ruin and perdition of the poet; and I actually
shivered with vexation to see the solitude in which his audience had
left him. I wonder did his prophetic soul presage to him the disgrace
impending over him; for all the players--and there were more than twelve
of them--came back, laid hold on the poet, without saying a word, and,
had it not been for the authoritative interference of the manager, they
would have tossed him in a blanket. I was confounded by this sad turn of
affairs, the manager was incensed, the players very merry; and the poor
forlorn poet, with great patience, but a somewhat wry face, took the
comedy, thrust it into his bosom, muttering, "It is not right to cast
pearls before swine," and sadly quitted the place without another word.
I was so mortified and ashamed that I could not follow him, and the
manager caressed me so much that I was obliged to remain; and within a
month I became an excellent performer in interludes and pantomimes.
Interludes, you know, usually end with a cudgelling bout, but in my
master's theatre they ended with setting me at the characters of the
piece, whom I worried and tumbled one over the other, to the huge
delight of the ignorant spectators, and my master's great gain.

Oh, Scipio! what things I could tell you