Pablo De Segovia by Francisco de Quevedo y Villegas

My worthy uncle was lodged near the slaughterhouse, at a water-seller's house. We went in, and he said to me, "My lodging is not a palace, but I assure you, nephew, it stands conveniently for my business. " We went up such a pair of stairs that I longed to be at the top, to know whether there was any difference betwixt it and the ladder at the gallows. There we came into such a low room that we walked about as if we had been all full of courtesy, bowing to one another. He hung up the cat-of-nine-tails on a nail, about which there were others with halters, broad knives, axes, hooks, and other tools belonging to the trade. He asked me why I did not take off my cloak and sit down? I answered, "I did not use to do so. " I cannot express how much I was out of countenance at my uncle's infamous profession, who told me it was lucky that I came at such a time, for I should have a good dinner, because he had invited some friends. As we were talking, in came one of those that beg money at the church-doors for the release of souls, in a purple gown down to his heels, and rattling his questing box, said, "I have got as much to-day by my souls as you have done by the rogues you flogged."

They made grimaces at one another; the wicked soul-broker tucked up his long robe, discovering a pair of bandy legs and canvas breeches, and began to shift about, asking whether Clement was come? My uncle told him he was not, when at the same time in came an acorn thresher -- I mean a swineherd, wrapped up in a clout, with a pair of wooden shoes on. I knew him by his horn he had in his hand, which had been more fashionable had it been upon his head. He saluted us after his manner, and next to him in came a left-handed squinting mulatto, with a hat that had brims like an umbrella and a crown like a sugar-loaf; his sword with more guards about it than at the king's hunting; a buff-doublet; and a face as full of scars as if it had been made of patches stitched together. He sat down, saluting all the company, and said to my uncle, "By my troth, Alonso, Flat Nose and the Nailer have been well mauled to-day. " Up started he of the souls, and cried "I gave Flechilla, the hangman of Ocana, four ducats, to put on the ass apace and play with a slender cat-of-nine-tails, when I was fly-flapp'd there. " "By the Lord," quoth the mulatto, "I was too kind to the dog Lobrezno at Murcia, for the ass went a snail's gallop all the way, and the rogue laid them on so, that my back was all weals. " "My back is virgin still," said the swineherd.