The Adventures of Lazarillo and the Blind Man
Episode of the Sausage
At an inn in Escalona, I was given a piece of sausage. After I ate, the blind man gave me a penny for wine. The fire was a turnip, unfit for cooking. Seeing no one around and smelling the sausage, I swapped it for the turnip. I fetched the wine, and the blind man ate the sausage. Upon my return, he had the turnip between bread slices, believing it was sausage. Biting into it, he found the hard turnip. “What is this, Lazarillo?” he asked. “I don’t know,” I lied. “Someone must have done it.” “Impossible,” he said, “I held the spit.” I feigned innocence, but he smelled me, detecting the sausage. He opened my mouth, his long nose reaching my throat. The sausage, undigested, resurfaced. Before he could expose me, the sausage flew back into his face. I’d rather have died than face his wrath. He pulled my hair, scratched my face and neck. He told everyone about my tricks, and they laughed. I regretted not biting off his nose when I had the chance.
Lazarillo Leaves the Blind Man
After the ridicule, I decided to escape. One rainy day, we begged. To cross a stream, I led him to a column, claiming it was the narrowest point. “Jump!” I urged. He did, hitting the column hard. “How could you smell the sausage and not the post?” I taunted, escaping to Torrijos.
The Master Strikes, Mistaking Lazarillo
One night, I put a key in his mouth. The whistling sound made him think it was a snake. He hit me with a club, leaving me unconscious. He found the key, realizing his mistake. After three days, I awoke to his explanation. An old woman and neighbors tended to my wounds. They laughed at my antics, while I cried. I received some food, and within two weeks, I recovered.