The Life and Misadventures of Lázaro de Tormes
Birth and Family
Know your honor that my name is Lázaro de Tormes, son of Thomas and Antonia Gonzales Perez, natural of Tejares, a village of Salamanca. I was born in the River Tormes, and here comes my nickname. It happened this way: My father worked in a watermill on the banks of the river, and one night, while in the midst of work, my mother came into labor and I was born there, in the river.
When I was eight, my father was accused of stealing some of the flour and was arrested. Later, he became a servant for a gentleman who went to fight against the Moors, and that was his life.
Lazarus’s Black Stepfather and Brother
My mother, widowed, moved to the city and worked cooking and washing clothes. There she met a black man who began visiting our house. At first, I was scared when I saw him, but with the bread, meat, and firewood he brought in the winter, I began to feel affection for him.
My mother bore him a beautiful black brother, whom I helped keep warm and cared for. I remember seeing my black stepfather, me, and my white mother; the child ran behind my mother and said, pointing.
Episode of the Stone Bull
Leaving Salamanca, we passed a bridge at the entrance of which was a large stone in the shape of a bull. The blind man told me to approach the animal and said:
“Lazarus, put your ear to the bull and you’ll hear a great noise from within.”
I had barely put my ear to the animal when the blind man grabbed my hair and slammed my head against the stone with such force that the pain lasted three days.
“The servant of a blind man must be more cunning than the devil himself,” said the blind man, laughing heartily.
I said to myself, “Is it true what they say? Should I be smart, think, and fend for myself because I have no one?”
In the following days, the blind man began to speak in jargon and noticed my talent, saying:
“I cannot give you money, but I can give you many tips for living.”
And so, after God, the blind man gave me life because he trained me in the ways of the world.
Jug of Wine
This incident happened when I was serving my first master, the blind man. He would figure out how I would secretly drink wine from his jug. I used a straw to drink the liquid, making a hole in the bottom of the jug and covering it with wax. The blind man suspected something and realized the deception, so he decided to get revenge by breaking the jug on my face. I lost my teeth from then on.
This episode can serve to comment on both the author’s intention and the themes of the play. The brutal lesson of the blind man is the first warning of the degrading treatment that awaits me in life, preventing me from becoming a decent person. The book, besides being a criticism of the church, is criticizing a society that humiliates the weak and humble. This is seen in the treatment I received from the seven masters I served (a blind man, a clergyman, a squire, a priest, a chaplain, a seller of bulls, and an archpriest). The characters in this fragment are myself, Lazarus, the protagonist of the novel, and my first master, a blind man who teaches me to be suspicious.
Episode of the Grapes
We arrived at a place called Almorox, and a grape picker gave the blind man a bunch of grapes as alms. As the grapes were ripe, they would fall from his hand to the floor, and if he missed the bag, they would burst. So I decided to eat them there and be content to share with him that day because I had many cravings.
“Now, let’s eat this bunch of grapes in equal parts,” he said. “You’ll take one grape and I’ll take another, until we finish the cluster. Thus, there will be no cheating, and we’ll both eat the same amount.”
So we started, but after a while, the blind man began to take two at a time, and I, not to be left behind, took two by two, threes, and as many as I could fit in my hand.
We passed by the house of a shoemaker, and as we were going by, a master hit my head with something hanging from the ceiling. I fumbled to know what it was, and I said:
“Let’s go faster, or these delicacies will drown us even without eating them.”
The blind man looked around and saw nothing edible and asked me why I said that.
“Hush, nephew,” he said, “at the rate you’re going, you’ll understand all this very soon.”
Then we passed by an inn that had horns on the walls where the mules were tied. My master fumbled one of these horns and with a sigh said:
“Oh, damn thing! How many want to put you on someone else, and those who don’t want to ever hear your name. Someday, Lazarus, what I have in hand will give you bad news.”
I assured him that it would not happen, but he insisted. Then we went to the inn where I never wanted to be. For the blind man prayed to the waitresses, barmaids, nougat sellers, and whores and other silly women, but I never saw him pray to a man.