No sooner did he perceive that we were determined to release ourselves from his tyranny than his love was converted into hatred, and in his passion he caused us to be condemned to leave Madrid in three days, under pain of imprisonment for the remainder of our lives. He thought that by this he would undoubtedly have reduced us to implore his mercy, and do just as he pleased; but he was much mistaken, for no sooner was this unjust sentence made known to us than we guessed from whence it came, and resolved to obey it, my wife choosing rather to travel all over the world than have any thing more to do with this old rascal, and I beginning to be apprehensive that my creditors would shortly be calling upon me for the remainder of my composition money.
_Guzman and his wife, having been obliged to leave Madrid for their exemplary and moral mode of life, proceed to Seville, where Guzman finds his Mother._
The first day we were fully employed in converting all our effects into ready money. On the second we hired four mules to carry us and our baggage, and departed from Madrid on the morning of the third, according to the sentence.
We took the road to Seville, not only to gratify my great desire to revisit my native country, but to please Donna Maria, who burned with impatience to try the effect of her charms upon the rich merchants who, I had told her, were continually arriving from Peru, laden with gold and jewels. She doubted not that she should fill her coffers at their expense. Notwithstanding our good intentions towards these gentlemen, however, we travelled very slowly for fear of fatigue; and I own that I felt a secret pleasure in surveying the country through which I had formerly passed, although it recalled to my remembrance the sad adventures of my youth. I passed the inn where I had been a servant; and at the sight of Cantillana I fancied I still smelt those excellent ragouts of mules with which I had formerly been regaled; and I did not forget the cudgelling which had been so liberally bestowed on me and the muleteer by the two officers of the Holy Brotherhood. I arrived and dined at that charming inn where they made omelets of pullets. I told my wife this story, and she laughed at it heartily. At last I reached the hermitage, where I lay the first night after I left Seville, and, transported with the recollection, I addressed the Saint in these terms: “Oh great St. Lazarus,” cried I, “when I left the steps of thy chapel ’twas with tears in my eyes, on foot, alone, and poor, but innocent; and now thou seest me return, married, and in good condition, and well mounted; but how innocent, Heaven and thou know!”