Arturo Pérez-Reverte - Purity of Blood

— from José Pellicer’s weekly bulletin to friends

FROM LICENCIADO SALVADOR CORTES Y CAMPOAMOR

To Captain Alatriste

The bards, throughout the ages, have conveyedYour story, from Homer on, your praises they declare,And still today antagonists despairWhen they recall the fury of your blade.

Breda, Ostend, Maastricht, Antwerp as well,Were theaters for your exploits, each heroic deed,Where, sword flashing, you were always in the leadTo serve the King, and his enemy repel.

Lutherans, contentious French, insurgent Flemish,Dread Turks, Dutchmen, the ever-present English,All served to help you win your well-earned fame,Then let the heavens and the earth proclaimThe much-sung feats of a true warrior:Alatriste! The thunderbolt of war!

FROM THE CONDE DE GUADALMEDINA

To a Certain Priest Petitioner Much Admired at Court

Lascivious Padre, salacious, and promiscuous,Would it not serve you better to be religious?Should there not be one honest womanTo whom you have not promised heavenThrough the attention of your pillicock?Must you skewer every ewe among your flock?That sacred staff of yours, your treasure,You must find raw, abraded beyond measureFrom its constant state of excitationAnd unrelenting quest of penetration.Yea, for every virgin you confessThere is another cunny to be blessed.

FROM THE BENEFICIADO VILLASECA

In Faint Praise of the Head Constable, Martín Saldaña

Señor Saldaña, by my faith,You amble at an ox’s paceWhen you are summoned to untangleSome imminently mortal wrangle.Why then should I be amazed—Given you’re forever dazed—That meeting with your deputiesMay take a few eternities?Poor ox, his wife doth dally ’roundAnd Saldaña’s head with antlers crown.But in the end, if I’m not daft,And precedent reliable,An ox become a constableWill wear the horns and get the shaft.

ATTRIBUTED TO DON FRANCISCO DE QUEVEDO

He Ponders That in Youth’s Exuberance There Is Need for Providence

Happy, he scales the towering obelisk,This lad who puts his trust in youthful fire,Weighing challenge against his heart’s desire,And pitting courage against the gravest risk.

All too rashly, he lifts his wings in flight.And, a new Icarus, soars nearBut does not reach the blazing sphereThat radiates life’s daring from the height.

Patrician brio cannot be denied.Spurred by the ardent blood of youthThe noble spirit ever seeks the prize.

But in this fall to earth may lie a truth.The prudent voice will serve as surest guide:The hero is not the valiant, but the wise.

BY DON FRANCISCO DE QUEVEDO

Abiding Love, Beyond Death

The shadow that comes to end day’s reverieWill bring the dark, and close my eyelids fast,Enabling this soul of mine, at last,To slough off anguish and anxiety.

That darkness, though, will not leave memoryOn that far shore where once it brightly blazed,Instead, my flame will burn through icy wavesTo flout the laws of death’s finality.

Soul, in which a godhead was enclosed,Veins, through which a humor’s fire arose,Marrow, the seat of earthly passion’s reign,

Will fly the body, but quiddity retain;Though ash, they will have sensibility,Be dust enamored through eternity.

Table of Contents

Cover

Copyright

Contents

I. SEÑOR QUEVEDO’S DIFFICULT MOMENT

II. THE NECK AND THE NOOSE

III. MADRID STEEL

IV. THE ASSAULT

V. IN GOD’S NAME

VI. SAN GINÉS ALLEY

VII. MEN OF ONE BOOK

VIII. A NOCTURNAL VISIT

IX.AUTO - DA - FÉ

X. UNFINISHED BUSINESS

EPILOGUE