V
How Simplicissimus Pondered on His Past Life, and How with the Water Up to His Mouth He Learned to Swim
Wherewithal a man sinneth, therewith is he wont to be punished. This smallpox did so handle me that thenceforward I needed not to fear the women. I got such holes in my face that I looked like a barn-floor whereon they have threshed peas: yea, I became so foul of aspect that my fine curls in which so many women had been tangled were shamed of me and left their home: in place of which I got others that were so like a hog’s bristles that I must needs wear a wig, and even as outwardly no beauty remained to me, so also my sweet voice departed—for I had had my throat full of sores. Mine eyes, that heretofore none ever found to lack the fire of love enough to kindle any heart, were now as red and watery as those of any old wife of eighty years that hath the spleen. And above all I was in a foreign land, knew neither dog nor man that would treat me fairly, was ignorant of their language, and had no money left.
So now I first began to reflect, and to lament the noble opportunities which had aforetime been granted to me for the furthering of my fortunes, which yet I had so wantonly let go by. I looked back and marked how my extraordinary luck in war and my treasure-trove had been naught but a cause and preparation for my ill fortune, which had never been able to cast me so far down had it not by a false countenance first raised me so high. Yea, I found that the good things that had happened to me, and which I had accounted truly good, had been truly bad, and had brought me to the depth of misery. Now was there no longer a hermit to deal so faithfully with me, no Colonel Ramsay to rescue me in my need, no priest to give me good advice; and, in a word, no one man that would do me a good turn: but when my money was gone I was told to be off and find a place elsewhere, and might, like the prodigal son, be glad to herd with the swine. So now first I bethought me of that priest’s good advice, that counselled I should employ my youth and my wealth for study: but ’twas too late to shut the stable-door now that the horse was stolen. O swift and miserable change! Four weeks ago I was a fellow to move princes to wonder, to charm women, and that made the people believe me a masterpiece of nature, yea an angel, but now so wretched that the very dogs did bark at me. I bethought me a thousand times what I must do: for the host turned me from the door so soon as I could pay no more. Gladly would I have enlisted, but no recruiting officer would take me as a soldier, for I looked like a scarecrow: work could I not, for I was still too weak, and besides used to no handicraft. Nothing did comfort me more than that ’twas now summer coming, and I could at a pinch lodge behind any hedge, for none would suffer me in any house. I had my fine apparel still, that I had had made for my journey, besides a valise full of costly linen that none would buy from me as fearing I might saddle him also with the disease. This I set on my shoulder, my sword in my hand and the road under my feet, which led me to a little town that even possessed an apothecary’s shop. Into this I went, and bade him make me an ointment to do away the pockmarks on my face, and because I had no money I gave him a fine soft shirt; for he was not so nice as the other fools that would take no clothes of me. For, I thought, if thou art but rid of these vile spots, ’twill soon better thy case for thee.
Yea, and I took the more heart because the apothecary assured me that in a week one would see little except the deep scars that the sores had eaten in my face. ’Twas market-day there, and there too was a tooth-drawer that earned much money, in return for which he was always ready with his ribald jests for the crowd. “O fool,” says I to myself, “why dost thou not also set up such a trade? Beest thou so long with Monsieur Canard, and hast not learned enough to deceive a simple peasant and get thy victuals? Then must thou be a poor creature indeed.”