Chapter XVIII

In which young Orpí enters the service of a gentleman and realizes that being rich is better than being poor

The man who hired our hero goes by the sickly name of Manuel de Rubeola. And despite claiming to be an “old Christian” from a family of low-ranking, titled nobility, and the distant cousin of the cousin of the cousin of Isabella I of Castile, he was in sooth a Sephardi descended from Jews, whose name was originally Yehuda Abrabanel. He had become moderately wealthy with his crafts business and, in order to avoid expulsion from the Iberian Peninsula, lived under a Christian identity, contravening, in this case, the Jewish proverb that says “By his name shall ye know a man.”

“I need an attorney to looke after mine finanzes,” said Mr. Abrabanel in Ladino-inflected Spanish. “If thou entereth into my zervice thou shalt ne’er again have ekonomic problems. Hath ve a deal?”

“Yessir,” said Orpí.

Our hero thanked Miguel de Cervantes and bade him farewell to continue on his way to Italy. Orpí and Mr. Abrabanel quickly got into a groove and our hero worked for his new employer handling his tributes, the taxes, and tariffs of his property in Barcelona and the small palace he had in Girona, as well as his letters, provisions, commands and commissions, collecting his employer’s debts and resolving all the legal hindrances that arose: “Here thou hast the property survey, five t’ousand six hundred pounds in gold, in renewal of the hereditary lease for thine palace and to refreshe the memory of the allodial lord of the rights conferr’d from the landes and assets subjekt to the rule of milord.” Or “Whatsoever alienations for foriscapi be owed and in what summes?” Et cetera, et cetera.

The sumptuousness in which Lord Abrabanel lived made a huge impression on young Orpí. His enormous estate was built with Sevillian marble floors, had flatware made from silver from the Indies, and many mahogany chairs, gilded curtains, and other luxurious brocades. The Sephardi enjoyed the good life, and dressed in very expensive Neapolitan silk robes and the latest velvet shoes imported from Germany, and as Orpí came and went from his various properties in his carriage pulled by Arabian horses, the nobleman spent his days sniffing snuff, uncorking bottles of fine wine, and playing cards with the friends who came to visit him on the only day of rest he allowed himself, which was Saturday, when he sang zemirots⁴⁴ at the breakfast hour.

Lord Abrabanel also had six servants in his service. Two of them had been imported directly from the Indies, along with a butler named Josué Mandinga, a Black from Cuba sold as a slave in the Canary Islands whom Lord Abrabanel had bought at a very dear price. Mandinga, following the orders of his lord, was dressed in the latest style, with buckled shoes, pink stockings, a red dress coat, and a white wig that contrasted spectacularly with his face dark as night, revealed only when he smiled and showed his perfectly white teeth.

“Whither goe’t milord, I too chall go,” the Cuban would say.

The Sephardic businessman had, among other luxuries, a small private orchestra of musicians who played sarabandes and saetas at dinner: oboe, harpsichord, viola da gamba, two transverse flutes, marine trumpet, and a violin whose precise, energetic strokes got everyone dancing to the music. The indigenous maids with pierced ears danced, Josué the Cuban danced, and young Orpí danced. It was a celebration every night!

As the months passed, Lord Abrabanel grew fond of our young attorney, so much so that he treated him like his protégé. Our hero dressed in the French style, with his face covered in white makeup of flour and rice powder, his cheeks painted red, a fake beauty mark on his right cheekbone, and a white wig as enormous as it was ludicrous, all imitating the lifestyle of his lord. He spent a good bit of his salary on visits to the tailor, buying ostentatious regalia with neck ruffs to express a bold, self-assured masculinity. He wore his wigs long, as was the fashion of the time, and had a beard in the shape of a spade. And what he didn’t spend on clothes and accessories, he spent on prostitutes or revelries with his friends from university. At that pace, he had little savings, but that didn’t seem to bother our hero much, because since becoming acquainted with that new world of luxury and wealth, he resolved to become rich no matter the cost.

In the service of Lord Abrabanel, Orpí seemed to have a promising future, but bad luck once again found our hero from Piera and, on the rebound, the country as a whole. The agrarian economic crisis that Catalonia was experiencing caused the banks to fail; the failure of the banks provoked a currency crisis that was the ruin of the artisanal sector and at the same time made prices shoot up, and soon everyone stopped paying tariffs. It was every man for himself. Lord Abrabanel was racking up more and more debts and soon was so insolvent he was unable to pay them. First he had to sell his palace in Girona for next to naught. Then he let go the orchestra and sold his carriages. After that came the servants, all except for Josué the Cuban. Then the law went for his jugular, because he was a Jew. One day our hero confessed, “Milord, I’ve come to fetch thee, for I’ve something paramount to inform.”

“Whatsoever iz the matter?” asked Abrabanel.

“If I err not thou art soone to be without a penny to thine name. Thou hast spent oodles & oodles, and the usurers be all over us like a veritable shiver of sharkes. They demandeth compulsoree payment on debts, forthwith. Thou hast spent a tonne living a pipe dream. Basically, thou art flat broke. And furthermore, I heard tell in the courts that the authorities seek to regaliar-vos⁴⁵ and expel thee from the Penynsula for being a Jew!”

“Juanito, don’t you go vorrying ’bout me,” said the man. “Spain no longer views anykthing as ugly, infamous, and offensive as deskending from a line of Jews. Not blasphemers, thieves, highwaymen, adulterers, nor the sacrilegious. Not since the ekpulsion edict of 1492 hath there been such persekution with this ‘blood purity’. But don’t you vorry, I’m forsaking this (land of rabbits),⁴⁶ and heading to Italy, vhere I haff powerful friends. But vat shall thee do now?”

“Mayhaps I shall request work at the Diputació del General. Becoming a government bureaucrat behooves anyone ‘ankering for a decent salary at the present daye.”

“Oy … thou needest connections to get vork there. Ye best skip town, for this kingdom is of interest only to government spekulators. If thou wants to live vell, thou must be either a politician or a highvayman. Thou hath been loyal to me, Urpín and, as the saying goes: ‘Whosever is a friend to everyone is either very poor or very rich.’ I’ve on good worde that a spot for a government attorney hath opened up in Seville. That be the city where all good things are happening now. I vill write thee a fine letter of rekommendation.”

As young Orpí gathered up his papers, Lord Abrabanel waved him down to the courtyard of the house, near the stable. There a powerful white horse was waiting for him, snorting impatiently, its nostrils intermittently flaring.

“This pureblood is my gift, Urpín. He vill be more faithful to thee than any woman. His name be Acephalus (to differentiate it from Bucephalus, Alexander the Great’s steed).”

“Thanks unto thee, Yer Worship,” said our hero, thrilled and hugging his benefactor.

And thus, mounting Acephalus, Orpí tearfully bade farewell to Abrabanel, who had been like a father to him. He also said goodbye to Cirrhotic Liver and his other friends from the university, with whom he’d shared many a late night, amid sad rejoicing. It had been five years since he’d arrived in Barcelona as a boy, and now he was leaving a grown man. When he passed by the two soldiers guarding the entrance to the city—the same ones as on the day our hero had first come through its gates, one of them barked, without recognizing him, “Quo vadis?”

“Joan Orpí del Pou, Esquire,” shouted out our hero, who wore a large wide-brimmed felt hat adorned with two peacock feathers, a leather doublet, silk stockings, velvet breeches, pointy shoes, and was shrouded in a cape, all his fine clothes giving him the appearance of an absolute gentleman.

“Fare thee well, milord,” said the soldiers, as they stepped aside with a theatrical bow and Orpí’s equus caballus let out flatulences in the soldiers’ face and neighed showing bright white teeth.

With Lord Abrabanel’s letter of recommendation safely tucked away in his bag, our hero headed toward Piera to bid farewell to his family as he dreamed of a dazzling future in the service of the crown, as an adviser to the Court, or a magistrate in the Royal Audiencia.

___________

44. i.e. Jewish hymns.

45. i.e. Take away privileges.

46. i.e. Hebrew name meaning “Sefarad” that denoted the Iberian Peninsula following the expulsion of the Jews, in 1492. From this name comes the later deformation into “Sephardim” meaning descendants of the Jews of the Peninsula.