‘Who then?’ he asked.
‘Perhaps the man who came in while I was there.’
‘Who came in while you were there?’
I replied, ‘I’m not allowed to tell anyone.’
My master, being quick-witted, saw the way to trap me into revealing the truth. All of a sudden, catching me unawares, he asked who had forbidden me to tell anyone and I immediately answered, ‘Ensign Madcap.’
By the way everyone laughed I realised I must have let the cat out of the bag and Ensign Madcap, who was sitting among the guests at the table, went as red as a beetroot. I refused to say any more until I had his permission, but all it took was a nod from my master to Ensign Madcap, in place of an order, and I could tell them everything I knew. My master then asked me what Ensign Madcap had been doing in my goose-coop.
I replied, ‘He brought a young lady in with him.’
‘What did he do after that’, my master said.
‘It seemed to me that he wanted to relieve himself in the coop’, I replied.
‘And what did the young lady do at that?’ my master asked. ‘Was she not embarrassed?’
‘Certainly not, sir’ I said. ‘She lifted up her dress in order (you will surely, esteemed reader, who so love decency, virtue and morality, forgive my vulgar pen for writing down the coarse words I used at the time) to have a shit.’
At this all present burst out into such loud laughter that my master could no longer hear me, never mind ask any more questions. And that was quite right and proper, otherwise the respectable maiden (sic) might have been publicly shamed.
Then the steward told the assembled company how I had recently come back from the ramparts saying I knew where thunder and lightning came from. I had seen, I said, huge beams, hollowed out inside, on half waggons. Into these they had stuffed onion seeds together with an iron turnip with the root cut off, then tickled the beams a little with a pronged spear and out of the front poured smoke, thunder and infernal flames. More such comic stories were brought out, so that they did nothing during the whole meal but talk and laugh about me. This resulted in a general consensus, which was to lead to my downfall, that if they continued to do their best to make a fool of me, in time I would develop into a fine jester, fit to be set before the greatest rulers and capable of bringing a smile to the lips of a dying man.
While they were guzzling and gorging as they had done the day before, the guard brought a note for the governor announcing the arrival of a commissioner sent by the Swedish War Council to review the garrison and inspect the fortress. He was already at the gate, which put a damper on the festivities. The joyful laughter died away like the wail from a punctured set of bagpipes and both musicians and guests vanished like tobacco smoke, leaving only their smell behind. My master set off for the gate with the adjutant, who carried the keys, a detachment of the main guard and many lanterns in order to admit the old inkslinger, as he called him, himself.
He swore he wished the devil would break the man’s neck into a thousand pieces before he got into the fortress, but as soon as he had let him in and greeted him on the inner drawbridge he was almost holding his stirrup – indeed he did so! – to show he was the commissioner’s humble servant. They were both so keen to demonstrate their respect for each other that when the commissioner dismounted to accompany my master to his lodgings on foot each tried to insist on walking on the left.
‘Oh’, I thought to myself, ‘what a father of lies rules mankind, always using men to dupe each other.’
We were approaching the guardhouse and the sentry called out, ‘Who goes there?’ although he could see it was my master. He refused to answer, wanting to leave the honour to his guest, so the sentry repeated his challenge even louder. Finally the commissioner replied to the last ‘Who goes there?’ with, ‘
The man who gives the money!’
They passed the sentry and since I was some way behind them I heard the sentry, who was a new recruit who had formerly been a well-off young farmer’s son from the Vogelsberg, mutter, ‘A lying customer you are. “The man who gives the money”! A bloodsucker who takes the money, more like! You’ve squeezed so much money out of me that I would to God you were struck down dead before you left the town.’
From that moment I concluded that this foreign gentleman in the velvet doublet must be a holy man, for not only did the curses run off him like water off a duck’s back, all those who hated him treated him with respect, love and kindness. That very same night he was served a right royal meal, made blind drunk and put to bed in a magnificent four-poster.
At the review next day everything was at sixes and sevens. Even a simpleton like me managed to deceive the clever commissioner (for they do not appoint innocent children to positions like that). It took me a mere hour to learn what was necessary, which was to count up to five and nine while beating a drum. Since I was too small to pass for a musketeer, they decked me out in a borrowed uniform (my page’s knee-breeches being unsuitable for the purpose) and gave me a borrowed drum (doubtless because I myself was a borrowed child) with which I successfully came through the inspection. They did not trust my simple mind to be able to remember an assumed name, to which I would step forward and answer, so I had to remain Simplicius. The governor himself chose my surname and had me entered in the roll as Simplicius Simplicissimus, thus making me the first of my line, like a whore’s bastard, even though, by his own admission, I resembled his sister. I retained both first name and surname afterwards, until I learnt my true name. As Simplicius Simplicissimus I played my role pretty well, to my master’s advantage and only minor detriment to the Swedish crown. And that was all the military service I performed for Sweden in my whole life, so that her enemies have little cause to view me with hostility.
After the commissioner had departed again, the pastor I have mentioned so often called me secretly to his lodgings and said, ‘O Simplicius, I feel sorry for your youth and your future unhappiness moves me to pity. Listen, child. I know for certain that your master is determined to deprive you of all sense and turn you into a fool. For this purpose he is already having a suit of clothes made and tomorrow you must attend the school where you are to lose what sense you have. There you will doubtless be so horribly tormented that, assuming neither God nor natural means can prevent it, you must surely lose your wits. Since, however, that is an unpleasant and dangerous business, and for the sake of the pious hermit and your own innocence, I have decided out of true Christian charity to give you advice and other necessary assistance, namely this medicine. Follow my instructions and take this powder, which will so strengthen your brain and memory that you will come through it all with no damage to your reason. Here too is an ointment to rub on your temples, your spine, your neck and your nostrils. Use both of these in the evening, before you go to sleep, since you will never be certain you may not be fetched from your bed at any time. But make sure no one hears about my warning or sees the medicines I have given you, otherwise we will both be in trouble. And while you are suffering this outrageous treatment take care not to believe everything they tell you; at the same time pretend you do believe everything and say little, so that your instructors will not notice they are wasting their breath. If you don’t, your torment will be changed to something I don’t know about. But after you have put on your fool’s coat and plumes come and see me again so that I can give you more advice. In the meantime I will pray to God that he will keep you healthy in both mind and body.’ Thus having finished, he gave me the powder and ointment and I went back home with them.
And everything turned out as the pastor had predicted. I had hardly fallen asleep when four men disguised in frightening devil’s masks came into my bedroom and started jumping about like acrobats and carnival clowns. One was holding a red-hot hook, one a torch. The other two set about me, dragged me out of bed, danced up and down with me for a while and forced me to put on my clothes. I, however, pretended I thought they were genuine devils and started shouting for help at the top of my voice and behaving as if I were frightened to death. They announced that I had to go with them and tied a cloth round my head so that I could neither hear, see nor shout. They took me by a roundabout route, up and down many stairs, ending up in a cellar in which a large fire was burning and where they untied the cloth and started to toast me in Spanish wine and malmsey. They believed they had persuaded me I was dead and in the depths of hell, for I deliberately behaved as if I believed all the lies they told me.
‘Go on’, they said, ‘have a good drink, since you have to stay with us for ever. If you refuse to join in with us you’ll end up in that fire.’
The poor devils were trying to disguise their voices so I wouldn’t recognise them but I immediately realised they were my master’s orderlies. However, I didn’t show I’d recognised them and laughed up my sleeve that I had made fools of these fellows who thought they were fooling me. I drank my share of the Spanish wine, but they downed more than I did since such heavenly nectar rarely came the way of the likes of them. I swear they would have become drunk sooner than I, but when the time seemed right I began to stagger and reel, as I had seen my master’s guests do recently, and refused any more drink, pretending to want only to sleep. At this they prodded me with their hooks, which they kept putting in the fire, and chased me to all four corners of the room, so that it looked as if they had taken leave of their senses themselves. They wanted to make me drink more, or at least not to sleep, and when I fell down during the chase, which I often did deliberately, they picked me up and pretended they were going to throw me on the fire.
They treated me as a falconer treats the falcon, keeping it awake so that it will respond more quickly to its training. This was what I found most difficult to bear. I could probably have outlasted them as far as drunkenness and sleepiness were concerned, but they did not stay there all the time, taking turns instead, so that I necessarily came off worst. Three days and two nights I spent in that smoky cellar, with no other light than the glow of the fire. My head started to ring and throb fit to burst so that finally I had to think up some trick to get rid of the torment along with my tormentors. Since I needed to relieve myself anyway, I took a lesson from the fox that urinates in the dogs’ faces when it can no longer outrun them; at the same time I tickled my throat with my finger to make myself vomit, which I did to such effect that the cellar was filled with a foul stench that even my devils couldn’t bear to be near me. So then they wrapped me up in a sheet and thrashed me so savagely that it felt as if all my internal organs were falling out, and my soul along with them. Eventually they knocked me senseless and I lay there as if dead, so that I have no idea what else they did to me.
When I came to I was no longer in the gloomy cellar with the devils, but in a splendid room and in the hands of three of the foulest old women that ever walked the earth. At first, as I opened my eyes just a little, I thought they must be fiendish spirits. If, however, at that time I had already read the old heathen poets, I would have assumed they were the Eumenides, or at least one particular one I would have taken to be Tisiphone come from the underworld to rob me, like Athamas, of my wits, since I was aware that I was there to be turned into a fool.
She had eyes like two will-o’-the-wisps and between them a long, skinny hawk’s nose, the tip of which reached down to her lower lip at least. I could only see two teeth in her mouth, but these were so perfectly long, round and thick that in shape they were like a ring-finger, in colour like the gold of the ring itself. In fact, there was enough ivory there for a whole mouthful of teeth, only it was poorly distributed. Her face was like Spanish leather and her white hair hung down in weird tousled knots because she had just been brought from her bed. Her long breasts I can only compare to two limply dangling cow’s bladders from which two thirds of the air had leaked out; at the end of each hung a dark brown spigot half the length of my finger. Truly, a terrifying sight which would, however, have made an excellent antidote to the inordinate lust of lecherous goats. The other two were no more beautiful, except that they had snub monkey’s noses and were slightly more decently dressed.
When I had recovered from the shock, I realised that one was our dish-washer, the other two orderlies’ wives. I pretended I was unable to move, though I was genuinely paralysed when these honest grannies proceeded to strip me stark naked and clean me up like a baby. They were very gentle about it and showed great patience and sympathy for me, so that I almost told them the truth. But I said to myself, ‘No, Simplicius, never trust an old woman. Look on it as a triumph if you, young as you are, can deceive three crafty old hags a man could use to catch the devil himself in open ground. Look on it as an experience which shows there is hope you may go on to greater things when you are older.’
Once the three had finished they put me in a magnificent bed, where I immediately fell asleep. They then left, taking with them their buckets and washing equipment as well as my clothes and all the filth they had cleaned off me. I reckon I must have slept uninterruptedly for more than twenty-four hours and when I woke up there were two pretty boys with wings standing by the bed, all decked out in white gowns, taffeta ribbons, pearls, jewels, gold chains and other eye-catching trappings. One was holding a gilded basin full of biscuits, sweets, marzipan and other confectionery, the other a goblet. These two claimed to be angels and tried to persuade me I was in heaven, having survived purgatory and escaped both the devil and his mother. I should ask, they said, for anything my heart desired; they had sufficient supplies of whatever I might want or, if not, it was in their power to procure it. I was tormented by thirst and, seeing the goblet, asked only for a drink, which they were more than willing to give me. However, it wasn’t wine, but a sweet-tasting sleeping draught which I drank down in one gulp and fell back to sleep as its warmth spread through my veins.