Capítulo VI: QUE EN EL ALDEA SON LOS DÍAS MAS LARGOS Y MAS CLAROS Y LOS BASTIMENTOS MAS BARATOS

The Abundance of the Hearth

The village provides the blessing of self-sufficiency in bread and food, contrasting with the poor quality and cost of city provisions.

It's a privilege of the village that whoever lives there has flour to sift, a kneading trough to knead with, and an oven to bake in—a privilege you don't enjoy at court or in the great towns, where people have no choice but to buy bread that is hard, or unsalted, or dark, or poorly risen, or sour, or badly baked, or burned, or smoky, or too fresh, or damp, or flat-tasting, or moist; so they're hurt both by the bread they bought and by the money they paid for it.¹ It's certainly not like that in the village, where they eat bread made of fine white wheat, ground at a good mill, carefully winnowed, passed through three sieves, and baked in a large oven—bread that's a day old, kneaded with good water, white as snow, and fluffy as a sponge.² Those who live in the village and knead at home have plenty of bread for their household; they don't borrow it from their neighbors; they have something to give the poor; they have bran for the pigs, rolls for the children, cakes to offer, loaves for the servants, siftings for the hens, flour for fritters, and even puff pastries for Saturdays.³

The Freedom of Rural Life

Village life offers health, freedom of movement, and relief from the social constraints and medical costs found in the city.

It is a privilege of the village that anyone who lives there can get more exercise and has more ways to fill the hours—a privilege you don't enjoy in the big towns; for there each person has to make a point of being carefully measured in speech, reserved in bearing, upright in life, exemplary in deeds, kept apart from idle talk, patient under insult, and not much given to hanging around the squares; so that the more someone is esteemed in the commonwealth, the less he goes out of his house.⁴ O blessed village, and blessed is the one who lives there! where anyone can freely stand at the window, look out from the gallery, stroll down the street, sit at the door, ask for a chair in the square, eat in the entryway, wander about the threshing floors, go out as far as the orchard, drink face-down from the spout, watch the girls dance, let himself be invited to weddings, take a light meal at funerals, and stand as godfather at baptisms—people there are healthier and far less often sick, which is not so in the great cities, where because the houses are tall, the rooms gloomy, and the streets dark, the air spoils more quickly and people fall ill sooner.⁵⁶ O blessed are you, village! Where the house is roomier, the people more sincere, the air cleaner, the sun clearer, the ground drier, the square less cluttered, the gallows less crowded, the community freer of quarrels, the food healthier, exercise more consistent, company safer, the feast more festive, and above all, the cares far fewer and the pastimes far greater. It is a privilege of the village—especially if it is a little one—that neither young physicians nor old diseases live there, a privilege those in the big towns do not enjoy; for of four parts of a man's estate, one the fools take for the buffooneries they spout, another the lawyers take for the cases they defend, another the apothecaries take for the medicines they give, and the last the doctors take for the cures they work.⁷ O blessed are you, village, and blessed is the one who lives in you! for there no blockages set in, the spleen does not swell, the liver never overheats, no one is seized by fainting spells, and no one dies of surfeits.⁸ What more could I say about you, O blessed village!⁹ —except that unless they're building a house, people there don't even know what sand or stone are?

Time Well Spent

In the village, time is truly enjoyed and lived, whereas in the city, days pass by without being felt or appreciated.

It's a privilege of the village that the days are enjoyed more and last longer—which is not so in the proud towns, where many years go by without being felt and many days without being enjoyed. Since time is spent with more pastime in the country than in town, it truly seems there's more in one village day than in a whole month at court.¹⁰ Oh, how pleasant village living is, where the sun lasts longer, morning comes earlier, evening lingers more slowly, night is quieter, the ground is less damp, the water cleaner, the air freer, the mud drier, and the fields more cheerful!¹¹ A city day is felt and not enjoyed, and a village day is enjoyed and not felt; because there the day is clearer, freer, longer, merrier, cleaner, fuller, and more enjoyed; and finally I tell you it's better spent and less burdensome.¹²

The Economy of the Countryside

The village provides easy access to essential resources like firewood and straw, which are costly and difficult to obtain in the city.

It's a privilege of the village that every man who lives there has firewood for his house—a privilege those who live in the great towns don't enjoy, where firewood is very hard to get and very costly to buy; because the waste lands where they cut are far off, and the nearby mountains are closed off.¹³ Oh, what a difference there is between spending winter in the city and spending it in the village! Because there you never lack oak from the pasture woodlands, holm oak from the preserves, stocks from old vineyards, chips from when they work the land, bundles from when they prune the vine shoots, branches from when they prune, trees that dry out, or limbs that break off.¹⁴ These things are a matter of free will; but when people find themselves in need, they set themselves to knocking down fence rails, burning brambles, clearing thyme scrub, pruning almond trees, replacing stakes, splitting brushwood, pulling up broom plants, cutting Spanish broom, gathering pomace, saving chaff, drying dung, bringing in thistles, gathering dry leaf litter, and even searching for cow dung.¹⁵¹⁶ A great advantage of village life is that everyone has the straw they need for their home, which isn't the case in the city or at court; in those places, firewood, straw, and barley are the three things that cost lords the least to pay for, yet are the most bothersome to secure. Straw is needed for the mules that haul carts, for the oxen in winter, for the sheep when it snows, for the colt they ride, for the fillies that foal, for the young mules they raise, for the oven where they bake, for the beds they sleep in, for the fire they warm themselves by, and even to send a load to market.¹⁷ Anyone who, for all these things,¹⁸ would certainly feel the cost in their wallet by the end of the year.¹⁹

The Liberty of the Table

True dining pleasure requires the freedom to choose when, what, and with whom one eats, a privilege found in the village but lost at court.

It's a privilege of the village that everyone who lives there can eat wherever they want and at whatever hour they want—which isn't the case at court and in the big towns, where they're forced to eat late, and cold, and tasteless food, and even with someone they count as an enemy. O blessed village, where they eat by the fire if it's winter, in the doorway if it's summer, in the garden if there are guests, under the vine arbor if it's hot, in the meadow if it's spring, by the spring if it's Eastertide, on the threshing floors when they're threshing, in the vineyards when they're planting a young vineyard, alone if they're in mourning, with company if it's a feast day, in the morning if they're setting out on the road, a hearty stew if they're coming back from the hunt, everything boiled if they have no teeth, everything roasted if they want something heartier, in the evening if they have no appetite, or very early if they do.²⁰ A good meal requires three things: eating when you feel like it, eating what you feel like, and eating with pleasant company. Anyone who lacks these will curse what they eat—and even themselves for eating it.

The Joy of Simple Pastimes

Village life is defined by trustworthy company and simple, wholesome recreations that contrast with the fear and isolation of the city.

It's a privilege of the village that everyone who lives there has something to keep busy with and someone to take recreation with — which is not so at court and in the great cities, where those we trust are very few, and countless²¹ those we fear are countless.²² Oh, what a happy life it is in the village!²³ where everyone who lives there finds their pastimes in fishing with a rod, snaring birds, and setting bird nets.²⁴

Read the original Latin

Es previlegio de aldea que el que morare en ella tenga harina para cerner, artesa para amasar y horno para cozer, del qual previlegio no se goza en la corte ni en los grandes pueblos, a do de necessidad compran el pan que es duro, o sin sal, o negro, o mal lleudado , o avinagrado, o mal cocho , o quemado, o ahumado, o reciente, o mojado, o desazonado, o húmedo; por manera que están lastimados del pan que compraron y del dinero que por ello dieron. No es assí por cierto en el aldea, do comen el pan de trigo candeal molido en buen molino, ahechado muy despacio, passado por tres cedaços, cozido en horno grande, tierno del día antes, amasado con buena agua, blanco como la nieve y fofo como esponja. Los que biven en el aldea y amasan en su casa tienen abundancia de pan para su gente, no lo piden prestado a sus vezinos, tienen qué dar a los pobres, tienen salvados para los puercos, bollos para los niños, tortas para offrescer , hogazas para los moços, ahechaduras para las gallinas, harina para buñuelos y aun hojaldres para los sábados.

Es previlegio de aldea que el que mora en ella pusda hazer más exercicio y tenga más en qué embever el tiempo, del qual pravilegio no se goza en los grandes pueblos; porque allí ha de presumir cada uno de ser muy medido en las palabras, recogido en la persona, honesto en la vida, exemplar en las obras, apartado de conversaciones, paciente en las injurias y no muy visitador de las plazas; por manera que tanto es más tenido uno en la república quanto menos sale de casa. ¡O bienaventurada aldea y bienaventurado el que mora en ella! , a do cada uno se puede poner libremente a la ventana, mirar desde el corredor, pasearse por la calle, asentarse a la puerta, pedir silla en la plaza, comer en el portal, andarse por las oras, irse hasta la huerta, bever de buces en el caño, mirar cómo bailan las moças, dexarse combidar en las bodas, hazer colación en los mortuorios, ser padrino en los bateos en ella más sanos y mucho menos enfermos, lo qual no es assí en las grandes ciudades, a do por ocasión de ser las casas altas, los aposentos tristes y las calles sombrías, se corrompen más ayna los aires y enferman más presto los hombres. ¡O bendita tú, aldea! , a do la casa es más ancha, la gente más sincera, el aire más limpio, el sol más claro, el suelo más enxuto, la plaza más desembaraçada, la horca menos poblada, la república más sin renzilla, el mantenimiento más sano, el exercicio más continuo, la compañía más segura, la fiesta más festejada y, sobre todo, los cuydados muy menores y los passatiempos mucho mayores. Es previlegio de aldea, en especial si es un poco pequeña, que no moren en ella físicos moços ni enfermedades viejas, del qual previlegio no gozan los de los grandes pueblos; porque de cuatro partes de la hazienda, la una llevan los locos para chocarrerías que dizen, la otra llevan los letrados por causas que deffienden, la otra llevan los boticarios por medicinas que dan y la otra llevan los médicos por sus curas que hazen. ¡O bendita tú, aldea, y bendito el que en ti mora! , pues allí no aportan ciones , no se cria allí bazo, nunca allí se escalienta el hígado, a nadie toman desmayos y ningunos mueren de ahitos.

¡Qué más quieres que diga de ti, jo bendite aldea! , sino que si no es para edificar alguna casa no saben allí qué cosa son arenas ni piedra?

Es previlegio de aldea que los días se gozen y duren más, lo qual no es assí en los superbos pueblos, a do se passan muchos años sin sentirlos y muchos días sin gozarlos. Como en el campo se passe el tiempo con más passa tiempo que no en el pueblo, paresce por verdad que ay más en un día de aldea que no ay en un mes de corte. ¡O quál apacible es la morada del aldea, a do el sol es más prolixo, la mañana más temprana, la tarde más perezosa, la noche más quieta, la tierra menos húmeda, el agua más limpia, el aire más libre, los lodos más enxutos y los campos más alegres! El día de la ciudad siéntese y no se goza y el día del aldea gózase y no se siente; porque allí el día es más claro, es más desembarazado, es más largo, es más alegre, es más limpio, es más ocupado, es más gozado; y finalmente te digo que es mejor empleado y menos importuno.

Es previlegio del aldea que todo hombre que morare en ella tenga lefia para su casa, del qual previlegio no gozan los que moran en los grandes pueblos, en los quales es la leña muy trabajosa de aver y muy costosa de comprar; porque los valdíos a do cortan están lexos y los montes cercanos están vedados. ¡O quánto va de invernar en la ciudad a invernar en el aldea! ; porque allí nunca falta roble de la dehesa, encina de lo vedado, cepas de viñas viejas, astillas de quando labran, manojos de quando sarmientan, ramas de quando podan, árboles que se secan o ramos que se derronchan.

Estas cosas son de voluntad; mas quando se veen en necessidad, pónense a derocar vardas, a quemar zarças, a rozar tomillos, a escamondar almendros, a remudar estacas, a partir rozas , a arranoar escobas , a cortar retamas, a coger orujo, a guardar granzones, a secar estiércol, a traer cardos, a coger serojas y aun a buscar boñigas.

Es previlegio del aldea que esté cada uno proveído de la paja necesaria para su casa, lo qual no es assí en los pueblos ni en la corte; porque allí la leña, y la paja, y la cebada, son las tres cosas que a los señores son menos costosas de pagar y más enojosas de aver. Es necessaria la paja para las mulas que carretean, para los bueyes en invierno, para las ovejas quando nieva, para el potro en que andan, para las potras que paren, para las muletas que crían, para el horno a do cuezen, para las ca mas en que duermen, para el fuego a do se calientan, y aun para embiar al mercado una carga. El que para todas estas cosas. uviesse de comprar la paja, sentirlo hía al cabo del año en la bolsa.

Es previlegio del aldea que todos los que moran en ella coman a do quisieren y a la hora que quisieren, lo qual no es assí en la corte y grandes pueblos, a do les es forçado comer tarde, y frío, y desabrido, y aun con quien tienen por enemigo. ¡0 bendita tú, aldeat, a do comen al fuego si es invierno, en el portal si es verano, en la huerta si ay combidados, so el parral si haze calor, en el prado si es primavera, en la fuente si es Pascus, en las eras si trillan, en las viñas si plantan majuelo, a solas si traen luto, acompañados si es fiesta, de mañana si van camino, olla podrida si vienen de caza, todo cozido si no tienen dientes, todo assado si quieren arreciar, a la tarde si no lo han gana, o muy temprano si tienen apetito. Tres condiciones ha de tener la buena comida, es a saber: comer quando lo ha gana, comer de lo que ha gana, comer con grata compañía; y al que faltaren estas condiciones, maldizirá lo que come y aun a sí mesmo que lo come.

Es previlegio de aldea que todos los que moran en ella tengan qué se ocupar y con quién se recrear, lo qual no es assí en la corte y grandes ciudades, a do son muy pocos los de quien nos fiamos e infini. tos los que tememos. ¡0 felice vida la del aldea! , a do todos los que allí moran tienen sus passatiempos en pescar con vara, armar pájaros, echar buitrones

Notes

1 ↩"reciente" in this defect-list of bought bread is rendered as "too fresh" (still new/raw-soft rather than well set); period sense may also simply mean newly baked.
2 ↩"trigo candeal" = fine white bread-wheat (candeal), not ordinary mixed grain; kept as "fine white wheat."
3 ↩"tortas para offrescer" likely means cakes/flatbreads for church offering or alms; rendered "cakes to offer" to keep the devotional-offering sense without over-specifying rite.
4 ↩Source "pusda" read as "pueda" (can); "pravilegio" as "previlegio" (privilege).
5 ↩Source "oras" rendered as threshing floors (likely "eras"); if kept as written, sense is uncertain.
6 ↩After "bateos" the clause "en ella más sanos y mucho menos enfermos" lacks an explicit verb; sense taken as "people there are healthier and far less often sick."
7 ↩"físicos moços" rendered as young/inexperienced physicians, antithetical to "enfermedades viejas" (old, chronic diseases).
8 ↩Corrupt "no aportan ciones" taken as medical "opilaciones" (blockages/obstructions), matching the following humoral terms (spleen, liver, fainting, surfeit).
9 ↩Source reading 'jo bendite aldea' is treated as corrupt early modern Spanish for 'o bendita aldea' (O blessed village), matching the chapter's repeated apostrophe pattern (¡O bendita tú, aldea!).
10 ↩passa tiempo is rendered as pastime (pleasant occupation of time), not mere killing of time; the contrast is with empty town/court hours.
11 ↩prolixo rendered as lasts longer (prolonged daylight), not wordy; perezosa as lingering/slow for evening light; enxutos as drier.
12 ↩desembarazado rendered freer/unencumbered (unobstructed day); ocupado as fuller (well occupied, not merely busy); importuno as burdensome/troublesome.
13 ↩valdíos = baldíos (common/waste lands where free cutting is allowed); vedados = reserved/forbidden woods (enclosures or preserves where cutting is barred).
14 ↩dehesa = open oak pasture/wood pasture. encina de lo vedado = holm oak from reserved/enclosed land (still available as village fuel in Guevara's contrast). sarmientan = pruning vine shoots into fuel bundles. derronchan ≈ break off/snap down.
15 ↩Source verb arranoar is nonstandard/uncertain in early modern Spanish; rendered as pulling up broom plants (likely arrancar or a related rural verb for gathering broom shrub for fuel). Escobas here are broom plants used as fuel, not household brooms.
16 ↩De voluntad contrasts free choice/availability with later necessidad: the better village fuels of the previous section are taken at will; under pressure, villagers still resort to every lesser scrap of fuel.
17 ↩Source reads 'las ca mas' (line-break split); translated as 'las camas' (beds), the only plausible reading in context of straw for sleeping.
18 ↩Fragment: syntactic unit continues in s4 ('El que para todas estas cosas uviesse de comprar la paja...').
19 ↩'sentirlo hía' is early modern mesoclisis of the conditional (sentirloía = lo sentiría): 'would feel it'.
20 ↩Source opens ¡0 bendita tú, aldeat; read as ¡O bendita tú, aldea! (Oh blessed village). 'Pascus' taken as Pascua (Eastertide). 'olla podrida' rendered as 'hearty stew' (the classic mixed pot). 'arreciar' rendered as wanting something heartier/fortifying, parallel to soft boiled food for the toothless.
21 ↩Source ends mid-word at «e infini.»; reading restored as the start of «infinitos», continued in the next sentence as «infinitos los que tememos».
22 ↩Fragment «tos los que tememos» is the remainder of a line-broken «infinitos los que tememos» begun in the previous sentence.
23 ↩Source «¡0 felice» read as «¡Oh felice» (OCR/zero for vocative O/Oh).
24 ↩«armar pájaros» rendered as snaring/setting traps for birds; «echar buitrones» as setting buitrones, a period bird-catching net or snare.

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