Cómo Lázaro se asentó con un buldero y de las cosas que con él pasó

     En el quinto por mi ventura di, que fue un buldero,¹ el más desenvuelto y desvergonzado, y el mayor echador de ellas que jamás yo vi ni ver espero, ni pienso nadie vio. Porque tenía y buscaba modos y maneras y muy sutiles invenciones.
     En entrando en los lugares donde habían de presentar la bula, primero presentaba a lo clérigos o curas algunas cosillas, no tampoco de mucho valor ni sustancia: una lechuga murciana, si era por el tiempo; un par de limas or naranjas; un melocotón; un par de duraznos; cada sendas peras verdinales. Así procuraba tenerlos propicios, porque favoreciesen su negocio y llamasen sus feligreses a tomar la bula.

     Ofreciéndosele a él las gracias, se informaba de la suficiencia de ellos. Si decían que entendían, no hablaba palabra en latín, por no dar tropezón; mas se aprovechaba de un gentil y bien cortado romance y desenvoltísima lengua. Y si sabía que los dichos clérigos eran de los reverendos (digo, que más con dineros que con letras, y con reverendas se ordenan), se hacía entre ellos un Santo Tomás y hablaba dos horas en latín. A lo menos, que lo parecía, aunque no lo era.
     Cuando por bien no le tomaban las bulas, buscaba cómo por mal se las tomasen. Y para aquello hacía molestias al pueblo, y otras veces con mañosos artificios. Y porque todos los que le veía hacer sería largo de contar, diré uno muy sutil y donoso, con el cual probaré bien su suficiencia.
     En un lugar de la Sagra de Toledo² había predicado dos o tres días, haciendo sus acostumbradas diligencias, y no le habían tomado bula, ni a mi ver tenían intención de se la tomar. Estaba dado al diablo con aquello, y pensando qué hacer, se acordó de convidar al pueblo para otro día de

How Lázaro served a pardoner and of the affairs that came to pass with him

     The fifth master dealt me by fortune, was a Pardoner,¹ the most self-assured and shameless and the greatest dealer of them that I ever saw, or that I hope to see, or I think anybody ever saw. Because he possessed and sought out methods and manners and very subtle fabrications.
     Upon entering the villages where they were to present the papal bull, he first presented the clerics or curates some little things of not much value or substance: lettuce from Murcia, if it was in season; a couple of limes or oranges; an apricot; a couple of peaches; bright-green pears to each and every one. In this way he endeavored to have them regard him in a favorable light, thus promoting his business by speaking to their parishioners about taking up the bull.
     Offering up their thanks, they informed him of their abilities. If they told him they understood Latin, he didn't speak a word of it, for the sake of not stumbling; but exploited a genteel and well-trimmed vernacular with his very graceful tongue. But if he found that the aforesaid clerics were reverends (I call those who were ordained more through wealth than by learning or upon recommendation), he would shift into being a Saint Thomas among them and talk two hours in Latin. At least, what seemed to be, although it wasn't.
     When they didn't take up his bulls willingly, he sought out how they might take them up some way or the other. And for that he pestered the townspeople, while at other times used cunning artifices. And because all these instances of what I saw him do would be too long in telling, I will speak of a very subtle and witty one with which I shall prove his skill.
     In a place in the Sagra de Toledo² he had preached two or three days, doing his customary formalities, and they hadn't taken a bull, nor could I see they had any intention of taking it up. Being cursed with that, and in thinking what to do, he resolved to convene the townspeople the next day in order to