The Manuscript Found in Saragossa by Jan Potocki

came at last to an underground residence made up of many rooms and chambers. The walls of the living-rooms were all covered with cork to protect them from the damp. I have since visited the monastery at Cintra, near Lisbon, which has similar wall coverings. 1 It is known for this reason as the cork monastery.
    In addition, strategically placed and well-stoked fires made the temperature of Zoto’s underground dwelling very pleasant. The horses which he used for his men were dispersed here and there in the surrounding countryside. But even these could if necessary be brought down into the underground chambers through an opening which came out in a neighbouring valley. There was equipment for hoisting them up but it was very rarely used.
    â€˜All these marvels are the work of the Gomelez,’ Emina told me. ‘They excavated the rock when they were the masters of this region, or rather they finished off the excavation, much of which had been undertaken by the heathens who were living in the Alpujarras when the Gomelez invaded. Learned historians claim that this is the site of the mines of virgin gold of classical Baetica, and ancient prophecies predict that the whole region will one day return to the control of the Gomelez. What do you say to that, Alphonse? What a fine inheritance that would be!’
    Emina’s words seemed to me in very poor taste, and I let her know as much. Changing the subject, I asked what her future plans might be.
    Emina replied that after what had happened she and her sister could not remain in Spain, but they had resolved to have a little rest until arrangements could be made for their sailing.
    We were given a lavish dinner with a great deal of venison and preserves. The three brothers served us most attentively. I commented to my cousins that it would be impossible to find more obliging hanged men anywhere. Emina agreed and, turning to Zoto, said tohim, ‘You and your brothers must have had some very strange adventures. We should be delighted to hear about them.’
    After some coaxing, Zoto sat down beside us and began as follows:
   ZOTO’S STORY   
    I was born in the city of Benevento, the capital of the duchy of that name. My father, who was also called Zoto, was a skilled armourer. But as there were two other even more renowned armourers in the city, his trade barely provided an adequate living for himself, his wife and his three children, that is, my two brothers and myself.
    Three years after my father’s wedding a younger sister of my mother married an oil merchant called Lunardo, who gave her as a wedding present gold earrings and a gold chain to wear round her neck. On her return from the wedding, my mother seemed sunk in deep gloom. Her husband tried to find out why but she refused for a long time to tell him. Eventually she admitted that she was dying of envy, wishing to possess earrings and a necklace like her sister’s. My father said nothing, but he had a finely chased hunting-piece with two pistols, and a hunting-knife of similar workmanship. The gun could be fired four times without reloading. It had taken my father four years to make it. He valued it at three hundred ounces of Naples gold. He went to see a collector, to whom he sold the whole set for eighty ounces. Then he bought the jewels that my mother coveted and took them to her. That very day my mother went to show them off to the wife of Lunardo. Her earrings were considered to be a little more valuable than those of her sister, which gave her great pleasure.
    But a week later Lunardo’s wife paid a visit to my mother. She had had her hair braided and coiled, and it was held in place by a golden pin, the head of which was a filigree rose with a little ruby inset. This golden rose drove a cruel thorn in my mother’s heart. She relapsed into melancholy until my father promised her a pin like that of her sister. However, as my father had no money and no means of procuring