A multi-panel narrative by Mecachis (the pen name of Eduardo S. Hermua) in La Semana Cómico, Barcelona, 1890.

What many believe it to be

What it is in actuality.

Of course, between what is said and what is feared, there are people who find cases even in the soup;

so that, as a consequence, certain sites are extremely crowded

and that with such plausible motive, there are establishments that make their August [profit].

and doctors whom the epidemic thoroughly suits.

“Believe me: this cholera is nothing. Do you feel a little wooziness? Call the doctor. Headache? Call the doctor. Cramps or sweats? Always to the doctor.”
“And what are you?”
“A doctor, to serve you.”

The big prescription you can’t get [rest, the good life, good nutrition, etc.].

Final result of the epidemic: For the authorities: A shipment of large crosses

For the doctors. For the patients.

In sum: Nothing left

Spain from the Pyrenees on down
I contemplate what an inferno
In ruins and misrule
And this is what suits me
I enter if the Squint-eye lets me
To give good testimony
That the Cholera and Don Antonio [Cánovas del Costillo, prime minister who was forced from office by the end of that year]
Are coming to be one and the same.
(Don Quijote, Madrid, 1892)

Cholera: “Is the monster in?”
Porter: “Do come in, your delay is strange.”
Cholera: “While he governs Spain, you don’t need me, nor shall you.”
(Don Quijote, Madrid, 1892)
(Prime minister Antonio Cánovas del Castillo was sometimes referred to as “el Monstruo,” as seen in this image from El Motin.)

(Sewers belching miasma)
Boy: “It seems to me that you have made the trip in vain, friend Cholera; here we already have an absolute lack of hygiene, dreadful misery, and in case something was missing, we have [prime minister José] Canalejas with his democratic squad. What will be left for you?”
(El Fusil, Madrid, 1911)

Minister: “What did you want to settle in Spain with?… It cannot be, my friend; emergency scenarios are already covered. Wherever there is [prime minister José] Canalejas with his disturbances and [Liberal Party politician and member of the Council of Ministers Eduardo] Cobián with his [tax reform] projects, there is no need for cholera at all.”
(El Fusil, Madrid, 1910)

Cholera:
Ha ha, how good is the wine!
Ha ha, how hot it makes me!
I will leave the scythe
And dance the flamenco!
Gil Blas:
Ha ha, suck that egg!
Ha ha, how ugly you are!
You come here for wool,
I’m going to shear you!
(Gil Blas, Madrid, 1865)

A multi-panel narrative from Madrid cómico (1890):

The cholera was resting on the banks of the Ganges when a virgula bacillus arrived with a letter that said the following:

The governor, who was not secreted away, dictated severe provisions

and appointed a numerous and distinguished commission of wise men,

which, before setting off, wrote an enlightening report on the necessary precautions in such cases.

Already within the commission’s domain, the consequences of the disease were attentively and carefully observed, and it was declared that there is no doubt that it was the true morbid cholera of the worst kind.

Anyone who had family or friends around the infected site was subject to a preventive cordon.

The official news was increasingly terrifying

And people were entertained with always healthy fumigations and fires.

Apprehensive families, taking advantage of the darkness of the night, fled to the mountain peaks,

and clinics for travelers were established everywhere.

When the cholera answered his disciple with the attached letter and visited him shortly afterwards, making him a victim in passing,

it was meticulously recognized by the commission of wise men, whose president announced urbi et orbi that the disease was entering the period of decline, and that the last case was no longer cholera, but colic.

“Are you voting for the government?”
“No, for the opposition.”
“This man has cholera; put him to bed and make him sweat a lot.”
“First I will vote.”
“No, barbarian, health comes first!”
(Gil Blas, Madrid, 1865)

“My daughter, we are wrong. The telegraph tells us that in London, in Berlin, in Paris, and in Vienna bread is more expensive.”
“Well, that’s the cholera… of the stomach.”
(Gil Blas, Madrid, 1867) (Let’s assume I’m missing some word play here.)

The nut is coming!

“My lord, I am going on a trip to Europe, and I think it very fair that you should transport my luggage.”
“I shall take it with pleasure, but charge for the passage.”

“Have they called?”
(Surely it’s the fulminating cholera.)
“Come on, open up, Arturo.”
“No; ladies first.”

“I am terrible, I am cruel. Whoever catches a sip of me….. Cholera morbo is here for anyone who wants something from him!”

(Madrid Cómico, Madrid, 1883)

Gedeón: “And you are definitely not visiting Spain this year?”
Cholera: “There might be a little escapade… But anyway, I’ve already sent a couple of delegates: the bull and the car.”
(Gedeón, Madrid, 1911)

Cholera (left); Morocco (middle); Bank Santander market info, bullfighter Vicente Pastor (right)
Note. No comment is made because it would be necessary to post the same as always, and we do not want to go to a place of pessimism.
(Gedeón, Madrid, 1911)

Like every year around this time, the well-known and terrible guest Don Cholera Morbo Asiatico is sure to pass a season among us.
(Gedeón, Madrid, 1911)