He Hated
Mendizabal With Undisguised Rancour, And Never Spoke Of Him But In
Terms Of Unmeasured Contempt.
"I am afraid that I shall have some
difficulty in inducing Mendizabal to give me permission to print
the Testament," said I to him one day.
"Mendizabal is a jackass,"
replied Galiano. "Caligula made his horse consul, which I suppose
induced Lord - to send over this huge burro of the Stock Exchange to
be our minister."
It would be very ungrateful on my part were I not to confess my
great obligations to Galiano, who assisted me to the utmost of his
power in the business which had brought me to Spain. Shortly after
the ministry was formed, I went to him and said, "that now or never
was the time to mike an effort in my behalf." "I will do so," said
he, in a waspish tone; for he always spoke waspishly whether to
friend or foe; "but you must have patience for a few days, we are
very much occupied at present. We have been outvoted in the
cortes, and this afternoon we intend to dissolve them. It is
believed that the rascals will refuse to depart, but Quesada will
stand at the door ready to turn them out, should they prove
refractory. Come along, and you will perhaps see a funcion."
After an hour's debate, the cortes were dissolved without it being
necessary to call in the aid of the redoubtable Quesada, and
Galiano forthwith gave me a letter to his colleague the Duke of
Rivas, in whose department he told me was vested the power either
of giving or refusing the permission to print the book in question.
The duke was a very handsome young man, of about thirty, an
Andalusian by birth, like his two colleagues. He had published
several works, tragedies, I believe, and enjoyed a certain kind of
literary reputation. He received me with the greatest affability;
and having heard what I had to say, he replied with a most
captivating bow, and a genuine Andalusian grimace: "Go to my
secretary; go to my secretary - el hara por usted el gusio." So I
went to the secretary, whose name was Oliban, an Aragonese, who was
not handsome, and whose manners were neither elegant nor affable.
"You want permission to print the Testament?" "I do," said I.
"And you have come to His Excellency about it," continued Oliban.
"Very true," I replied. "I suppose you intend to print it without
notes." "Yes." "Then His Excellency cannot give you permission,"
said the Aragonese secretary: "it was determined by the Council of
Trent that no part of the Scripture should be printed in any
Christian country without the notes of the church." "How many
years was that ago?" I demanded. "I do not know how many years ago
it was," said Oliban; "but such was the decree of the Council of
Trent." "Is Spain at present governed according to the decrees of
the Council of Trent?" I inquired. "In some points she is,"
answered the Aragonese, "and this is one.
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