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. But tell me who are you?
Are you known to the British minister?" "O yes, and he takes a
great interest in the matter." "Does he?" said Oliban; "that
indeed alters the case: if you can show me that His Excellency
takes in interest in this business, I certainly shall not oppose
myself to it."
The British minister performed all I could wish, and much more than
I could expect; he had an interview with the Duke of Rivas, with
whom he had much discourse upon my affair:
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