I am merely
carrying to them the New Testament, of which they evidently stand
in much need, if they are such knaves and scoundrels as you
represent them."
"Represent them, my dear sir. Does not the matter speak for
itself? Do they not say that their town is better than ours, more
fit to be the capital of a district, que disparate! que briboneria!
(what folly! what rascality!)"
"Is there a bookseller's shop at Vigo?" I inquired.
"There was one," he replied, "kept by an insane barber. I am glad,
for your sake, that it is broken up, and the fellow vanished; he
would have played you one of two tricks; he would either have cut
your throat with his razor, under pretence of shaving you, or have
taken your books and never have accounted to you for the proceeds.
Bay! I never could see what right such an owl's nest as Vigo has to
a bay."
No person could exhibit greater kindness to another, than did the
notary public to myself, as soon as I had convinced him that I had
no intention of siding with the men of Vigo against Pontevedra. It
was now six o'clock in the evening, and he forthwith conducted me
to a confectioner's shop, where he treated me with an iced cream
and a small cup of chocolate. From hence we walked about the city,
the notary showing the various edifices, especially, the Convent of
the Jesuits: "See that front," said he, "what do you think of it?"
I expressed to him the admiration which I really felt, and by so
doing entirely won the good notary's heart: "I suppose there is
nothing like that at Vigo?" said I. He looked at me for a moment,
winked, gave a short triumphant chuckle, and then proceeded on his
way, walking at a tremendous rate. The Senor Garcia was dressed in
all respects as an English notary might be: he wore a white hat,
brown frock coat, drab breeches buttoned at the knees, white
stockings, and well blacked shoes. But I never saw an English
notary walk so fast: it could scarcely be called walking: it
seemed more like a succession of galvanic leaps and bounds. I
found it impossible to keep up with him: "Where are you conducting
me?" I at last demanded, quite breathless.
"To the house of the cleverest man in Spain," he replied, "to whom
I intend to introduce you; for you must not think that Pontevedra
has nothing to boast of but its splendid edifices and its beautiful
country; it produces more illustrious minds than any other town in
Spain. Did you ever hear of the grand Tamerlane?"
"Oh, yes," said I, "but he did not come from Pontevedra or its
neighbourhood:
