However," Said He, "We Must Not
Offend Oliban, He Is One Of Us, And Has Done Us Much Service; He
Is, moreover, a very clever man, but he is an Aragonese, and when
one of that nation once gets an
Idea into his head, it is the most
difficult thing in the world to dislodge it; however, we will go to
him; he is an old friend of mine, and I have no doubt but that we
shall be able to make him listen to reason." So the next day I
called upon Galiano, at his marine or admiralty office (what shall
I call it?), and from thence we proceeded to the bureau of the
interior, a magnificent edifice, which had formerly been the casa
of the Inquisition, where we had an interview with Oliban, whom
Galiano took aside to the window, and there held with him a long
conversation, which, as they spoke in whispers, and the room was
immensely large, I did not hear. At length Galiano came to me and
said, "There is some difficulty with respect to this business of
yours, but I have told Oliban that you are a friend of mine, and he
says that that is sufficient; remain with him now, and he will do
anything to oblige you; your affair is settled - farewell";
whereupon he departed and I remained with Oliban, who proceeded
forthwith to write something, which having concluded, he took out a
box of cigars, and having lighted one and offered me another, which
I declined as I do not smoke, he placed his feet against the table,
and thus proceeded to address me, speaking in the French language.
"It is with great pleasure that I see you in this capital, and, I
may say, upon this business. I consider it a disgrace to Spain
that there is no edition of the Gospel in circulation, at least
such a one as would be within the reach of all classes of society,
the highest or poorest; one unencumbered with notes and
commentaries, human devices, swelling it to an unwieldy bulk. I
have no doubt that such an edition as you propose to print, would
have a most beneficial influence on the minds of the people, who,
between ourselves, know nothing of pure religion; how should they?
seeing that the Gospel has always been sedulously kept from them,
just as if civilization could exist where the light of the Gospel
beameth not. The moral regeneration of Spain depends upon the free
circulation of the Scriptures; to which alone England, your own
happy country, is indebted for its high state of civilization, and
the unmatched prosperity which it at present enjoys; all this I
admit, in fact, reason compels me to do so, but - "
"Now for it," thought I.
"But" - and then he began to talk once more of the wearisome Council
of Trent, and I found that his writing in the paper, the offer of
the cigar, and the long and prosy harangue were - what shall I call
it? - mere [Greek text].
By this time the spring was far advanced, the sides though not the
tops of the Guadarama hills had long since lost their snows; the
trees of the Prado had donned their full foliage, and all the
Campina in the neighbourhood of Madrid smiled and was happy: the
summer heats had not commenced, and the weather was truly
delicious.
Towards the west, at the foot of the hill on which stands Madrid,
is a canal running parallel with the Manzanares for some leagues,
from which it is separated by pleasant and fertile meadows. The
banks of this canal, which was begun by Carlos Tercero, and has
never been completed, are planted with beautiful trees, and form
the most delightful walk in the neighbourhood of the capital. Here
I would loiter for hours looking at the shoals of gold and silver
fish which basked on the surface of the green sunny waters, or
listening, not to the warbling of birds - for Spain is not the land
of feathered choristers - but to the prattle of the narangero or man
who sold oranges and water by a little deserted watch tower just
opposite the wooden bridge that crosses the canal, which situation
he had chosen as favourable for his trade, and there had placed his
stall. He was an Asturian by birth, about fifty years of age, and
about five feet high. As I purchased freely of his fruit, he soon
conceived a great friendship for me, and told me his history; it
contained, however, nothing very remarkable, the leading incident
being an adventure which had befallen him amidst the mountains of
Granada, where, falling into the hands of certain Gypsies, they
stripped him naked, and then dismissed him with a sound cudgelling.
"I have wandered throughout Spain," said he, "and I have come to
the conclusion that there are but two places worth living in,
Malaga and Madrid. At Malaga everything is very cheap, and there
is such an abundance of fish, that I have frequently seen them
piled in heaps on the sea-shore: and as for Madrid, money is
always stirring at the Corte, and I never go supperless to bed; my
only care is to sell my oranges, and my only hope that when I die I
shall be buried yonder."
And he pointed across the Manzanares, where, on the declivity of a
gentle hill, at about a league's distance, shone brightly in the
sunshine the white walls of the Campo Santo, or common burying
ground of Madrid.
He was a fellow of infinite drollery, and, though he could scarcely
read or write, by no means ignorant of the ways of the world; his
knowledge of individuals was curious and extensive, few people
passing his stall with whose names, character, and history he was
not acquainted. "Those two gentry," said he, pointing to a
magnificently dressed cavalier and lady, who had dismounted from a
carriage, and arm in arm were coming across the wooden bridge,
followed by two attendants; "those gentry are the Infante Francisco
Paulo, and his wife the Neapolitana, sister of our Christina; he is
a very good subject, but as for his wife - vaya - the veriest scold
in Madrid; she can say carrajo with the most ill-conditioned
carrier of La Mancha, giving the true emphasis and genuine
pronunciation.
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