J,(Rt«fl^«!tl 
 
 p^!j^/:^|^L^.. 
 
 LI E) R.AFLY 
 
 OF THE 
 
 UN IVLR5ITY 
 
 or ILLINOIS 
 
 W5844v 
 
 V. I
 
 # 
 
 VARGAS.
 
 C. Baldwin, Printet, 
 New Briiisre-street, liontlon.
 
 VARGAS: 
 
 £# 
 
 A TALE OF SPAIN. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 PRINTED FOR BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY. 
 1822.
 
 Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive 
 
 in 2010 witii funding from 
 
 University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/vargasfaleofspai01whit
 
 ez5 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In sending the following Tale into 
 the world, it may not be improper to 
 account for its appearance, by giving 
 some information respecting its Au- 
 thor. 
 
 The late Mr. Cornelius Villiers was 
 
 destined by his parents for the church, 
 
 )j and having passed with credit through 
 
 Sr the University, was about to take or- 
 
 s ders, when a most advantageous pros- 
 
 -^ pect was held out to him by a distant 
 
 relation, a respectable and wealthy 
 
 '--) merchant, established at Cadiz, who 
 
 'vJ proposed to make him his sole heir 
 
 if he would settle himself in his 
 
 u^counting-house, and fit himself for 
 
 ^- the business of a commercial life.
 
 VI PREFACE. 
 
 Sach an offer was not to be refused, 
 and Mr. Villiers bid adieu to the 
 University almost as soon as he had 
 put on his Bachelors gown. 
 
 He passed ten years nominally at 
 the desk of his relation ; but, in fact, 
 in indulging his natural taste lor 
 literature, and in studying particularly 
 tliat of Spain. He mixed freely in 
 the best society of Cadiz and of Se- 
 ville, and became equally enamoured 
 of the Spanish character, and dis- 
 gusted with the life of a merchant. 
 This latter feeling did not escape the 
 observation of his relative ; who, in 
 dying, left the greater part of his 
 capital to a thrifty partner, whom he 
 had added to his firm ; excusing him- 
 self in his will from performing his 
 promise to Mr. Villiers, by pleading 
 that gentleman's evident dislike to, 
 and consequent incapacity for, the
 
 PREFACE. Vll 
 
 commercial profession. As a compen- 
 sation, however, for the alteration 
 which he had caused in Mr. Vilher's 
 prospects, he bequeathed him a mo- 
 derate sum, more than sufficient to 
 supply the usual comforts of a batche- 
 lor's life. 
 
 Upon the death of his relation, Mr. 
 Villiers determined to make himself 
 acquainted with the whole of the 
 Peninsula ; and he accordingly set 
 out upon his travels, in the course of 
 which he visited most of the principal 
 cities of Spain and of Portugal, re- 
 siding several months in each, where- 
 ever he found any inducement to pro- 
 long his stay. Although the study 
 of human nature in general, and the 
 national character of Spain in par- 
 ticular, were his great objects, yet he 
 was not insensible to the beauty and 
 variety of the face of that fine coun- 
 
 6
 
 Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 try, but took every opportunity of ex- 
 ploring its Sierras, and of visiting 
 even the most unfrequented spots 
 which seemed to promise a reward 
 for the trouble of attaining them. 
 
 While continuing this progress 
 through the land, he was diverted 
 in its course by the commencement of 
 the Peninsular contest. Alternately 
 assuming the characters of a Spaniard 
 and of an Englishman, he had an op- 
 portunity of following the current of 
 that most interesting portion of the 
 Modern History of Spain, with ad- 
 vantages that were possessed by few. 
 He attached himself to the different 
 armies, as the interest of their move- 
 ments varied ; and, in many cases, 
 trusting to his Spanish accent and ap- 
 pearance for security against extraor- 
 dinary danger, he ventured to throw 
 himself into the line of march of the
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 French troops, that he might have an 
 opportunity of witnessing the con- 
 duct of the invaders towards the un- 
 happy and oppressed inhabitants. 
 
 From this interesting occupation 
 Mr. Villiers was withdrawn, in conse- 
 quence of becoming unexpectedly the 
 inheritor of a considerable estate in 
 his native country. He returned to 
 England at the end of the year 1813 ; 
 not however, until he had had the sa- 
 tisfaction of seeing the French armies 
 driven entirely out of the Peninsula. 
 
 When settled upon his newly ac- 
 quired estate, Mr. Villiers found it 
 difficult to reconcile the wandering 
 habits which he had acquired with the 
 quiet life of an English country gen- 
 tleman. Strongly impressed with the 
 propriety of spending his income a- 
 mong the people from whom he de- 
 rived it, he forbore to indulge his
 
 X PREFACE. 
 
 inclination for travelling; and after 
 devising many plans for the occupa- 
 tion of his time, he, at length, deter- 
 mined to draw his amusement from 
 the stores of his memory, and to at- 
 tempt to illustrate the history, and 
 delineate the character and customs 
 of the people, among whom he had 
 passed so largo a portion of his life, 
 in a series of tales, each referring to a 
 different historical period, endeavour- 
 ing to draw a picture of Spanish man- 
 ners, at the point of time to which 
 each tale relates. 
 
 Although it w^as his wish and in- 
 tention that these tales should ulti- 
 mately be submitted to the public 
 eye, yet no persuasion could ever in- 
 duce him to publish them during his 
 lifetime. It is not necessary to exa- 
 mine into his motives, for thus refus- 
 ing to seek that public approbation of
 
 PREFACE. XI 
 
 his labours, which he certainly was 
 desirous of obtaining ; nor could such 
 an examination lead to any satisfactory 
 or just conclusion. It is, besides, a 
 point not likely to be interesting to 
 any but his personal friends, who will 
 already have judged him by their in- 
 dividual acquaintance with him. 
 
 Mr. Villiers is now no more ; and 
 he has left his papers to the Editor, 
 with a discretionary power to publish 
 all, or such part of them, as in his judg- 
 ment he may think fit. This was 
 leaving them to a very insufficient and 
 partial criterion. The friendship and 
 affection of the Editor for the Author 
 has been of long standing, and his ad- 
 miration for the qualities of his heart 
 may have induced him to make an 
 exaggerated estimate of his talents. In 
 this dilemma, theEditorhasdetermined 
 to publish the following Tale, as a
 
 XU PREFACE. 
 
 specimen of those which remain in his 
 hands. The pubHc will then have an 
 opportunity of deciding whether they 
 excite sufficient general interest to 
 gratify the present taste, and whether 
 the Editor has overrated the literary 
 talents of his departed friend.
 
 VARGAS 
 
 CHAPTER I.— INTRODUCTORY. 
 
 El empezar es lo penoso. 
 
 Spanish Proverbi^al Phrase. 
 
 Well begun is half done. 
 
 Parallel English Saying. 
 
 It is a very difficult thing to begin 
 to write a book. I remember when I 
 was at Oxford, and in the habit of 
 composing essays as a self-imposed 
 task by way of practice, that I used to 
 ponder for an hour upon my opening 
 sentences ; but having framed one to 
 my mind, my pen would flow on with- 
 out difficulty, from the impulse it had 
 
 VOL. I. B
 
 2 VARGAS. 
 
 acquired. In proportion as the writ- 
 ing of a book is a more important 
 task than the writing of an essay, my 
 difficulty in laying the first stone has 
 increased. I had chosen my subject, 
 and sketched out my plan — nay more, 
 1 had actually written several detached 
 portions, which are to be dovetailed in- 
 to certain parts of the work, and which 
 lie upon my table, like stray counties 
 belonging to a dissected map : I had 
 besides gazed at my fire for the 
 greater part of three days, with a coun- 
 tenance like that of Lord Burleigh, 
 in the Critic ; and with a full pen in 
 my hand which longed to relieve the 
 emptiness of the sheet of paper before 
 me ; after all I could not make a be- 
 ginning to please me. 
 
 Yawning and despairing, I was about 
 to give up my intention altogether, 
 when my eye happened to fall upon
 
 VARGAS. 3 
 
 a bundle of letters, the hand-writing 
 of which gave birth to an idea that 
 inspired me with courage. 
 
 " Nature,'* I exclaimed, '* no pom- 
 pous exordium can ever have the 
 effect of unadorned nature ! The sim- 
 ple truth is the surest eloquence. My 
 book shall begin to my readers, if I 
 should ever have any, as it began to 
 me. This letter, together with my 
 own, to which it is an answer (and of 
 which, by the bye, I had fortunately 
 preserved a copy) will at once explain 
 my plan, and serve as my apology. — 
 This correspondence shall constitute 
 my first chapter;" and here it is: 
 
 Letter from Cornelius Villiers to 
 Don Juan Beamonte. 
 
 You congratulate me, my friend, 
 upon the acquisition of fortune, and 
 you take it for granted that it implies 
 b2
 
 4 VARGAS. 
 
 an acquisition of happiness. I am not 
 ungrateful for the blessings which sur- 
 round me ; but, strange as it may ap- 
 pear, I am very much puzzled to know 
 how to enjoy them. I have passed 
 eighteen years of my life in reading 
 that many-volumed work of nature, 
 the mind of man, but in a country 
 very different from the one which I 
 now inhabit. To have access to her 
 vast library, I have been a constant 
 wanderer for the last eight years. 
 Some atheists tell us that our organs 
 are gradually generated by their appli- 
 cation, and not that the application 
 arises from the existence of the organ. 
 According to this method, my roving 
 disposition has made wings to my 
 mind, and I would fain fly away and 
 range over the perilous pinnacles of 
 the Pyrennees, the Sierra dc Guadar- 
 rama or that of Morena, or perch upon
 
 VARGAS. 5 
 
 the pleasant flat roofs of Seville or 
 Cadiz. But as my wings are clipped, 
 they are not only useless but burden- 
 some to me, and I am anxiously look- 
 ing for the period when, according to 
 the same law which engendered them, 
 the habit of sitting still shall have worn 
 them away. 
 
 One of the most considerable incon- 
 veniences which I find to be the result 
 of my transplantation to this soil is, 
 that by throwing me into a new lite- ^ 
 rary as well as social world, I can 
 obtain no sympathy in those studies 
 and pursuits which have hitherto 
 formed my principal enjoyment. There 
 are well informed and even literary 
 and scientific men amongst my neigh- 
 bours ; but not one who has an idea 
 that Spain ever produced any thing 
 worth reading, except Don Quixote. 
 Tiie name of Lope, and sometimes
 
 VARGAS, 
 
 that of Calderon, are mentioned as 
 Spanish poets ; but all that is known 
 of the genius of either is its fecundity. 
 Herrera, Mendoza, Luis de Leon, and 
 even Garcilaso de la Vega and the 
 Argensolas, are all unborn in England. 
 Nor have the prose writers been more 
 fortunate than the poets ; even in the 
 department of history, in which Spain 
 has been so abundant in eminent 
 writers, Mariana is the only author 
 who is ever heard of here. The best 
 informed of the English know nothing 
 of the early chroniclers, and never 
 heard the names of Zurita and Mo* 
 rales. The delightful old naive chro- 
 nicles of Lopez de Ayala, that of the 
 Constable Don Alvaro de Luna, and 
 that of the Conde Don Pero Niiio, 
 which we used to con over together 
 with so much gratification on the pol- 
 letillo in the orange bower at Cartuxa;
 
 VARGAS. 7 
 
 all these are undiscovered mines to 
 the readers in England. 
 
 What appears to me most extraor- 
 dinary is, that with all the desire of in- 
 formation which well-educated Eng- 
 lishmen possess, and with the heart- 
 stirring interest which Spain has so 
 lately excited, there should still exist 
 so much ignorance of her former his- 
 tory, and so little curiosity about it. 
 Charles V. is indeed known, but he is 
 principally talked of in his imperial 
 character. Every body has heard of 
 his son Philip ; but they have heard 
 of him only as a bigot who op- 
 posed the Reformation in Flanders, 
 and invaded England. A history of 
 his reign has been published, which is 
 a very excellent history of the Nether- 
 lands during that period, but nothing 
 more. Indeed, when I see the pau- 
 city of historical information respect-
 
 » VARGAS. 
 
 ing Spain which exists in this country, 
 I feel almost inclined to turn historian 
 myself; to cull the flowers with which 
 the extensive garden of Spanish his- 
 tory abounds, that I may present 
 them as a rare bouquet of exotics to 
 my countrymen. 
 
 You would naturally suppose that 
 the number of young men of family 
 and education who have served for a 
 considerable time in the ever-memo- 
 rable war which has given you your 
 liberty, must at once both have im- 
 parted to their fellow-countrymen a 
 desire to become acquainted with the 
 character and manners of the Spa- 
 niards, and have been able, in some 
 measure, to gratify it. But you are 
 not acquainted with the English. 
 Proud, and justly proud of their po- 
 litical preponderance and of their great 
 moral and intellectual advancement.
 
 VARGAS. 9 
 
 they turn at once from a state of ci- 
 vilization which appears to them to be 
 inferior to their own, and have not the 
 patience to examine it more closely. 
 They too often injudiciously deprive 
 themselves of many opportunities of 
 information, and produce national en- 
 mity by contemptuously assuming 
 their own superiority, and neglecting 
 to pay attention to the feelings and 
 prejudices of foreigners amongst whom 
 they reside, especially when there are 
 a number of them together. This 
 feeling it is which has formed a se- 
 rious obstacle to a knowledge of Spa- 
 nish manners finding its way into 
 England. You will hardly believe that 
 whole crowds of young English gen- 
 tlemen have marched and counter- 
 marched from the pillars of Hercules 
 to the Pyrenees, without gaining even 
 a tolerable knowledge of the Spanish 
 B 5
 
 10 VARGAS, 
 
 language, and, what is worse, without 
 being ashamed of their ignorance. 
 
 You see, therefore, that in acquir- 
 ing a large addition of what are called 
 the goods of life, I am thrown out of 
 the market for those mental commo- 
 dities with which I have for so long a 
 period been occupied in storing my 
 magazines, and upon the free circula- 
 tion of which I consequently depend 
 for enjoyment. A clever cotton mer- 
 chant may be a very stupid trader in 
 wine, and I am settled in a port 
 where there is no demand for my 
 article. This mercantile metaphor 
 would rather seem to have flowed 
 from the counting-house quill which 
 I used to wield of old, than from the 
 wild goose feather that has indicted 
 my latter epistles to you. To con- 
 tinue it, however, let me put you in 
 mind, that as a merchant is always
 
 VARGAS. 1 1 
 
 happy to receive an order for an ar- 
 ticle of which he cannot otherwise 
 dispose, so your letters, which have 
 ever given me pleasure, will in future 
 afford me a much greater degree of 
 gratification, since they will give me 
 almost the only opportunity I shall 
 possess of dilating upon my favourite 
 topics. 
 
 Letter from Don Juan Beatnofite, to 
 Cornelius Viiiiers, Esq.y in reply to 
 
 the foregoing. 
 
 Seville. 
 
 The picture you draw, my friend, 
 of the ignorance of your countrymen 
 upon the history and literature of this 
 magnanimous nation, astonishes me 
 and excites my compassion. — What ! 
 are the enlightened English unac- 
 quainted with the succession of glori- 
 3
 
 12 VARGAS. 
 
 ous achievements which have raised the 
 Spanish name to its acme of greatness, 
 from the Aragonese conquest of Naples, 
 step by step, up to the never-to-be- 
 mentioned -without-unspeakable-admi- 
 ration * contest with those darkest 
 sons of Satan, the French, and in 
 which those very Enghsh have them- 
 selves borne so conspicuous and ge- 
 nerous a part ? Have they no know- 
 ledge of the poets that adorned the 
 reign of John II, nor of the reign of 
 Lope de Vega, that adorned the time 
 of Philip III ? But why do I allow 
 my astonishment to overcome my feel- 
 ings of friendship, which would rather 
 induce me to rejoice that it is re- 
 served for my dear Correvillasi to 
 
 * 1 have translated this letter literally, lest my 
 readers should imagine it to be a fabrication of 
 my own, as a manoeuvre for the commencement 
 of my book. C. V. 
 
 f Any of my readers, who may be versed in
 
 VARGAS. 1 3 
 
 remove the mist of darkness from the 
 minds of so estimable a people, and to 
 lay before their dazzled understand- 
 ings these new — these transcendant 
 treasures. 
 
 Where is thy active and bustling 
 genius, O Corre ! that was wont to 
 find occupation for every hour, to fill 
 up even the chinks and corners of 
 time when it was passed on the banks 
 of the Betis ? Thy patriotism and thy 
 leisure conspire to point out to thee 
 the task that is appointed for thee. - 
 Thou art destined to be the telescope 
 through which England shall examine 
 the stars of Spain. Begin directly, 
 
 the Spanish language, will easily perceive the re- 
 semblance between this appellation which it has 
 pleased my jocose friends in Spain to bestow 
 upon me, in consequence of the many towns 
 through which 1 have rambled, and my more 
 serious and ostensible name Cor. Villiers. This 
 nicknaming is a way they have in Spain. C. V.
 
 1 4 VARGAS. 
 
 and set forth the constellation that 
 illumined the court of John II ; 
 translate the Chronicles of Pedro 
 Lopez de Ayala, and the poems of 
 Juan de Mena, as its stars of the first 
 magnitude. 
 
 But, seriously, does not the com- 
 bination of your large shaie of unap- 
 propriated leisure, with the want of 
 information upon Spanish subjects in 
 those around you, suggest a remedy 
 for the evil you complain of? 1 think 
 that the vivacity of your imagination 
 is against your undertaking the graver 
 office of an historian, but there are 
 departments in literature in which 
 that vivacity will prove an advanta- 
 geous qualification. What think you 
 of introducing my countrymen to 
 yours, by making them acquainted 
 with some of the minuter portions of 
 our history, in which the application
 
 VARGAS. 15 
 
 of our institutions is shown, and the 
 national character developed ? You 
 know that there are abundance of 
 chronicles giving the most minute 
 detail of individual occurrences at al- 
 most every period since Alphonso the 
 Wise ; choose some of these ; and if 
 you think that these alone would not 
 possess sufficient interest in a foreign 
 nation, give the rein to your imagina- 
 tion, and interweave the fictitious un- 
 derplots of the secondary characters 
 upon the real adventures of the heroes; 
 this will afford you an opportunity of 
 painting our manners and character 
 in various points of view, and cannot 
 fail of conveying information concern- 
 ing us, as well as exciting interest for 
 us. 
 
 There are so many of the minute 
 and authentic legends to which I have 
 alluded, that you have a great field
 
 16 VARGAS. 
 
 for selection. I remember how for- 
 cibly our interest was excited when we 
 read the relations of Antonio Perez to- 
 gether, and how undauntedly we perse- 
 vered in the task of collecting the sense 
 from that most abominably printed, 
 and worse spelt edition, published at 
 Geneva, which, thanks to the defunct 
 Inquisition, is the best, if not the 
 only one, of Perez's works, wM'etched 
 as it is : surely his story must interest 
 every body. But I do not presume 
 to select a subject, for you — I only 
 entreat you to pitch upon one for 
 yourself, and to set to work as soon as 
 possible. I shall long to hear that you 
 have determined to execute this plan. 
 
 There is no necessity for me to 
 copy the rest of my friend Don Juan's
 
 VARGAS. 17 
 
 letter. The reader who is aware that 
 *' mighty volumes rise from trivial 
 things/* will have seen the foundation 
 of the work on which he is about to 
 enter, and has, no doubt, already given 
 me credit for my candour in resigning 
 the merit of the idea to another, when 
 I could so easily have retained it for 
 myself. By the bye, as this may pro- 
 bably have produced an impression in 
 my favour on the mind of the reader, 
 I think that I had better take advan- 
 tage of it, and begin my story at 
 once ; for I cannot divest myself of a 
 nervous anticipation that my opening 
 sentence, even though it be in the se- 
 cond chapter, will require a prepara- 
 tion of good humour.
 
 1 8 VARGAS. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 f 
 
 I have been i*the market-place ; and, sir, 'tis fit 
 You make strong party, or defend yourself 
 By calmness or by absence ; all's in anger. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The good citizens of Zaragoza, in 
 common with their brother Spaniards, 
 were wont to take their midday meal 
 literally at midday, in the year 1590, 
 to which period of their history the 
 reader is about to be introduced. 
 Two hundred years have altered the 
 domestic arrangements of the Spanish 
 housekeeper, and delayed that import- 
 ant event in the day for three hours ; 
 and that their dining hour is no later, 
 may, perhaps, be considered by some 
 shrewd calculator to concur in author- 
 izing the opinion of the friends of po-
 
 VARGAS. 1 9 
 
 lltical liberty, that the Spanish nation 
 is still two centuries behind our happy 
 England in point of civilization; for at 
 the rate they have gone since the end 
 of the sixteenth century, it would just 
 take them two hundred years more to 
 arrive at our civilized dining hour of 
 six in the evening. As the custom of 
 dining at twelve o'clock was universal 
 throughout Zaragoza, it became a na- 
 tural consequence that the streets and 
 public walks of that city should be 
 nearly as tranquil at midday as at 
 midnight. It might be imagined that 
 the overpowering heat of the meridian 
 sun in a climate like that of Aragon, 
 would have been sufficient to produce 
 this tranquillity in the streets : either 
 cause was powerful enough for the 
 effect ; and as both combined to pro- 
 duce it, my comparison of Zaragoza
 
 20 VARGAS. 
 
 at midclay, and Zaragoza at midnight, 
 must have been fully justified. 
 
 Another cause lent its aid to pro- 
 long the repose and quiet of the city. 
 As the people were in the habit of 
 devoting the first hour of the sun's 
 decline to their more substantial meal, 
 they generally gave up the second, 
 and a good part of the third, to the 
 proper digesting of it ; to assist which 
 they usually slept. The siesta being 
 quite as habitual, and consequently as 
 necessary as the dinner, it happened 
 that from twelve o'clock until three 
 the city was perfectly still ; the bu- 
 siness of its inhabitants rested for a 
 time ; there was a temporary suspen- 
 sion of all intercourse j so much so, 
 that the appearance of a passer by in 
 the street, if it would not excite sus- 
 picion of his intents in the mind of a
 
 VARGAS. 21 
 
 casual observer from a window, could 
 hardly fail of producing surprise. 
 
 It was this " stilly hour " of day 
 that was judged the most proper for 
 the execution of a design, which those 
 who attempted it were aware could 
 not be performed without danger, in 
 the face of an injured, irritated people, 
 bold and courageous at all times, and 
 particularly jealous of their chartered 
 and long preserved liberties and pri- 
 vileges. The Inquisitors knew how 
 slightly their baneful Upas tree had 
 taken root in the free, and yet uncon- 
 taminated soil of Aragon, where 
 there had been little preparation from 
 the iron hand of despotism to fit it 
 for the nourishment of such a plant. 
 They knew also, that in violating the 
 sacred prison of the Manifestacion,^ 
 
 * The Maniftstacion in Aragon was a privi- 
 lege nearly similar to that secured to the British
 
 22 VARGAS. 
 
 they were destroying the very bulwark 
 of the liberty of Aragon — the only 
 security for her freedom ; that they 
 were tearing the very seal off her 
 charter; and they were well con- 
 vinced that the people thoroughly un- 
 derstood the importance of the post 
 which they attacked. There was dan- 
 ger, therefore, and they proceeded 
 with caution. 
 
 subject by the Habeas Corpus act. Any person, 
 either actually in durance or fearing to be so, 
 might demand manifestacion ; in which case he 
 was immediately imprisoned, or rather secured, 
 in a place more resembling a palace than a 
 prison, until his cause should have been legally 
 examined in whatever court it might have been 
 instituted, and his sentence pronounced and ap- 
 proved. If any punishment should have been 
 awarded to him, he was then delivered over to 
 the proper authority to enforce it ; but if he 
 should have been acquitted, he was set at liberty, 
 having in either case enjoyed personal security 
 from tyranny, oppression, or torture, all of which 
 were incompatible with the Aragonese Constitu- 
 tion.
 
 VARGAS. 23 
 
 The Marquis of Almenara, the hid- 
 den main spring of the ministerial ma- 
 chine that was working at Zaragoza, 
 invented and set in motion by the 
 crafty Philip, had been seen in the 
 morning to go into the Aljaferia, at 
 that time the palace of the Inquisi- 
 tion ; whence, having directed the 
 movements of his visible agents^ he 
 retired to his own house to wait the 
 event. Scarcely was the silent hour 
 of twelve arrived on Friday, the 24th 
 of May, 1590, when the Inquisitors 
 despatched, at the same moment, two 
 deputations. One of these, composed 
 of a superior officer of the tribunal, 
 and some alguazils, went to the Jus- 
 ticia of Aragon,* to demand the body 
 
 * The Justicia of Aragon was the supreme 
 judge of the kingdom, elected by the people, and 
 possessing a power equal to the king himself, 
 who was bound to consult the Justicia in all 
 doubtful and diflBcult cases, and to abide by his
 
 24 VARGAS. 
 
 of Antonio Perez, a Maniftstado, then 
 confined as such ; which demand 
 they made in consequence of his hav- 
 ing become amenable to the tribunal 
 of the Holy Office, for certain crimes 
 against the faith, &c. The other de- 
 putation consisted entirely of algua- 
 zils, who were desired to proceed 
 
 decision. He was the guardian of the liberties 
 of the people, and under the control of the 
 general Cortes only, as an appeal lay from the 
 decision of the king's judges to him. He had 
 three Lugnvienientes^ or deputies, any one of 
 whom was vested with his authority and power 
 during his absence, and all three together formed 
 his council. I have used the original word Lu- 
 garteniente because there were other and distinct 
 magistrates, called deputies, in the government 
 of Aragon, and because the word lieutenant^ 
 which seems to translate it, has not, in fact, its 
 full meaning. Lieutenant is completely trans- 
 lated by the Spanish word teniente. The addi- 
 tion of lugar seems to increase the power of the 
 word to express the extraordinary privileges of 
 these officers, and I can find no term in English 
 to convey this sense.
 
 VARGAS. 25 
 
 immediately to the prison of the Ma- 
 li ife'stacion, and to make the same de- 
 mand to the jailer, stating that they 
 possessed the authority of the Justicia 
 for so doing, as well as that of the 
 Holy Office. The Inquisitors consi- 
 dered that by this means they might 
 become possessed of the prisoner be- 
 fore the jailer could be put upon his 
 guard, should the Justicia perempto- 
 rily refuse their demand, as they had 
 reason to suppose he would ; and the 
 future discussion of the point would 
 be of little consequence to them^ after 
 they had succeeded in their ultimate 
 object ; on the contrary, should the 
 Justicia accede to their wishes, they 
 would only have anticipated by a few 
 hours the execution of his orders. 
 They were little aware of the tremen- 
 dous and overwhelming force of po- 
 pular feeling when excited by tyranny, 
 
 VOL. I. c
 
 26 VARGAS. 
 
 irritated by aggravation, and raised to 
 its highest pitch by an open and vio- 
 lent infraction of the dearest safeguard 
 to the liberties of the people. 
 
 The plan was executed by the al- 
 guazils with the greatest despatch and 
 success. The jailer of the Manifes- 
 tados, either frightened at the exten- 
 sive power of the Inquisition, or per- 
 haps prepared by its bribes, appeared 
 not to doubt the truth of the state- 
 ment made by the alguazils, and im- 
 mediately delivered up to them his 
 prisoner, whom, with their best speed, 
 they conveyed through the gates of 
 the city to the Aljaferia, where the 
 anxious Inquisitors were waiting to 
 hear the success of their scheme. As 
 Perez passed through the low massive 
 Moorish portal of that ancient palace 
 of the infidel monarchs — when he 
 heard its gates close upon him, and
 
 VARGAS. 27 
 
 he felt himself in the power of the In- 
 quisition, before whose secret tribunal 
 any trial which he might undergo 
 would, he knew, be but a mock form, 
 he feit that there was no more hope 
 for him even though he trod the ground 
 of Aragon. He reflected upon the 
 tortures he had undergone at Madrid, 
 and anticipated with horror the too 
 great probability of their repetition 
 here 5 for although it is a funda- 
 mental law in Aragon that the torture 
 shall not be inflicted within its fa- 
 voured limits, yet in the dark dun- 
 geons of the Inquisition, never lighted 
 by the bright sun of that happy coun- 
 try, it was in vain to hope that its 
 laws would be respected. 
 
 Antonio Perez was that unfortunate 
 
 minister who had been exposed for 
 
 ten years to all the persecution which 
 
 the envy and malice of his enemies 
 
 C2
 
 28 VARGAS. 
 
 could suggest, ibstered by all the en- 
 couragement which disappointed ri- 
 valship and the humiHation of con- 
 scious guilt could prompt his royal 
 master to afford them. When, at last, 
 the promise of the king had proved 
 false, and his sacred justice and honour 
 had both been violated, to stretch the 
 limbs of his victim upon the rack, Pe- 
 rez effected his escape from the prison 
 into which he had been thrown, and 
 hastened to Aragon, there to claim 
 the right of manifestacion, and to lay 
 his cause before his countrymen for 
 judgment. 
 
 The nature of the prison of the 
 Manifestacion, meant for such persons 
 only as threw themselves into it to 
 escape the violence or injustice which 
 they dreaded in more secret or more 
 tyrannical prisons, precluded the pos- 
 sibility of rigour, or any thing more
 
 VARGAS. 29 
 
 than a suflicient restraint of personal 
 liberty. Manifestados of any conse- 
 quence were well lodged and treated, 
 and their friends in all cases had un- 
 restrained access to them. The pub- 
 licity and popularity of Perez's cause 
 rendered it a point of emulation 
 amongst the inhabitants of Zaragoza 
 to pay him attention in his imprison- 
 ment. Persons of all ranks crowded 
 to visit him, to testify their sense 
 of his injuries and their wishes for his 
 welfare. 
 
 Amongst others was one who had 
 made frequent visits to Perez in prison, 
 had seen him much alone, and had 
 entered into all the interest of his 
 situation. He went by the name of 
 Bartolome Agreda ; a solitary and 
 melancholy man, totally unknown in 
 Zaragoza, at which place he had but 
 lately arrived, but giving himself out
 
 30 VARGAS. 
 
 as an Aragonese by birth, who had 
 passed the greater part of his life in 
 the other kingdoms of the Spanish 
 monarchy, and was now returned to 
 his native city. This short account 
 of himself was all that could be ex- 
 tracted from him by the curiosity of 
 an old lady in whose house he had re- 
 sided since his arrival at Zaragoza, 
 and who had exhausted all the supposi- 
 tions of her imagination without fall- 
 ing upon one tale that was more likely 
 to be true than another. He was 
 uniformly silent unless when spoken 
 to, and then he answered the most ne- 
 cessary questions by monosyllables, 
 leaving all others unnoticed, except 
 by a look of melancholy and fierce- 
 ness combined, which had the effect 
 of repressing all impertinent or unne- 
 cessary conversation. No one knew how 
 the greater part of his time was spent,
 
 VARGAS. 31 
 
 for he was generally abroad ; but for 
 that portion of it during which he re- 
 mained in the house where he had taken 
 up his abode, he was either occupied in 
 reading some books which he had 
 brought with him, and which were in 
 a language unknown to his landlady, 
 or else he remained fixed in one un- 
 altered position, as if wrapt in the con- 
 templation of his own thoughts ; and 
 they always appeared to be of a pain- 
 ful nature from the stern and suffer- 
 ing expression of his countenance. 
 
 It will not be considered extraor- 
 dinary, that so singular and unsocial a 
 being should be looked upon with 
 something more than curiosity by the 
 gossips of Zaragoza in 1590. There 
 was hardly a crime which Seiiora En- 
 gracia and her select tertuUa had not 
 supposed her poor lodger to have com- 
 mitted, as the total want of data upon
 
 32 VARGAS. 
 
 which to form any judgment left to 
 their imaginations the choice of any 
 of the sins that ever were anathema- 
 tized by a pope; there was no mis- 
 fortune, however melancholy and ro- 
 mantic, which these worthy descendants 
 of Eve had not conjectured might 
 have befallen him^ whenever a gleam 
 of the better feelings of our nature 
 induced them to look upon him as an 
 innocent or an injured man. Of the 
 various possibilities that had been 
 started respecting the stranger, each 
 individual of the society of Se- 
 fiora Engracia gave credence to the 
 one which pleased her best ; but 
 they almost all agreed in one point, 
 that he certainly must hold corre- 
 spondence with beings of another 
 world ; whether with the fairer or 
 fouler order of spirits they had it not 
 in their power to determine ; for all
 
 VARGAS. 3^ 
 
 they knew of him was negative, and 
 they could neither accuse him of any 
 thing which would authorize their 
 looking upon him as a member of the 
 lower worlds nor could his conduct 
 give them reason to suppose that he 
 was connected with the higher. 
 
 His person was of a nature to add 
 considerably to the awe which his 
 manners inspired. He was tall, and 
 though thin, his form had the appear- 
 ance of uncommon strength; in walk- 
 ing, his long stride and firm step im- 
 pressed those who looked upon him 
 with an idea of power and activity ; 
 his features would have been remark- 
 ably handsome, but that there was an 
 expression of earnestness and almost 
 wildness in his look arising from his 
 eyelids being frequently on the full 
 stretch; and the habitually descend- 
 ing curve of his lip showed at once 
 c 5
 
 34 VARGAS. 
 
 that it was unused to the smiles which 
 might unbend it. Upon the whole, 
 there was enough of beauty in his 
 countenance to command admiration, 
 and an expression of restless uneasi- 
 ness, and of melancholy, that could 
 hardlyfail of exciting interest and pity. 
 Since the arrival of Antonio Perez 
 at Zaragoza, a considerable alteration 
 had been discovered in Agreda. In- 
 stead of remaining perfectly silent 
 during the time of meals, and appear- 
 ing not to hear a word that was 
 spoken, he listened attentively to all 
 that was said upon the subject of the 
 imprisonment, which occupied the 
 tongue and thoughts of every being 
 in the whole city. He asked ques- 
 tions concerning the affair, though 
 without giving his opinion upon it; 
 which, however, was sufficiently easy 
 to be discovered from his conduct. —
 
 VARGAS. 35 
 
 He visited Perez frequently, and 
 formed a close intimacy with him ; the 
 inference, therefore, was, that he com- 
 pletely coincided in the general opi- 
 nion of his fellow-citizens, and that he 
 participated in the feelings which that 
 opinion excited. 
 
 Either Agreda had some secret rea- 
 son for keeping himself private, or he 
 disliked the bustle that the inter- 
 course of business produced in the 
 streets, and which was much increased 
 by the agitation of the public mind at 
 this moment. His usual hour of visit- 
 ing Perez was about the siesta time, 
 when he might pace the deserted 
 streets unobserved. On the day on 
 which his friend had been kidnapped 
 from the prison of the Manifestacion, 
 he went to pay his accustomed visit at 
 about one o'clock. He inquired at 
 the door for Seiior Antonio Perez.
 
 36 VARGAS. 
 
 " He is not here," said the jailer. 
 
 " Where is he then ?" asked Agreda. 
 
 " At the Aljaferia, Seiior." 
 
 " The Aljaferia ! — The Inquisition 1 
 impossible 1 Is he not a Manifestado ?" 
 
 '' He was, Sefior," said the jailer, 
 " but he is now delivered over to the 
 Holy Tribunal by order of the Jus- 
 ticia." 
 
 " Wretch !" exclaimed Agreda, "you 
 shall answer to the Justicia for such a 
 slander on his sacred title. Treachery ! 
 treachery I Aragon is betrayed !" and 
 with these words he passed along to- 
 wards the palace of the Deputation. 
 
 The Justicia of Aragon, upon the de- 
 mand of the officers of the Inquisition, 
 had immediately summoned one of his 
 Lugartenientes, the first that he could 
 find, and repaired with him to the 
 consistory in the palace of the Depu- 
 tation. They were there anxiously
 
 VARGAS. 37 
 
 discussing the important subject of 
 this demand, when Agreda suddenly 
 entered the room. The Court of the 
 Manifestacion was open to all the 
 world ; and Agreda had pushed by 
 the alguazil who attended at the door, 
 and now stood unannounced in the 
 presence of the Justicia and hisLugar- 
 teniente. Their surprise at his abrupt 
 appearance prevented them from 
 speaking at first ; and before they 
 had sufficiently recovered themselves 
 to ask what he wanted, he stepped for- 
 ward to the table, and placing his 
 hand upon it, demanded in a firm tone 
 whether it was by order of the Justicia 
 that Antonio Perez had been deli- 
 vered over to the officers of the Inqui- 
 sition. 
 
 " Has been delivered over !" re- 
 peated the Justicia ; " is he not, then, 
 in the prison of the Manifestacion ?"
 
 38 VARGAS. 
 
 " He is not," said Agreda, '^ and I 
 demand of you, Senor Justicia, the rta- 
 son why he is not there ? — Why an 
 Aragonese has been robbed of hisbirth- 
 right? why the sacred prison of the Ma- 
 nifestacion has been violated to throw 
 a victim into the hope-forsaken dun- 
 geons of the sacrilegious Inquisition?" 
 
 The boldness of this speech, and 
 the vehemence with which it was de- 
 livered, recalled the Justicia to a sense 
 of the dignity of his high office; and he 
 asked who he was that dared to hold 
 such language to the chief magistrate 
 of the kingdom of Aragon. 
 
 " I am an Aragonese," exclaimed 
 Agreda, " and my words are the 
 words of all Aragon \ they proclaim 
 the injury that it has sustained, and call 
 aloud for the defence of its rights, and 
 the punishment of those who have in- 
 fringed them."
 
 VARGAS. 39 
 
 The Justicia replied, that the care 
 of the rights of the people of Aragon 
 was delegated to him, and that he 
 should do his duty in defending them. 
 He ordered the intruder, however, to 
 retire, and leave them to deliberate 
 on the proper line of conduct to 
 pursue. 
 
 " Deliberate!" echoed Agreda;'' can 
 deliberation be necessary ? The victim 
 must be rescued from the chains that 
 are thrown upon him, before they are 
 too strongly riveted to be broken — 
 Serior Justicia, the people have placed 
 a sword in your hand, which it is 
 your duty to wield — — " 
 
 Here the Justicia grew impatient, 
 and loudly called to the alguazil to re- 
 move this troublesome person. 
 
 " Then the people will wield that 
 sword themselves," he added, " and
 
 40 VARGAS. 
 
 woe be to the head upon whicli it 
 falls ;" and he rushed out of the hall. 
 
 The rapidity with which an event 
 of great public interest is commu- 
 nicated to ev^ery individual of a large 
 population sometimes appears more 
 like the effect of enchantment than of 
 the human agency of words. The 
 fears of the jailer who had delivered 
 up Perez, induced him to confer upon 
 the subject with the first persons he 
 saw. The astonishment of these 
 at such an infringement of their rights, 
 only found its vent in communica- 
 tion. Families were disturbed in the 
 peaceful siesta time to receive the in- 
 telligence. At first it travelled only 
 from acquaintance to acquaintance, 
 till, falling into the hands of more zea- 
 lous patriots, it flew from house to 
 house ; every one being anxious to
 
 VARGAS. 41 
 
 disperse the information that the Ma- 
 nifestacion had been violated ! that 
 Antonio Perez was in the prisons of 
 the Inquisition I 
 
 When Agreda left the palace, and 
 entered the square in which it is situ- 
 ated, he found the stillness that had 
 reigned there when he passed through 
 it a few moments before, now broken 
 by the footsteps of several persons 
 hurrying to and fro, and the humming 
 conversation of small groups which 
 were collecting in different parts. 
 He could be at no loss to account 
 for this extraordinary alteration of the 
 accustomed quiet of the hour. If 
 he doubted its cause for a mo- 
 ment, it was soon placed beyond 
 all uncertainty in his mind, by a 
 stranger, who, hardly slackening his 
 agitated pace as he spoke, said to him, 
 " Friend, have you heard the news ?
 
 42 VARGAS. 
 
 Antonio Perez is in the Inquisition!" 
 and, without waiting for a reply, 
 passed on. 
 
 The groups were continually in- 
 creasing in sizCj and Agreda joined 
 one, that consisted of a consider- 
 able body of people. He addressed 
 them in a commanding tone, which 
 drew the attention of the whole upon 
 him. 
 
 After stating in a few words, but in 
 an impassioned and impressive man- 
 ner, that the birth-right of an Ara- 
 gonese had been infringed ; that the 
 Manifestacion was no longer inviolate; 
 that Antonio Perez had been dragged 
 to that palace of wretchedness, the In- 
 quisition ; he continued, " Do you 
 not know where lurks the poison that 
 destroys the health of this free state ? 
 Have we not a veiled viceroy, who, 
 like a coward, dares not use his power
 
 VARGAS. 43 
 
 in the light of day, but puts his foot 
 upon us in the dark V 
 
 " The Marquis of Almenara," said 
 a man near him, ^* I saw him go into 
 the Inquisition this morning ; this is 
 his work — death to the traitor!'* 
 
 All who were around him caught 
 the enthusiasm, and with one simul- 
 taneous shout they echoed him— 
 *• Death to the traitor!'* 
 
 This shout rang through the Plaza ; 
 its effect was electrical; it not only 
 collected into one body all the various 
 groups that were talking together in 
 the different corners, but as far as it 
 was heard along the many streets 
 that opened into the square, it set 
 every being in motion, and was a guid- 
 ing signal to the spot from whence it 
 proceeded. 
 
 It was not long before the Plaza 
 was crowded to excess, and although
 
 44 VARGAS. 
 
 in the confusion of sounds arising from 
 the expression of resentment by so 
 many voices, nothing could be ga- 
 thered of their intentions as a united 
 body, yet the hum of their talk was 
 an awful and portentous warning of 
 the storm that was about to burst. 
 
 Some one in the middle of the 
 crowd said, " To the house of the 
 Marquis of Almenara !" It was im- 
 possible that this exclamation could 
 have been intelligible many yards from 
 the spot where it was uttered, yet the 
 idea communicated itself to the crowd, 
 as if by magic ; and almost at the 
 same moment the whole body was in 
 motion, rolling towards the house of 
 the ill-fated nobleman. 
 
 When the Conde de Sastago, the 
 former viceroy of Aragon, had soli- 
 cited the permission of the King to re- 
 tire from his office, it was the in ten-
 
 VARGAS. 45 
 
 tion of Philip II to have placed one 
 of his own courtiers in the vacant 
 vicerojalty. The laws of Aragon, 
 however, expressly declare that the 
 ministerial offices of the kingdom shall 
 be held by none but Aragonese born ; 
 and this was one of the privileges of 
 which the people were most tenacious. 
 The crafty Philip maintained his right 
 of nominating a foreigner if he pleased, 
 upon the very law which was intended 
 to forbid it, and which declares that 
 there should be no ministers of the 
 crown in Aragon, who had not been 
 born in it. The ministers of the crown 
 are called, in this law, royal officers 
 (oficiaks reales) ; and theking declared, 
 that as the viceroy was the representa- 
 tive of royalty itself, he could not be 
 considered as one of its officers. He 
 however consented to have this point 
 decided by the proper Court in Zara-
 
 46 VARGAS. 
 
 goza ; and, that he might not appear 
 to throw all the royal influence into 
 the scale, he promised that his cause 
 should be carried on by a simple indi- 
 vidual, not possessed of any regal 
 authority. The individual he chose 
 for his purpose was the Marquis of 
 Almenara, who accordingly repaired 
 to Zaragoza. 
 
 Although the Marquis appeared 
 there in no public character, he entered 
 the city with a royal retinue and great 
 splendour. He gave feasts, to which all 
 the public functionaries were invited ; 
 but the unpopularity of the mission 
 with which he was charged was con- 
 siderably increased by the suspicions 
 which this conduct excited of his in- 
 tention to corrupt their national au- 
 thorities. It became at last to be 
 regarded as disgraceful to visit 
 him J and those who were not re- 
 3
 
 VARGAS. 47 
 
 strained by their own opinions, were 
 prevented from so doing by the fear 
 of sharing the public odium which 
 was attached to all who held inter- 
 course with him. In the mean time 
 the Marquis was not deterred from exe- 
 cuting the private orders which he had 
 received from the King : it is true that 
 a new viceroy was nominated pro tern- 
 poi^e, but the Bishop of Teruel, who 
 filled the office, w^as a mere tool in the 
 hands of the Marquis, by whom every 
 part of the government that emanated 
 from the King was secretly directed. 
 
 As the expression of the public ab- 
 horrence towards the Marquis of Al- 
 menara had been open and general, 
 he had long taken the precaution to 
 keep his house in such a state of pre- 
 paration as would resist any sudden 
 burst of the popular feeling. The 
 style of building of the better sort of
 
 48 VARGAS. 
 
 houses in Spain, renders them impreg- 
 nable to any sudden attack; every 
 house has double doors, both of which 
 are of massive thickness, and are fre- 
 quently studded with iron ; and the 
 lower windows of all the houses are 
 uniformly guarded with strong iron 
 bars. The Marquis, therefore, had 
 little to add to the security of his pa- 
 lace ; but his servants, who were nu- 
 merous, were all armed and equipped 
 for defence. Hence the torrent that 
 was rapidly reaching his house, and 
 which, nevertheless, had more rapid pre- 
 cursors to announce it, gave him no 
 uneasiness as to his personal safety. 
 
 When the crowd of people who 
 had tumultuously hurried each other 
 along arrived before the Marquis's 
 palace, they compressed themselves 
 into a closer body, which, fitting 
 itself to every angle and curve of
 
 VARGAS. 49 
 
 the surrounding buildings, seemed 
 to be wedged into the spot that con- 
 tained it. The tumult ceased for a 
 moment; the people had acted upon 
 no plan ; had no defined object to 
 combine their operations ; they had 
 been forced along by the impulse of 
 their resentment, and drawn towards 
 one point of attack by the universal 
 feeling that their wrongs sprang from 
 the Marquis of Almenara — that the 
 evil lay with him. Thus far, there- 
 fore, every voice had been raised to 
 denounce vengeance upon his devoted 
 head ; but now that they had reached 
 the habitation of their enemy, what 
 was that vengeance to be ? and how 
 was it to be executed ? 
 
 These were questions which oc- 
 curred at once to the mind of every 
 one the moment that the crowd ceased 
 to be in motion ; and each seemed to 
 
 VOL. I. D
 
 ,50 VARGAS. 
 
 demand an answer to this unexpressed 
 interrogation, by the look with which 
 he regarded those who were nearest 
 to him. There was a pause of com- 
 parative stillness for nearly a minute, 
 which, as it followed tlie tumultuary 
 shout of the mob when approaching, 
 might have seemed like the silence 
 which the hand of death imposes upon 
 some wretch in the midst of insup- 
 portable agonies ; but, as it preceded 
 the sudden burst of " Liberty for 
 EVER !" from thousands of voices at 
 one instant, it miglit rather resemble 
 the momentary delay of the execu- 
 tioner when, after the signal, he swings 
 the fatal axe to concentrate his 
 strength for the blow. 
 
 Much tumult and violence of ex- 
 pression followed this general shout ; 
 and these were infinitely increased by 
 the appearance of the armed servants
 
 VARGAS. 51 
 
 at the windows, threatening at inter- 
 vals to fire upon the mob. This threat 
 excited the irritation of the people 
 almost to madness. The effect which 
 it produced, however, seemed for a 
 time to be the very reverse of that 
 which might have been expected. The 
 mob appeared to be dispersing; it 
 was certainly less numerous than at 
 first ; the street was no longer cram- 
 med so as to prevent the possibility of 
 motion ; it now displayed an undu- 
 lating surface of heads in continual 
 agitation. 
 
 The cause of this apparent disper- 
 sion was soon made manifest. The 
 people had assembled at first from 
 astonishment or from curiosity ; as 
 these passions were changed into re- 
 sentment, they had followed its first 
 impulse, and had been borne along by 
 its influence ; they had made no pre- 
 P2 
 
 wnvt!^s^"r^ Of
 
 52 VARGAS. 
 
 paration for acting in any way, and 
 were consequently unarmed ; the 
 threat of the servants of the Marquis, 
 and the sight of their long muskets, 
 recalled them to a sense of their own 
 inability to act either on the defensive 
 or offensive, and a great part of the 
 crowd separated for the purpose of 
 procuring what arms they could lay 
 their hands on. 
 
 An individual, whose name was 
 Gasper Burces, finding that they were 
 not likely to get into the Marquis's 
 house by open violence, resolved to 
 liave recourse to a stratagem, the most 
 likely to succeed that could have been 
 imagined. He ran to the Deputation, 
 and met at the door one of the lu- 
 gartenientes, Don Juan Gaco. Stop- 
 ping him, he demanded instantly a 
 mariifestacion, to secure from violence 
 the person of a pretended brother of
 
 VARGAS. 53 
 
 his, whom he represented to be con- 
 fined in the house of the Marquis of 
 Ahiienara. No pretence whatever can 
 authorise the Justicia or any of his 
 lugartenientes to refuse to manifest 
 any one who may require it. Don 
 Juan Gaco, therefore, gave a mani- 
 festacion, and Burces repaired to the 
 Marquis of Almenara's, accompanied 
 by a certain number of the alguazils. 
 
 Upon their arrival they demanded 
 admittance in the name of the Jus- 
 ticia ; but even this powerful name 
 had no effect upon the servants of the 
 Marquis, who repeated the threat that 
 they would fire upon them if they at- 
 tempted to enter. After vain endea- 
 vours to succeed, the alguazils retired, 
 leaving the populace in a state of fury 
 from this aggravated insult to the 
 people themselves, and to their high 
 representative. Shouts of " Death
 
 54 VARGAS. 
 
 to the traito?^ /" " Antonio Perez for 
 e'ver r '' Liberty for ever l^^ " //e has 
 resisted the Justicia — He has broken 
 the mamfestacionr — and new charges 
 of different crimes, or different forms 
 of the old ones, filled the air on all 
 sides. 
 
 When the alguazils reported the re- 
 sistance they had met with in the exe- 
 cution of their duty, and the clamour- 
 ous state of the mob before the door 
 of the Marquis of Almenara, the Jus- 
 ticia determined to proceed thither in 
 person. A number of the noblemen 
 and heads of the principal families o^ 
 Zaragoza had assembled together at 
 the palace of the Deputation, and of- 
 fered to accompany him ; this he re- 
 fused, saying, that he was too much 
 accustomed to be seen and to be re- 
 spected by the people of Zaragoza to 
 doubt for a moment not only that his
 
 VARGAS. 55 
 
 person would be secure, but that the 
 dignity of his office would enable him 
 to quiet the disturbance which had 
 been excited. Taking, therefore,with 
 him only two lugartenientes, and his 
 two sons, Don Juan and Don Pedro 
 de la Nuza, and preceded by some al- 
 guazils, he appeared in the midst of 
 the tumult. 
 
 The great public importance of the 
 office of Chief Magistrate of Aragon, 
 and the excellent private criaracter of 
 Don Juan de la Nuza, who then filled 
 it, procured him the greatest respect 
 and deference wherever he appeared. 
 In the present instance the people 
 made way for him, breaking a free 
 passage to the door of the house. As 
 the chasm that was thus formed for 
 him was filled up by the rushing mul- 
 titude when he had passed, they re- 
 doubled their shouts and patriotic
 
 56 VARGAS. 
 
 cries. Some bold patriots, seizing hold 
 of the sons of the Justicia as they went 
 along, insisted upon their crying out, 
 " Viva /hitonio Perez I'* " Viva la 
 Ubertad!'' to which they readily con- 
 sented. Contrary to the expectation 
 of every one, the Justicia was admit- 
 ted into the house of the Marquis, but 
 with such caution, and the outer door 
 was reclosed with such rapidity, that 
 before the semicircle maintained by 
 the alguazils round the Justicia and 
 his companions while demanding ad- 
 mission could be broken, the bolts 
 were drawn and the bars were replaced, 
 rendering the entrance as difficult as 
 before. 
 
 While the clamours of the people 
 and their fury continue to increase on 
 the outside of the house, the reader 
 shall have the privilege of accompany- 
 ing the Justicia and his companions to
 
 VARGAS. 57 
 
 the closet of the Marquis, into which 
 they were immediately introduced. 
 
 Don Inigo de Mendoza, Marquis of 
 Almenara, was a man of haughty de- 
 meanour, and of excessive pride. He 
 would have died rather than sub- 
 mit himself in the slightest degree 
 to the will of the people, when such 
 submission would have borne the ap- 
 pearance of yielding to force. To a 
 courage which would not disgrace the 
 descendant from a long line of glo- 
 rious ancestors, he added a punctilious 
 jealousy of the respect due to his rank, 
 and an overbearing exaction of it 
 from all who approached him. In the 
 midst of the storm which was raging 
 around him, when the thunderbolt 
 was already directed towards him, he 
 was sitting, apparently unconcerned, 
 in his closet; but there was an ex- 
 pression of the lip, and a lowering of 
 D 5
 
 58 VARGAS. 
 
 the eye, that might convey some Idea 
 of the contempt which he entertained 
 for the mob \vhich had beset his 
 house, and his deep resentment at the 
 affront which had been put upon the 
 dignity of his rank, by the demands of 
 the rabble. He stepped forward to 
 receive the Justicia, and coldly asked 
 him, to what he might attribute the 
 honour of his visit, as he could not 
 suppose it was to enforce the mani- 
 festacion of a person who did not exist. 
 
 *' No, my Lord Marquis," replied 
 the Justicia, " that tale has, I believe, 
 been founded upon a false statement. 
 It is to endeavour to restore peace to 
 this distracted people, and to provide 
 for your safety, my Lord, that I am 
 come/' 
 
 " My safety, Senor Justicia, is suf- 
 ficiently provided for by my rank, and 
 by the dignity and honour of my name 
 3
 
 VARGAS. 59 
 
 and ancestors j the conduct of their 
 representative will be found to main- 
 tain this in every circumstance in 
 wliich it may be placed." 
 
 " I doubt it not, my Lord, but in 
 the midst of a popular tumult, all 
 proper respect to rank is swallowed 
 up by the overwhelming impulse of 
 the moment. The Aragonese are a 
 free people, and have long been in the 
 habit of expressing their opinions of 
 their rulers. They concei\e them- 
 selves injured ; whether they have rea- 
 son for that opinion, this is not the 
 moment to determine ; but while that 
 impression is upon them, they are not 
 to be taunted with impunity. The 
 royal lion himself were too bold did 
 he attempt to withstand the raging 
 course of a torrent which had burst its 
 bounds." 
 
 " When a torrent bursts its bounds,"
 
 Co VARGAS. 
 
 said the Marquis, " they are to blame 
 who did not carefully restrain its 
 power by proper barriers." 
 
 " My Lord, I will not now seek 
 cause for more strife, by diving to 
 the bottom of the meaning of your 
 words — " 
 
 They were here interrupted by the 
 entrance of the other three lugarte- 
 nientes who composed the court of 
 the Justicia, and who, finding upon 
 their arrival at the Deputation, where 
 they had been summoned to a coun- 
 cil, that the Justicia had repaired to 
 the house of the Marquis of Almenara, 
 had followed him thither. Not being 
 able to penetrate the crowd in front 
 of the palace, they had had recourse 
 to a small private door which led into 
 a garden at the back of it, and through 
 this they had gained admittance. 
 
 The account which they gave of the
 
 VARGAS. 61 
 
 increased fury of the mob was of a 
 nature very much to alarm the Jus- 
 ticia, and would have raised the fears 
 of any other man than the Marquis of 
 Almenara. The people, to whom 
 every moment appeared an hour, were 
 exasperated at the protracted stay of 
 the Justicia within the house, when 
 they expected that he would instantly 
 have reappeared with the Marquis as 
 a prisoner. Their frenzy knew no 
 bounds when they found that this was 
 delayed, and at length they had come 
 to the determination to burn down 
 the door, and set fire to the inside of 
 the house, its stone front preventing 
 the possibility of their doing this from 
 without ; in furtherance of their pur- 
 pose they were actually collecting 
 piles of wood, quantities of straw, and 
 other combustible materials. 
 
 This intelligence seemed not at all
 
 62 VARGAS. 
 
 to disturb the Marquis, who delibe- 
 rately called to a servant in waiting, 
 and when he had entered calmly said — 
 " If any attempt should be made to 
 set fire to the door of my house, let 
 every man in it discharge his musket 
 at the same moment upon those who 
 make the attempt, and be instantly 
 ready to discharge it again whenever 
 1 may give orders." 
 
 " Heaven forbid !" ejaculated the 
 Justicia, as he turned to ask counsel 
 of his companions. After a few mo- 
 ments' conversation together, they ad- 
 dressed the Marquis, and conjured 
 him to consider the imminent peril in 
 which he stood, and to leave the 
 house privately by the back door, 
 from whence, before his flight could 
 be discovered, he might be a consi- 
 derable way on the road to Fuentes 
 de Ebro.
 
 VARGAS. 63 
 
 The Marquis looked at them with 
 great scorn, and replied that he was 
 descended from a line of heroes, of 
 whom not one had turned his back 
 upon danger : if his life were in peril, 
 his honour was more so^ and in dying 
 he would leave the fame of his family 
 as unspotted as he had received it. 
 
 " Senor Marquis," said the Justicia, 
 " I have had the glory of serving with 
 a hero, to imitate whose example can 
 never reflect dishonour. I myself 
 held the bridle of a horse at the pri- 
 vate door of the palace of the immor- 
 tal emperor, our late sovereign, when 
 in the city of Ghent he was placed in 
 danger by a less infuriated mob than 
 that which calls for your life." 
 
 " In that I have less fear than 
 Charles, I shall have more glory," said 
 Almenara coolly, and turning from
 
 64 VARGAS. 
 
 them, he called to his servant to bnng 
 him his breastplate and casque. 
 
 While he was adjusting his armour, 
 violent blows were heard at the outer 
 door of the house, which were inces- 
 santly repeated for some time. The 
 Marquis was leaving the room to give 
 his orders, when the Justicia detained 
 him. 
 
 " Since, my Lord, you are deter- 
 mined to rush upon the destruction 
 that awaits you, your refusal to fly 
 from this house allows me but one 
 alternative. I must convey you under 
 the protection of my office to the 
 prison of the Manifestacion, where, 
 until this storm be blown over, you 
 will be safe." 
 
 '* I will not submit to be a prisoner, 
 except upon just grounds and by pro- 
 per authority/* said the Marquis.
 
 VARGAS. 65 
 
 " The command of the Justicia," 
 said one of the lugartenientes, *' is 
 proper authority, Senor Marquis, and 
 be assured that when protected by 
 that authority, and conducted by him, 
 you need not fear the insolence of the 
 people/' 
 
 The Marquis drew himself up as he 
 replied — " I am a Mendoza, sir, and 
 cannot fear." 
 
 " Infatuated man,*' said the Justicia, 
 " we must save him, if possible, in 
 spite of himself Don Ihigo de Men- 
 doza, by virtue of the authority of my 
 office, I arrest you : you are my pri- 
 soner : I will answer for my conduct 
 with my head, if necessary, to our so- 
 vereign Lord Don Philip. Friends," 
 continued he^ addressing his lugarte- 
 nientes, " we will ourselves act the 
 part of alguazils, and endeavour to
 
 fi6 VARGAS. 
 
 conduct him in safety to the prison of 
 the Manifestacion." 
 
 The Marquis was about to reply, 
 when several servants ran precipi- 
 tately into the apartment, bringing 
 the intelligence that the mob had suc- 
 ceeded in breaking down the outer 
 door, and as there remained only the 
 inner one, which was less strong, they 
 might burst it in a moment. 
 
 " Then, villains," exclaimed the 
 Marquis, '' be you there to protect 
 it ; and above all, dare not, on your 
 lives, again insult me by thus inso- 
 lently approaching me." 
 
 The noise of the blows which the 
 mob now applied to the inner door, 
 and which shook the very floor on 
 which they were standing, roused the 
 Justicia into the necessity of imme- 
 diate decision. He seized the Mar-
 
 VARGAS, 67 
 
 quis by the right arm, while Don 
 Juan Toralba took hold of the left, 
 and before he could offer any resist- 
 ance, they were hurrying him down 
 the staircase. They arrived at the 
 bottom of it at the instant that the 
 folding doors of the patio * gave wa}^ 
 to the blows, the noise of which had 
 resounded upon their ears as they 
 were descending. In an instant the 
 patio w^as overwhelmed by the torrent 
 which had broken down its dam, while 
 the walls echoed with the triumphant 
 shouts of the multitude. With the 
 greatest difficulty, and by reascending 
 a few steps, the party resisted the 
 force of the people. Don Martin de 
 la Nuza, one of the lugartenientes, 
 placed himself before the Marquis, 
 and Don Gerardo Claveria behind 
 
 * A large open court ia the centre of the 
 house.
 
 68 , VARGAS. 
 
 him ; and the whole, surrounded by 
 the servants, attempted to move for- 
 ward through the crowd, repeatedly 
 crying out — " Room for the Justicia 
 of Aragon — the Marquis of Ahnenara 
 is his prisoner." 
 
 The press at the door was so great, 
 that it was only by using the butts of 
 the muskets which the servants car- 
 ried that their passage could be effect- 
 ed. This plan succeeded in placing 
 them in the street^ but it was fatal to 
 them the moment they got there. 
 The unbridled mob, many of them 
 smarting from the blows they had re- 
 ceived, tore the muskets from the 
 hands of the servants, whom they 
 dragged along in different directions. 
 The lugartenientes, Martin de la Nuza 
 and Claveria, were as little respected 
 as the servants, and shared the same 
 fate, so that in a very few minutes
 
 VARGAS. 69 
 
 after getting through the door of the 
 house, the Marquis was left in the 
 middle of the mob;, supported only on 
 the right and left by the Justicia and 
 the lu^arteniente Torralba. 
 
 The act of separating the ser- 
 vants from their master occasioned 
 an opening in the crowd, which, 
 though it was filled up as rapidly as 
 the waves rush into the wake of a 
 vessel, rendered it, for an instant, less 
 difficult to pierce through than to 
 stem the tide where its force is un- 
 broken. The Justicia pressed for- 
 ward through the momentary chasm, 
 and as all who were behind followed 
 him, those who were before took the 
 sam.e direction. Thus they passed 
 rapidly along the street, but not 
 through the crowd, of which they 
 were the centre, and which moved 
 with them in one united body.
 
 70 VARGAS. 
 
 The crowd having thus acquired its 
 impetus, it was impossible to resist it, 
 and they were hurried along with a 
 velocity which, as it prevented the 
 dignity of motion which his boiling 
 but suppressed rage demanded, an- 
 noyed the Marquis much more than 
 the blows which were continually le- 
 velled at him, or the revilings which 
 pealed in his ears from all sides. 
 Every push from behind which pro- 
 pelled him out of the steady pace 
 which he endeavoured to support, 
 produced a sudden flash of resent- 
 ment from his eyes, which else main- 
 tained an uniform expression of the 
 most sovereign contempt. 
 
 As the velocity of the crowd grew 
 greater, they pushed on with increased 
 force, till as they were pouring from 
 the narrow street into the open Plaza 
 de Albion i the Justicia fell, and the
 
 VARGAS. 71 
 
 mass of people who followed were 
 unable to prevent themselves from 
 passing over his prostrate body. 
 
 No one remained now to support 
 and protect the Marquis but Don Juan 
 Torralba, who, however, still continued 
 to bear him along in spite of the blows 
 which he every now and then re- 
 ceived, and the deafening sound of 
 the people's shouts of abuse and hisses. 
 The fury of the populace took no 
 other means of displaying itself than 
 these until they arrived before the 
 cathedral church of La Seo, where 
 several of the personal friends of An- 
 tonio Perez were collected. Two of 
 these, called Gil de Mesa, and Gil 
 Gonzalez, drew their swords as the 
 crowd approached, and forced their 
 way to the object of the general re- 
 sentment, crying out " Let the traitor 
 die ! — liberty for ever !"
 
 72 VARGAS. 
 
 « Hold ! " vociferated Torralba, 
 throwing himself before the Marquis ; 
 " in the name of the King, and of the 
 Justicia, hold ! — he is our prisoner ! — 
 we are responsible for his life — for his 
 safety ! " 
 
 " So you are for that of Antonio 
 Perez," said those who were around 
 him — " Let the traitor die!" 
 
 " Madmen ! " cried Torralba, en- 
 deavouring to raise his voice above 
 the din, " you are destroying the li- 
 berty you seek to insure." 
 
 Shouts of " Muera el Traidor;' " let 
 the traitor die," was the reply to his 
 remonstrance, and he turned round 
 only in time to support the Marquis, 
 who must otherwise have fallen, as he 
 received a dozen blows from the 
 sw^ords and knives of those who were 
 nearest to him. This consummation of 
 their revenge was announced by a re- 
 
 1
 
 VARGAS. 75 
 
 petition of the general shout of Death 
 to the traitor 1 " The ebulHtion of 
 the frenzy which followed this shout 
 produced a movement of the crowd, 
 by which Torralba, supporting the 
 Marquis, was pushed forward to a 
 considerable distance. When the re- 
 action of another part of this im- 
 mense mass stopped the waving mo- 
 tion which it had acquired, Torralba 
 found himself and his prisoner within 
 a few yards of the gate of the common 
 prison of the city.* Inspired by the 
 sight of a place of safety, he made a 
 strong effort, and succeeded in gain- 
 ing the portal; where, placing the 
 Marquis, now exhausted by loss of 
 blood, fatigue, and the wearing impo- 
 tence of his own rage, upon the 
 ground close to the massive door, he 
 
 * Not the prison of the JVlanifestacion. 
 VOL. I. E
 
 74 VARGAS. 
 
 stood over him, and endeavoured to 
 call the people to a sense of their 
 madness, while he prevented them 
 from approaching by the utmost exer- 
 tion of his strength. Having in the 
 mean time spoken to the municipal 
 jailer through the little square grated 
 hole in the door, he succeeded in pro- 
 curing admittance, which was at length 
 effected, though with the greatest dif- 
 ficulty. 
 
 The gate which enclosed the Mar- 
 quis of Almenara from his pursuers, 
 shut him for ever from the world, 
 from which his haughty spirit depart- 
 ed without giving utterance to the 
 intensity of his feelings. He was laid 
 upon a bed in the jailer's apartment, 
 where he lingered, without speaking, 
 for some days, and then expired.
 
 VARGAS. 75 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Meanwhile they knock'd against the door 
 As fierce as at the gate before. 
 
 HUDIBRAS. 
 
 In giving an account of the circum- 
 stances attending the death of the un- 
 fortunate Marquis of Almenara, I have 
 forborne to distract the attention of 
 the reader by relating the proceedings 
 of another body of the people who, if 
 not so numerous, were at least as tu- 
 multuous as those who assailed the 
 Marquis's house. 
 
 When Agreda found the steady re- 
 sistance which was opposed to the 
 crowd at the Marquis of Almenara's, 
 he anticipated that they would ulti- 
 mately be frustrated, and prevented 
 from obtaining, what he conceived to 
 E 2
 
 76 VARGAS. 
 
 be the only immediate object of their 
 meeting, — an order for the instanta- 
 r.eous liberation of Antonio Perez ; 
 but a match had been put to the train 
 vhich communicated with all that was 
 ardent in the soul of an Aragonese : 
 it blazed forth, and it was in vain to 
 endeavour to smother the flame. 
 
 Agreda conceived that while this de- 
 lay might be allowing the irritated feel- 
 ings of the populace time to grow cool, 
 the moments and the impulse might 
 be more successfully employed in a 
 direct attack upon the prison of the 
 Inquisition, which might frighten the 
 Inquisitors into delivering up their 
 victim; or, if they refused to do this, 
 an attempt might be made to rescue 
 the prisoner by force. With this 
 view he endeavoured to induce the 
 people to enter into his plan, and so 
 far succeeded, that, during the tern-
 
 VARGAS. 77 
 
 porary dispersion of the crowd to ob- 
 tain arms, he was followed by several 
 hundreds, as he led the way to the Al- 
 jaferia, gathering, in his progress, all 
 the stragglers who were returning in 
 that direction to the great rendezvous, 
 and all those who w^ere now first join- 
 ing the popular meeting. Thus re- 
 inforced, this detachment, as it may 
 be called, from the main body, was 
 almost equally formidable if not equally 
 numerous. 
 
 The Aljaferia was a large Gothic for- 
 tress, built for the residence of the 
 Moorish monarchs upon their first es- 
 tablishment at Zaragoza. It had sub- 
 sequently become the palace of the 
 Christian Kings of Aragon, until 
 shortly after the junction of that king- 
 dom with Castille, when it was given 
 to the Inquisition, to be the principal 
 seat of the tribunal in Aragon, by
 
 78 VARGAS. 
 
 Ferdinand, who, by thus surrendering 
 his own palace, hoped to increase the 
 respect of the Aragonese for the Holy 
 Office, which they at first had posi- 
 tively refused to receive amongst 
 them, and which had at length been 
 by no means firmly established by the 
 united force of the royal authority, 
 and the machinations and pretended 
 miracles of the priesthood. It was 
 situated about three hundred yards 
 without the gates of the city, where it 
 frowned in Gothic gloominess, sur- 
 mounted by its many towers. It still 
 bore the ancient character of defence, 
 the loopholes made for the arrows of 
 its original constructors having never 
 been supplanted by embrasures for 
 the cannon of its more modern inha- 
 bitants. 
 
 When the Justicia left the palace of 
 the Deputation to repair to the house
 
 VARGAS. 79 
 
 of the Marquis of Almenara, the Conde 
 de Aranda, and the Conde de Morata, 
 hastened to the Aljaferia. Their ob- 
 ject was to persuade the three Inqui- 
 sitors, that the safety of the Marquis 
 of Almenara required that they should 
 make a voluntary sacrifice, and return 
 their ill-obtained prisoner to the Ma- 
 nifestacion. The Archbishop of Zara- 
 goza, who was first cousin to the 
 Marquis, addressed a letter to the In- 
 quisitors, containing similar advice^ 
 which arrived nearly at the same time 
 that the two Counts w^ere ushered into 
 their presence. In the conference which 
 followed^ the Inquisitors maintained 
 their right to the prisoner, and their de- 
 termination not to give him up ; spoke 
 of the sacrilege of thus outraging the 
 Holy Office, and of the effect of eccle- 
 siastical denunciations ; and ended by 
 hinting the result of the royal dis-
 
 80 VARGAS. 
 
 pleasure which would follow such a 
 course of proceeding as was proposed 
 to them. 
 
 In the mean time the volcano, 
 which had exploded in the Plaza of 
 the Cathedral, was sending forth its 
 torrent of lava through the gates of 
 the city. The feelings of that part of 
 the crowd which had been diverted 
 from its original channel by the per- 
 suasions of Agreda, having been 
 neither heightened by aggravated in- 
 sult, nor abandoned to excess by gra- 
 tification, had scarcely acquired any 
 additional excitement from the cla- 
 mour which they had raised, and 
 which, by drowning his voice, frus- 
 trated the repeated endeavours of 
 Agreda to inspire them into action. 
 But when the triumphant legion came 
 rolling towards them, unsatisfied with 
 the sacrifice of their victim, flushed
 
 VARGAS. 81 
 
 with their victory, and fevered with 
 the consciousness of the bloody im- 
 molation which had ratified it, the 
 contagion was carried in their ap- 
 proaching shout, and the echo that 
 was returned by the expecting crowed 
 at the gate of the Aljaferia breathed 
 the same spirit — flashed the same tire. 
 As the people issued from the city, 
 and were rushing along the road to 
 the Aljaferia, they overtook the car- 
 riage of the Bishop of Teruel, the 
 nominal viceroy. This prelate, ha- 
 bituated to the quiet discharge of his 
 clerical duties, and without capacity 
 for any others, found himself sud- 
 denly in a situation in which he was 
 sensible much would be expected from 
 him, and this very consciousness pro- 
 duced so great a confusion in his brain 
 that he was totally incapable of deci- 
 sion or action. When he was inform- 
 E 5
 
 82 VARGAS. 
 
 ed that the Marquis had been taken 
 out of his house, he began to be 
 alarmed for his own safety, and as a 
 means of securing it, he ordered his 
 carriage and proceeded to the palace 
 of the Inquisition, where he consider- 
 ed that he should be in an impreg- 
 nable fortress, and where also he 
 would have the advantage of the ad- 
 vice, or rather instructions, of the In- 
 quisitors how to proceed. 
 
 The fat, lazy mules, however, which 
 had been accustomed to drag the pon- 
 derous vehicle that contained the 
 representative of the royal person at 
 a much more dignified pace than that 
 which his present alarm would have 
 desired, as they partook not of his 
 fear, proceeded steadily along the road, 
 in spite of the repeated directions of 
 the Bishop to the coachman to go 
 faster, and the coachman's translation
 
 VARGAS. 83 
 
 of these directions into the language 
 in which he usually conversed with 
 his mules. 
 
 The sight of the Viceroy's carriage 
 on its way to the Aljaferia, was the 
 signal for a general shout from the 
 crowd, as it poured from the gates of 
 Zaragoza. The yell went nearer to 
 produce a compliance with the 
 Bishop's directions than the transla- 
 tion of them into the Houyhnhnm 
 language by the coachman ; for the 
 mules taking fright at it, set off at a 
 full gallop, and would have reached 
 the gate of the castle long before the 
 mob could arrive there, had they not 
 been encountered by an answering 
 yell from those before them, which as 
 suddenly put a stop to their flight as 
 its antecessor had produced it. The 
 distracted Bishop, palsied by the cry 
 of the crowd, alarmed at the dange-
 
 84 VARGAS. 
 
 roLis rapidity of tlie moving house 
 which contained him, and Iiurt by the 
 violent concussion produced by its 
 sudden stopping, could not, for some 
 time, collect his scattered senses : 
 after a moment, however, to recover 
 the effects of the blow against the 
 front of the coacli, he managed to 
 descend into the road, where, in the 
 excess of his agitation, he began cry- 
 ing out " Liberty for ever ! — Antonio 
 Perez for ever !" as loudly as his trem- 
 bling voice would permit. The fast- 
 est runners of the mob, forming a 
 kind of straggling advance to the 
 compact body which followed, had by 
 this time surrounded him, and, as if 
 his safety consisted in the pitch cf his 
 voice, he continued his patriotic shouts 
 at the highest scream he could com- 
 mand, adding occasionally — '' I am 
 not come among you as Viceroy ! — I
 
 VARGAS. 85 
 
 am your countryman — I am only the 
 Bishop of Teruel — respect my habit — 
 my sacred office !*' 
 
 Stunned by the cries of the sur- 
 rounding multitude, which thickened 
 every instant, the poor prelate hardly 
 heard the sound of his own voice, and 
 was totally unconscious of what he 
 was saying. He gave utterance to 
 the words prompted by his fears, which 
 were by no means diminished when 
 the crowd actually carried him for- 
 ward with a motion almost as rapid as 
 that which the terrified mules had 
 given to his creaking carriage. They 
 set him down, however, safe from bo- 
 dily harm, at the gate of the old for- 
 tress which this tumultuous army were 
 besieging. When the first burst of 
 clamour had in some degree subsided, 
 Agreda, who was close to the Viceroy,
 
 86 VARGAS. 
 
 with some difficulty made himself 
 heard by his deafened Excellency, and 
 found much more in making himself 
 understood. At length he explained 
 to him that the people who were as- 
 sembled to assert their rights, desired 
 not to obtain them by violence if it 
 could be avoided, but that they were 
 determined to have Antonio Perez re- 
 stored to the Manifestacion, and that 
 if the Inquisitors refused this, they 
 must take the consequences. He de- 
 sired the Bishop to go in and inform 
 them that if they did not deliver up 
 their prisoner in half an hour, the 
 people would wait no longer, but that 
 every beam that was supported by the 
 walls of that palace should be reduced 
 to ashes before sunset ; and with these 
 words, they pushed him through the 
 postern, which, though scarcely large
 
 VARGAS. 87 
 
 enough to admit him, was the only 
 entrance which those within would 
 open to receive him. 
 
 The exhausted Bishop was carried 
 more dead than alive into the presence 
 chamber, where every means were 
 taken to restore him. While he is re- 
 covering himself sufficiently to enable 
 him to report the commission he had 
 received from Agreda, in the name of 
 the people, it may not be irrelevant to 
 make the reader acquainted with the 
 personages into whose presence he 
 was introduced. 
 
 The tribunal of the Inquisition at 
 Zaragoza was under the direction of 
 three grand Inquisitors. As an equa- 
 lity of rank among persons holding the 
 same office can hardly subsist in fact, 
 so it will be found that the nominal 
 and external appearance of it is only 
 supported either by the avowed mas-
 
 88 VARGAS. 
 
 tery of one, or the secret and unac- 
 knowledged command which the supe- 
 riority of mental power produces, — 
 At the time of the imprisonment of 
 Antonio Perez, the three Inquisitors 
 were the licentiate Don Juan de Men- 
 doza, Doctor Antonio Morijon, and 
 the licentiate Alonzo Molina de Me- 
 diano. The last of these three, though 
 a married man, and not in holy orders, 
 had rendered himself General-Inqui- 
 sitor at Zaragoza by the boldness of 
 his opinions, the decision with which 
 he expressed them, the undaunted 
 courage with which he took upon him- 
 self the responsibility of any measure, 
 and the unhesitating choice of the 
 most daring means to accomplish it : 
 these composed a character before 
 which the common minds of his fellow 
 inquisitors shrunk with awe. 
 
 The Conde de Aranda, and the
 
 VARGAS. S9 
 
 Conde de Morata were still in con- 
 ference with these Inquisitors. The 
 first was that unfortunate nobleman, 
 whose subsequent fate was, perhaps, 
 the greatest blot that stained the con- 
 clusion of this fatal insurrection, and 
 the reconsideration of whose conduct 
 at a more dispassioned moment, when 
 years had passed over the heads of his 
 attainted family^ produced a public 
 confession of their disgraceful injustice 
 from the officers of the crown, and a 
 tardy revocation of the sentence which 
 confiscated his estate. He was de- 
 servedly popular in Zaragoza, where 
 the antiquity and high rank of the 
 house of Urrea* made the people look 
 upon him with very great respect; and 
 this attachment to his ancestors was 
 increased to veneration towards him- 
 self, who united in his own person the 
 
 * His name was Don Luis de Urrea.
 
 90 VARGAS. 
 
 representative of this ancient house, 
 and the legitimate descendant of the 
 kings of Aragon, his mother being of 
 the house of the Duke of Segorbe. — 
 Being thus established in the hearts 
 of his countrymen, accidental circum* 
 stances drew forth the warmest ex- 
 pressions of then- affection for him; 
 and his name had lately been 
 made a kind of countersign to all 
 those who disliked the Marquis of Al- 
 menara. The Count was engaged in a 
 civil suit against a second wife of his 
 father, Doiia Juana Henriquez, sister 
 to the Admiral of Castille, which was 
 very much the subject of conversation 
 in Zaragoza ; the general opinion had 
 all along been against her in this suit; 
 but when the Marquis of Almenara 
 was known to befriend her, and take 
 up her cause warmly, the political feel- 
 ing mingled with the private opinion,
 
 VARGAS. 91 
 
 and that which before was disappro- 
 bation became decided hostility. Be- 
 sides this, the rank and family of the 
 Conde seemed to constitute him the 
 champion of the kingdom, and though 
 the Marquis could boast of very an- 
 tient pedigree, yet he could not dis- 
 play such a brilliant genealogy as that 
 formed by the union of the houses of 
 Urrea and Segorbe. This was a cause 
 of unceasing contention and jealousies 
 whenever they met j and the result 
 of this combination of circumstances 
 was, that the Conde de Aranda was 
 the darling of the people, and that 
 too, without having sought popularity, 
 or wishing to place himself at the 
 head of a faction ; even while he 
 felt and expressed the warmest sen- 
 timents of loyalty to Philip, as 
 King of Aragon, sentiments that were 
 in every point consistent with the
 
 92 . VARGAS. 
 
 most jealous regard for the preserva- 
 tion of the chartered rights of the 
 people, which he held to be the undis- 
 puted birthright of every Aragonese. 
 
 When a popular feeling is excited, 
 it admits of no distinctions in its ex- 
 pression — it knows no medium in its 
 display. Those whom the people con- 
 ceive to be their friends they adore ; 
 while all those whom they look upon 
 in the light of enemies are equally 
 hated. The Conde de Morata, the 
 other nobleman whom the Bishop of 
 Teruel found with the Inquisitors, was 
 a quiet sort of person, of whose cha- 
 racter it would be difficult to say 
 much. At the commencement of the 
 agitation at Zaragoza he was neither 
 the friend of the people nor their 
 enemy; when the scales are even a 
 feather will preponderate ; and as soon 
 as the people began to look up to
 
 VARGAS. 9:3 
 
 those who were e:Kalted above them, 
 to see from whom they might expect 
 support, in the equal state of opinion 
 with respect to the Conde de Morata, 
 some political feather was flung into 
 the scale which decided the character 
 of the Count in the people's estimation. 
 His name was soon classed with that 
 of Almenara, a large portion of the 
 odium attached to which he very soon 
 acquired. Some visit to the Marquis 
 after the popular proscription, or 
 some rashly expressed opinion, per- 
 haps in itself of little importance, had 
 produced this effect, which was, in the 
 end, of serious consequence both to 
 the Count and to the people ; for the 
 former, finding his opinions had been 
 decided for him before he had taken 
 the trouble to decide for himself, was 
 contented to remain on the side on 
 which he had been placed, and there- 
 3
 
 94 VARGAS. 
 
 by saved himself from figuring in the 
 melancholy catastrophe of this tra- 
 gedy; while the latter lost by their 
 hasty judgment the countenance and 
 support of a noble family, whose 
 power and fortune were of consider- 
 able consequence in Aragon. 
 
 The Bishop of Teruel being awaken- 
 ed to a conviction of his personal 
 safety, gave utterance to many loud 
 exclamations of thanksgiving for his 
 preservation, and expressed his tho- 
 rough conviction that it was by the 
 miraculous interposition of the holy 
 Lady of the Pillar that he had been 
 rescued. He scarcely gave himself 
 time to breathe after repeating his 
 hurried prayer, and making his more 
 hurried sign of the cross, but imme- 
 diately began the delivery of his mes- 
 sage with all the agitation which arises 
 from the impression left by recent
 
 VARGAS. 95 
 
 danger, when contrasted with present 
 security and the anxiety to prevent a 
 recurrence of the former risk. 
 
 " Seiior Molina — worthy Inquisi- 
 tors — there is but half an hour left for 
 consideration — not half an hour ; but 
 indeed no consideration is necessary. 
 You must give up Antonio Perez di- 
 rectly. There is no alternative, unless 
 you want to see these royal pictures" 
 (pointing to the celebrated portraits 
 of the Counts of Segorbe and the 
 Kings of Aragon which hung round 
 the walls); " unless, I say, you want to 
 see them consumed with unholy fire, 
 and yourselves, gentlemen — yes, your- 
 selves, sacrificed, as, but for the miracu- 
 lous interposition of the Blessed Vir- 
 gin of the Pillar, I, who am her un- 
 worthy Minister, should have been sa- 
 crificed ; and, gentlemen, as the Mar- 
 quis of Almenarahas been sacrificed — "
 
 96 VARGAS. 
 
 " The Marquis of Almenara sacri- 
 ficed !" said all his hearers at once. 
 
 In truth, the worthy prelate's tongue 
 had outrun his intelligence ; he had 
 heard that the Marquis had been 
 taken from his house by the mob; and 
 as he did not imagine that any lay- 
 man, however high his rank, could be 
 so protected by the saints as one of 
 their own servants, he made no doubt 
 that the nobleman had been unable to 
 support the rough treatment under 
 which nothing but his ecclesiastical 
 armour, the favour of the Virgin, had 
 preserved the Bishop. When, how- 
 ever, this general exclamation seemed 
 to call upon him for positive informa- 
 tion, he became sensible of the hasti- 
 ness of his conclusion, though not the 
 less convinced of its justness. 
 
 " Yes, sacrificed 1" said the Bishop; 
 " I came here purposely to tell you that
 
 VARGAS. 97 
 
 he had been dragged out of his house 
 by the lawless rabble, with the Justicia 
 at their head." 
 
 " Your Excellency must pardon 
 me," said the Conde de Aranda; " the 
 Justicia is utterly incapable of exciting 
 the people to any lawless act." 
 
 " Perhaps the act of heading a po- 
 pular tumult is not considered lawless 
 by the Conde de Aranda," said Alon- 
 zo Molina. 
 
 " I understand you, Sir/' replied 
 Aranda ; " but I consider that my 
 known loyalty to my King, and de- 
 voted attachment to the laws of my 
 country, place me above the necessity 
 of replying to every insignificant im- 
 putation against me. It might come 
 better from me to suppose that they 
 are ignorant of the laws of Aragon, 
 who appear to set them at defiance by 
 glaringly infringing them." 
 
 VOL. I. F
 
 98 VARGAS. 
 
 *' Do you allude to us, the Inquisi- 
 tors of Zaragoza, Senor Conde ?" said 
 Molina. 
 
 " If my arrow has hit your Excel- 
 lencies," returned the Conde, " it 
 matters little against whom the bow 
 was drawn." 
 
 The knitting of Molina's brow 
 seemed to portend a serious termina- 
 tion to this altercation. But the minds 
 of the opponents were diverted from 
 the channel into which they had fallen, 
 by the increased tumultuary noise 
 without the gates, and the clattering 
 descent of a shower of stones and 
 other heavy missiles into the great 
 court of the castle, immediately be- 
 fore the windows of the hall in 
 which they were assembled. This at- 
 tack drew every body to the window, 
 except the unhappy Bishop, whose 
 nervous system was so violently acted
 
 VARGAS. 99 
 
 upon by the loud shouts which fol- 
 lowed, and their concomitant recol- 
 lections, that, starting up, he seized 
 his coif^ and began lustily to echo the 
 " Viva la libertadr " Viva Antonio 
 Perez!'* which resounded from the 
 outside of the walls. 
 
 This nervous attack was, however, 
 momentary ; and, sinking back into his 
 seat, the agitated old man repeated 
 with a trembling voice, " I told you 
 so — the half hour's past — they are set- 
 ting fire to the doors — they are burn- 
 ing down the house !" and, giving him- 
 self up to the hysteric impulse which 
 choked his utterance, he burst into 
 tears. 
 
 The smile upon the countenance of 
 Aranda, and the look of contempt 
 from that of Molina, were repressed 
 by the news which was brought them, 
 that the mob, impatient of delay, were 
 f2
 
 100 VARGAS. 
 
 preparing materials for the purpose of 
 putting into execution their threat of 
 burning down the doors, and of ob- 
 taining Antonio Perez by force. 
 
 There was a pause ; it was inter- 
 rupted by an Inquisitor, who declared 
 that he saw no means of escaping the 
 danger, but by complying with the 
 demands of the people. 
 
 " Are we not in a fortress .?" said 
 Molina, while his eyes flashed fire ; 
 " and are we not provided with every 
 thing necessary to hold out much 
 longer than the reptile rage of this 
 loathsome rabble will endure ?" 
 
 " Be assured," exclaimed Aranda, 
 " that you cannot oppose the unani- 
 mous will of a combined people ; nor 
 is the resentment of an outraged na- 
 tion so short-lived, nor so despicable, as 
 you imagine. There is but one line 
 of conduct to pursue^ restore Antonio 
 3
 
 VARGAS. 101 
 
 Perez to the prison of the Manifesta- 
 cion, where I pledge myself that he 
 shall remain secure ; and the decision 
 of the point between Aragon and the 
 Inquisition may be referred to the 
 proper Courts, whose sentence will 
 have the same effect as if this unwar- 
 rantable act had not been com- 
 mitted." 
 
 The two Inquisitors, who were now 
 more intimidated by the hurly-hurlij 
 which filled their ears from without, 
 than they were wont to be by the 
 energy of their brother Inquisitor with- 
 in, declared that their opinion per- 
 fectly coincided with Aranda's : the 
 Conde de Morata joined them, and 
 the mitred Viceroy raised his voice to 
 entreat that they would no longer de- 
 lay to execute what he proposed. 
 
 Molina's rage had been long rising, 
 and had required his utmost self-com-
 
 102 VARGAS. 
 
 niand to restrain it : at the coalition 
 thus formed against his fixed deter- 
 mination not to surrender his victim, 
 this self-command totally forsook him, 
 and a violent imprecation burst from 
 him. He, however, almost immediate- 
 ly recovered the rein of his passion, 
 which, for a moment, had escaped 
 him ; and, with eyes darting fire, which 
 was envenomed by the contemptuous 
 expression of his lips, he distinctly and 
 deliberately protested against the pro- 
 ceeding, and declared the right of the 
 holy tribunal to the body of the sor- 
 cerer Antonio Perez; then turning 
 his back upon the assembly, he dis- 
 dainfully left them. 
 
 He walked out of the hall by one 
 door, whilst the entreaties and persua- 
 sions of Aranda and Morata, ably 
 assisted by the riotous shouts of the 
 mob, forced the remaining two reluct-
 
 VARGAS. 103 
 
 ant and trembling Inquisitors out at 
 the other door. When the Bishop of 
 Teruel saw them go with the inten- 
 tion of restoring Perez to the Mani- 
 festacion, he followed them with all 
 the alacrity of youth, alternately giv- 
 ing praise to the Blessed Virgin, and 
 expressing his joy by repeating the 
 exclamations which had become so 
 suddenly familiar to him, and which, 
 in the complete confusion of his mind, 
 were the only ones he could find 
 ready upon his tongue-—" Viva An- 
 tonio Perez — blessed be our Holy 
 Lady of the Pillar — liberty for ever 1" 
 When they got into the court-yard, 
 the voice of the people pealed so 
 loudly upon their ears that they could 
 hardly hear themselves speak. This 
 was of wonderful effect in hastening 
 the desired end, for the sinking hearts
 
 lOi VARGAS. 
 
 of the Inquisitors had been struck 
 with a mortal fear at the separation of 
 ^lolina iVom them in so important a 
 step : they wanted some very power- 
 tiil impulse to " screw their courage to 
 the sticking-plaee j" and this was com- 
 pletely effected by such overwhelm- 
 ing shouts heard in the open air, the 
 people being only separated from 
 them by a wall which they almost ex- 
 pected to see give way to the pressure 
 of the mass. The present awe over- 
 powered for a moment that whicli 
 they had felt upon cpiitting JNlolina, 
 and in that moment the order tor tlie 
 restitution of the prisoner was given, 
 and as quickly obeyed. 
 
 The Conde de Aranda then went 
 to the postern. The moment he 
 showed himself there was a shout of 
 " Viva el Conde de iVranda.'* He
 
 VARGAS. 105 
 
 assured them that Antonio Perez was 
 given up by the Inquisitors, but that 
 he had pledged himself that he should 
 be safely deposited in the prison of 
 the Manifestacion. An universal burst 
 of joy followed this communication, 
 which continued till the rescued 
 Perez, the Bishop, and the two Counts, 
 were safe in the vice-regal carriage. 
 The Bishop did not forget his patri- 
 otic cries, but was prodigal of them 
 as he was helped into the coach, say- 
 ing to those who were the nearest — 
 ^' Did not I promise that I would 
 bring him safe to you ?'' 
 
 They found it impossible to pro- 
 ceed in the carriage, as every indi- 
 vidual of the crowd pressed anxiously 
 forward, to see, and if possible to 
 touch, their restored favourite. As 
 all tended to the same point, it was in 
 vain to endeavour to move. The car 
 f5
 
 106 VARGAS. 
 
 riage, however, prevented the people 
 from seeing Perez, and they conse- 
 quently dismounted a cavalier who 
 had joined the crowd, and, leading the 
 horse to the carriage, they made 
 Perez mount it. In this way they 
 conducted him triumphantly to the 
 prison of the Manifestacion, express- 
 ing, in the most clamorous manner, 
 their sense of his injuries, and their 
 joy at the victory which they had ob- 
 tained. 
 
 When Antonio Perez was again in 
 possession of his rights of safety as a 
 manifestado, the people remained for 
 some time before the door, and seve- 
 ral of them began to call for the jailer, 
 who had betrayed his trust in admit- 
 ting the demand of the Inquisitors: 
 but they were now rather a good-hu- 
 moured mob, than an enraged one; 
 many of them had retired to their
 
 Vargas. 107 
 
 homes; and by the persuasions of the 
 Conde de Aranda, and of several 
 other persons of rank in the city, the 
 whole were in a short time dispersed, 
 so that before sun-set the town was 
 perfectly quiet. 
 
 When any man, from an impulse of 
 violent anger, has been induced to do 
 that to which, in his calmer moments, 
 he cannot but anticipate serious con- 
 sequences, he is usually anxious and 
 silent when he is first awakened to 
 these reflections by the subsiding of 
 his rage. This may, perhaps, account 
 for the perfect stillness which reigned 
 throughout Zaragoza on the night of 
 the 24th of May, 1590. The fate of 
 the Marquis of Almenara (for most 
 of the people believed him to have 
 died immediately) alarmed those who 
 had formed part of the crowd, and as- 
 tonished the few, that had not : and
 
 108 VARGAS. 
 
 though, perhaps, there never were 
 fewer sleepers in the city than on that 
 night, yet there certainly never was 
 less appearance of waking.
 
 VARGAS. 109 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Good, my liege, 
 The day that she was missing he was here. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 On the morning following the me- 
 morable 24th of May, the Senora En- 
 gracia was more than usually loqua- 
 cious, whilst preparing the small cup 
 of chocolate which constituted the 
 breakfast of her lodger, in the hope 
 of obtaining a full account of the 
 part he had taken in the events of the 
 preceding day. 
 
 " Terrible times these, good Seiior, 
 when people can't be protected in 
 their houses by the good old laws of 
 our ancestors : what will come upon 
 us next, when one man can't be safe 
 in the Manifestacion, nor another in 
 his palace ?"
 
 110 VARGAS. 
 
 Agreda fixed his eyes on the bra- 
 sero, and stirred his chocolate. 
 
 " I wouldn't have had a husband 
 or a son in that mob yesterday, no, 
 not to be venerated like the blessed 
 Saint Engracia in heaven/' resumed 
 the old woman, turning mechanically, 
 at the mention of her patron saint, to 
 the coarse wood-cut glued upon the 
 wall, and crossing herself devoutly. 
 
 Agreda was immoveable. 
 
 " It's much to have had an ac- 
 quaintance amongst them." She 
 
 paused, looking at Agreda to see 
 whether this side blow had roused 
 him from his reverie ; but finding 
 that he paid no attention to it, she 
 took courage and went on : — " Ay, 
 and too much too to have had one 
 who lives in one's own house leading 
 them on." Another pause — but 
 no reply. " They say that Gil de 
 2
 
 VARGAS. 1 1 1 
 
 Meza run his sword through the Mar- 
 quis's body, but that he was not killed 
 dead till some one struck him on the 
 head — I wonder who that was!" 
 
 The old lady had all this time been 
 occupied in twirling between the 
 palms of her hands the handle of the 
 mill that stirred her own cup of cho- 
 colate, which was boiling on the bra- 
 sero. As it had now acquired the pro- 
 per consistency and froth, she, for a few 
 minutes, found other occupation for 
 her instrument of speech than that of 
 giving utterance to her thoughts. 
 The thoughts, however, continued in 
 the same chain, and were busied in 
 planning how she could make Agreda 
 disclose all he knew. After rejecting 
 many circumlocutory ways of obtain- 
 ing this information, which were sug- 
 gested by her cunning, her propensity 
 to talk overcame her prudence, and
 
 1 1 2 VARGAS. 
 
 she involuntarily put aloud the direct 
 question which occurred to her mind : 
 
 " It wasn't you who knocked the 
 Marquis on the head, was it, Serior 
 Agreda?" 
 
 Agreda had been so much accus- 
 tomed to hear the constant babble of 
 her everlasting stream of words, that 
 he had acquired the habit of letting 
 them fall upon his ear unheard ; as 
 those who live near a church soon 
 cease to hear the ringing of the bells : 
 the interrogative tone, and the sound 
 of his name, however, recalled him 
 to the perception of her presence, and 
 looking at her, he simply ejaculated— 
 " What?" 
 
 Sehora Engracia had been so as- 
 tonished to find that she had let out 
 so bold a question, that she was thrown 
 into the utmost confusion. The 
 countenance of Agreda, always stern
 
 VARGAS. 113 
 
 and unbent, and his voice low and 
 round, now seemed to her the indica- 
 tions of strong anger ; and his mono- 
 syllable so alarmed her, that she sat 
 trembling without attempting to speak. 
 Finding that she had nothing to say, 
 Agreda silently put on his cloak, 
 buckled his swordbelt, and left the 
 house with the usual parting compli- 
 ment. 
 
 Agreda left his landlady in dire 
 consternation. She took it for grant- 
 ed that she had offended him mor- 
 tally ; and that he was offended, was, 
 in her judgment, proof positive that 
 her imagination had hit upon the 
 truth, and that he was actually the 
 murderer of the Marquis of Almenara. 
 Then she wondered whether, as she 
 had discovered him, he would ever 
 return to her house. She appealed 
 to her conscience whether she ought
 
 114 VARGAS. 
 
 to inform against him ; and, in the dis- 
 cussion of a long list of similar ques- 
 tions, arising out of her wonderful 
 discovery, her quick imagination was 
 occupied until midday, when the olla 
 was ready, and she looked out for her 
 generally punctual lodger. The olla 
 waited five minutes — ten minutes — a 
 tedious half hour ! Oh ! now she was 
 certain that she had been right: Agreda 
 had been the Marquis's murderer, 
 and would never again set foot in her 
 house, for fear of detection. 
 
 Seiiora Engracia eat her dinner 
 with unusual celerity ; and to have at- 
 tempted to sleep the siesta would 
 have been quite useless ; so she hardly 
 gave herself time to return thanks for 
 her meal before she repaired to the 
 little apartment of her late lodger. 
 She carefully rummaged over his va- 
 lise, which contained nothing but a
 
 VARGAS. 115 
 
 few articles of apparel and several 
 books. These books she examined 
 very minutely, but could make no- 
 thing of them. She read her own 
 language but indifferently, though she 
 could read her missal through from 
 be2:inninf? to end. After much con- 
 sideration, therefore, she determined 
 that these books were neither in 
 Latin nor in Spanish — but here she 
 stopped. The poor old lady's hair 
 would have stood an end if she could 
 have understood their titles only ; for 
 one was, " the damning deceite of Po- 
 pery and the worshiping of Images ;" 
 another, " the faithfull 7xcorde of the 
 life of Alartin Luther done into Eng- 
 lish ;" it was well for Senora En- 
 gracia, therefore, that she could not 
 understand these sacrilegious books. 
 There was, however, something intel- 
 ligible to her ; a trifle which, small as
 
 1 1 6 VARGAS. 
 
 it was, awakened her most ardent cu- 
 riosity : on the blank leaf of each 
 book was written in Spanish " Bar- 
 tolome Vargas, his book, London, 1586." 
 Her right-catholic eye observed that 
 these words were not in any case sur- 
 mounted by a cross, without making 
 which symbol of faith at the top of 
 the page no good Spaniard ever puts 
 pen to paper. 
 
 While she was considering this im- 
 portant circumstance, and ejaculating 
 the name of Vargas ! Vargas ! as not 
 being able to reconcile it with her 
 lodger's appellation, she was attracted 
 by a call from a window of the oppo- 
 site house in the narrow street in 
 which she lived : 
 
 " Hist ! hist! Seiiora Engracia V* 
 
 She raised her head, and saw her 
 neighbour at the window. 
 
 " There has been an officer of the
 
 VARGAS. 1 1 V 
 
 Holy Office lurking about your house 
 all siesta time : I have seen the man 
 peep in at the window two or three 
 times, and my husband knows him to 
 belong to the Aljaferia ; he has just 
 turned the corner, and I took the op- 
 portunity to tell you : here he is 
 again." She instantly retired from 
 the grating. 
 
 The very name of the Inquisitiow 
 struck alarm wherever it was an- 
 nounced all over Spain, but particu- 
 larly in Aragon, where so much re- 
 sistance had been made to its intro- 
 duction. The book fell from the 
 hands of the palsied old woman, and 
 she remained motionless until a man 
 appeared before the grating of her 
 window and called her by name. 
 
 At the repetition of her own name 
 she fell upon her knees, and in a loud 
 voice began to repeat her Pater noster,
 
 118 VARGAS. 
 
 in which her fear, however, would not 
 allow her to proceed. It was some 
 time before her smiling visiter could 
 get an answer to his question — " Is 
 Don Bartolome Vargas in the house ?" 
 *' Vargas ! I know no such person 
 — ^yes — no — he was — he's gone." 
 
 The questioner at last discovered 
 that the person he sought was not 
 there, and began to understand that 
 he was not known by the name of 
 Vargas. He left the terrified Seiiora 
 En^racia with these words : 
 
 " I am not an enemy to your 
 lodger, and am come to do him good ; 
 tell him, when he returns, that if he 
 will be on the wooden bridge at ten 
 o'clock to-night, he will meet a 
 friend." 
 
 We will say nothing of the reco- 
 very of this old lady from her con- 
 sternation ; nor of the suppositions
 
 VARGAS. 119 
 
 and imaginations with which she 
 amused herself for several hours ; nor 
 of her astonishment at the return of 
 the man whom she looked upon as a 
 murderer, and who, without having 
 once thought of Seiiora Engracia, or of 
 her question, had passed the greater 
 part of the day with Antonio Perez. 
 He had been detained in conversation, 
 on the subject of his friend's imprison- 
 ment, much later than usual, and it 
 w-as past ten o'clock before he entered 
 the house ; it was full half an hour 
 more before he could collect from his 
 bewildered landlady a clear account 
 of what had happened. When at last 
 he understood the message which had 
 been left, he said not one word to 
 Seiiora Engracia, but hastened to the 
 place appointed. 
 
 A young moon was making a rapid 
 descent towards the horizon, and its
 
 120 VARGAS. 
 
 rays cast a long shadow from the only 
 being who was upon the low wooden 
 bridge which stretched across the 
 Ebro. The folds of his cloak were 
 thrown across his body over his left 
 shoulder, but not so as to muffle his 
 face, which was turned towards the 
 river as he leaned over the balustrade. 
 From the fashion of his cloak and his 
 cap he seemed to be an Aragonese 
 peasant ; and he was singing, in a low 
 voice, a common country song. 
 
 The agitation of mind into which 
 Agreda, or, as I may now call him, 
 Vargas, was thrown by the discovery 
 of his own name, was visible in the 
 hurried pace which brought him to the 
 bridge. The rustic appearance of the 
 man who leant upon it, and his appa- 
 rent unconcern at the approach of a 
 stranger, induced Vargas to believe 
 that it was not the person he sought.
 
 VARGAS. 121 
 
 and made him fear that he had come 
 too late. He went across the bridge 
 with the same haste with which he had 
 reached it, but he returned with a 
 slow and dejected step. As he re- 
 approached the peasant, he found him 
 still singing, but he had turned round 
 and was looking towards him. Vargas 
 listened to his song — 
 
 Oh ! thou art a foolish stream,* old Ebro ! 
 
 And a fanciful stream art thou ; 
 What wizard cculd make you dream, old Ebro, 
 
 Of flowing the way that you flow ? 
 
 Near the beautiful shores of the North, old Ebro ! 
 
 Are thy whimsical waters born ; 
 Yet thy current it rolleth forth, old Ebro, 
 
 And treateth those shores with scorn. 
 
 And many a league dost thou roll, old Ebro ! 
 To kiss a sea more to thy mind ; 
 
 * The Spaniards say that the Ebro is a fool- 
 ish stream, because it rises within a short distance 
 of the Bay of Biscay, and yet it takes a journey 
 of hundreds of leagues to fall into the sea. 
 
 VOL. I. G
 
 12'2 VARGAS. 
 
 But I that declare thee a fool, old Ebro I 
 In thy folly I leave thee behind. 
 
 On thy banks stands the place of my birth, old 
 Ebro, 
 
 Where the maidens are fondling, and fair ; 
 But I fly to the end of the earth, old Ebro ! 
 
 And lose my heart foolishly there. 
 
 «^ A silly chap I am, too, for my 
 pains," said the peasant, as he closed 
 his song; " I know but one other as 
 silly — a certain Don Bartolome Var- 
 gas. Do you know him ?*' 
 
 " Who are you ?'* said Vargas. 
 
 " An hour's sucking in the breath 
 of the Ebro when she's kissed by the 
 moon may alter a man's voice a little, 
 to be sure, or else I should think you 
 might have known Perico, if he had 
 but cried arrt to a mule." 
 
 " Perico ! How long from Seville ? 
 ' What of Dona Cornelia ?" 
 
 " What of her, Seor ? Th ere's no- 
 thing of her left in her father's house ;
 
 VARGAS. 123 
 
 the world says she's with your honour 
 in France, and the world's the devil — 
 but the devil lies, seeing that his 
 wickedness knows very well that Dona 
 Cornelia is not with your honour, but 
 in a certain prison at Seville; for in 
 the shape of an Archbishop, he took 
 her there himself." 
 
 Perico's humour was insupportable 
 to Vargas at this moment ; he seized 
 him firmly by the arm, and exclaimed, 
 " I cannot bear this — tell me, in one 
 word, where is Dona Cornelia, and 
 what you know of her?" 
 
 " In Seville, Sefior," answered Pe- 
 rico, in the same raised tone as that in 
 which he had been questioned ; then 
 lowering it to a kind of a side voice, 
 he added, " I wish I were as far from 
 your grasp as she is ; you must talk 
 to St. Peter before you grasp her any 
 more— she is in the Inquisition." 
 g2
 
 124" VARGAS. 
 
 Vargas let go his hold ; his own 
 arm dropped ; he stood motionless, 
 with an expression of horror on his 
 countenance, which, as the moon 
 shone upon it, really alarmed the 
 good-natured Perico, who, though 
 incorrigibly light-hearted and light- 
 tongued, hastened to give further in- 
 formation in fewer words than was his 
 custom. 
 
 " The same day that you left the 
 Marquis's house, Sefior, Dona Cor- 
 nelia was missing also ; of course 
 every body said she went with you, 
 and so her poor old father thinks to 
 this hour, if he's alive, poor gentle- 
 man. But she was taken from the 
 house by stratagem or by force, 
 Senor — the Archbishop ; " and see- 
 ing the increased agitation in Vargas's 
 countenance, he repeated " the Arch- 
 bishop !" and left him to unravel the
 
 VARGAS. 1 2,5 
 
 mystery, having given what he con- 
 ceived to be a sufficient clue. 
 
 Vargas's internal struggle continued 
 for a considerable time. His agony 
 at length found utterance in a strong 
 exclamation, and taking two or three 
 paces across the bridge, he struck his 
 breast with his hand violently. 
 
 After a pause, he turned to Perico, 
 who, by this time, w^as relieved from 
 the feeling of alarm which Vargas's 
 emotion had excited, and had conse- 
 quently returned to the usual cur- 
 rent of his habits — " Go on." 
 
 " Begging your honour's pardon, 
 there's no going on when you once 
 get into the Inquisition, and there the 
 poor Senorita has got ; so Lord help 
 her, for the Archbishop won't." 
 
 " No fooHng, Sir; how came she 
 in the Inquisition — upon what charge 
 — by whom ?"
 
 126 VARGAS. 
 
 " Excuse me, Seiior, these are ques- 
 tions I cannot answer; and if I could, 
 I don't know that I would ; there's 
 an old proverb, you know, * with the 
 King and the Inquisition — Hush, 
 hush I'"* 
 
 It was with the greatest difficulty 
 that Vargas could collect any clear 
 comprehension of the events which 
 Perico had to relate. The natural 
 good feeling which induced him to 
 open his heart to Vargas was conti- 
 nually combated by the fear of involv- 
 ing himself in difficulties by the com- 
 munication, and this fear occasionally 
 presented itself to his mind, enrobed 
 in all the terrors of the Inquisition. 
 When urged by the impatience and 
 evident agony of his auditor to pro- 
 ceed straight forward in his narrative, 
 he would unluckily hit upon some link 
 
 * Con el Rey y la Inquisicion, chiton ! chiton !
 
 VARGAS. 127 
 
 of dread and caution in the chain of 
 his ideas, and suddenly checking him- 
 self, it was impossible to make him 
 proceed. The habitual jocularity of 
 his humour, from which he could 
 hardly be forced by the most serious 
 circumstances, contributed to make 
 his tale unintelligible to Vargas, and 
 increased the torments of suspense 
 which he endured. 
 
 After a conversation of two hour:^ 
 to obtain the information which might 
 have been given in ten minutes, Var- 
 gas went away in a state of mind 
 which it would be difficult to describe, 
 and of which it would be quite useless 
 to attempt to give an idea to the 
 reader until he becomes more initiated 
 into the sufferer's secrets. 
 
 At day-break he was several leagues 
 from Zaragoza, proceeding with all 
 the despatch of an ambling post-horse, 
 on the road to Andalucia.
 
 1 28 VARGAS. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Ay me ! what perils do environ 
 
 The man that meddles with cold iron. 
 
 HUDIBHAS. 
 
 Whoever has travelled a long jour-. 
 ney with a heavy heart, and been 
 ibrced to put up with a chattering un- 
 sjmpathizing companion, may form 
 some idea of Vargas's state of mind 
 v;hen he drew near to Seville. Post 
 after post from Aragon to Andalucia, 
 had he endeavoured to repress the 
 communicative loquacity, or the in- 
 quisitive curiosity of the guide of his 
 way, and the guardian of his horse or 
 mule, as the case might be. Every 
 mozo de posta, (a term which I must 
 translate postboy^ for want of a better 
 word, although there is nothing in 
 common between a postboy of Eng-
 
 VARGAS. 12l) 
 
 land and a mozo de posta of Spain, 
 except the feeding of their animals:) 
 every postboy conceived it to be a 
 part of his duty, and by no means a 
 disagreeable part, to entertain the tra- 
 veller by the way, and would as soon 
 have thought of tying his horses' feet 
 as his own tongue. As Vargas found 
 that he had such countless tormentors 
 to appease, and that as soon as he 
 silenced one another arose, he pru- 
 dently gave up the endeavour, and ab- 
 stracted his thoughts entirely from his 
 varying guides. The neglected post- 
 boys finding themselves unattended to 
 and unanswered, turned their conver- 
 sation to their beasts, who both paid 
 attention, and answered by obedience 
 to their commands. At large towns 
 the traveller was mounted upon a de- 
 cent sort of Rosenante, which set oiT 
 at an habitual amble beyond the power 
 G S
 
 1 30 VARGAS. 
 
 of spur or whip to increase ; and his 
 guide, mounted upon the better animal 
 of the twOj took the lead by the length 
 of his horse. In smaller villages, or 
 where the relay was stationed at a so- 
 litary venta by the road side, the ut- 
 most accommodation which the tra- 
 veller could expect was the use of a 
 hard-mouthed mule, frequently brought 
 ftom the plough or the mill to receive 
 the high demi-pique saddle ; while the 
 ploughman or the miller would take 
 tiis staff, and, walking before, keep the 
 mule in the long-bounding pace which 
 carries those beasts on so rapidly, and 
 with so much ease. 
 
 Had Vargas been preparing himself 
 to be put upon the rack, he could not 
 have gone through a better training 
 for torture than he endured through- 
 out this whole long journey j perpe- 
 tually tormented with questions and
 
 VARGAS. 131 
 
 conversation, while a gnawing uneasi- 
 ness preyed upon his mind ; he at last 
 succeeded in conquering the irrita- 
 bility which they excited, or at least 
 in forbearing to express it, and he 
 went patiently on, unmoved by narra- 
 tive or interrogation, uninfluenced by 
 jest or impertinence. 
 
 He rested as seldom as possible on 
 the road, and frequently travelled all 
 night. He took a few hours' sleep at 
 a village as he approached the Gua- 
 diana, and set forth at day-break with 
 fresh horses and a guide, who differed 
 in nothing from the many he had al- 
 ready endured, but in his strong Anda- 
 lucian lisp and louder tone of voice. 
 His lisp and his loud voice were, how- 
 ever, set at defiance by Vargas's per- 
 severing silence; and, after a tedious 
 six leagues, that took them over the 
 Guadiana and some distance beyond!
 
 ] 32 VARGAS. 
 
 Medellin, they came to the venta where 
 the relay was established. 
 
 " Here's ari end of the longest 
 course thou'st ever made over the 
 same ground/' said the postboy to his 
 horse, as he turned his leg over the 
 high crupper of his saddle. 
 
 " Call the master of the inn, and 
 let horses be brought as soon as pos- 
 sible," said Vargas. 
 
 " What ! your Excellency has got 
 a tongue, ey ? I wish you joy of hav- 
 ing found the use of it just when you 
 want it ; for save and except by your 
 own voice, you're not likely to have 
 your ears kept in order by those you'll 
 find here, seeing that there's nobody." 
 
 It was very true ; the venta ap- 
 peared to be deserted. One of its 
 large barn-like doors was open, and 
 admitted the postboy, who found not 
 a living creature within its walls.
 
 VARGAS. 133 
 
 " How far is it to the next relay ?" 
 asked Vargas; " we must go on with 
 these horses.'* 
 
 " As to the distance, Seiior/' re- 
 plied the postboy, " it's seven of the 
 best leagues in Estremadura; that is, 
 best as to quantity ; I can't say as 
 much for the quality, as you may 
 judge by the last league we came, 
 which is like the high road to the de- 
 vil* compared with it." 
 
 " I am sorry for it, friend ; there 
 is no resource — w^e must go on ;" and 
 Vargas was exciting his horse to do 
 as he said, when the postboy inter- 
 posed. 
 
 " Alto! my old boy— alto, Torero 1" 
 The obedient animal refused to pro- 
 ceed, and all the excitements which 
 
 * The Spaniards say that the road to hea- 
 ven is rugged, up hill, and long; but that to helJ 
 is short, down hill, and well trodden.
 
 134 VARGAS. 
 
 Vargas could use only made him 
 start, and caracole, and fly across the 
 road. 
 
 Finding all he could do was to no 
 purpose, he gave up his combat with 
 the horse, and turned to remonstrate 
 with its master. 
 
 During Vargas's endeavours to make 
 the horse proceed, the man had quietly 
 taken his seat at the door of the 
 venta, occasionally giving his word of 
 command of " Alto ! aca 1'* and now 
 that Vargas addressed him, he threw 
 his cloak round him in the manner 
 which Vargas had done during their 
 ride, and staring at him with a look 
 which he intended to be an imitation 
 of his, he closed his lips firmly, indi- 
 cative of determined silence. 
 
 The humour of his caricature might 
 have forced a laugh from any one 
 whose mind was less oppressed, less 
 
 1
 
 VARGAS. 135 
 
 broken than Vargas's ; it exasperated 
 him beyond his power of control ; 
 and finding that to all he could say 
 his impudent guide remained uni- 
 formly silent, and with the same arch 
 expression upon his countenance ; he 
 drew his sword, determined to punish 
 the fellow for his insolence with a few 
 smart blows. The Andaluz instantly 
 threw his cloak aside with his left 
 hand, and with his right drew from its 
 sheath, which lay in his thigh-pocket, 
 a long two-edged knife, the weapon 
 common at that time amongst the 
 lower classes in Spain. He held his 
 hand down with the instrument laid 
 along the palm of it and his middle 
 finger, in the attitude to impel this 
 deadly weapon ; but he showed, by the 
 increasing archness of his look, and 
 his unbroken silence, that he kept his 
 temper, and was only on the defensive*
 
 136 VARGAS. 
 
 Vargas knew that these men were 
 so expert in throwing these weapons, 
 that many of them could fix their 
 knives fast at a mark in the wall at 
 twenty yards' distance. He sheathed 
 his sword, and called for a parley in a 
 conciliating tone, saying, that he was 
 a Cavallero. 
 
 " Knight or no knight/* replied 
 the postboy, " an thou be'st too proud 
 to speak to an honest peasant, thou 
 be'st too proud to take a favour from 
 him J I've brought thee here, and here 
 I'll leave thee." 
 
 " My good lad, I'm not too proud 
 to speak to you j I'll give you a ducat 
 to come with me to the next relay." 
 
 " Keep thy ducat to buy scab- 
 bards ; an thou drawest thy Toledo 
 for such trifles, it will scarce provide 
 thee with *em for a twelvemonth — 
 yonder's the beast that will take thee
 
 VARGAS. 137 
 
 6n ; Torero's too good for the like 
 o'thee." 
 
 Then pointing to an overhanging 
 rock under which the venta was 
 built, he gave a loud shout, which 
 was answered by a sturdy lad who 
 was leading a laden mule down the 
 mountain-path. 
 
 The lad was soon at the door of the 
 venta, and the mule's load of chest- 
 nuts and billets was exchanged for a 
 saddle, which, with its iron box-stir- 
 rups, and high cuiss-supporters, would 
 perhaps have outweighed the burthen 
 from which it had been relieved. As 
 Vargas saw that the mule was a good 
 one, and likely to carry him as well as 
 the horse which had already come 
 some distance, he said no more to his 
 impudent jester, but paid him and 
 pursued his journey, with his new 
 guide walking beside him. This was
 
 138 VARGAS. 
 
 a lad more rustic than those he had 
 generally met with ; and as the pace 
 which his mule made him keep drew 
 largely upon his lungs, he had little 
 breath to spare for talking: after a 
 few words in praise of his mule, he 
 left the traveller to his own thoughts, 
 and trudged along in silence. 
 
 In the present state of Vargas's 
 mind, neither the sublimity, nor the 
 wildness, nor the beauty or bounty of 
 nature had power to draw his atten- 
 tion from the object of his journey. 
 He had passed over magnificent si- 
 erras, and through rich corn fields, 
 and vineyards interminable to the 
 eye, and had hardly been aware of 
 the transition. His attention was, 
 however, arrested for a moment by 
 the scene which lay before him upon 
 arriving at an elevated point whence 
 the road began to descend. The un»
 
 VARGAS. 139 
 
 even masses of mountain which formed 
 large promontories jutting into deep 
 valleys, had for some distance consti- 
 tuted the inconvenient and unvary- 
 ing character of the road ; but these 
 all sunk into insignificance, and al- 
 most seemed a level surface for the 
 foundation of an immense command- 
 ing rock of an extraordinary shape. 
 On one side it rose perpendicularly 
 to an enormous height, and stretch- 
 ed onward to a considerable distance, 
 presenting to the eye a broad flat 
 wall, in which the strata of differ- 
 ent kinds of earth or stone traced 
 long lines of varied colours, while 
 here and there a tuft of hardy thorn 
 seemed to lodge upon a small crevice, 
 or a chance oak, with half its roots 
 exposed, with difficulty reared its 
 branches towards the source of light. 
 It was hardly possible to conceive
 
 140 VARGAS. 
 
 that this majestic cliff was not a bul- 
 wark from an invading ocean ; and 
 after examining its utmost height, the 
 eye involuntarily sought at its base 
 the mass of waters by whose primeval 
 convulsions it appeared to have been 
 severed from a receding continent : 
 but it arose out of a low narrow val- 
 ley, the opposite declivity of which 
 was formed by oak-covered headlands 
 of the nature of those above mention- 
 ed, and which dwindled into hillocks 
 by antagony with their giant oppo- 
 nent. A little further on, thesQ 
 shelved down, or broke abruptly off 
 to form the banks of the river Ma- 
 tachel, which, as it approached its 
 confluence with the Guadiana, was 
 now a considerable stream. From the 
 very summit of this high and even 
 wall commenced the descent on the 
 other side by a steep declivity, co-
 
 VARGAS. 141 
 
 vered at the highest part with large 
 chimps of trees gradually intermingled 
 with the verdure that overspread 
 the lower region of this enormous 
 wedge, which, standing alone on an 
 extensive plain that commenced from 
 its shelving side, suggested the idea 
 of the advanced breastwork of some 
 giant's fortress. At that end of the 
 we.dge which presented itself to Var- 
 gas's sight, the summit considerably 
 overhung the base, which seemed to 
 have been worn away by the eternal 
 rippling of a small streamlet, rising 
 from a height a few leagues distant, 
 and forcing its progress to the Ma- 
 tachel, into whose current it fell just 
 in time to increase its tribute to the 
 Guadiana. The further end of the 
 rocky wedge formed a declivity to- 
 wards the plain, but w^as so steep as 
 to render its ascent impossible. 
 
 At the northern extremity of this
 
 142 VARGAS. 
 
 singular and solitary mountain, just 
 on the spot where it overhung the 
 little river Palomas, stood an ancient 
 Moorish castle, black with age and 
 frowning in situation, upon a pro- 
 minent scite which raised it above 
 the trees that surrounded its founda- 
 tion rock. Amidst these trees, and 
 connected with the old fortification, 
 the roof of a more modern building 
 was discerned ; and at a break in the 
 foliage, the front of this could be 
 seen, built of white stone, which 
 seemed not long to have been hewn 
 from a quarry about mid-way down 
 the mountain. The Moorish style 
 was preserved in the modern addi- 
 tion, in conformity to the ancient for- 
 tress; but embrasures for cannon 
 were superadded upon a terrace which 
 projected from the Castle along the 
 summit of the mountain. 
 
 It was impossible not to be struck
 
 TARGAS. 143 
 
 with the picturesque situation of this 
 Castle ; and in viewing it, Vargas, for 
 a moment, lost the sense of his mise- 
 ries : his naturally vivid and romantic 
 imagination arose with a sudden bound 
 as it was relieved from the weight 
 which had dragged it down, and in its 
 rapid, but momentary flight, skimmed 
 over an extensive range of thought ; 
 like the Sultan in the Turkish Tales, 
 who, having put his head into a tub of 
 water, passes in imagination through 
 the detail of several years of his life 
 before he withdraws his head from the 
 dip. 
 
 " What is the name of that castle ?" 
 asked Vargas of his guide. 
 
 The lad was struck with surprise at 
 this sudden termination of his long 
 silence, and haying totally relaxed 
 from the labour of thought, it was 
 some moments before he could renew
 
 144 VARGAS. 
 
 it : he filled up the space with an in- 
 stinctive ejaculation of " Senorl" 
 
 Upon a repetition of the question 
 Vargas obtained an answer, and then 
 the machinery of the Estremeiian's 
 mind having worked itself into action, 
 it went on upon the impetus it had 
 acquired, unassisted by the excite- 
 ment of any new question. 
 
 " That castle, Seiior, is the Castle 
 of Alanje, and the whole of that great 
 rock that it stands on is called the 
 Pena de Alanje; and this great plain 
 that we're coming upon is the Campo 
 de Alanje ; and it's all from one and 
 the same thing, the town of Alanje, 
 about a short league off — there — on 
 the right — t'other side of the river — 
 behind that hill — yonder's the steeple 
 — just over that white piece of rock. 
 A fine place the Castle is, Seiior — and 
 a heap of stories they tell about it,
 
 VARGAS. 145 
 
 when the Moors governed these parts 
 — curses on 'em, say I, if all they tell 
 be true. Many a good Spaniard has 
 been tumbled off that north tower 
 there into the river Palomas below — a 
 fearful height, by the life o' St. Jerome. 
 Many a year passed, and not a soul 
 bowed to the cross at the gate, un- 
 less, may be. Father Lawrence, that 
 lives at the Hermitage at t'other end 
 of the rock. But the old Count 
 came to live here up at the Castle 
 about ten years ago, and built all that 
 white castle that the people o' the 
 plain call the White Moor." 
 
 " Does the Conde de Alange re- 
 side there now ? *' said Vargas. 
 
 " Yes, Sefior — the good old Conde 
 — I saw him myself last Easter — and 
 that was much to see, for his Excel- 
 lency never leaves the White Moor 
 but upon very great occasions." 
 
 VOL. I. H
 
 146 VARGAS. 
 
 The name of the Conde de Alaiige 
 acted upon the memory of Vargas, by 
 some slight and untraceable concate- 
 nation, to recal the full weight of his 
 woes ; the truant flight of his imagi- 
 nation was instantly restrained, and he 
 became again entirely absorbed in the 
 contemplation of his present situation. 
 In other days he had heard the name 
 of the Conde de Alange, and the bare 
 idea of those other days recalled a 
 train of the most painful reflections. 
 His companion went on, but he 
 ceased to feel any interest, or even to 
 hear what he said. 
 
 They reached the Peiia de Alange, 
 and began skirting its shelving descent 
 by a road which led them on the 
 plain. At a little distance from the 
 road, higher up the Peiia, stood a 
 group of houses of rather better ap- 
 pearance than those which were gene-
 
 VAIIGAS. 147 
 
 rally seen in Estremadura. The most 
 considerable of these was a large 
 venta, which was placed at the ex- 
 tremity of the wood that reached from 
 thence up to the castle, and through 
 which the road to it lay. A traveller 
 of a superior appearance was in the 
 act of mounting a fine mule, the stir- 
 rup of which was held by the landlord 
 of the venta, as Vargas came to the 
 spot where the road from the castle 
 joined that on which he was journey- 
 ing. The traveller pushed forward 
 his mule, and very soon overtook 
 Vargas. 
 
 He accosted him with the freedom 
 of good breeding, and said, that if 
 they were going on the same road, it 
 might not be disagreeable for them to 
 join company. Vargas coldly replied, 
 that he feared the speed with which 
 he travelled would ill suit the conve- 
 H 2
 
 148 VARGAS. 
 
 lience of any one not equally impa- 
 lent of delay. 
 
 The traveller imagining that the re- 
 serve of his companion might proceed 
 from distrust, at once announced him- 
 self as Don Diego Meneses, a gentle- 
 man of Valencia, but then on his 
 road to Seville. 
 
 Vargas bowed. 
 
 *•' Are you for Seville too, Sefior ?'* 
 
 " I am," returned his laconic com- 
 panion. 
 
 " Then, Sir, since my company 
 may, perhaps, be irksome," said Don 
 Diego, " and you purpose to take the 
 start of me, permit me to beg a fa- 
 vour of you. You are a gentleman, I 
 am sure, and will not refuse to oblige 
 another, who consents to be under an 
 obligation to you." 
 
 In any country such a request could 
 hardly be refused j but in the country
 
 VARGAS. 149 
 
 of chivalry to have refused it, would 
 have stained the reputation and honour 
 of a knight. Vargas begged to know 
 how he could serve him. 
 
 " I left Seville," Don Diego re- 
 sumed, " upon the duty of a knight 
 errant, in search of an injured young 
 lady, and in mortal defiance of her 
 base ravisher. Circumstances induced 
 me to beHeve that I might possibly 
 find both the objects of my search in 
 the Castle of Alange. I have, how- 
 ever, been deceived in my expecta- 
 tions, and must return to Seville dis- 
 appointed. The father of the young 
 lady is enduring all the agonies of un- 
 certainty, and if you arrive at Seville 
 before me, you may spare him the 
 pain of some hours' suspense, by in- 
 forming him how unsuccessful my 
 journey has been. You will under- 
 take this kind office ?'*
 
 1-50 VAUGAS. 
 
 Vargas again signified that he 
 would. 
 
 " YoLi will have no difficulty in ex- 
 ecuting this commission, for the father 
 is a nobleman of the first rank in 
 Seville — the Marquis of Bohorquia." 
 
 At the mention of the name Vargas 
 suddenly checked his mule, and gazed 
 upon his companion with a fixed wild 
 look, which was unintelligible and 
 surprising to Meneses. He was about 
 to speak, when Vargas first broke the 
 silence in a stern and peremptory tone 
 — " Of whom were you in search ?" 
 
 The Valentians are proverbial for 
 their irritability, and their readiness 
 to take offence. The blood now 
 boiled in the veins of Don Diego, and 
 pushing his mule up to Vargas's, he 
 asked him who he was who dared to 
 interrogate him in that tone. 
 
 " I am Don Bartolome Vargas,"
 
 VARGAS. 15 1 
 
 " Then you are a villain, and the 
 basest of villains ; praised be the saint 
 that brought me across thy cursed 
 path!" 
 
 Not a word more was said before 
 their swords crossed ; indeed, the ra- 
 pidity wuth which they both leaped 
 from their saddles afforded no time 
 for a reply. Meneses fought with a 
 flushed cheek, and in strong anger 
 against his adversary ; Vargas with a 
 sudden irritation at the insultini:^ 
 words which he had received, but 
 with an indifference to life, which he 
 seemed to defend only instinctively. 
 The longes of Meneses were deadly ; 
 the attacks of Vargas w^ere made only 
 to disarm his adversary : the duration 
 of the contest increased the swelling 
 anger of the one, while it gave the 
 sudden excitation of the other time to 
 subside. Meneses made a powerful
 
 152 VARGAS. 
 
 advance upon his adversary, but Var- 
 gas's rapid eye saw that in his very 
 spring his foot had slipped, and he 
 dropped his point. Meneses fell ; but 
 he fell with all the violence of the im- 
 pulse he had given himself, and his 
 well-directed sword entered the unde- 
 fended side of his antagonist with full 
 force. Vargas reeled, and fell upon 
 his prostrate enemy. .. 
 
 Meneses rose, covered with the 
 blood of the unfortunate Vargas, 
 whom he endeavoured to raise also. 
 
 " Where is Dona Cornelia Bohor- 
 quia ?" said he. 
 
 " Had you asked me that question 
 before you defied me as a villain," 
 said Vargas, " you might, perhaps, 
 have spared yourself the regret of 
 having taken the life of an innocent 
 fellow creature, which is only valued 
 by himself as it can be useful to her
 
 VARGAS. 153 
 
 whose cause you seek to defend. Of 
 Doiia Cornelia s absence from her fa- 
 ther's house I was ignorant until acci- 
 dentally informed of it a few days 
 ago. Upon hearing it I have flown 
 from the Pyrenees to the Sierra Mo- 
 rena to defend her reputation and my 
 own — to save her, if possible, from 
 the ministers of the demon upon 
 earth. — She is in the Inquisition!" 
 
 Meneses was seized with horror 
 and astonishment ; he stood pale and 
 stupified ; bursting out at length into 
 exclamations of " Great Heavens ! — 
 How can this be ! — What have I 
 done!" 
 
 He was roused into action by the 
 blood which had completely forsaken 
 the cheek of Vargas, and was flowing 
 abundantly from the wound in his 
 side. He had fainted, and Meneses 
 eagerly looked around where he 
 H 5
 
 154 VARGAS. 
 
 could find some water and procure 
 some assistance. The lad who had 
 been guiding Vargas had, upon the 
 commencement of the quarrel, run 
 back to the venta on the Peiia de 
 Alange, and he was now returning ac- 
 companied by several peasants. By 
 the assistance of these, Vargas was 
 conveyed to the venta, where he was 
 restored to himself, and his wound 
 bound up. In the mean time Me- 
 neses hastened to claim the hospitality 
 of the Conde de Alange for the 
 wounded man, and he returned with 
 a litter, and the cordial invitation of 
 the old Count to his castle. 
 
 The Conde de Alange but to in- 
 troduce the worthy Count to the 
 reader at the end of a chapter, would 
 be derogatory to his rank and charac- 
 ter. In truthj the Conde de Alange, 
 his family, and his castles, the Black
 
 VARGAS. 155 
 
 Moor and the White Moor, as they 
 were familiarly designated by the in- 
 habitants of the surrounding country, 
 as far as the two moors could be seen 
 — no trifling distance considering their 
 prodigious elevation — deserve a whole 
 chapter to themselves, and they shall 
 have it.
 
 156 VARGAS. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 What's in a name ? That which we call a rose 
 By any other name would smell as sweet. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 The Count of Alange was a noble 
 veteran, who, after having run a ca- 
 reer of glory under Charles the Fifth, 
 brought it to a termination under his 
 son, by retiring at once from war and 
 the world. A younger son of the 
 Marquis de Velada, with several bro- 
 thers, intercepting his prospect of 
 either title or wealth, at the age of 
 fifteen he commenced a search after 
 both, by joining the Emperor's disas- 
 terous expedition against Algiers, as a 
 volunteer. He was fortunate enough 
 to survive the hardships which accom-
 
 VARGAS. 157 
 
 panied that dreadful service, and by 
 his courage in supporting them re- 
 commended himself to the notice of 
 Charles. He afterwards engaged ac- 
 tively in almost all the subsequent en- 
 terprizes of his great master, always 
 displaying valour, and sometimes pro- 
 curing distinction. 
 
 In one of the short intervals of tran- 
 quillity which that ambitious Mo- 
 narch's reign afforded, Don Felipe 
 Davila (for his father, the Marquis, 
 with profound reverence for royalty, 
 had honoured his son with the name 
 of the heir apparent to the throne) 
 found time to go through his novitiate 
 of the ancient and honourable order 
 of Santiago de Compostella, and hav- 
 ing served on board the gallies for six 
 months, and submitted to the rules 
 and discipline of a convent for one 
 more, he became a Knight of Saint
 
 ] 3S VARGAS. 
 
 James of the Sword, as the order was 
 popularly called. The interest of his 
 kinsman, Luis Davila, one of Charles's 
 favourite generals, joined to his own 
 courage and good conduct, procured 
 him the commandery of Alange, an 
 encomienda of the order, which, though 
 not one of the richest of them, afforded 
 him a very comfortable revenue j to 
 which he added, shortly afterwards, the 
 title of Alange, and the domains ap- 
 pertaining thereunto, by marrying the 
 only surviving descendant of that an- 
 cient house. Dona Leonarda Pocati- 
 erra. This was the usual manner of 
 giving new life to an expiring title. 
 The re-establishment and preservation 
 of such an one was probably the prin- 
 cipal inducement to marry with Dofia 
 Leonarda, while with more certainty 
 we may pronounce that the title was 
 the only object which influenced Don 
 6
 
 VARGAS. 159 
 
 Felipe to espouse the Countess, for 
 she was possessed of few personal 
 charms, and she was of a certain age, 
 a very certain age, not the least doubt 
 existing of her having passed her forr 
 tieth year at the time of her marriage. 
 Although, however, the blood may 
 have moved but slowly in the veins of 
 the Countess of x\lange, yet that which 
 did circulate there was very blue; 
 for the uncastilian reader must be in- 
 formed, that according to a popular 
 phrase in Spain, the lapse of years is 
 supposed to give a cerulean hue to 
 noble blood. Many ages must pass 
 before the natural redness of the fluid 
 begins to alter ; but then every suc- 
 ceeding century gives a deeper tinge 
 of blue, until at last the happy repre- 
 sentative of an ancient family may 
 boast that he is of sangre azuL The 
 Countess of Alange was of blue blood j
 
 160 VARGAS. 
 
 but, with the exception of this advan- 
 tagCj and the title which she was al- 
 lowed to transfer, there was nothing 
 to render an alliance with her parti- 
 cularly desirable. She was fully sen- 
 sible of the honour she conferred upon 
 her husband^ and, in fact, considered 
 him only in the light of a necessary 
 link to prolong the chain of her gene- 
 alogy. 
 
 The domains attached to the earl- 
 dom of Alange consisted of a barely 
 inhabited tract of country, extending 
 in a circle round the rock and castle, 
 and on the borders of which stood the 
 town, over which the Count possessed 
 seignorial rights. In the town a large 
 house, in a ruinous state, commonly 
 called the palace, belonged to the fa- 
 mily, and here the Countess of Alange 
 had resided from the fourth year of 
 their marriage, which, not having been
 
 VARGAS. 161 
 
 blessed with any offspring, had failed 
 in the principal object for which she 
 had contracted it. Her disappoint- 
 ment was manifest ; her temper be- 
 came sour, and her haughtiness consi- 
 derably increased. This would have 
 been a dreadful state of things for the 
 unfortunate Count, had not her de- 
 votion heightened in exact proportion 
 with the increase of her other quali- 
 fications ; and, judging it criminal to 
 live any longer in the dissipation of a 
 court, she expressed her intention of 
 retiring to the palace of Alange with 
 her confessor. To this her husband 
 made not the slightest objection, and 
 they consequently had lived separate 
 for a considerable number of years. 
 
 When the Count became an elderly 
 man, and recollected that his wife was 
 a more elderly woman, he anticipated 
 no ill results from joining her retire-
 
 162 VARGAS. 
 
 ment. Time had worn out the poig- 
 nancy of the remembrance of her 
 former character, and he good-natured- 
 ly imagined that few dissensions could 
 occur to interrupt the peaceful tenor 
 of their declining days. A very short 
 probation convinced him of the fallacy 
 of this hope. He found her in a state 
 which promised any thing but quiet 
 to his future years. Indulged ill- 
 temper had grown to ungovernable 
 anger; and blind bigotry had magni- 
 fied her devotion into insane trans- 
 ports 5 her life was passed in an un- 
 bending haughtiness, frequently varied 
 by bursts of passion ; passing, for the 
 most part, from paroxysms of rage to 
 paroxysms of religion, and falling 
 from the excitation of both into the 
 sullenness of pride. 
 
 Infirm of mind enough to be priest- 
 ridden, she was unfortunately not suf-
 
 VARGAS, 163 
 
 ficiently infirm of body to be bed-rid- 
 den, or else the Count might have ma- 
 naged to enjoy as much quiet while 
 his Countess inhabited the family state 
 bed, as if she had already transferred 
 her residence to the family vault. But 
 while she continued to perambulate 
 the palace from the alcova to the ora- 
 tory, from the oratory to the corridor, 
 from the corridor to the sala, and 
 from the sala to the alcova, there was 
 no time or place that he could fancy 
 himself secure from the presence of 
 his genius of discord. In looking 
 around for the most eligible mode of 
 retreat, the Castle of Alange occurred 
 to his mind as a residence which held 
 out such inducements as decided his 
 plan. It was an ancient fortress abound- 
 ing in military remembrances — his 
 most productive source of happiness ; 
 it would be necessary for him to build
 
 164 VARGAS. 
 
 a residence for himself, the planning 
 of which he anticipated with the 
 greatest pleasure ; and, as the rock 
 itself supplied the material, the work 
 came within the limits of his fortune ; 
 these were positive advantages super- 
 added to the negative satisfaction of 
 being absent from his wife. 
 
 In executing his plan, the Count, 
 though literally, was not metaphori- 
 cally, building a chateau en Espagne ; 
 the happiness that he had anticipat- 
 ed proved to be the result of his 
 scheme. His spirits rose with his 
 walls, and he directed the operations 
 by which his new edifice was con- 
 structed with as much exhilaration as 
 he had formerly conducted those by 
 which other buildings were to be de- 
 stroyed. At length the fortress of 
 Alange, as the Count called it, to dis- 
 tinguish it from the ancient castle, to
 
 VARGAS. 165 
 
 which it was an appendage, was de- 
 clared to be in a state fit to receive its 
 noble owner, although this decision 
 may possibly be considered to have 
 been rather premature, since Don Fe- 
 lipe did not account it to be in a com- 
 plete state for four years afterwards, 
 during which period a number of work- 
 men were constantly employed upon 
 it ; but Doiia Leonarda is said to have 
 discharged a massive missal, with large 
 brass-clasped binding, at the person 
 of her husband, the night before the 
 work was discovered to be so far ad- 
 vanced, which, if it be true, may ren- 
 der the removal of the Count, at so 
 early a period, less to be wondered at. 
 Don Felipe Davila accordingly took 
 possession of his fortress with a re- 
 tinue sufficiently numerous for the 
 dignity as well as the service of his 
 house. This consisted of an alferez,
 
 166 VARGAS. 
 
 or standard-bearer, an escudero, or 
 squire, acting as gentleman usher, 
 chamberlain, and equerry, and a chap- 
 lain, whose dignity is certainly much 
 lowered by being thus misplaced in 
 the list. These were the superior class 
 of the establishment. Upon a step 
 below these were a herald and a cup- 
 bearer, who, with characteristic im- 
 portance, strictly observed the narrow 
 line of distinction which raised them 
 above nearly thirty other persons, who, 
 having been at some period, however 
 small, personal domestics to one mem- 
 ber of the family or another, were ne- 
 cessarily retained for the remainder of 
 their lives in idleness, at the board of 
 the head of the house. 
 
 In giving the reader some account 
 of the more important of these per- 
 sonages, I will not again be guilty of 
 so gross a want of respect to the cloth
 
 VARGAS. 167 
 
 and the character of father Cachafuto, 
 as I have been unintentionally led 
 into in the enumeration of their names. 
 I had forgotten father Cachafuto, 
 who certainly does not deserve this 
 neglect, being the very life of the so- 
 ciety at the Castle of Alange. He 
 was a good-natured round little man, a 
 good Catholic, a good priest, and a 
 good fellow ; for he believed every 
 thing, he absolved every thing, and 
 he eat and drank every thing. It may 
 not be unnecessary to account to the 
 reader for the cacophony of this re- 
 verend father's appellation. It is not 
 every body that has studied the Ro- 
 mish calendar sufficiently to be aware 
 that there is such a saint as Saint 
 Cachafuto. *" As, however, his name 
 had a very direct influence upon the 
 
 * Hispanice Cacafuto ; but this is too caco- 
 phonic for Englisii ears.
 
 168 VARGAS. 
 
 profession, and consequently the cha- 
 racter of the Count of Alange's chap- 
 lain, it is worth while to know how 
 he got it. 
 
 The custom of administering the 
 sacrament of baptism to infants, prin- 
 cipally at Whitsuntide, prevailed in 
 Spain at the period of our history, as 
 it had been originally established in 
 the primitive churches. The conse- 
 quence was, that the duty of the pa- 
 rochial pastors, at this season, was 
 usually considerably increased ; and it 
 frequently happened that they were 
 assisted upon these occasions by some 
 of their reverend brethren. This was 
 the case in a small town of Estrema- 
 dura, on the Whitsuntide of the year 
 on which the Count's chaplain had 
 been born. Santa Maria de los Do- 
 lores was the patron saint of the townj 
 and with an emulative zeal for the
 
 VARGAS. 169 
 
 honour of the protecting Virgin, the 
 greater part of the inhabitants pro- 
 posed to give her name to their chil- 
 dren, male and female. 
 
 The first two or three babes who 
 were brought to the font received the 
 sacred name, and the priest warmly 
 applauded the devotion of the parents 
 who had made so excellent a choice ; 
 but when another, and another, and 
 another claimed a similar distinction, 
 the holy father, who, not being of the 
 town, was not impressed in the same 
 pre-eminent degree with the particular 
 feeling towards this church of the 
 Virgin, began to remonstrate, and to 
 set forth the inconveniences that must 
 arise from such an indiscriminate use 
 of the same name in the same society. 
 His remonstrances were of no avail, 
 and he was obliged to send forth near 
 
 VOL. I. I
 
 170 VARGAS. 
 
 a score of young Marias, boys and 
 girls, into the world. 
 
 His patience, however, at length 
 became exhausted, and he held a loud 
 argument with a stout dame, the wife 
 of an innkeeper in the town, in the 
 course of which such irreverent obsti- 
 nacy was displayed by the mother as 
 raised the choler of the christener, 
 who having discovered the day on 
 which the child had been born, de- 
 termined to yield no more, but that 
 he should bear the name of the saint 
 whose festival the church celebrated 
 on that day. On reference to the 
 calendar, no less than three canonized 
 inhabitants of Heaven claimed the 
 day of the boy's birth : of these, the 
 least in degree, and the latest in date, 
 was San Cachafuto. It was certainly 
 ill-natured in the priest to select this
 
 VARGAS. 171 
 
 saint, when the softer names of San 
 Carpophoro and San Abundio, whose 
 feasts were upon the same day, pre- 
 sented all their euphony to his choice ; 
 but he was out of humour, and 
 thought that the stubborn dame de- 
 served no pity, and therefore, totally 
 disregarding her tears and remon- 
 strances, he dipped the squalling 
 urchin, and dubbing him Cachafuto, 
 redelivered him to the enraged mo- 
 ther.* 
 
 A slight knowledge of the Spanish 
 language will suggest to the reader 
 the unpleasant and ridiculous varia- 
 
 * For the truth of this circumstance there can, 
 of course, be no other authority than that of the 
 contemporary chronicle of this reverend father, 
 preserved in the archives of his native town ; but 
 its probabiHty is fully established by the coinci- 
 dence of an exactly similar event having taken 
 place in the present century, and within the au- 
 thor's knowledge. 
 
 I2
 
 172 VARGAS. 
 
 tions and diminutives of which this 
 name is susceptible ; and when the 
 general malice of schoolboys, and the 
 particular propensity of the Spaniards 
 to attach characteristic agnomena, are 
 considered, the mother's abhorrence 
 of her son's name will appear satisfac- 
 torily explained. Indeed she could 
 never be brought to mention it ; and 
 when in the infancy of the misnamed 
 child, it was necessary to use any 
 other designation for him than the 
 tender epithets which generally serve 
 the purposes of more formal names 
 with babies, she would make a hesitat- 
 ing pause, and, after a sigh, would 
 call him '* the Saint," meaning he that 
 bears the name of the unnamable 
 saint — an extensive ellipsis to be sure, 
 but it was very natural that she should 
 set over the horrid idea in as few 
 words as possible. This being re-
 
 VARGAS. ITS 
 
 peated, was imitated by the father, 
 and subsequently by their immediate 
 acquaintance, until at last the pre- 
 facing pause was dropped, and the 
 little fellow was familiarly addressed 
 as el Sojito. 
 
 The facility with which a nickname 
 is established is proverbial in all coun- 
 tries ; and although this appellation 
 had not the share of ridicule or oppro- 
 brium which would constitute exactly 
 a nickname, yet it partook of the na- 
 ture of one in this particular. What 
 had originally been his shame, very 
 soon became his glory : the little Ca- 
 chafuto was only known as the Saint 
 throughout the district ; and as the 
 etymology of his title was gradually 
 lost in the obscurity of time, he ac- 
 quired a certain sanctity from the 
 habitual adoption of the sacred epi- 
 thet. Great characters have owed
 
 i 74 VARGAS. 
 
 their rise to accidental causes ; and to 
 the Linseemliness of his name, so un- 
 willingly acquired, the little Cacha- 
 fiito was indebted for his future pro- 
 fession and prosperity. He would 
 probably have been initiated in the 
 canning of his father's art, or rather 
 his father's cunning arts, many and 
 various being the arts of an apt inn- 
 keeper, but the constant repetition of 
 " the Saint" as applied to her son, 
 engendered In the mother's brain an 
 ambition to have him really canon- 
 ized. Not that she actually expressed 
 the extent of her anticipations, but 
 she declared that she felt an internal 
 conviction, that he would in manhood 
 merit the appellation which he had 
 accidentally received as a boy. The 
 clerical profession was accordingly 
 chosen for him, to which an addition- 
 al inducement was held out by the
 
 VARGAS. 17^ 
 
 parental affection of a certain father 
 belonging to a neighbouring monas- 
 tery, who, being the keeper of the 
 dame's conscience, had become the 
 instructer of her son. By calling this 
 friar a certain father, the reader is 
 not to understand any uncertainty ot 
 parentage on the part of the inn- 
 keeper ; he, good man, had no doubts 
 upon the subject ; and although there 
 were gossips in Estremadura m those 
 days as well as in these, their report, 
 on a point of this kind, could tend very 
 little to exhibit the truth. 
 
 Young Cachafuto was transferred 
 from his legal father to his spiritual 
 one, and he received his education in 
 the monastery, where preparation and 
 noviciate being duly passed, he took 
 upon himself the vow, the frock, and 
 the cord. Amongst the merry so- 
 ciety of which he now formed a part,
 
 176 VARGAS. 
 
 there was a standing joke attached to 
 the young man, which, although it 
 certainly grew out of his name, yet 
 seemed to derive a mysterious pun- 
 gency from some unexpressed com- 
 comitant, and which, while it only 
 puzzled Cachafuto, grievously offend- 
 ed his patron. This offence being 
 often maliciously repeated, the reve- 
 rend father thought fit to remove its 
 cause, and he recommended his pro- 
 tegee to get himself transferred to the 
 order of Preachers, in which his duty 
 would afford him more extensive op- 
 portunities of seeing the world. Cac- 
 hafuto followed his recommendation, 
 and, after some years, the varying turns 
 of fortune made him domestic chap- 
 Iain, confessor, and companion, to 
 the Count of Alange. 
 
 His peculiar qualification in the lat- 
 ter character consisted in the liberal
 
 VARGAS. 177 
 
 manner in which he laid open the 
 acta sanctorum, the whole of which 
 he had stored in the magazines of his 
 memory. Not a saint nor a martyr 
 but possessed a niche in his mind ; 
 not a miracle, from the cure of a fever 
 to the conversion of an empire, but 
 he could detail every circumstance 
 connected with it. That he should 
 remember them all is wonderful 
 enough, without adding that he be- 
 lieved them all ; but father Cachafuto 
 was a simple-minded man, and not 
 only professed to believe, but placed 
 implicit faith in every miracle he had 
 ever heard of. The wonderful works 
 of the saints which he frequently re- 
 lated, were sometimes of a nature to 
 excite the mirth of the Count, and 
 sometimes his doubts ; but upon these 
 occasions, the logical father had an un- 
 answerable argument to fix his Lord's 
 I 5
 
 J 78 VARGAS. 
 
 wandering faith : for the Count, ever 
 since lie had become a knight of the 
 most honourable order of Santiago de 
 Compostella, had paid particular de- 
 votion to that saint : he had spelt 
 over the chronicles of the order till he 
 knew them by heart, and had even 
 extended his researches to the legend 
 of Saint James itself Here his study 
 of divinity ended ; but as far as it 
 went, it had produced his firm con- 
 viction of the truth of what he did 
 know. Whenever, therefore, the 
 Count received the relation of a mi- 
 racle from his zealous chaplain with a 
 smile, or an exclamation of incredu- 
 lity, Cachafuto would bring him to 
 reason with — " And is not that a 
 trifle, Sir, compared to the most won- 
 derful voyage of the ever-to-be-ve- 
 nerated apostle, Saint James, over the 
 vast seas, from Joppa to Oviedo, in a
 
 VARGAS. 1 79 
 
 little boat ipade of stone?" Such a 
 speech as this effectually silenced the 
 incredulous Count, or rather, to speak 
 more correctly, it generally had the 
 effect of directing the subject of dis- 
 course into his favourite channel, and 
 by inducing him to dilate upon the 
 fully acknowledged miracles of Saint 
 James, drew off his attention from the 
 less credible wonders, and afforded the 
 friar an excuse for not requiring his 
 assent to them. 
 
 At the time when the rencontre 
 mentioned in the last chapter took 
 place, there was an inmate of the 
 castle to whom it will be necessary to 
 introduce the reader. This was a 
 nephew of the Count's, the heir ap- 
 parent of the Marquis de Velada, a 
 handsome young man, who rendered 
 the person and manners of a high- 
 born gentleman ridiculous, by the re-
 
 ] 80 VARGAS. 
 
 finements of fashion, and the language 
 of conceit. Don Felix Davila was an 
 only and a spoiled child ; but he had 
 been blessed with a good disposition 
 and some natural talent, which the 
 early indulgence he met with was not 
 sufficient to counteract. At the age 
 of five-and-twenty he had gone through 
 the regular gradations of coxcombry. 
 He had originally been a lady's cox- 
 comb, and a reader of romances of 
 chivalry ; he had been a military cox- 
 comb, and served in the English Ar- 
 mada ; from which, having returned 
 safe and sound, he had become a dra- 
 matic and poetic coxcomb. 
 
 Having been educated at the uni- 
 versity of Alcala de Henares, he had 
 formed an acquaintance with the cele- 
 brated Lope de Vega, w^ho was a 
 short time his senior there. This ac- 
 quaintance had been renewed and ri-
 
 VARGAS. 181 
 
 pened into friendship in the disastrous 
 expedition in which they served to- 
 gether ; and to the example and sud- 
 den literary exaltation of his friend, 
 may be attributed young Davila's ex- 
 isting variety of coxcombry. His 
 conceit, though very great, was still 
 that of a gentleman, and of a well- 
 educated man, and therefore not in- 
 tolerable ; and as he was blessed with 
 good temper and good spirits, his 
 company was often entertaining, and 
 seldom offensive. 
 
 The cause of his " exile from the 
 only mundane mansion of the Muses," 
 as he called his absence from Madrid, 
 was the unfortunate result of an affair 
 of honour which he had had with the 
 Marquis of Tirapunto. Don Felix had 
 written a sonnet in praise of the Mar- 
 quis's sister, in which, amongst other 
 beauties, he extolled the size and shape 
 1
 
 IS2 VARGAS. 
 
 of her foot. In those days, to boast of 
 having seen a lady's foot amounted to 
 an assumption of the greatest famili- 
 arity. Two centuries have made a 
 vast alteration in Spanish notions upon 
 this point; for now-a-days the light 
 silk petticoat requires the assistance 
 of leaden weights to keep it a decent 
 depth below the knee of the Spanish 
 lady, leaving, not only the foot, but 
 the taper ancle, and even the graceful 
 swell by which it is immediately sur- 
 mounted, to court the admiring gaze 
 of the world. Don Felix's praise in- 
 ferred knowledge to the jealous feel- 
 ings of the Marquis, and he construed 
 the distich into a boast. The Mar- 
 quis's family honour being attacked 
 in so fundamental a point, he threw 
 himself in the way of Don Felix, who 
 being as gallant a Cavallero as he was 
 a gallant poet, scorned to plead the
 
 VARGAS. 183 
 
 poetarum Ucencia in mitigation of his 
 offence. Swords were drawn, and the 
 votary of Apollo passed his rapier 
 through the body of his adversary. 
 The wound might or might not prove 
 mortal, and subject Don Felix to un- 
 comfortable consequences ; he there- 
 fore judged it prudent to pay a visit 
 to his uncle in Estremadura, to avoid 
 the possible result of a representation 
 to the monarch. 
 
 At the time that Meneses claimed 
 the rights of hospitality for the un- 
 fortunate Vargas, these were the in- 
 habitants of the fortress of Alange, a 
 building so remarkable from its situa- 
 tion, and so well known throughout 
 the whole province, that it would 
 have been strange if it had not ac- 
 quired a popular agnomen in a nation 
 so fond of characterizing names in ge- 
 neral, of using comprehensive epithets,
 
 1 84 VARGAS. 
 
 and of making proverbial distinctions. 
 The old Moorish castle, said to have 
 been one of the earliest built after the 
 fatal battle of Xeres, had long been 
 chosen by the framers of imaginary 
 records as the scene of many legend- 
 ary horrors. Its time-coloured turrets 
 rose high above the thick-set trees 
 that partially clothed the acclivity 
 upon which they stood, and suggested 
 a sombre idea in perfect keeping with 
 the dark deeds that were said to have 
 been perpetrated within them. It re- 
 quired a darker epithet to characterize 
 this castle than the blackness, con- 
 veyed in the word Moor alone, ah<J 
 such an one was energetically sup-^ 
 plied by the word black itself. The 
 ancient castle of Alange was known 
 in all the country around by the name 
 of e/ Moro negro, for which, however, 
 the English word blackamoor is not a
 
 VARGAS. 185 
 
 translation, as it implies a jocularity 
 totally inconsistent with the supersti- 
 tious timidity with which the Estre- 
 meneans regarded the Moorish castle. 
 When the white face of the modern 
 appendage peeped over the trees by 
 which it was surrounded on the shelv- 
 ing side, it appeared doubly bright 
 from the contrast with its prototype, 
 and its novelty excited an idea of 
 quaintness enough to justify the ab- 
 surdity in the opposing epithet which 
 was given to it : it soon became as fa- 
 miliarly designated el Moro bianco, the 
 white Moor, as its Arabic ancestor 
 was the black Moor. 
 
 This chapter of Dramatis Personas 
 would be very incomplete if it were 
 to close without giving some account 
 of a very important character who re- 
 sided upon the Pena of Alange, though 
 not within the castle.
 
 186 VARGAS. 
 
 The Pena, or rock of Alange, has 
 ah'eacly been described as an enor- 
 mous wedge, the base of which was at 
 right angles with one of its sides. 
 The extreme end of the summit upon 
 which the Moors, black and white, 
 were situated, considerably overhung 
 the base, where the little river Pa- 
 lomas flowed. From the opposite 
 point of the summit, the descent to 
 the plain, though sufficiently steep to 
 prevent the possibility of a path, was 
 yet not quite precipitous, and was 
 covered with trees of the same nature 
 and size as those which clothed the 
 shelving surface of the Pena. At this 
 southern end, about fifty yards below 
 the highest ridge, there was a small 
 platform, upon which, as was fre- 
 quently the case in spots of difficult 
 and dangerous access, an ermita, or 
 little chapel, had been erected, dedi-
 
 VARGAS. 1 87 
 
 cated to Santiago (a most happy co- 
 incidence for the Count), with a cell 
 behind it for the residence of the 
 officiating priest. This cell had for 
 many years been occupied by a friar, 
 whose rigorous sanctity had filled the 
 country around with his fame. In- 
 deed, Father Lawrence was said to 
 have performed many miraculous cures 
 amongst the neighbouring peasants, 
 who had resorted to him when af- 
 flicted with illness ; and these, to- 
 gether with his frequent personal con- 
 tests with the enemy of mankind, of 
 Vv'hich he made no secret, his constant 
 flagellations, and austere mode of life, 
 were considered to hold out a certain 
 prospect of canonization upon his de- 
 cease ; and the happy inhabitants of 
 Alange calculated thus upon possess- 
 ing the advantages of his miraculous 
 interposition both while on earth and 
 when in heaven.
 
 188 VARGAS. 
 
 With the introduction of Father 
 Lawrence to the reader, closes this 
 chronicle of the Alange family, up to 
 the period when poor Vargas, lying 
 at the venta, exhausted by loss of 
 blood, received the invitation of the 
 old Count to proceed to his castle, 
 and with it ends the chapter.
 
 VARGAS. 189 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 The beast was sturdy, large, and tall, 
 With mouth of meal, and eyes of wall ; 
 I wouM say eye, for h* had but one. 
 As most agree, though some say none. 
 He was well stay'd, and in his gait 
 Preserved a grave majestic state; 
 At spur or switch no more he skipt, 
 Or mended pace than Spaniard whipt ; 
 And yet so fiery, he would bound 
 As if he griev'd to touch the ground ; 
 That Caesar's horse, who, as fame goes. 
 Had corns upon his feet and toes, 
 Was not by half so tender hoof't 
 Nor trod upon the ground so soft : 
 And as that beast would kneel and stoop 
 (Some write) to take his rider up. 
 So Hudibras his ('tis well known) 
 Would oft do so to set him down. 
 
 Hudibras. 
 
 Mine host of the venta had indulged 
 his imagination with an unrestrained 
 flight into the purse of the wounded
 
 1 90 VARGAS. 
 
 cavalier, from which, in the wanton- 
 ness of anticipated possession, he had 
 fancied himself drawing the last ducat; 
 and he was at odds with his conscience 
 as to the exact proportion which he 
 might, without endangering his own 
 soul, withhold from procuring masses 
 for the safety of the soul w^hich he 
 took it for granted was on the eve of 
 requiring them. The decision of this 
 ratio was, however, rendered unneces- 
 sary by the arrival of the litter from 
 the castle, by which event mine host 
 was made an example of the uncer- 
 tainty of human calculations. With 
 a calmness truly philosophic, he re- 
 conciled himself to his disappointment, 
 and this the more easily, because, like 
 an able general, the moment that he 
 found one manoeuvre frustrated, he 
 immediately framed a more feasible
 
 VARGAS. 191 
 
 plan, to which he gave up his whole 
 attention. 
 
 With the rapid glance, which is no 
 less necessary to an able innkeeper 
 than to an able general (to continue 
 the same simile), mine host had marked 
 even amidst the confusion of battle 
 the able muscular limbs of the mule 
 which had borne Vargas, and he had 
 equally noted the unwonted tractable- 
 ness which it evinced in obedience to 
 the recall which had issued from his 
 own lungs upon observing the flight 
 of the animals belonging to the com- 
 batants. As an ill-married man is al- 
 w^ays sure to heighten his misfortune 
 by comparing the happiness he sees 
 abroad with the misery he meets at 
 home, the ventero could not suppress 
 a sigh when he remembered the un- 
 manageable obstinacy and irritating 
 stubbornness of a big brute of the
 
 192 VARGAS. 
 
 same species that was the tenant of his 
 stable. What rendered the contrast 
 of manners more striking, was a cer- 
 tain resemblance of make, which, 
 though small, was still sufficient to 
 connect the image of the two creatures 
 in the mind of a muleteer. 
 
 With the innkeeper's sigh would 
 have ended his infraction of the tenth 
 commandment, but for a slight cir- 
 cum stance to which the ever busy 
 tempter of mankind gave the colour 
 of opportunity, knowing, perhaps, that 
 the morality of mine host was not 
 proof against that powerful bait. The 
 simple lad who had the charge of this 
 most desirable mule had run to the 
 venta upon the very commencement 
 of the fray, regardless of the animals, 
 which, upon suddenly losing their 
 riders, had set off in different direc- 
 tions. This amounted to nothing less
 
 VARGAS. 193 
 
 than considering the lives of others in 
 preference to the care of his own pro- 
 perty, which, in the ventero's opinion, 
 was a strong proof of mental incapa- 
 city ; and this proof was amply corro- 
 borated by the circumstance of the 
 boy's having afterwards gone in full 
 speed, not after his own mule, which, 
 as has been already mentioned, was 
 easily recovered by the innkeeper 
 himself, but after that of Don Diego 
 Meneses, which had no point of re- 
 semblance to his own. 
 
 Old Nick supplied a link of conca- 
 tenation between the lad's dullness and 
 the mule's distant resemblance to his 
 own ; and though his mind was occu- 
 pied with his more important plan on 
 the purse of Vargas, an instinctive im- 
 pulse induced him to retain the mule's 
 bridle until he had safely placed the 
 
 VOL. I. K
 
 194 VARGAS. 
 
 animal in a small shed behind the 
 venta, which had a strong padlock as 
 an appendage. Here it was secured, 
 and regaled with a measure of fodder, 
 which, being nearly double that which 
 was generally apportioned to the ani- 
 mals of travellers, rather indicated a 
 notion of property in the feeder, than 
 of kindness for the silly lad who was 
 scampering over the country in pur- 
 suit of another man's beast. 
 
 The ventero was not a man easily 
 to give up a prospect of advantage 
 which was open to him ; indeed, the 
 obstinate perseverance with which he 
 followed an object of gain, and the 
 obdurate nature which he evinced in 
 levelling his exactions upon travellers, 
 whether poor or rich, had operated 
 considerably in establishing the appel- 
 lation by which he was known. He 
 would, in the common course of things.
 
 VARGAS. 195 
 
 have been called the ventero of the 
 Pena de Alange. The Alange was 
 dropped, because la Pena, or the Rock, 
 was sufficient to designate that pecu- 
 liar spot all over the province; but 
 his facetious neighbours had also con- 
 trived to drop the definite article be- 
 fore the word that remained, and he 
 was commonlv called el "center o de 
 pena^ the innkeeper of rock, and 
 more commonly still, el maestre depena^ 
 which, by leaving out all notice of the 
 inn of which he was master, fixed the 
 stony quality more decidedly upon 
 himself Without regarding the ety- 
 mology of his title, I shall designate 
 him in future by a simple translation 
 of his most common appellation, call- 
 ing him Master Rock, 
 
 The litter which contained the 
 wounded Vargas was slowly winding 
 up the steep path which led to the 
 
 £2
 
 1 96 VARGAS. 
 
 Castle, when three men arrived at the 
 venta with Don Diego's mule, which, 
 in the wildness of unaccustomed li- 
 berty, had led them a dance of several 
 miles. The owner of Vargas's mule 
 was one of these; he had set off alone 
 to secure the animal, but had been 
 joined very early in the pursuit by a 
 couple of muleteers from the venta, 
 and, by their united exertions, they 
 had at length attained their object. 
 They were occupied in audible par- 
 lance ; the boy loudly vociferating his 
 regrets at having followed the wrong 
 mule, and his companions as loudly 
 jeering his stupidity. 
 
 At the venta the lad demanded the 
 restitution of his own beast, and the 
 payment of the post. Before consent- 
 ing to either, Master Rock advised 
 him to refresh himself with a draught 
 of wine or a cup of aguardiente. The
 
 VARGAS. 197 
 
 boy refused the brandy ; but with a 
 doubting and a wondering look, he 
 signified his willingness to accept of 
 the draught of wine, which, coming 
 from Master Rock, was like water 
 from a stone. The mystery was, how- 
 ever, soon cleared up ; for, after some 
 altercation about the money due, 
 which was set at rest by Master Rock's 
 declaring that the Cavallero had been 
 taken up to the Castle, and had died 
 on the road ; the lad was desired to 
 take his mule, which he was glad 
 to get rid of for the trouble it had 
 cost in catching. 
 
 In the stable, the only animal that 
 presented itself was Master Rock's 
 unmanageable beast, which, whatever 
 resemblance it might have borne to the 
 other in the opinion of the ventero, was 
 shockingly dissimilar in the eye of the 
 boy. The saddle and bi'idle, indeed,
 
 198 VARGAS. 
 
 were the same ; there was no mistak- 
 ing the treble incrustation of rust upon 
 the immense iron box stirrups, nor the 
 distinguishing tone of the jingling 
 bells that decorated the throat-lash, 
 and gave forth their music in unison 
 with the pricking of the animal's ears. 
 Loud exclamation and violent remon- 
 strance from the boy produced cor- 
 responding vociferations from Master 
 Rock and the muleteers, who, having 
 the cue to make the poor fellow their 
 butt, joined their landlord for their 
 amusement. 
 
 " I tell thee, youngster," said the 
 master, " this is the beast that we 
 took upon the plain as thine, and a 
 precious job by Santiago we had on't; 
 thy chase is nothing to our battle ; the 
 wasting of thy breath an't to be com- 
 pared to the works of our boldness ; 
 I'd sooner fight fifty Englishmen with
 
 VARGAS. 1 99 
 
 my single toledo against their half 
 hundred points, than such a brute as 
 thy mule with his two heels." 
 
 " Thou liest, Master Rock^ an ever 
 Spaniard lied ; our Castanero never 
 flung foot in his life ; an yon brute 
 kicked thee 'tis an unnatural brute 
 to kick its kin, and I'll have none 
 on't. They say that he that went 
 gadding to Seville lost his saddle,* 
 but by St. Michael I have lost my 
 beast." 
 
 " What talkest thou of saddle?'' re- 
 torted Master Rock ; " thou ravest, 
 young mule-catcher. If there be fault, 
 'tis thine own fault, to follow the tail 
 of another man's beast, and let thine 
 own have its head ; rail at thyself, not 
 at me, man — put the saddle on the 
 right horse."t 
 
 * Quien fue a Sevilla perdio su silla. Prov. 
 f La silla al cavallo que le toca. Prov.
 
 200 VARGAS. 
 
 " Put the saddle on the right mule^ 
 you beast-stealing son of St. Satan/' 
 echoed his adversary — his habitual use 
 of the word saint upon all energetic 
 occasions having betrayed him into 
 this irreverend anomaly. The literal 
 application of Master Rock's own pro- 
 verb had nearly excited a diversion in 
 his favour^ by directing, for a moment, 
 the current of the muleteers' mirth 
 against their leader ; but Master Rock 
 perceived the turn of the tide while it 
 yet flowed ; and, seeing the danger of 
 any further parlance, he seized hold 
 of the lad, and, in the twinkling of an 
 eye, perched him upon the back of the 
 enormous beast, which, during the 
 dispute, had been taken out of the 
 stable. 
 
 A word from Master Rock set the 
 mule in motion at a pace which, 
 though rapid, did not exceed a stately
 
 VARGAS. 201 
 
 powerful walk ; while the enraged 
 rider, throwing his body backwards 
 with all his force, his legs being 
 stretched proportionably forwards and 
 set stiffly at right angles wath each 
 other, endeavoured, but in vain, to 
 make some impression upon a mouth 
 which was much harder than the iron 
 which it contained. In this situation, 
 when beheld from the rear by the 
 shouting muleteers who followed, the 
 poor, tall, thin, powerless fellow, clasp- 
 ing with his straight legs the vast 
 round body under him, could only be 
 compared to a pair of compasses stuck 
 astride upon a telescope. 
 
 " A hundred thousand devils seize 
 on the hell- born brute, he's walking 
 away with me." 
 
 A shout of laughter from his pur- 
 suers was caused by this exclamation. 
 
 " May the devil walk away with 
 K 5
 
 202 VARGAS. 
 
 you all as strongly and a little quicker, 
 when he once gets hold of you," roared 
 out the unhappy lad, as he was carried 
 away from them by this mammoth of 
 a mule. 
 
 His ineffectual endeavours to guide 
 and restrain the animal were still 
 audible when he was beyond their 
 sight; for the short twilight of a 
 southern region had been unobserved, 
 and night had crept in upon them un- 
 awares. 
 
 The muleteers, who had joined with 
 Master Rock in his practical joke upon 
 the poor boy, were venders of the 
 common Catalan wine, which gene- 
 rally found a very ready sale in the 
 southern provinces of Spain. The 
 mode of conveying this commodity 
 was, and still is, in pigs' skins, called 
 Borrachas, which are very imperfectly 
 prepared, and preserve the form of the
 
 VARGAS. 203 
 
 living animal, with the exception of 
 the head, of which there remains no- 
 thing ; and the legs, which, being cut 
 off at the first joint present the stumps, 
 properly sewed up, to afford additional 
 corners for the reception of the liquid. 
 Detestable, indeed, is the flavour which 
 these animal casks impart to the sorry 
 libation of which they are the repo- 
 sitory. To an unaccustomed palate, 
 it has that peculiarly offensive pro- 
 perty of making itself felt at the roof 
 of the mouth like woolly mutton, which 
 possesses the additional recommenda- 
 tion of being mawkishly cold. Such 
 as it is, however, it is very well re- 
 lished by the lower classes in Estre- 
 madura, Murcia, &c. and satisfactorily 
 relieves the thirst of the labourer, or 
 moistens the large onion which, with 
 a crust and a bunch of grapes, consti- 
 tutes his principal repast.
 
 204 VARGAS. 
 
 The two muleteers in question were 
 part of a company who had been im- 
 peded in their mercantile journey, by 
 misfortunes incident to the road. The 
 lameness of one of their animals, and 
 the bare feet of two others, had obliged 
 them to deposit the burdens which 
 they had borne at the venta de Alange ; 
 and two of the band were left in charge 
 of the merchandize, whilst the others 
 proceeded to the neighbouring town 
 to remedy the evils. The itinerant 
 wine-merchants had in vain endea- 
 voured to strike a bargain with Master 
 Rock ; but the hardness of his terms, 
 and' the impenetrability of his deter- 
 mination, had hitherto prevented all 
 hopes of arrangement. The success 
 of his scheme upon the mule, and the 
 advantage he expected to derive from 
 it, had, however, the effect of opening 
 his heart in an unusual degree. The 
 2
 
 VARGAS. 205 
 
 muleteers had also laughed themselves 
 into peculiarly good-humour, such as 
 afforded a reasonable hope of any pos- 
 sible concession on their parts. With 
 this mutually favourable disposition^ 
 upon their return to the venta, the 
 opposite parties to the proposed con- 
 tract proceeded to a small loft where 
 the borrachas'had been placed for se- 
 curity, there to discuss by the light of 
 a twist of cotton, floating in a little 
 pan of oil/ the important point of who 
 should concede the single quarto 
 which divided the price asked, from 
 that offered. 
 
 While this consultation was going 
 forward, or, in their own phrase, while 
 they were plucking the turkey,* the 
 lad who had made so unwilling an ex- 
 change, was setting his wits to work 
 
 * Pelando la pava. Proverbial expression.
 
 206 VARGAS. 
 
 for the recovery of his own mule. 
 His wits were not of that incapable 
 kind w^hich Master Rock had calcu- 
 lated upon, as that able politician 
 might have discovered sooner but for 
 the interference of his two guests, 
 who, by joining in the pursuit of the 
 runaway animals, completely frustrated 
 the well-arranged scheme which had 
 influenced the boy in the choice of his 
 object in the chase. If the mule which 
 Vargas had rode was more valuable 
 than Master Rock's iron beast, that 
 which belonged to Meneses was worth 
 both put together. A short survey 
 had sufficed fully to establish the rela- 
 tive value of the two animals in the 
 mind of the boy ; and when he ob- 
 served the beautiful managed riding 
 mule of the Valencian gentleman, gal- 
 loping off in the direction of his own
 
 VARGAS. 207 
 
 woods, he unhesitatingly followed this 
 beast, leaving his own to its fate. 
 Whether he sincerely endeavoured to 
 catch it or not, it would be difficult to 
 say ; but his stupidity was established 
 in the opinion of the muleteers, by 
 divers and sundry escapes which the 
 animal made from his very grasp 5 and, 
 it is highly probable, if his companions 
 had given over the pursuit, that nei- 
 ther mule nor boy would have been 
 heard of at Alange again. 
 
 The boy's disappointment, therefore, 
 increased his anger, and sharpened his 
 wits. After the impotent violence of 
 his rage had worn itself out, he consi- 
 dered that cunning was better than 
 strength j* and, having succeeded in 
 inverting the direction of his mule's 
 head, he allowed the animal to walk 
 
 ♦ Mas vale maiia que fuerza. Prov.
 
 208 VARGAS. 
 
 away with him back again, without 
 exerting his unavailing force to at- 
 tempt to restrain it. In a short time 
 he found himself at the stable door of 
 the venta de Alanje, where the brute 
 sounded a demand for admittance to 
 his accustomed habitation, by a full 
 toned bray. 
 
 The sound was as well known to 
 Master Rock as ever bugle call was to 
 the experienced ear of a warder, and 
 it happened to fall upon the inn- 
 keeper's auditory nerve at the moment 
 that he was pouring a libation to the 
 consummated contract, to complete 
 which, he had been induced to give 
 an ochavo above his original offer, the 
 muleteers conceding a like sum in 
 their demand. The oozing pigskin 
 had just begun to give forth its ruby 
 blood from an orifice in one of its pro- 
 jecting limbs, when the echoing yell
 
 VARGAS. 209 
 
 made him grasp the spout that he was 
 in the act of gently milking. 
 
 " By the white horse of Santiago 
 that's the voice of Bruto I" 
 
 " Thou should'st swear by the black 
 horse of the Bishop of Jaen when the 
 oath is in the service of Bruto, mas- 
 ter,*' said one of his hearers. 
 
 Master Rock continued the nervous 
 clench of his fist upon the spout of his 
 pigskin, until a second intonation of 
 the same kind called him into action. 
 Tying up the pig's leg with great ra- 
 pidity, which the careful vintner yet 
 rendered quite consistent with secu- 
 rity, he was about to descend imme- 
 diately ; but recollecting at the door 
 the old proverb, that a tapped cask is 
 soon empty, he bethought him that 
 having made a hole in his borracha, he 
 might, perhaps, not find it so full as 
 he left it ; he therefore returned, and.
 
 210 VARGAS. 
 
 placing his purchase upon his shoul- 
 der, he proceeded to the stable with 
 what haste his burthen would let 
 him. 
 
 In the mean time the boy had 
 jumped from the mule, and entering 
 the stable without ceremony, perceived 
 by the light of the moon, which he 
 admitted through the great gate as he 
 unfolded it, not his own animal, but 
 what gave him infinitely greater satis- 
 faction, the beast which he had fol- 
 lowed so far and so fruitlessly. To 
 have altered the saddle and bridle, 
 and led forth his new exchange could 
 have been effected in a much shorter 
 period than that in which it was actu- 
 ally performed, had not the respondent 
 voice of Meneses' mule been loudly 
 raised to greet the arriving animal ; 
 and the echoing sounds operated upon 
 the nerves of the trembling boy like
 
 VARGAS. 211 
 
 the report of the cannon upon a young 
 soldier who is employed to dig a 
 trench between two opposing batte- 
 ries. Fearing alike the heels and the 
 conversation of the animals, the lad 
 found more difficulty than usual in 
 changing the bridle, which, however, 
 he succeeded at length in doing, leav- 
 ing Master Rock's brute at perfect 
 liberty ; and no sooner was the saddle 
 removed from his back, than he testi- 
 fied his sense of freedom, by rolling 
 luxuriously in the thick lair of rotten 
 straw, more like a dunghill than a 
 litter, which covered the bottom of 
 the stable. 
 
 While he was in this act, and the 
 boy was labouring under the heavy 
 weight of the saddle which he was 
 about to place upon the other mule's 
 back. Master Rock made his appear- 
 ance at the door, loaded also, for the
 
 212 VARGAS. 
 
 reiterated braying of the animals had 
 so confused and agitated him, that he 
 had found neither thought nor time 
 to place his purchase in security. At 
 the sound of his first oath, which, if it 
 was not loud enough, was at least 
 coarse enough to claim some analogy 
 with the language which had brought 
 him there, the lad flung the saddle be- 
 fore him as he advanced ; and^ so 
 judiciously was it cast, that Master 
 Rock measured his length over it, still 
 clinging with most providential tena- 
 city to his swelling pigskin; for his 
 head happened to fall within a few 
 inches of the heels of Bruto, who, hav- 
 ing sufficiently regaled himself by roll- 
 ing and stretching his terrific limbs, 
 was just about to recover his natural 
 quadrupedal attitude. The energetic 
 plunges which he made for this pur- 
 pose must inevitably have reached
 
 VARGAS. 213 
 
 the scull of Master Rock, which, 
 hard as it was, could hardly have re- 
 sisted such a thundering attack, but 
 they were fortunately intercepted by 
 the skin of the defunct pig, on which 
 every plunge produced a dreadful 
 wound, and an instantaneous haemor- 
 rhage. 
 
 The miserable Master Rock would, 
 I believe^ have been contented that 
 the flood with which he was deluged 
 had been his own blood, to have saved 
 the discharge from his pigskin. In 
 deep affliction he in vain attempted to 
 staunch the flowing wounds of the 
 carcase that was fast shrinking, while 
 with a rage that scarcely left him the 
 power of utterance, he raved out curses 
 upon the villainous thief, who, never- 
 theless, had made the most of the 
 landlord's distress, by springing upon
 
 214 VARGAS. 
 
 his prize barebacked, and galloping 
 off at the mule's full pace. 
 
 Master Rock was sensible of the 
 necessity of choosing between the two 
 evils which presented themselves to 
 him, but he was at a loss to determine 
 which ran away fastest, the mule or 
 the wine ; and before this essential 
 point was settled in his mind, they 
 had both run away together; the echos 
 of the hoof were lost in the distance, 
 and the wine was lost in the filth of the 
 stable.
 
 VARGAS. 21 5 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Oh ! we have torn the veil asunder, 
 The veil our inward features wore; 
 
 We've learnt to know we love, and wonder 
 To think our souls so blind before. 
 
 From the Spanish. 
 
 While I have been introducing 
 Master Rock to my reader, poor Var- 
 gas has been kindly received at the 
 White Moor, where, having been 
 placed under the care of Father Ca- 
 chafuto, that reverend friar had ad- 
 ministered a certain unction, and, fur- 
 ther, a certain potion, all which he 
 declared merely to be forms of no 
 value in themselves ; for that, if the 
 wounded man was to live, the cure 
 would take place in consequence of 
 the miraculous intervention of one or
 
 2 I 6 VARGAS. 
 
 more of certain saints whose names 
 he set forth at full length, together 
 with a particular account of some of 
 the more important miracles for which 
 they had obtained canonization. 
 
 In consequence of the potion, or 
 the blessing, left by father Cachafuto, 
 Vargas passed a tranquil night, and in 
 the morning was free from fever ; his 
 wound, indeed, was very painful, but 
 the state of his general health con- 
 vinced him that there was no danger 
 to apprehend ; and, indeed, it was a 
 wound which, in our days, would 
 scarcely have received commiseration. 
 At an early hour the medical chaplain 
 was by his bed-side, and upon finding 
 the state of his patient, he launched 
 forth in enthusiastic veneration of the 
 great Santiago, who, being no less a 
 saint than an apostle, and having, 
 moreover, conducted the Christian
 
 VARGAS. 217 
 
 armies of Spain to battle, had never- 
 theless condescended to become the 
 particular medium of a blessing upon 
 his poor endeavours to restore health 
 to the fortunate being whom he had 
 taken under his care. 
 
 Vargas could scarcely refrain from 
 smiling as he asked what connexion 
 his amended health could have with 
 the miracles of Santiago. 
 
 " My son," said Cachafuto, " you 
 are yet ignorant of the favour which 
 you have received ; but know that I, 
 an unworthy brother of the order of 
 Preachers, addressed most particular 
 orisons to the blessed Santiago last 
 night for your recovery. Having 
 prayed to be directed in my choice of 
 a mediating saint, the chronicle of 
 the glorious Santiago fell (assuredly 
 by peculiar direction) into my hands. 
 I knew, my brother, that the lesser 
 
 VOL. I. L
 
 218 VARGAS. 
 
 ]}ower is included in the greater, and 
 that the saint that could sail from 
 Joppa to Oviedo in a stone barge 
 could heal the wound of a suffering 
 sinner. And that that most astound- 
 ing miracle was performed by the said 
 apostolical saint, is beyond all shadow 
 of doubt, for it came to pass " 
 
 " With the history of Santiago I 
 am well acquainted, good father," said 
 Vargas, interrupting him. 
 
 " So much the better, my son ; 
 then you will recollect that it came to 
 pass, that, having arrived at Braga, 
 the blessed son of Zebedee *' 
 
 *' 1 should be much bounden to 
 you, holy father," said Vargas, " if 
 you would defer the information, or 
 refreshing of my memory, as to the 
 miracles of Santiago, until I had 
 holden some conference with Don 
 Diego Meneses, my adversary in the 
 
 3
 
 VARGAS. 219 
 
 rencontre of yesterday, if he be still 
 in this castle, as I doubt not he is." 
 
 " Thy reading of the chronicle of 
 8antiago,my sonjif thou hastread it,has 
 profited thee but little — sad depravity ! 
 to prefer the conversation of a bearer 
 of points and ribands to the consola- 
 tion of the frock and the cord — horrid 
 perversion ! to turn from the contem- 
 plation of the miraculous Santiago, 
 who, having landed in Galicia, ar- 
 rived at Braga, where " 
 
 " Reverend father," said Vargas, 
 emphatically, " my business with Don 
 Diego Meneses is one on which de- 
 pends life and death ; so, I pray you, 
 let the gentleman be called to me 
 forthwith." 
 
 '« The breath of Don Diego Me- 
 neses cannot remedy the evil that his 
 blade has caused," resumed the friar, 
 thinking that Vargas alluded to his 
 L 2
 
 220 VARGAS. 
 
 own life, which had run such a risk ; 
 " but the ever-to-be-venerated San- 
 tiago can, by his influence, remedy 
 every evil which may befall a mortal. 
 I perceive, my brother, that you have 
 much need of holy counsel." 
 
 But I will not favour the reader 
 with father Cachafuto*s sermon, lest 
 he should not be blessed with Vargas's 
 patience. That valuable virtue had 
 almost forsaken him, and the friar had 
 nearly succeeded in producing, by his 
 obstinate devotion, the fever which 
 his potion had allayed, when the pa- 
 tient was relieved by the entrance of 
 Meneses himself, who brought a sum- 
 mons to Cachafuto to attend the 
 Count. The friar, therefore, reluct- 
 antly retired, leaving an admonitory 
 promise of a future commentary upon 
 the legend of Santiago. 
 
 When Vargas and Meneses were
 
 VARGAS. 221 
 
 left alone, a mutual explanation took 
 place between them. Meneses had 
 little more to say than what he had 
 already told Vargas previous to the 
 contest of the day before. He had 
 arrived at the house of the Marquis 
 de Bohorquia immediately after the 
 disappearance of his daughter, Doila 
 Cornelia, which had taken place at 
 the same time with the departure of 
 Vargas. This coincidence, together 
 with several suspicious circumstances, 
 which were discovered to have hap- 
 pened previously, seemed to render it 
 quite certain that Vargas was the 
 author and companion of Dona Cor- 
 nelia's flight. Every means had been 
 taken to trace them, but all were 
 without success. Meneses had as- 
 sisted very actively in the search, and 
 had undertaken a journey to Alange 
 in consequence of some slight proba-
 
 222 VARGAS. 
 
 bility which had been suggested, that 
 the fugitives might have chosen this 
 secluded spot as their hiding-place. 
 
 The information of Don Diego went 
 not beyond this : that which Vargas 
 possessed and afforded was of a more 
 extensive and interesting nature. He 
 felt that he could but assist Cornelia 
 by openly communicating to Meneses 
 the situation in which he stood, and 
 he accordingly gave him a brief ac- 
 count of his whole life. That this 
 may be done more satisfactorily to 
 the reader^, and more conveniently to 
 myself, I shall use the privilege of 
 transposing Vargas's narrative from 
 the first person into the third, and 
 take the detail of it into my own 
 hands. 
 
 The Marquis of Bohorquia was a 
 nobleman of considerable influence at 
 Seville, where he had married, and
 
 VARGAS. 2'IS 
 
 become the father of one child, a 
 daughter, immediately after whose 
 birth his wife expired. Some montlis 
 after this event, the Marquis took un- 
 der his protection a male child, about 
 three years old, whom he admitted 
 into his nursery upon the footing of 
 an equal with the little Cornelia. 
 The history which the Marquis gave of 
 this child to those to whom he thought 
 it necessary to account for his ap- 
 pearance, was simply that he was the 
 offspring of noble parents whose no- 
 bility had outlived their wealth, and 
 that having been rendered a complete 
 orphan by the death of his father un- 
 der the walls of Pefion de Velez, the 
 conquest of which was the subject of 
 conversation at the time, he had been 
 induced, from old friendship, to take 
 the desolate child, and to give it an
 
 224 VARGAS. 
 
 education more suitable to his birth 
 than to his prospects. 
 
 The little stranger, whom the Mar- 
 quis called Bartolome Vargas, was 
 soon domesticated in the family. He 
 grew up to be the companion and 
 playmate of Cornelia, and when they 
 became old enough to ape the man- 
 ners of maturer age, her friend and 
 counsellor. No distinction whatever 
 was made between them by the Mar- 
 quis. If Cornelia was more fondled 
 than young Vargas, the difference 
 was not greater than that which her 
 sex and her beauty might claim. 
 
 When Vargas was sufficiently ad- 
 vanced in years to make it necessary 
 to direct his education into some par- 
 ticular channel, the church was chosen 
 for him by the Marquis; and with 
 that view he was admitted into the
 
 VARGAS* 225 
 
 college at Seville, where he was 
 brought up to enter into holy orders. 
 Here he developed an acute mind 
 and a great thirst after knowledge, 
 so much so that it was predicted by 
 his reverend tutors that he would be- 
 come a shining pillar in the church, 
 and an honour to their institution. 
 The information which he found such 
 pleasure in acquiring he was equally 
 delighted in imparting to his dear little 
 Cornelia ; so that, by his lessons, 
 which were regularly transferred as 
 they were received, Cornelia Bohor- 
 quia acquired a portion of learning 
 not only infinitely greater than that 
 possessed by her sex in general, but 
 even far superior to that which was, 
 at the time, attained by even the 
 best educated members of society in 
 Spain. 
 
 Although the knowledge thus ob- 
 L 5
 
 226 VARGAS. 
 
 tained was confined to the Latin Ian- 
 guage, and a smattering of the Greek, 
 together with the study of theology 
 according to the Romish church, yet 
 the great advantage that Cornelia de- 
 rived from it was the habit of reasoning 
 which was established in her mind at 
 a very early period of life, and which 
 had considerable influence in the for- 
 mation of her character. A natural 
 consequence of the manner in which 
 she acquired these attainments was, 
 that Vargas insensibly obtained a 
 powerful empire over her mind. She 
 looked up to him as the source of all 
 her information, and the deference 
 which this produced towards him was 
 very soon mingled with a conviction 
 that she looked up to him as the 
 source of all her happiness. The ten- 
 der bosom of an Andalucian maid is 
 not particularly strong in resisting the
 
 VARGAS. 227 
 
 insidious attacks of the soft passion, 
 and the less susceptible hearts of the 
 fair inhabitants of colder regions have 
 not been found proof against the con- 
 tinued intercourse of affectionate at- 
 tentions, when assisted by the con- 
 stant arguments of gratitude within. 
 
 Time passed^, and Vargas attained 
 his twentieth year. Cornelia was in 
 her seventeenth, and experienced the 
 most lively affection for him. She 
 loved, and like an Andalucian, loved 
 ardently. She felt all the anxiety, all 
 the nervous jealousy of an Andalucian 
 passion ; but the cultivation which 
 her mind had received had purified 
 the flame that it had kindled in her 
 heart, while the strength of tone which 
 her character had assumed, enabled 
 her at once to rectify the irregularities 
 of her affection, and to command her 
 feelings.
 
 228 VARGAS. 
 
 Vargas, though perhaps as affec- 
 tionately attached to Cornelia as she 
 was to him, had not become awakened 
 to a knowledge of his passion. When 
 his mind had somewhat matured, and 
 he began to investigate more closely 
 the theological questions which were 
 proposed in the schools for his infor- 
 mation, he found nothing to satisfy 
 the appetite for truth which he had 
 acquired. The deeper he went the 
 greater darkness environed him. Tome 
 after tome did he displace from its 
 shelf, and carefully did he wade 
 through the appalling solidity of each. 
 He left off, however, in greater con- 
 fusion than he began, and at length 
 got so completely entangled in the 
 maze of traditionary tenets, and so 
 disgusted with the inconsistencies of 
 papal infallibility, that he lost the 
 guiding star which had hitherto di-
 
 VARGAS. 229 
 
 rected him in his anxious search after 
 truth, and, closing his eyes in impa- 
 tience, he gave up at once his belief 
 and his desire of believing. 
 
 The nature of this investigation had 
 abstracted him too much to allow him 
 to perceive the state of his own feel- 
 ings with respect to Cornelia. He 
 felt, indeed, that her conversation and 
 attentions afforded him more satisfac- 
 tion than any thing else in the world, 
 except his studies, and his application 
 to these prevented him from remark- 
 ing the progress of any other feelings. 
 Nothing whatever had occurred to 
 call forth the dormant energies of his 
 passion. The even tenor of his life was 
 unvaried by any sudden burst of action, 
 or any extraordinary occurrences. The 
 Marquis had become Sibeato, or devotee, 
 andpassedthegreaterportionof histime 
 in the company of his most intimate 
 friend, the Archbishop of Seville, and
 
 230 VARGAS. 
 
 of some of the higher dignitaries of the 
 cathedral church ; for, as is frequently 
 the case, his pride had increased with 
 his devotion, and his aristocratic prin- 
 ciples guided him even in his inter- 
 course with divines. The influence 
 of the Marquis's character upon the 
 domestic arrangements of his family 
 was such as to keep every member of 
 it in a seclusion extremely favourable 
 to the growth of his daughter's pas- 
 sion, and at the same time affording 
 little opportunity of calling forth the 
 feelings of Vargas. 
 
 It was only a short time before the 
 period appointed for his taking orders 
 that Vargas, in despair and infidelity, 
 threw^ by his books and his breviary. 
 His mind had, until then, been so 
 fully occupied, so anxiously engaged, 
 even from the earliest development of 
 of his reason, that there had been no 
 room for the admission of other spe»
 
 VARGAS. 231 
 
 dilations ; there had been no vacancy 
 for the reception of idle curiosity, no 
 field for the flights of imagination, no 
 time for the investigation of the heart. 
 When he wildly and impatiently threw 
 down the barrier of faith which had 
 dammed up the current of his thoughts, 
 the vacuum that took place in his 
 mind was rapidly filled up by a hete- 
 rogeneous mass of interesting ideas. 
 The most lively of these suggested 
 the question — Who am I ? and excited 
 his astonishment that it had not oc- 
 curred frequently and importunately 
 before. An indistinct connexion 
 brought another question to his mind : 
 Why must I become a churchman ? 
 Many new and strange suggestions 
 followed, but these two questions so 
 far exceeded in interest all the other 
 matter of his thoughts, that they be- 
 came the sole object of them.
 
 232 VARGAS. 
 
 Amidst the wreck of all just rea- 
 soning upon the subject of religion, 
 there was a naturally good principle of 
 morality in him, to which he instinctive- 
 ly adhered. In throwing off the bridle 
 of religion he did not take upon himself 
 the yoke of the spirit of evil, neither 
 was he content to wear the cloak of 
 hypocrisy, nor to become a teacher of 
 those tenets which he himself reject- 
 ed. He determined not to become a 
 priest, and this determination, to- 
 gether with an anxious desire to know 
 his origin, led him to the closet of the 
 Marquis of Bohorquia. 
 
 Vargas began by requesting infor- 
 mation concerning his parents, at 
 which the Marquis first smiled, and 
 afterwards reproved him for his rest- 
 less curiosity. He pointed out to him 
 that he had not raised hopes by his 
 education which he had disappointed
 
 VARGAS. 233 
 
 in his manhood : that in becoming a 
 minister of the Gospel he would be at 
 once upon an equality with the noblest 
 families, branches from which so con- 
 stantly took upon themselves the frock 
 and the cowl ; and that through the 
 friendship of his most illustrious and 
 most reverend father the Archbishop 
 of Seville, who had already shown 
 much kindness towards him, he might 
 look forward to enjoy even the high- 
 est dignities of the hierarchy. 
 
 This turn of the conversation im- 
 mediately introduced the resolution 
 which Vargas had formed of declining 
 to enter into the clerical profession, 
 which being delivered mildly, but 
 firmly, by the undismayed young man, 
 struck the Marquis dumb with asto- 
 nishment. His astonishment was 
 quickly succeeded by indignation and 
 anger, which rose to such violence.
 
 2S4 VAllGAS. 
 
 that Vargas, perceiving that his argu- 
 ments could make no impression, and 
 indeed could not be heard, remained 
 silent under a storm of imprecations, 
 denunciations, and upbraidings. 
 
 Such a conference was not likely to 
 lead to any satisfactory arrangement, 
 and Vargas left the Marquis, having 
 borne, without murmuring, the whole 
 weight of his displeasure. An inter- 
 val of a few hours had apparently 
 calmed his irritation, for when Vargas 
 returned to his closet, in obedience 
 to a summons which he had received, 
 he found that the storm had subsided, 
 and that the Marquis had recovered 
 his serenity. Vargas attempted to 
 enter into an explanation of the mo- 
 tives of his conduct, but he was stop- 
 ped short by the Marquis. 
 
 " Hold, young man. I did not 
 summon you to my presence to hear
 
 VARGAS. 235 
 
 you defend your folly, but that you 
 should hear me pronounce your fate. 
 I give you four-and-twenty hours to 
 recover your senses — at this time to- 
 morrow you must take a solemn oath 
 forthwith to enter into holy orders, or 
 I shall instantly deliver you over to 
 the Inquisition, with an accusation of 
 heresy. Leave me, without daring to 
 reply.'* 
 
 Vargas was about to disobey the 
 latter command by attempting to 
 speak, but the Marquis clapped his 
 hands, and desired the servants, who 
 made their appearance in consequence, 
 to conduct Don Bartolome from the 
 apartment. 
 
 With the deepest dejection Vargas 
 retired to a grotto that stood at the 
 end of the Marquis's garden, from 
 which a communication had been 
 made, by special favour, with the
 
 236 VARGAS. 
 
 beautiful gardens of the Alcazar, the 
 Moorish palace at Seville. This con- 
 venience had been procured for the 
 Marquis by his friend the Archbishop, 
 both as it supplied a retired and de- 
 lightful promenade to Cornelia, for 
 the walks as well as the halls of the 
 palace were deserted, except upon 
 Sundays and festivals, when it was 
 open to the public, and also as it af- 
 forded an easy communication to the 
 archiepiscopal palace, which was con- 
 tiguous to the gardens on one side, as 
 the Marquis's house was on the other. 
 The door which lead from the grotto 
 was ingeniously hid in the recess of 
 an artificial rock, from which issued 
 one of the many fountains that con- 
 spire to cool the sultry air of Seville. 
 Vargas threw himself upon a stone 
 seat which was placed at one end of this 
 grotto, and gave himself up to the
 
 VARGAS. 237 
 
 comtemplatlon of the alternative which 
 had been offered to him. While his 
 thoughts were thus deeply engaged, 
 the door leading to the Alcazar was 
 opened^ and Cornelia passed through 
 it ; but the moment she saw Vargas, 
 she withheld her footstep, and re- 
 mained fixed in the attitude of one 
 not wishing to disturb the current of 
 his thoughts. 
 
 I have already said that Cornelia 
 was thoroughly sensible of the state 
 of her affections. She felt that she 
 loved Vargas most ardently, but she 
 had always considered her passion as 
 a hopeless one. The great barrier 
 which unceasingly obtruded itself upon 
 her mind was the profession which 
 the man w^hom she loved was destined 
 to embrace. This was the great, the 
 impassable limit to all her hopes ; and 
 so complete was its sufficiency to de-
 
 238 VARGAS. 
 
 stroy them, that she had never ima- 
 gined any auxiHary obstacles to her 
 happiness. The unconquerable buoy- 
 ancy of youthful spirits would often 
 make her fancy overstep this separa- 
 ting wall, but then all beyond was 
 one boundless prospect of uninter- 
 rupted happiness $ then she wantoned 
 in the sunshine of unrestrained joy, 
 and conjured up no cloud to chill the 
 short-lived illusion. Her mind had 
 been so long accustomed to dwell 
 upon this idea as the only, because 
 incomparably the greatest, obstacle to 
 an union with Vargas, that it was in- 
 capable of giving due weight to any 
 other that could possibly be sug- 
 gested. 
 
 Cornelia had been taking a walk in 
 the gardens of the Alcazar, and at the 
 same time had been indulging her 
 imagination in a flight into the ro-
 
 VARGAS. 239 
 
 mantic regions of unattainable happi- 
 ness, when she observed her father, 
 in unusual agitation, crossing to the 
 palace of the Archbishop. He bore 
 so unaccustomed a brow that she was 
 convinced that something important 
 must have occurred to move him, 
 and whilst waiting for his return, all 
 the misfortunes that could affect him 
 deeply passed in review before her 
 mind. She waited with an impa- 
 tience which, as it increased, was 
 accompanied by a sickening anticipa- 
 tion of some yet unconjectured horror. 
 He came at last, and to her anxious 
 and affectionate inquiries only replied, 
 " Trouble me not — I am only afflicted 
 with the ingratitude of Bartolome — 
 he rebels from my commands — he re- 
 fuses to become a priest." 
 
 " Refuses 1" cried Cornelia, " po- 
 sitively refuses?" 
 
 " Madly refuses," returned the fa-
 
 240 VARGAS. 
 
 ther. " I have allowed him twenty- 
 four hours for consideration. Inter- 
 rupt me not — I am not in a mood for 
 thee, Cornelia." 
 
 The torrent of ideas, the hopes of 
 happiness which this short informa- 
 tion admitted to the mind of Cornelia, 
 was almost too agitating for her frame. 
 The prison wall of her heart was 
 thrown down. That prospect which 
 she had so often contemplated as in a 
 picture with rapture, was now laid 
 open before her — real — possible — tan- 
 gible. It bore the bright hue which 
 her fancy had given to it; the un- 
 sullied bloom of innocence was upon 
 it; the unclouded sky of prosperity 
 hung over it. Oh that the early co- 
 louring which youth and love give to 
 our pictures of futurity could be pre- 
 served from the destructive influence 
 of time and experience ! 
 Cornelia'sardentiraagination glanced
 
 "VARGAS. 241 
 
 rapidly over and over the happy anti- 
 cipations that crowded upon her, with- 
 out admitting one of an opposite com- 
 plexion. Of the heart of Vargas she 
 felt assured. She did not even wait 
 that he should tell her that it was 
 hers; and the great solitary impossi- 
 bility had so long borne the brunt of 
 her upbraidings, that when it was re- 
 moved no other presented itself She 
 overstepped all intermediate difficul- 
 ties and gradations, and, by the happy 
 power of enthusiastic affection, acting 
 upon an exuberant fancy, she consti- 
 tuted herself the wife of Vargas. 
 
 It was with these feelings that she 
 entered the grotto where he lay, and, 
 upon seeing him, her father's words 
 recurred to her memory. " My fa- 
 ther has given him a period for con- 
 sideration," thought she; " he is 
 then debating on my fate ;" — and she 
 
 VOL. I. M
 
 242 VAllGAS. 
 
 remained motionless, but gazing upon 
 him with a look which unrestrainedly 
 expressed the most tender anxiety. 
 
 Vargas at length perceived her. 
 She roused him from the internal agi- 
 tation of irritated passions and reck- 
 less despair ; but there was a power- 
 ful charm in her manner and look 
 which softened at once all the feel- 
 ings of his heart, and suddenly drove 
 them into a new current. 
 
 " My dear Cornelia/' said he, 
 ** your father has turned me from his 
 door." 
 
 " My father cannot turn you from 
 his daughter's heart, Vargas/' she re- 
 plied; and the words fell from her 
 lips with a lingering accent, and a 
 tenderness of intonation, more expla- 
 natory than the most undisguised 
 avowal— more convincing than the 
 most powerful eloquence. 
 7
 
 VARGAS. 243 
 
 Her look — her tone — her words 
 broke the spell of ignorance that had 
 hitherto blinded Vargas to the nature 
 of his own feelings, and at once awoke 
 him to a sense of his passion, and 
 gave him the certainty of its return. 
 The ray of light that burst in upon 
 him illuminated a visionary scene, 
 beautiful as that which had so often 
 occupied the dreams of Cornelia. In 
 the short pause which followed, he 
 glanced over the whole expanse of 
 happiness before him with a rapidity 
 impossible to a less intense feehng, 
 and, then starting forward, he clasped 
 Cornelia to his heart with the most 
 energetic fondness. 
 
 A flood of tears relieved both their 
 hearts. There never were two hap- 
 pier creatures in the world than they 
 were at this instant ; and yet both 
 were in circumstances of the greatest 
 M 2
 
 244 VARGAS. 
 
 misery. Vargas was the iirst whose 
 mind admitted this painful reflection. 
 For many minutes he strove to refuse 
 it entrance, and pressed the trembling 
 Cornelia the closer to his breast, as if 
 slie could drive out the unwelcome 
 conviction ; but, with the importu- 
 nity of truth, it made its way, and 
 converted the balmy tears that had 
 given relief to his swelling heart into 
 bitter drops of sorrow. 
 
 " Great Heaven ! whither are w^e . 
 rushing ? upon what a precipice do 
 w^e stand — wretched as my ingrati- 
 tude has been to-day, I am rendering 
 it a damning crime — " and then paus- 
 ing he added, " if there be a hell 
 hereafter." 
 
 It was long, very long, before Cor- 
 nelia could comprehend the difficul- 
 ties, the dangers, or the duties of 
 their particular situations j and when
 
 VARGAS. 245 
 
 they were laid before her by Vargas, 
 she considered them all as insignifi- 
 cant when placed in opposition to her 
 affection. Vargas had abstained from 
 representing to her the alternative 
 which the Marquis had thireatencd if 
 he continued in his resolution of re- 
 fusing to take orders — an alternative 
 so loaded with terror to a Spanish 
 ear, that he felt the cruelty of using 
 it unnecessarily — but the strength of 
 his arguments was falling fast before 
 the strength of his affection. Even- 
 ing had overtaken them, and the tone 
 of the conversation had gradually be- 
 come more tender. He felt the im- 
 minent danger of prolonging it, and, 
 making a violent effort to command 
 himself, he attempted to leave her. 
 
 " Cornelia, it is hard, very hard, but 
 now, even now, when our hearts have 
 first met, at that moment we must
 
 246 VARGAS. 
 
 part. We have exhausted in this 
 meeting all the happiness that was 
 destined to sweeten our lives. No- 
 thing but misery is before us. To- 
 morrow, if I am in Seville, I must 
 choose between the dungeons of the 
 Inquisition or the cloister of the ca- 
 thedral. Either divides us for ever. 
 To be near you, but separated by an 
 impassable gulf, is less endurable than 
 to be far removed, but with the small 
 light of possibility for hope to live 
 by." 
 
 He did not dare to trust himself 
 with even a glance at the agony of 
 Cornelia, but he darted away, and 
 had reached the house before her 
 piercing cry to him to return could 
 be repeated. He passed through the 
 patio, and into the street, where he 
 continued his speed as if he had been 
 escaping from some close pursuit.
 
 VARGAS. 247 
 
 At the banks of the Guadalquivir his 
 impulse was still the same, and he had 
 scarcely slackened his pace when he 
 was stopped on the narrow bridge of 
 Triana by a young cavallero, with 
 whom he was acquainted. 
 
 " Whither are you going, Don 
 Bartolome?" said he. "Is it an 
 enemy you fly from ? my sword is at 
 your service." 
 
 The moment Vargas stopped he 
 felt himself so exhausted as to be 
 unable to proceed. To a repetition 
 of the question, " What do you fly 
 from ? " he answered incoherently 
 " From myself — from the Inquisition." 
 
 " Hush, for Heaven's sake," said 
 the young man, looking cautiously 
 round ; " there is no safety from the 
 Inquisition on the soil of Spain ; let 
 us try her waters ; come to this boat 
 with me."
 
 248 VARGAS. 
 
 Vargas suffered himself to be led, 
 and he entered a boat which had ap- 
 parently been waiting, and wliich put 
 off the moment they were on board, 
 rowing rapidly down the river. 
 
 The unhaf)py Vargas had flillen in 
 witli young Don Juan Mendoza at 
 the very instant that he was about to 
 embark on a secret commission for 
 England. Seville was at that time 
 the port through which all the riches 
 of the new-found world were poured 
 into Spain. Some miles down the 
 river numberless ships crowded its 
 broad expanse. One of these re- 
 ceived Mendoza and Vargas, and im- 
 mediately got under weigh. Vargas 
 gave himself up unresistingly to the 
 current of his destiny, and occupied 
 himself wholly with the contempla- 
 tion of his misery. He remembered 
 that a faithful servant of the Marquis
 
 VARGAS. 249 
 
 de Bohorquia, Perico, with whom 
 we have already made the reader ac- 
 quainted at Zaragoza, had been sent 
 to Rota, the town at the mouth of 
 the Guadalquivir, upon some errand. 
 In passing by the place, he had no 
 difficulty in finding him out, and he 
 intrusted him with the following letter 
 for Cornelia. 
 
 " Cornelia, I am embarked for 
 England. The waves of the great 
 ocean that will bear me thither are 
 less tumultuous than the agitated 
 feelings of my heart. Love, strong 
 love, shall steer my mind safe through 
 these, as the little bark preserves my 
 body from those. The bark will 
 guide me to a far distant land, but 
 the pilot of my mind will direct its 
 course ever, ever to thee, Cornelia." 
 
 M 5
 
 2.50 VARGAS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Hail sacred Truth, that plays around the mind. 
 And Heaven-directed ingress learns to find ; 
 One ray admitted tells the open way. 
 And the dark soul redeems from night to day. 
 From the Spanish. 
 
 Don Juan Mendoza, with whom 
 Vargas embarked so precipitately, was 
 a high-spirited young man of good 
 birth, who had indulged in that kind 
 of reading, which at the end of the 
 sixteenth century became so general 
 in Spain, as to excite the keen satire 
 of Cervantes. Though the chivalrous 
 romances which he had stored in his 
 memory had not infected him with a 
 mania equal to that of the knight of 
 La Mancha, it had induced him to 
 seize with avidity the first rational op-
 
 VARGAS. 2Sl 
 
 portunity of engaging in a chivalrous 
 enterprise. Such a one presented itself 
 in the interesting situation of theyoung 
 Queen of Scots, whose imprisonment 
 was the theme which at this moment 
 occupied the conversation of the higher 
 class of society in every part of Europe. 
 Don Bernardo Mendoza, Don Juan's 
 uncle, was the Ambassador from the 
 Court of Madrid to that of London. 
 That nobleman had joined in Throg- 
 morton's plot for the relief of Mary, 
 and for the re-establishment of the 
 Catholic religion in England. At the 
 commencement of this impotent con- 
 spiracy, the Ambassador had written 
 to his nephew, making him privy to 
 it, and giving him a commission to 
 assist the cause, by bringing to Eng- 
 land as much treasure as he could 
 procure for the purpose of distribution 
 amongst Elizabeth's Catholic subjects.
 
 252 VARGAS. 
 
 The young man entered with ardour 
 upon the undertaking; and, having 
 raised a considerable sum among the 
 merchants, who were amassing wealth 
 rapidly from the new source which 
 the discovery of America had opened 
 to them, he was now conveying the 
 supply to its destination, with the full- 
 est idea of its importance to a great 
 cause, and the highest hopes of ulti- 
 mate success. 
 
 Young Mendoza arrived in England 
 just in time to witness the execution 
 of Throgmorton ; and though he would 
 have evinced the most heroic firmness 
 and the most chivalrous exultation if 
 he had been exposed to the conse- 
 quences of his connexion with the 
 conspiracy, yet he could not help con- 
 sidering himself as a very fortunate 
 fellow to be able safely to return to 
 Spain with his uncle, whose life was
 
 VARGAS. 253 
 
 secured by his Ambassadorial charac- 
 ter, but who was desired to quit the 
 realm. 
 
 Vargas had neither spirits nor incli- 
 nation to connect himself with the 
 enterprise. The state of affairs upon 
 his arrival precluded the necessity of 
 his declaring his disapprobation of the 
 religion w^hich it was their object to 
 establish. He refused to return to 
 Spain ; and Don Juan parted from 
 him, therefore, in London, having pro- 
 vided for his immediate necessities, by 
 generously leaving him a few ducats. 
 Vargas found himself alone and friend- 
 less in a foreign, and, he might now 
 add, an enemy's country. The abso- 
 lute necessity for exertion had the 
 effect of preventing his mind from 
 falling into that dreadful state of dis- 
 content and despair, which is gene- 
 rally produced by misfortune and a
 
 254 VARGAS. 
 
 feeling of desolation, when unopposed 
 by a religious principle. Fortunately 
 a means of employment presented it- 
 self) which accorded, in some degree, 
 with his habits of study. 
 
 At that time the Spanish language 
 was cultivated by every one who 
 sought the fame of an accomplished 
 gentleman. The power of the Spanish 
 sceptre had been extended by Charles 
 V. over a vast portion of Europe, and 
 the fame of the Spanish arms had 
 alike increased by his contests and his 
 conquests ; throughout Italy, Ger- 
 many, and Flanders, the language was 
 spread by intercourse ; in France and 
 England it was rendered necessary by 
 the frequent discussion of the affairs 
 and the policy of the Court of Madrid, 
 which took place in those countries. 
 Spain, too, had lately displayed a new 
 world to the admiration and attention
 
 VARGAS. 255 
 
 of the old ; and what, perhaps, tended 
 more than all to the cultivation of the 
 Spanish language beyond its natural 
 limits, was, that it supplied a large 
 portion of the courtly reading of the 
 time ; the pastorals and chivalrous ro- 
 mances of Spain combining with the 
 French novels to form the library of 
 the ladies and lady-loving gallants of 
 the day. 
 
 Vargas found no difficulty in ob- 
 taining employment as a teacher of 
 the Spanish language, by which, for a 
 considerable time, he procured a sum 
 sufficient for the supply of his circum- 
 scribed wants. By degrees he be- 
 came familiar with the English lan- 
 guage ; and, being forced to mix in 
 some degree with the people amongst 
 whom he lived, he began to recover 
 from his dejection. He had hitherto 
 carefully abstained from allowing his
 
 256 VARGAS. 
 
 mind to return to the contemplation 
 of those subjects on which he had 
 wasted so much time, and in the laby- 
 rinth of which he had lost himself. 
 
 Living entirely without religion, he 
 had never even entered a Protestant 
 church, much less had attended any 
 celebration of the Catholic mass, until 
 the persecution, to which those who 
 professed the Romish creed were at 
 this time exposed, rendered it a mea- 
 sure of precaution to take every step 
 to prevent a suspicion of Catholicism 
 being excited against him. With this 
 view, only, Vargas at length attended 
 the public service of the Church of 
 England. Upon first entering the edi- 
 fice, he was forcibly struck by its sim- 
 plicity, so strongly contrasted with the 
 pompous decorations, and what he 
 now looked upon as ridiculous em- 
 blems, which crowded the chapels of
 
 VARGAS. 257 
 
 the cathedral at Seville, and to which 
 he had been so long accustomed and 
 enslaved. This feeling only gave place 
 to one of admiration at the consistent 
 simplicity of the liturgy, which was 
 rehearsed by the clergyman in an in- 
 telligible language, and a clear and 
 devotional tone. He felt irresistibly 
 impelled to join in the sincere but tem- 
 perate effusion of praise and thanks- 
 giving ; and he found all the argu- 
 ments which had thrown him from the 
 bosom of the Catholic church, and 
 which his mind rapidly recapitulated, 
 totally insufficient to prevent the aw- 
 ful conviction of the presence of an 
 All-powerful Deity, to whom the 
 united voices around him were ad- 
 dressed. 
 
 This was a frame of mind peculiarly 
 adapted for the reception of a power- 
 ful impression. It is when this effect
 
 258 VARGAS. 
 
 has been produced upon the feelings, 
 that thousands of creatures have been 
 confirmed in faith, and directed in a 
 thoroughly different course of thought 
 and action, by circumstances compa- 
 ratively trifling, and by connexions of 
 ideas apparently indistinct, but to 
 which Providence has been pleased to 
 attach in the mind of the individual 
 an importance and distinctness suf- 
 ficient to produce the merciful end in 
 view. Such was the case with Vargas. 
 At the moment that he was thus so- 
 lemnly affected, — while his feelings 
 were yet fresh, and before there had 
 been time for them to subside, the 
 priest began in an impressive tone to 
 read the Jubilate. This psalm he had 
 heard recited a thousand times at Se- 
 ville; but then it had been in the cold 
 dead style of a formal repetition, or in 
 the unaccentuated chaunt and bawl-
 
 / 
 
 VARGAS. 259 
 
 iiig response. Although Vargas was 
 well versed in Latin, yet it requires 
 not merely to understand, but to be 
 in the habit of thinking in a language, 
 to be able at once to feel the force of 
 the ideas conveyed through it to the 
 mind. He might have allowed the 
 sounds. Jubilate Deo omnis terras 
 psalmum dicite Deo to have fallen on 
 his ear without even reaching his un- 
 derstanding ; but to the English lan- 
 guage he was now thoroughly accus- 
 tomed, and his heart felt every word 
 as the priest read aloud " O be joy- 
 ful in God, all ye lands ; sing praises 
 unto the honour of his name ; make 
 his praise to be glorious. Say unto 
 God, O how wonderful are thy works, 
 through the greatness of thy power 
 shall thine enemies be confounded — 
 Oh, that all the world would worship
 
 260 VARGAS. 
 
 Thee, sing of Thee, and praise thy 
 
 name. 
 
 » # 
 
 In consequence of his feelings upon 
 this occasion, Vargas became a con- 
 stant attendant upon divine service. 
 He provided himself with the English 
 translation of the Bible then in use, 
 and studied it with great attention. 
 To complete the establishment of his 
 unsteady opinions, there was yet want- 
 ing the judicious direction of some 
 sensible divine, and this he soon 
 found. In his occasional intercourse 
 with some of the families in which he 
 taught, he had become acquainted 
 with a moderate, amiable, and intelli- 
 gent clergyman, and he had the good 
 sense to feel the difficulties under 
 which he laboured, and to apply with 
 
 * This is according to Coverclale's translation, 
 which was then used.
 
 VARGAS. 261 
 
 perfect candour to this person for as- 
 sistance and direction. He was not 
 disappointed — an open confession on 
 his part produced a commiserating 
 and affectionate interest on the part 
 of his spiritual adviser, and he be- 
 came in a short time a sincere and 
 earnest Protestant upon the convic- 
 tion of his reason. 
 
 One of the first effects of his con- 
 version was the anxious desire which 
 he felt to iaipart the benefits and 
 blessings of his belief to the object of 
 all his earthly solicitude. In propor- 
 tion as this desire increased, he felt 
 himself strong in the faith which he so 
 ardently embraced, and imagined that 
 the purity of his intentions would be 
 a powerful shield against the tempta- 
 tions to which he should be exposed 
 in her society. He argued himself 
 into a belief of the propriety of this
 
 262 VARGAS. 
 
 SO strongly, that at last he began to 
 look upon it as a paramount duty to 
 enlighten the spiritual darkness in 
 which he now conceived Cornelia to 
 be involved, and the principal occu- 
 pation of his thoughts was to discover 
 a feasible plan by which he should be 
 enabled to perform this sacred duty. 
 
 He had come to no satisfactory de- 
 cision on this point, when a means 
 unexpectedly presented itself in what 
 appeared to him to be a mysterious 
 and a providential manner. The 
 dreadful persecutions to which the 
 Catholics had been exposed since the 
 primacy of Whitgift, and the appoint- 
 ment of the court of ecclesiastical 
 commission, had very much reduced 
 that body ; but the remnant of them, 
 though hiding their persons and con- 
 ceahng their tenets, still anxiously ex- 
 pected the triumph of their cause,
 
 VA41GAS. 263 
 
 and looked towards Spain as the pro- 
 bable instrument by which, under 
 Providence, it would be obtained. 
 The vast preparations which were at 
 this time making at Lisbon for the in- 
 vincible Armada, which was destined 
 for the conquest of England, not only 
 raised their hopes to the highest pitch, 
 but excited their activity to render 
 every possible assistance to the at- 
 tempt, by fomenting every internal 
 dissension, and encouraging the dis- 
 heartened Romanists to co-operate in 
 the cause. Many Spanish spies se- 
 cretly found their way to London, and 
 one of these had charged himself with 
 a letter from the Marquis de Bohor- 
 quia to Vargas. London was not at 
 that time what it is now, and foreign- 
 ers were easily traced, however retired 
 they might live. The Spaniard, there- 
 fore, had little difficulty in discovering
 
 264 VARGAS. 
 
 Vargas ; and having well assured him- 
 self of his identity, he placed the let- 
 ter in his hands and left him. The 
 tenor of the epistle was as follows. 
 
 ^' Don Bernardo Bohorquia, Marquis 
 de Bohorquia, Conde de Villanada, 
 Lord of the towns of Pena-negra, 
 Montellano, and Puentearco, &c. &c. 
 kc, to the Cavallero calling himself 
 Don Bartolome Vargas, health. 
 
 " Ingratitude, as it was the first, so 
 it is the basest, of the many sins that de- 
 form the human heart. Forgiveness 
 is like the full ear of corn that speak- 
 eth good things of the soil in which it 
 grows ; neither is it right to cherish 
 anger even for a just offence. My 
 heart taketh pity upon thee, Vargas ; 
 the desolation which is preparing for 
 the predestined possessors of eternal 
 fire amongst whom it has been thy 
 punishment to dwell since thy evil
 
 VARGAS. 265 
 
 spirit led thee forth, must render thy 
 abode as dangerous to thy body as it 
 has ever been to thy soul. Return 
 with all speed to Seville — fear not my 
 anger : it has passed, and has left in 
 its place much desire for thy temporal 
 and eternal welfare." 
 
 Vargas did not endeavour to dis- 
 cover the causes of this relenting spirit 
 in the Marquis, nor the manner in 
 which he had become acquainted with 
 its result, but looking upon it as a 
 providential approval of his design, 
 he forthwith made arrangements to 
 obey the injunction contained in the 
 letter he had received. This he found 
 no easy matter in the existing state of 
 affairs, but he succeeded at last. By 
 what means he accomplished this ob- 
 ject I have not been able to discover, 
 and as the interest of his story de- 
 pends rather upon his arrival at Se- 
 
 VOL. I. N
 
 266 VARGAS. 
 
 ville, than upon the manner of his 
 getting there, I have been contented 
 with ascertaining beyond a doubt that 
 he did get there just about the time 
 that the Duke of Medina Sidonia's 
 invincible armada was taking its de- 
 parture from the mouth of the Tagus. 
 
 At Seville he soon found an expla- 
 nation of the Marquis's conduct. The 
 influence of a long-standing affection 
 in his heart, aided by the continued so- 
 licitations of Cornelia, would probably 
 have long before overpowered every 
 feeling of resentment towards Var- 
 gas, had they met with the co-opera- 
 tion of his confessor, no less distin- 
 guished a person than the Archbishop 
 of Seville, whose friendship for the 
 Marquis had induced him to take 
 upon himself this office. Cornelia 
 was both surprised and shocked at 
 this unusual obduracy in her father's
 
 VARGAS. 207 
 
 temper, and the more so as she was 
 ignorant of the counteracting cause. 
 Important public business called the 
 higher dignitaries of the church to 
 Madrid, and, during this period, Cor- 
 nelia's confessor became also her fa- 
 ther's. This good man was a simple 
 unambitious priest, who, acting upon 
 the impression which he had received 
 from the daughter, took every occa- 
 sion to speak of peace and reconcilia- 
 tion. At length, having sufficiently 
 prepared the Marquis's mind to re- 
 ceive such a charge, he imposed a 
 christian-like forgiveness and recep- 
 tion of Vargas as an atoning penance. 
 The letter which Vargas received was 
 consequently written. 
 
 The Marquis de Bohorquia received 
 
 Vargas as if he had just returned from 
 
 a journey to Cadiz or Cordova ; his 
 
 salutation was equally common-place 
 
 N 2
 
 £68 VARGAS. 
 
 and unimpassioned as it would have 
 been in either case. Cornelia re- 
 ceived him as a blind man would re- 
 cover the blessing of sight, with an 
 almost doubting astonishment, and 
 with unutterable gratitude. His re- 
 ception by the Marquis surprised him 
 by its unexpected and unimportant 
 character : his reception by Cornelia 
 went to the very bottom of his heart ; 
 it opened the flood-gates of his ten- 
 derest feelings, and he wept like a 
 child for some time, before he could 
 recover the command of them. 
 
 Vargas found that the Archbishop 
 of Seville was still at the court, and 
 likely to be so. He had been ap- 
 pointed by the King to take an active 
 part in some secret negotiation with 
 the Pope, which would probably en- 
 gage him for a considerable time. 
 The Marquis expected that Vargas 
 
 6
 
 VARGAS. 269 
 
 would remain in his house, as had 
 heretofore been the case ; but this he 
 refused to do. He felt that it would 
 be at once dishonourable and against 
 his conscience to be living under the 
 roof and upon the bounty of a man, at 
 the moment that he was meditating 
 and attempting to effect what he 
 knew would be considered as a crimi- 
 nal act and a great misfortune. The 
 Marquis was further astonished by 
 Vargas's positive refusal to accept of 
 any pecuniary assistance, without 
 which he conceived it impossible that 
 he could exist ; but Vargas told him 
 that, after what had passed, if he 
 were to consent to derive his subsist- 
 ence from the same kind hand which 
 had supplied him for so long a period of 
 his youth, he should conceive that he 
 took upon himself an obligation of 
 obedience as to his future profession :
 
 270 VARGAS. 
 
 and as he distinctly continued his re- 
 fusal to do this, he as positively de- 
 clined the proffered support. 
 
 This firm resolve of Vargas pro- 
 duced a sullen feeling of anger in the 
 mind of the Marquis, which, though 
 it did not induce him to put an end 
 to all intercourse with his untractable 
 protege, yet evidently influenced his 
 conduct and manner towards him. 
 Vargas, that he might steadily adhere 
 to his determination, sought some 
 means of supplying himself with the 
 necessaries of life. The success of 
 his former scheme when in England 
 naturally suggested a similar one now 
 that he found himself in a similar situ- 
 ation. The high-raised expectations 
 of the Spaniards at this moment, who 
 already formed calculations upon the 
 undoubted success of the invincible 
 armada, strongly favoured his plan.
 
 VARGAS. 211 
 
 The rich merchants of Seville, who 
 had reaped so much advantage from 
 the discovery and conquest of Ame- 
 rica, were preparing their sickles 
 for the new harvest which their 
 dreams had exhibited to them in the 
 heretic island, and as the advantage of 
 a knowledge of the language was evi- 
 dent, and as such language had not 
 been excommunicated, in spite of the 
 pestilential heresy of which it had 
 been made the organ, Vargas no 
 sooner made known his intention and 
 capability of teaching it, than he had 
 more pupils than he had time to in- 
 struct. 
 
 I will not trace the progress of his 
 success in the great object of his re- 
 turn to Seville ; but it is not surpris- 
 ing that it should have been rapid, 
 and that Cornelia's perfect and sin- 
 cere conversion should have crowned
 
 ^72 VARGAS. 
 
 his anxious endeavours. Neither is it 
 surprising that his affection should 
 have advanced equally with her faith, 
 nor that his reason should have gra- 
 dually yielded to the arguments of 
 love and opportunity. The impro- 
 priety of robbing his benefactor of his 
 daughter remained the same, but the 
 temptation to it v^as greater, and his 
 power of opposing that temptation 
 was less. His conviction, that Cor- 
 nelia's happiness as well as his own 
 required their union, bore down a 
 host of moral reflections, and the re- 
 cent conduct of the Marquis towards 
 himself was such as very much to 
 lighten the deep shade of guilt under 
 which the action had formerly ap- 
 peared to him. 
 
 The heroism of his virtue having 
 thus yielded to the persevering at- 
 tacks of human passions and feelings,
 
 VARGAS. 273 
 
 it was at last determined between 
 Vargas and Cornelia that they should 
 be secretly united. An obstacle now 
 presented itself which promised to be 
 less surmountable than the self-im- 
 posed boundaries of moral principle. 
 They had hitherto been reluctantly 
 forced to maintain the outward ap- 
 pearance of Catholicism, and it was a 
 great object of their marriage to fly 
 together into England, where they 
 might enjoy the free exercise of their 
 religious opinions. The point was 
 first, to overcome their objection to a 
 Catholic marriage ; and, secondly, to 
 find a priest to perform it. The first 
 point was a scruple of conscience, 
 which, after an argument for decency's 
 sake, shared the fate of former and 
 more powerful scruples of the same 
 nature. The second it was very diffi- 
 cult to settle. Cornelia's confessor 
 
 N 5
 
 274 VARGAS. 
 
 was a man whom they both thought 
 well of for a Catholic ; but Cornelia's 
 utmost endeavours at hypocrisy had 
 not succeeded so far as to prevent 
 suspicions arising in his mind of her 
 indifference as to religion, if not of 
 her unbelief. This had produced an 
 unusual severity in him, which it 
 would be difficult to soften. His 
 connexion with the Marquis too, in 
 consequence of the absence of the 
 Archbishop, must necessarily afford 
 him many opportunities of putting 
 the father upon his guard without 
 breaking the sigillum confessionis. 
 
 In this dilemma Vargas reluctantly 
 had recourse to a young man, who, 
 having been educated with him at the 
 cathedral school, had lately entered 
 the priesthood. The laxity of his 
 principles, which allowed him to per- 
 form the marriage, was the great oh-
 
 VARGAS. 275 
 
 jection which Vargas had to be united 
 to Cornelia by his agency ; but there 
 was no alternative, and as the young 
 priest unhesitatingly consented to per- 
 form the office, Cornelia became the 
 wife of her beloved Vargas. 
 
 Vargas was the husband of the wo- 
 man whom he had so long, so ten- 
 derly loved, and yet he was not happy ; 
 under the circumstance of their mar- 
 riage, it was natural that he should 
 have been uneasy and anxious ; but 
 in his feelings towards the object of 
 his affection he was not happy. 
 There was an unnatural restraint 
 upon his heart ; there was an unde- 
 fined dread in his mind; terrific, 
 though not tangible, like the phan- 
 toms that beset a frightened child m 
 the dark, equally unreal, but equally 
 imposing. His utmost exertions could 
 not throw this off, and he felt the
 
 276 VARGAS. 
 
 most unconquerable reluctance to 
 submit his feelings to the test of his 
 reason — he dared not to analyse them, 
 nor trace them to their source. 
 
 Cornelia was as far from enjoying 
 the happiness which her glowing ima- 
 gination had anticipated in a union 
 with Vargas, as the latter was in the 
 possession of her whom he loved. 
 This, however, principally arose from 
 the alteration in her husband, which 
 he in vain endeavoured to hide. 
 Loving him with devotion, her jealous 
 fears suggested a thousand torment- 
 ing causes for the forced manner in 
 which the expressions of his affections 
 appeared to be given. Her heart was 
 heavy ; the demons of suspicion and 
 jealousy began to attack it, and their 
 happiness appeared in danger of being 
 wrecked, even at its very launching. 
 
 Time passed on and no opportunity
 
 VARGAS. 277 
 
 occurred of putting their plan of fly- 
 ing to England into execution. In 
 the mean while the undefined feeling 
 that restrained the natural affection 
 of these two hearts, rather increased 
 than diminished in power. The tem- 
 per of the Marquis became more sour, 
 and his conduct to Vargas more dis- 
 tinctly repulsive. In this miserable 
 situation, Vargas, rather in. despair 
 than in hope, proposed to Cornelia 
 that an attempt should be made to 
 procure her father's approbation to 
 their union by making a strong ap, 
 peal to his heart, and, if necessary, 
 by placing before him the inutility of 
 opposition. Vargas suggested that 
 this should be done through the 
 Archbishop of vSeville, now on his re- 
 turn, whose apparent kindness to 
 them, and whose acknowledged in- 
 fluence with the Marquis seemed to
 
 278 VARGAS. 
 
 promise both his ready interference 
 and his success in their behalf. Cor- 
 nelia at first opposed this plan, but 
 habituated to yield to the judgment 
 of Vargas, even before he had ac- 
 quired the authority of a husband, she 
 at length consented to it, and perhaps 
 the more readily, because she began 
 to be sensible that she was in a situa- 
 tion which must ultimately produce a 
 disclosure of the whole.
 
 VARGAS. 279 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 By Heaven he echoes me, 
 As if there were some monster in his thought 
 Too hideous to be shown! Thou dost mean 
 something. 
 
 Shakspeare. 
 
 When Vargas and Cornelia had 
 made up their minds to a plan of ac- 
 tion, they both experienced less of 
 that fretful restlessness which usually 
 torments those, who, being oppressed 
 by a misfortune, are unable to take 
 any steps towards ameliorating their 
 situation. Their minds had some 
 feasible scheme to rest upon, the un- 
 certain results of which naturally oc- 
 cupied their attention by suggesting 
 possible cases, and contributed there-
 
 ^80 VARGAS* 
 
 fore, in some degree, to awaken the 
 spirit of hope within them. 
 
 The Archbishop arrived, and on 
 the very morning after his return 
 Vargas followed him from the grand 
 mass by a communication between 
 the cathedral and the archiepiscopal 
 palace, to which, as a boy, he had 
 been allowed free admittance. At 
 the very door of his closet he ap- 
 proached the prelate sufficiently to 
 attract attention, and he entreated to 
 be honoured with a private audience. 
 
 The Archbishop of Seville was a 
 diminutive man, who, by the assist- 
 ance of thr^e inches of cork placed 
 under his heels, and a mitre dispro- 
 portionately high, which he bore on 
 his heaJ, contrived to render the out- 
 line of his figure more oval and less 
 circular than his natural rotundity of
 
 VARGAS. 281 
 
 person might have promised. The 
 mitre also was of very important ser- 
 vice in pointing out to those who 
 stood behind him the exact spot 
 where the circle formed by his shoul- 
 ders touched upon the circle formed 
 by his head ; for the latter rose so 
 little above the former, that it might 
 have run a risk of being included in 
 the same outline, if the towering mitre 
 had not marked the projection. His 
 face might have displayed the charac- 
 teristic good humour of fat persons, 
 if the habit of smiling had not been 
 counteracted by a high conception 
 of the important dignity of his office; 
 and what little cheerfulness did sur- 
 vive the contest with pride, was de- 
 based by the evident character of sen- 
 suality and animal satisfaction which 
 it bore, and which effectually pre- 
 vented its being mistaken for the com-
 
 282 VARGAS. 
 
 placency of contentedness and of ra- 
 tional happiness. 
 
 The Archbishop of Seville had been 
 sub-prior to the monastery of St. 
 Justus when Charles V. retired there 
 upon the abdication of his crowns. 
 The fact of his filHng that office in 
 consequence of the Em peror*s recom- 
 mendation at the early age of five and 
 thirty taken together with some tri- 
 fling corroborative circumstances gave 
 rise to an idea amongst the monks 
 that he was a natural son of Charles's. 
 Whether there were any truth in this 
 opinion or not, his subsequent rapid 
 advancement tended to confirm it ; 
 and he took the greatest pains to give 
 a colour to the report, without ever 
 compromising himself by any avowal 
 which might sanction it. He had 
 now carried the archiepiscopal cro- 
 zier for fifteen years, during which he
 
 VARGAS. 283 
 
 had gradually increased in flesh and 
 in pride. 
 
 In obedience to an acquiescent 
 look, for his most illustrious Excel- 
 lency never deigned to bow, Vargas 
 followed him into the closet, and 
 closed the door after him. His em- 
 barrassment, however, became ex- 
 treme ; he had never seen the Arch- 
 bishop since his refusal to enter the 
 priesthood, and his subsequent escape 
 into England. The prelate seemed 
 very much altered in person, but infi- 
 nitely more so in manner. Instead 
 of the jocose and even familiar mode 
 of accosting Vargas, which had for- 
 merly procured the latter so much 
 respect and envy from his class-fel- 
 lows, his presence now seemed to have 
 banished even the usual dubious smile 
 from the illustrious countenance.
 
 284 VARGAS. 
 
 From the silence which followed 
 his entrance, Vargas imagined that the 
 Archbishop had forgotten his person, 
 and he attempted to recall himself to 
 his memory by saying, 
 
 " I am the young man whom your 
 most illustrious Excellency honoured 
 ^ome years since with a portion of 
 kind notice, when I was living in the 
 house of the Marquis of Bohorquia." 
 
 The Archbishop looked at him for 
 a short time, and then replied — 
 
 " Indeed! I took you to be the 
 young fool whom the evil one filled 
 with ingratitude and sin, and took to 
 his special school in England, that he 
 might complete your education." 
 
 The little portion of hope with 
 which Vargas entered the room totally 
 fled at this answer; he, however, sum- 
 moned up courage to say :
 
 VARGAS. 285 
 
 " Your illustrious Excellency has 
 been misinformed upon the circum- 
 stances of my unhappy history." 
 
 " Misinformed have I ? Umph I 
 misinformed — ^very likely indeed. So 
 then you are not a heretic ? you have 
 attended the sacrament of confession 
 every week for the last twelvemonth ; 
 you have signs thereof under the 
 mark of your reverend confessor, and 
 parchments setting forth your abso- 
 lution to boot. You are a minister of 
 the holy Catholic church; — that puffed 
 doublet and befeathered covering are 
 frock and cowl, or cassock and coif 
 at the least! Well, then, holy bro- 
 ther," continued the Archbishop with 
 a malicious irony, " if I am misin- 
 formed of the particulars of thy right 
 Catllolic history, be pleased to dis- 
 perse these mists of misinformation —
 
 286 VARGAS. 
 
 declare, forthwith, thy true and la- 
 mentable legend." 
 
 Despair had entered the heart of 
 Vargas at the beginning of this speech, 
 and that demon gradually took entire 
 possession of it as the alternately 
 croaking and squeaking voice of the 
 toad-like creature before him vented 
 its loathsome spite. The command 
 with which his Excellency ended, how- 
 ever, roused him to the necessity of 
 replying to it. He was unprepared 
 w ith a tale by which he could disprove 
 the accusations which the Archbishop 
 had heaped upon him, and he deter- 
 mined to make an endeavour to soften 
 his heart at once, without paying any 
 attention to them. 
 
 Fixing his eyes with a piercing in- 
 telligence upon the expecting prelate, 
 Vargas said with a voice full of pathos,
 
 VARGAS. 287 
 
 " the Marquis of Bohorquia has a 
 daughter ! *' 
 
 The Archbishop seemed thunder- 
 struck. He suddenly moved himself 
 erect from the lolling position by 
 which he had before filled his throne- 
 like chair. The lids of his small round 
 eyes became distended to admit of an 
 inquisitive and uneasy look at Vargas. 
 A sudden flush mounted to the very 
 rim of his mitre, which had nearly 
 been jerked from his head by the un- 
 usual rapidity of his movement. After 
 gazing at Vargas for a minute at least, 
 he resumed his former indifferent 
 manner, his eyelids returned to their 
 natural half-closed situation, and the 
 cushions that surrounded him again 
 received his weight. 
 
 Vargas's look, in the mean time, had 
 been more than ordinarily intelligible. 
 A ray of hope had darted across his 
 
 3
 
 288 VARGAS. 
 
 mind at the effect which his words had 
 produced. He imagined that he had 
 reached the point of compassion in 
 the Archbishop's breast, and his coun- 
 tenance clearly indicated all the emo- 
 tions to which such an idea gave rise. 
 The Archbishop was convinced that 
 he had been unnecessarily alarmed, 
 and at the same time he saw with a 
 demon-like joy all the pain that he 
 had it in his power to inflict. The 
 spirit of evil sharpens the intellect, 
 whilst it blunts the feelings, and it 
 pointed out to the delighted soul of 
 the prelate a weapon of torture which 
 he hastened to use. As he resunk 
 into his chair, he repeated in a mut- 
 tering tone of voice, " yes, the Mar- 
 quis of Bohorquia has a daughter in- 
 deed, and he has a son too." 
 
 All the unexpressed terror, the in- 
 definite dread which had haunted Var-
 
 VARGAS. '289 
 
 gas ever since his marriage, and which 
 he had been withheld from boldly exa- 
 mining by a confused and cowardly 
 feeling, rushed at these words at once 
 upon his mind, embodied in the dread- 
 ful idea that he might be that son. It 
 came upon him like a vivid flash of 
 lightning. There was a pause, during 
 which the faint hope of possibility 
 maintained a feeble struggle against 
 the strong power of probability. It 
 w-as a period like that which inter- 
 venes between the lightning flash and 
 the thunder-clap — awful, heart-sick- 
 ening; and then a torrent of over- 
 w^helming ideas came, like the thun- 
 der, to drown the last death-cries of 
 his happiness. 
 
 With an expression of fire in his 
 countenance which really alarmed the 
 Archbishop, especially as it was ac- 
 companied with two or three hasty 
 
 VOL. 1. o
 
 290 VARGAS. 
 
 adv^ancing strides, Vargas ejaculated 
 the word " son !" and as this produced 
 no explanation from the prelate, he 
 continued in a still louder tone, 
 " What is your meaning ? To whom 
 do you allude ?" 
 
 With hypocritical pity this arch- 
 demon of an Archbishop proceeded 
 to envenom the suggestions to which 
 he had gi.ven rise by the cant of com- 
 passion. " Truly, young man, thine 
 ignorance of human nature is lament- 
 able, and in some sort accounts for 
 the general weakness, not to say mad- 
 ness of thy conduct. However, that 
 which evinces thy folly, further sets 
 forth thy charity ; and, it were unbe- 
 coming my cross, and still more so 
 my crosier, to visit with unrelenting 
 indignation the misgoings of a weak 
 mind, whicli is not totally perverted. 
 But touching the family of the Mar-
 
 VARGAS. 291 
 
 quis de Bohorquia, it would sound ill 
 for my mouth, which has the sacred 
 seal of confession upon its lip, to utter 
 what might seem to reproach that no- 
 bleman, or even to betray the do- 
 mestic secrets which^ knowing, I could 
 only know in my holy profession and 
 office; yet hast thou, in truth, grown 
 to an age which must claim the appel- 
 lation of manhood, without observing 
 that men — men of the world I mean — 
 men not purified by the sanctifying 
 unction of the spiritual calHng which 
 thou hast spurned from thee to thy 
 everlasting bane; hast thou not mark- 
 ed, I say, that these worshippers of 
 Mammon waste not their substance 
 upon the offspring of other men ? — that 
 they labour not for their neighbour's 
 
 harvest ? — bethink thee, Vargas ." 
 
 " Bethink me?— No!" said Var- 
 gas, wildly interrupting him, " to 
 O 2
 
 292 -VARGAS. 
 
 tfiink is to go mad ; I have been an 
 idiot, a very idiot ; I am a villain — an 
 accursed villain 1" 
 
 He was about to say more, but the 
 words which were rising to his lips 
 suddenly faded from his memory ; the 
 intensity of his feelings had drawn 
 too largely upon his faculties, and 
 overstretched their power. For some 
 time previous, his mind had been like 
 a rudderless vessel, tossed upon the 
 breakers that announced a fearful 
 rock ; it had struck and become com- 
 pletely disjointed in the shivering 
 produced by the violence with which 
 it had been propelled. 
 
 After gazing in vacant silence for 
 some time upon the Archbishop, Var- 
 gas instinctively left the apartment, 
 and with the same impulse, walked 
 across the gardens of the Alcazar, and 
 into the grotto at the end of the Mar- 
 
 2
 
 VARGAS. 293 
 
 quis's garden. This spot had become 
 a favourite resort of Cornelia since the 
 interestins: scene which had occurred 
 there when she first received the as- 
 surance of Vargas's affection. Cor- 
 nelia was approaching the grotto as 
 Vargas entered it. The sight of her 
 immediately banished the giddy con- 
 fusion that existed in his brain, and 
 recalled him to a sense of his situation. 
 The idea was so piercingly painfnl- 
 and the perception of it returned to 
 his mind so suddenly, that he uttered 
 a loud cry, and in the wantonness of 
 despair gave vent in words to that 
 thought, the bare suspicion of which 
 he had before so sedulously avoided — 
 "'Merciful heavens! my sister and 
 my wife!" With this exclamation he 
 retraced his steps, and ran as if he 
 could have escaped from the thought 
 which pursued him.
 
 294 VARGAS. 
 
 Cornelia, struck with astonishment, 
 could hardly conceive the idea which 
 the words of Vargas seemed to con- 
 vey. With a dreadful anticipation, 
 however, she tottered forward to the 
 grotto where, completely overcomie by 
 her agitation, she sunk upon the stone 
 seat. There she sat trembling, or ra- 
 tlier shivering from head to foot ; un- 
 able to rise, and sick at heart with the 
 hsrror of expecting some dreadful, 
 some blasting misfortune. After a 
 considerable time, her loaded heart 
 burst forth in a torrent of tears which 
 continued to flow until she ceased to 
 have the power of controlling them, 
 and they became hysterical and con- 
 vulsive sobs. 
 
 In this state she was found by four 
 algu'azils of the Inquisition, who en- 
 tered by the door from the Alcazar, 
 and, upon seeing their victim extended 
 6
 
 VARGAS. 295 
 
 at full length upon the bench, took 
 her in their arms without ceremony, 
 and almost without resistance. From 
 the palace of the Alcazar to that of 
 the Inquisition, the ancient Moorish 
 fortress in the Barrio of Triana was a 
 considerable distance; but it was siesta 
 time, an hour as frequently chosen 
 for inquisitorial arrests as the night, 
 and one in which they attracted as 
 little observation. The wa-etched Cor- 
 nelia was borne to the latter palace, 
 and delivered over to the jailer of the 
 Inquisition by her silent conductors. 
 
 In the mean time Vargas, in a state 
 of frantic agitation, flew from the pa- 
 lace of the Alcazar, through which he 
 passed from its gardens, and, having 
 no object, the impulse of habit led 
 him to the other side of the Guadal- 
 quivir, where he had taken up his 
 abode in a small retired house in the
 
 296 VARGAS. 
 
 suburb called the Barrio of Triana. 
 His arrival at his lodgings recalled 
 him to himself. He threw himself 
 upon his bed, and, after a violent ef- 
 fort, he wept bitterly. The agony of 
 his mind was in some degree relieved 
 by his tears, and it was still more so 
 by the prayers which he now found 
 himself able to offer up to the throne 
 of mercy. He soon experienced the 
 influence of his devotional feelings in 
 calming the tempest which warred 
 within him, and, after making an ar- 
 dent but humble appeal to the good- 
 ness and mercy of his Creator, he 
 arose with the intention of consider- 
 ing his situation and forming some 
 determination. 
 
 Still he found this impossible. 
 What was to be done.'' Wretched- 
 ness, horror, and crime, surrounded 
 him on every side — he could never
 
 Vargas. 297 
 
 see his dear Cornelia again — his Cor- 
 nelia ! how dreadful the thought that 
 she was his ! Ought he not to have 
 foreseen the discovery which he had 
 now made ? ought he not to have 
 imagined it ? ought he to have mar- 
 ried Cornelia as he had done, even 
 though there were no tie of blood 
 uniting them ? This was the chord 
 of torture, and when he touched it, 
 his mind relapsed into his former pa- 
 roxysm of agony. 
 
 From this he was again roused by 
 loud voices in the corrall, or square 
 enclosure before his window. These 
 proceeded from his landlady, who w^as 
 vehemently disputing with an on^iero^ 
 or mule driver, upon the enormity of 
 the demand which he made for con- 
 veying a tali strapping son of her's to 
 Madrid. The arrieros offered the 
 only means of travelling to those who 
 o 5
 
 298 VARGAS. 
 
 could not afford the expense of post- 
 ing, and did not possess an animal of 
 their own. They undertook to carry 
 persons from place to place for a cer- 
 tain sum, furnishing them on the road, 
 affording them the protection of their 
 escort, and allowing them a seat upon 
 the top of a mule's burden, which, how- 
 ever, common humanity^ strongly aided 
 by the muleteer's instigations, obliged 
 the traveller to vacate, except when 
 he was actually forced by fatigue to 
 add his weight to the animal's load. 
 
 In the present instance the w^oman 
 was sending forth her son correr 
 mundo, according to the familiar 
 phrase ; that is, to make his way in 
 the world, which was, in fact, nothing 
 more than a convenient manner of 
 disposing of a superfluous son, by 
 turning him out to shift for himself 
 This custom was at one time popular.
 
 VARGAS. 299 
 
 not only amongst the parents, but 
 amongst the boys, in whom the eager- 
 ness for present change was more 
 than sufficient to overcome the dread 
 of distant hardship. Vargas's land- 
 lady having presented her son with a 
 ducat, a rosary, and her blessing, was 
 further bargaining for the payment of 
 hts expenses to Madrid^ a most un- 
 usual liberality upon such occasions. 
 The good mother did not fail to at- 
 tack the heart of the arriero by put- 
 ting this point in the strongest light j 
 neither did the keen muleteer fail to at- 
 tribute the reduction from his nominal 
 to his reasonable charge to aproper con- 
 sideration of the maternal generosity. 
 The bargain^ however, was not struck 
 without higher words than appeared 
 consistent with the amiable motives 
 which avowedly influenced the parties. 
 This altercation, having attracted 
 the attention of Vargas, suggested, at
 
 SOO VARGAS. 
 
 the same time, an immediate means of 
 leaving Seville. As soon as the plan 
 of going to Madi'id with this arriero 
 occurred to him, he did not wait to 
 consider of it, but, joining the party 
 in the corrail, he informed them of 
 his intention. 
 
 He not only found an unoccupied 
 muJe, but he was lucky enough to 
 reap the benefit which his landlady's 
 maternal liberality, or her loud voice, 
 had procured as to the expenses of 
 the journey ; for producing from his 
 purse the same sum which, upon in- 
 quiry, he found the good woman was 
 rather reluctantly transferring to the 
 palm of the muleteer, he went to seek 
 his valise, without attending to objec- 
 tion or remonstrance. As the money 
 was in fact the reasonable charge, the 
 muleteer having only abated the in- 
 crease which it was usual to make upon 
 the slender chance of meeting with a
 
 VARGAS. 301 
 
 traveller ignorant of the regular fares, 
 little more was said upon the subject, 
 and in half an hour Vargas was on 
 the road to Madrid. 
 
 Vargas, with a prudence which he 
 had gained in his straitened circum- 
 stances whilst in England, laid by all 
 the money which he could spare du- 
 ring the prosperous period when the 
 invincible armada had held out a pros- 
 pect that rendered the English lan- 
 guage a valuable acquisition. As 
 upon the bursting of that bubble he 
 retained two or three pupils from 
 whom he received enough to enable 
 him to live, he still possessed this 
 fund, which, as he required so little, 
 promised to supply him for a consi- 
 derable time. 
 
 The unhappy Vargas nowhere found 
 rest. He could as easily have fallen 
 asleep upon the rack, or on the pile, 
 as have bid defiance to the unceasing
 
 302 VARGAS. 
 
 torments of mind which he endured. 
 Misery impels locomotion. He wan- 
 dered from place to place until he found 
 himself at Zaragoza. The general 
 bustle and active spirit which pre- 
 vailed in that city, from various agi- 
 tating causes, were fortunately adapt- 
 ed to catch his attention. He had 
 acquired a just idea of liberty in Eng- 
 land, and had been fond of speculating 
 upon the possibility that his country- 
 men might throw off the yoke of des- 
 potism and bigotry which bowed them 
 down. The lapse of some weeks had 
 rendered the terrific thoughts which 
 had at first beset him less engrossing, 
 and in some degree had fitted his mind 
 for the reception of ideas foreign to 
 the one great subject of his contem- 
 plation. His imagination was ardent, 
 and, laying aside the name which he 
 had hitherto borne, he assumed at 
 once the appellation and character of
 
 VARGAS. 303 
 
 an Aragonese. He sought at first to 
 lose, for a time, the constant recur- 
 rence of his own fate to his mind, by 
 entering into the dispute which was 
 then carrying on between the people 
 of Aragon and their monarch, respect- 
 ing the right of appointing a foreigner 
 to be their viceroy. This for some 
 time engaged his attention ; but the 
 tedious process of political discussion 
 was soon banished by the ever-present 
 remembrance of his misery. He was 
 again falling into apathy and hopeless 
 wretchedness, when Antonio Perez 
 made his appearance at Zaragoza. 
 This interesting event gave him a 
 new impulse. He associated himself 
 wuth Perez, and attempted to shake 
 off the scorpion from his heart, by ap- 
 plying himself to the interests of his 
 new acquaintance with all the avidity 
 of a ruined gamester. 
 
 Having retraced the history of
 
 304 VARGAS. 
 
 Vargas thus far, it only remains to ex- 
 plain the reason of his sudden de- 
 parture from Zaragoza on the day fol- 
 lowing the tumult in which he had 
 taken so active a part. 
 
 The Perico by whom he was in- 
 formed of Cornelia's imprisonment by 
 the Inquisition, had been for many 
 years a servant of the Marquis of Bo- 
 horquia ; but having attracted the at- 
 tention of the Archbishop whilst in 
 his service, that prelate had obtained 
 for him an office under the porter of 
 the palace of the Inquisition at Se- 
 ville, from which he had gradually 
 risen to the porter's chair itself My 
 readers will easily have divined that 
 Cornelia was arrested by order of the 
 Archbishop, who repaired to the 
 palace of the Inquisition immediately 
 after that event had taken place. 
 The habitually good-humoured and 
 obsequious face of Perico opening the
 
 VARGAS. 305 
 
 great folding doors of the patio might 
 not, perhaps, have attracted the atten- 
 tion of his most Illustrious Excellency, 
 who was accustomed to see it, and 
 who besides most probably had his 
 mind very much pre-occupied at the 
 time. But now Perico's face was 
 neither good-humoured nor obsequi- 
 ous ; on the contrary it was melan- 
 choly, even to tears, and only respect- 
 ful. In fact, the good-hearted and 
 grateful man, who had nursed Corne- 
 ha as a child, and still considered 
 himself as a retainer of the house of 
 Bohorquia, had just been overpowered 
 by finding that his beloved young 
 mistress had entered the regions 
 where hope, that cometh to all, 
 cometh not. 
 
 The action of poor Perico's muscles 
 was so constantly that of hilarity, that 
 it performed the unusual office of ex- 
 pressing grief rather awkwardly, and
 
 306 VARGAS. 
 
 Still retained a tendency to its ordinary 
 expression which was more calculated 
 to excite mirth than commiseration in 
 those who saw it. The Archbishop 
 might have condescended to smile, but 
 that as a bad conscience is always on 
 the alert and generally very sagacious, 
 the cause of Perico's sorrow flashed at 
 once across his mind, and brought 
 with it a train of all the possible con- 
 sequences which might result from 
 his sympathy with the prisoner. 
 
 Upon entering the closet of the Ge- 
 neral Inquisitor, the Archbishop took 
 the most effectual means of quieting 
 his fears by requiring the instant im- 
 prisonment of Perico. An order to 
 that effect would immediately have 
 been given, had not the General Inqui- 
 sitor that morning received despatches 
 from his brethren at Zaragoza, in 
 which, amongst other things, the ill 
 conduct and consequent degradation
 
 VARGAS. 307 
 
 and punishment of their porter was 
 spoken of, and the loss they were at 
 in the difficulties which surrounded 
 them in Aragon to supply his place 
 with an eligible and trustworthy per- 
 son. As Perico's conduct had al- 
 ways been irreproachable, the Inqui- 
 sitor proposed transferring him to the 
 Holy Tribunal at Zaragoza, to which 
 the Archbishop consented, provided 
 his departure took place forthwith. 
 Perico was consequently displaced 
 from his comfortable office in the 
 patio of the palace, and perched upon 
 the back of a stout mule by the side 
 of two prisoners, who, escorted by six 
 men, were to be transferred to the 
 tribunal at Zaragoza. For a long 
 time Perico was at a loss whetlier he 
 was considered as one of the escort or 
 one of the escorted, and he crossed 
 himself with most unfeigned joy when 
 he found himself again occupying an
 
 308 VARGAS. 
 
 equally comfortable birth in the Al- 
 jaferia. 
 
 Perico, from the little grated hole 
 in the door of the Aljaferia, recog- 
 nised \vith astonishment his young 
 master, as he had always called Ysiv- 
 gas, on the day on which that for- 
 tress was besieged by the populace. 
 He was not so silly, however, as to 
 claim the acquaintance, but contented 
 himself on the following morning with 
 finding him out, which he had no dif- 
 ficulty in doing, as some of the fami- 
 liars of the Inquisition had traced him 
 to his residence in the discharge of 
 their office. The result of their meet- 
 ing has been already detailed. 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
 C. Baldwin, Printer. 
 New Bridgre-street, London.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF ILLIN0I8-URBANA 
 
 30 
 
 12 056535609