"Quoth the good fat friar,
Wiping his own mouth--'twas refection time."--R. Browning.
"Fray Sebastian Gomez, to the Honourable Senor Felipe de Santa Maria,
Licentiate of Theology, residing at Alcala de Henarez, commonly called
Complutum.
"Most Illustrious and Reverend Senor,--
"In my place of banishment, amidst these gloomy and inhospitable
mountains, I frequently solace my mind by reflections upon the friends
of my youth, and the happy period spent in those ancient halls of
learning, where in the morning of our days you and I together attended
the erudite prelections of those noble and most orthodox Grecians,
Demetrius Ducas and Nicetus Phaustus, or sat at the feet of that
venerable patriarch of science, Don Fernando Nunez. Fortunate are you,
O friend, in being able to pass your days amidst scenes so pleasant and
occupations so congenial; while I, unhappy, am compelled by fate, and by
the neglect of friends and patrons, to take what I may have, in place of
having what I might wish. I am, alas! under the necessity of wearing
out my days in the ungrateful occupation of instilling the rudiments of
humane learning into the dull and careless minds of children, whom to
instruct is truly to write upon sand or water. But not to weary your
excellent and illustrious friendship with undue prolixity, I shall
briefly relate the circumstances which led to my sojourn here."
(The good friar proceeds with his personal narrative, but by no means
briefly; and as it has, moreover, little or nothing to do with our
story, it may be omitted with advantage.)
"In this desert, as I may truly style it" (he continues), "nutriment for
the corporeal frame is as poor and bare as nutriment for the
intellectual part is altogether lacking. Alas! for the golden wine of
Xerez, that ambery nectar wherewith we were wont to refresh our jaded
spirits! I may not mention now our temperate banquets: the crisp red
mullet, the succulent pasties, the delicious ham of Estremadura, the
savoury olla podrida. Here beef is rarely seen, veal never. Our olla
is of lean mutton (if it be not rather of the flesh of goats), washed
down with bad vinegar, called wine by courtesy, and supplemented by a
few naughty figs or roasted chestnuts, with cheese of goat's milk, hard
as the heads of the rustics who make it. Certainly I am experiencing the
truth of the proverb, 'A bad cook is an inconvenient relation.' And
marvellously would a cask of Xerez wine, if, through the kindness of my
generous friends, it could find its way to these remote mountains, mend
my fare, and in all probability prolong my days. The provider here is
an antiquated, sour-faced duenna, who rules everything in this old ruin
of a castle, where poverty and pride are the only things to be found in
plenty. She is an Asturian, and came hither in the train of the late
unfortunate countess. Like all of that race, where the very shepherds
style themselves nobles, she is proud; but it is just to add that she is
also active, industrious, and thrifty to a miracle.
"But to pass on to affairs of greater importance. I have presumed, on
the part of my illustrious friend, some acquaintance with the sorrowful
history of my young pupils' family. You will remember the sudden shadow
that fell, like the eclipse of one of the bright orbs of heaven, upon
the fame and fortunes of the Conde de Nuera, known, some fifteen years
ago or more, as a brilliant soldier and courtier, and personal favourite
of his Imperial Majesty. There was a rumour of some black treason, I
know not what, but men said it even struck at the life of the great
Emperor, his friend and patron. It is supposed that the Emperor (whom
God preserve!), in his just wrath remembered mercy, and generously saved
the honour, while he punished the crime, of his ungrateful servant. At
all events, the world was told that the Count had accepted a command in
the Indies, and that he sailed thither from some port in the Low
Countries to which the Emperor had summoned him, without returning to
Spain. It is believed that, to save his neck from the axe and his name
from dire disgrace, he signed away, by his own act, his large property
to the Emperor and to Holy Church, reserving only a pittance for his
children. One year afterwards, his death, in battle with the Araucanian
savages, was announced, and, if I am not mistaken, His Majesty was
gracious enough to have masses said for his soul. But, at the time, the
tongue of rumour whispered a far more dreadful ending to the tale. Men
hinted that, upon the discovery of his treason, he despaired alike of
human and divine compassion, and perished miserably by his own hand.
But all possible pains were taken, for the sake of the family, to hush
up the affair; and nothing certain has ever, or probably will ever,
transpire. I am doubtful whether I am not a transgressor in having
committed to paper what is written above. Still, as it is written, it
shall stand. With you, most illustrious and honourable friend, all
things are safe.
"The youths whom it is my task to instruct are not deficient in parts.
But the elder, Don Juan, is idle and insolent; and withal, of so fiery a
temper, that he will brook no manner of correction. The younger, Don
Carlos is more toward in disposition, and really apt at his humanities,
were it not that his good-for-nothing brother is for ever leading him
into mischief. Don Manuel Alvarez, their uncle and guardian, who is a
shrewd man of the world, will certainly cause him to enter the Church.
But I pray, as I am bound in Christian charity, that it may not occur to
him to make the lad a Minorite friar, since, as I can testify from
sorrowful experience, such go barely enough through this wicked and
miserable world.
"In conclusion, I entreat of you, most illustrious friend, with the
utmost despatch and carefulness, to commit this writing to the flames;
and so I pray our Lady and the blessed St. Luke, upon whose vigil I
write, to have you in their good keeping.--Your unworthy brother,
"SEBASTIAN."
Thus, with averted face, or head shaken doubtfully, or murmured "Ay de
mi," the world spoke of him, of whom his own children, happy at least in
this, knew scarce anything, save words that seemed like a cry of joy.