The man who had threatened to kill Las Casas was the same one who had once before fired a musket shot through the Bishop’s window, by way of warning him, and as he was known for a hot-headed reckless person, the friars were seriously apprehensive lest he might execute his threat; they begged Las Casas to leave and go to a place of safety. “Where,” he asked in reply, “would you, Fathers, have me go? Where shall I be safe as long as I act in behalf of these poor creatures? Were the cause mine, I would drop it with pleasure, but it is that of my flock, of these miserable Indians, wearied and oppressed by unjust slavery and insupportable tributes, which others of my flock have imposed upon them. Here I wish to remain; this church is my spouse, it is not mine to abandon. This is the purpose of my residence [here]. I wish to irrigate it with my blood, if they take my life, so that zeal for God’s service may be absorbed by the very ground I hold, to make it fertile, to bring forth the fruit of desire—the end of the injustice that stains and infects it. This is my wish, this is my determined resolve, and I shall not be so fortunate that God will permit the inhabitants of this city to fulfil it; other times have I found myself in greater dangers and, because of my unworthiness, God has withheld from me the crown of martyrdom. These disturbances, and the hatred of the conquerors for me, are of ancient date; I no longer feel their insults nor fear their threats, and in comparison with what has happened to me in Spain and the Indies, those of the other day were very moderate.” Against such steadfast resolution, the colonists could not hope to prevail, and one of the first results of the violent attack upon the Bishop, was a certain reaction in public sentiment when calmer Judgment reasserted itself. There was even some counter demonstration, and the news was brought to Las Casas that the man who had threatened to kill him had himself been badly mauled and beaten. The Bishop was the first and most assiduous of the injured man’s visitors, even preparing with his own hands, bandages and ointments to dress his hurts. Such charity and abnegation could not but touch even the rude object of these attentions, and after repeatedly begging the Bishop’s forgiveness for his recent violence, the man attached himself to him from thenceforth, and became one of his warmest defenders.