The Bible in Spain: Or, the Journeys, Adventures, and Imprisonments of an Englishman, in an Attempt to Circulate the Scriptures in the PeninsulaBorrow, George
Religion
The Bible in Spain: Or, the Journeys, Adventures, and Imprisonments of an Englishman, in an Attempt to Circulate the Scriptures in the Peninsula
Borrow, George
Borrow, George, 1803-1881 -- Travel -- Spain; Spain -- Description and travel; Spain -- History -- 19th century
“A middle-sized man,” replied the innkeeper; “grave and dark. But the
most remarkable personage in appearance of them all was the Sawyer: he is
a kind of giant, so tall, that when he entered the doorway he invariably
struck his head against the lintel. The one I liked least of all was one
Palillos, who is a gloomy savage ruffian whom I knew when he was a
postillion. Many is the time that he has been at my house of old; he is
now captain of the Manchegan thieves, for though he calls himself a
royalist, he is neither more nor less than a thief: it is a disgrace to
the cause that such as he should be permitted to mix with honourable and
brave men; I hate that fellow, Don Jorge: it is owing to him that I have
so few customers. Travellers are, at present, afraid to pass through La
Mancha, lest they fall into his hands. I wish he were hanged, Don Jorge,
and whether by Christinos or Royalists, I care not.”
“You recognized me at once for an Englishman,” said I, “do many of my
countrymen visit Cordova?”
“_Toma_!” said the landlord, “they are my best customers; I have had
Englishmen in this house of all grades, from the son of Belington to a
young medico, who cured my daughter, the chica here, of the ear-ache.
How should I not know an Englishman? There were two with Gomez, serving
as volunteers. _Vaya que gente_; what noble horses they rode, and how
they scattered their gold about; they brought with them a Portuguese, who
was much of a gentleman but very poor; it was said that he was one of Don
Miguel’s people, and that these Englishmen supported him for the love
they bore to royalty; he was continually singing
‘El Rey chegou—El Rey chegou,
E en Belem desembarcou!’ {163}
Those were merry days, Don Jorge. By the by, I forgot to ask your
worship of what opinion you are?”
The next morning, whilst I was dressing, the old Genoese entered my room:
“Signore,” said he, “I am come to bid you farewell. I am about to return
to Seville forthwith with the horses.”
“Wherefore in such a hurry,” I replied; “assuredly you had better tarry
till to-morrow; both the animals and yourself require rest; repose
yourselves to-day and I will defray the expense.”
“Thank you, Signore, but we will depart forthwith, for there is no
tarrying in this house.”
“What is the matter with the house?” I inquired.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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