When they come to the _Plaza_, where the Stalls and Scaffolds are built, and upon which the Feats of Chivalry are to be performed, it is often with a great deal of Difficulty that the Brutes are got in; for there are twelve Stalls, one for every Bull, and as their Number grows less by the enstalling of some, the Remainder often prove more untractable and unruly: In these Stalls they are kept very dark, to render them fiercer for the Day of Battle.

On the first of the Days appointed (for a Bull-Feast commonly lasts three) all the Gentry of the Place, or near adjacent, resort to the _Plaza_ in their most gaudy Apparel, every one vieing in making the most glorious Appearance. Those in the lower Ranks provide themselves with Spears, or a great many small Darts in their Hands, which they fail not to cast or dart, whenever the Bull by his Nearness gives them an Opportunity. So that the poor Creature may be said to fight, not only with the Tauriro (or Bullhunter, a Person always hired for that Purpose) but with the whole Mult.i.tude in the lower Cla.s.s at least.

All being seated, the uppermost Door is open'd first; and as soon as ever the Bull perceives the Light, out he comes, snuffing up the Air, and stareing about him, as if in admiration of his attendants; and with his Tail c.o.c.k'd up, he spurns the Ground with his Forefeet, as if he intended a Challenge to his yet unappearing Antagonist. Then at a Door appointed for that purpose, enters the Tauriro all in white, holding a Cloak in one Hand, and a sharp two edged Sword in the other. The Bull no sooner sets Eyes upon him, but wildly staring, he moves gently towards him; then gradually mends his pace, till he is come within about the s.p.a.ce of twenty Yards of the Tauriro; when, with a sort of Spring, he makes at him with all his might. The Tauriro knowing by frequent Experience, that it behoves him to be watchful, slips aside just when the Bull is at him; when casting his Cloak over his Horns, at the same Moment he gives him a slash or two, always aiming at the Neck, where there is one particular Place, which if he hit, he knows he shall easily bring him to the Ground. I my Self observ'd the truth of this Experiment made upon one of the Bulls, who receiv'd no more than one Cut, which happening upon the fatal Spot, so stun'd him, that he remain'd perfectly stupid, the Blood flowing out from the Wound, till after a violent Trembling he dropt down stone dead.

But this rarely happens, and the poor Creature oftner receives many Wounds, and numberless Darts, before he dies. Yet whenever he feels a fresh Wound either from Dart, Spear, or Sword, his Rage receives addition from the Wound, and he pursues his Tauriro with an Increase of Fury and Violence. And as often as he makes at his Adversary, the Tauriro takes care with the utmost of his Agility to avoid him, and reward his kind Intention with a new Wound.

Some of their Bulls will play their Parts much better than others: But the best must die. For when they have behav'd themselves with all the commendable Fury possible; if the Tauriro is spent, and fail of doing Execution upon him, they set Dogs upon him: Hough him and stick him all over with Darts, till with very loss of Blood he puts an end to their present Cruelty.

When dead, a Man brings in two Mules dress'd out with Bells and Feathers, and fastening a Rope about his Horns, draws off the Bull with the Shouts and Acclamations of the Spectators; as if the Infidels had been drove from before _Ceuta_.

I had almost forgot another very common piece of barbarous Pleasure at these Diversions. The Tauriro will sometimes stick one of their Bull Spears fast in the Ground, aslant, but levell'd as near as he can at his Chest; then presenting himself to the Bull, just before the point of the Spear, on his taking his run at the Tauriro, which, as they a.s.sur'd me, he always does with his Eyes closed, the Tauriro slips on one side, and the poor Creature runs with a violence often to stick himself, and sometimes to break the Spear in his Chest, running away with part of it till he drop.

This _Tauriro_ was accounted one of the best in _Spain_; and indeed I saw him mount the back of one of the Bulls, and ride on him, slashing and cutting, till he had quite wearied him; at which time dismounting, he kill'd him with much Ease, and to the acclamatory Satisfaction of the whole Concourse: For variety of Cruelty, as well as Dexterity, administers to their Delight.

The _Tauriroes_ are very well paid; and in Truth so they ought to be; for they often lose their Lives in the Diversion, as this did the Year after in the way of his Calling. Yet is it a Service of very great Profit when they perform dextrously: For when ever they do any Thing remarkable, deserving the Notice of the Spectators, they never fail of a generous Gratification, Money being thrown down to 'em in plenty.

This Feast (as they generally do) lasted three Days; the last of which was, in my Opinion, much before either of the other. On this, a young Gentleman, whose Name was _Don Pedro Ortega_, a Person of great Quality, perform'd the Exercise on Horseback. The Seats, if not more crowded, were filled with People of better Fashion, who came from Places at a distance to grace the n.o.ble _Tauriro_.

He was finely mounted, and made a very graceful Figure; but as when the Foot _Tauriro_ engages, the Bull first enters, so in the Contest the _Cavaliero_ always makes his Appearance on the _Plaza_ before the Bull.

His Steed was a manag'd Horse; mounted on which he made his Entry, attended by four Footmen in rich Liveries; who, as soon as their Master had rid round, and paid his Devoirs to all the Spectators, withdrew from the Dangers they left him expos'd to. The _Cavaliero_ having thus made his Bows, and received the repeated Vivas of that vast Concourse, march'd with a very stately Air to the very middle of the _Plaza_, there standing ready to receive his Enemy at coming out.

The Door being open'd, the Bull appeared; and as I thought with a fiercer and more threatning Aspect that any of the former. He star'd around him for a considerable time, snuffing up the Air, and spurning the Ground, without in the least taking notice of his Antagonist. But at last fixing his Eyes upon him, he made a full run at the _Cavaliero_, which he most dexterously avoided, and at the same moment of time, pa.s.sing by, he cast a Dart that stuck in his Shoulders. At this the Shouts and _Vivas_ were repeated; and I observed a Handkerchief wav'd twice or thrice, which, as I afterwards understood, was a Signal from the Lady of his Affections, that she had beheld him with Satisfaction. I took notice that the _Cavaliero_ endeavour'd all he could to keep aside the Bull, for the Advantage of the Stroke, when putting his Horse on a full Career, he threw another Dart, which fix'd in his Side, and so enrag'd the Beast, that he seem'd to renew his Attacks with greater Fury. The _Cavaliero_ had behav'd himself to Admiration, and escap'd many Dangers; with the often repeated Acclamations of _Viva, Viva_; when at last the enraged Creature getting his Horns between the Horse's hinder Legs, Man and Horse came both together to the Ground.

I expected at that Moment nothing less than Death could be the Issue; when to the general Surprize, as well as mine, the very civil Brute, Author of all the Mischief, only withdrew to the other Side of the _Plaza_, where he stood still, staring about him as if he knew nothing of the Matter.

The _Cavaliero_ was carry'd off not much hurt, but his delicate Beast suffer'd much more. However I could not but think afterward, that the good natur'd Bull came short of fair Play. If I may be pardon'd the Expression, he had us'd his Adversary with more Humanity than he met with; at least, since, after he had the _Cavaliero_ under, he generously forsook him; I think he might have pleaded, or others for him, for better Treatment than he after met with.

For as the _Cavaliero_ was disabled and carry'd off, the Foot _Tauriro_ enter'd in white Accoutrements, as before; but he flatter'd himself with an easier Conquest than he found: there is always on these Occasions, when he apprehends any imminent Danger, a Place of Retreat ready for the Foot _Tauriro_; and well for him there was so; this Bull oblig'd him over and over to make Use of it. Nor was he able at last to dispatch him, without a general a.s.sistance; for I believe I speak within Compa.s.s, when I say, he had more than an hundred Darts stuck in him. And so barbarously was he mangled, and flash'd besides, that, in my Mind, I could not but think King _Philip_ in the Right, when he said, _That it was a Custom deserv'd little Encouragement_.

Soon after this _Tauridore_, or Bull-Feast was over, I had a Mind to take a pleasant Walk to a little Town, call'd _Minai_, about three Leagues off; but I was scarce got out of _la Mancha_, when an Acquaintance meeting me, ask'd where I was going? I told him to _Minai_; when taking me by the Hand, _Friend_ Gorgio, says he in _Spanish, Come back with me; you shall not go a Stride further; there are_ Picarons _that Way; you shall not go_. Inquiring, as we went back, into his Meaning, he told me, that the Day before, a Man, who had received a Sum of Money in Pistoles at _la Mancha_, was, on the road, set upon by some, who had got notice of it, and murdered him; that not finding the Money expected about him (for he had cautiously enough left it in a Friend's Hands at _la Mancha_) they concluded he had swallowed it; and therefore they ript up his Belly, and open'd every Gut; but all to as little Purpose. This diverted my Walk for that time.

But some little Time after, the same Person inviting me over to the same Place, to see his Melon-Grounds, which in that Country are wonderful fine and pleasant; I accepted his Invitation, and under the Advantage of his Company, went thither. On the Road I took notice of a Cross newly erected, and a Mult.i.tude of small stones around the Foot of it: Asking the Meaning whereof, my Friend told me, that it was rais'd for a Person there murder'd (as is the Custom throughout _Spain_) and that every good Catholick pa.s.sing by, held it his Duty to cast a Stone upon the Place, in Detestation of the Murder. I had often before taken Notice of many such Crosses: but never till then knew the Meaning of their Erection, or the Reason of the Heaps of Stones around them.

There is no Place in all _Spain_ more famous for good Wine than _Sainte Clemente de la Mancha_; nor is it any where sold cheaper: For as it is only an inland Town, near no navigable River, and the People temperate to a Proverb, great Plenty, and a small Vend must consequently make it cheap. The Wine here is so famous, that, when I came to _Madrid_, I saw wrote over the Doors of host Houses that sold Wine, _Vino Sainte Clemente_. As to the Temperance of the People, I must say, that notwithstanding those two excellent Qualities of good and cheap, I never saw, all the three Years I was Prisoner there, any one Person overcome with Drinking.

It is true, there may be a Reason, and a political one, a.s.sign'd for that Abstemiousness of theirs, which is this, That if any Man, upon any Occasion, should be brought in as an Evidence against you, if you can prove that he was ever drunk, it will invalidate his whole Evidence. I could not but think this a grand Improvement upon the _Spartans_. They made their Slaves purposely drunk, to shew their Youth the Folly of the Vice by the sottish Behaviour of their Servants under it: But they never reach'd to that n.o.ble height of laying a Penalty upon the Aggressor, or of discouraging a voluntary Impotence of Reason by a disreputable Impotence of Interest. The _Spaniard_ therefore, in my Opinion, in this exceeds the _Spartan_, as much as a natural Beauty exceeds one procured by Art; for tho' Shame may somewhat influence some few, Terrour is of force to deter all. A Man, we have seen it, may shake Hands with Shame; but _Interest_, says another Proverb, _will never lye_. A wise Inst.i.tution therefore doubtless is this of the _Spaniard_; but such as I fear will never take Place in _Germany, Holland, France_, or _Great Britain_.

But though I commend their Temperance, I would not be thought by any Means to approve of their Bigotry. If there may be such a Thing as Intemperance in Religion, I much fear their Ebriety in that will be found to be over-measure. Under the notion of Devotion, I have seen Men among 'em, and of Sense too, guilty of the grossest Intemperancies. It is too common to be a rarity to see their Dons of the prime Quality as well as those of the lower Ranks, upon meeting a Priest in the open Streets, condescend to take up the lower part of his Vestment, and salute it with Eyes erected as if they look'd upon it as the Seal of Salvation.

When the _Ave-Bell_ is heard, the Hearer must down on his Knees upon the very Spot; nor is he allowed the small Indulgence of deferring a little, till he can recover a clean Place; Dirtiness excuses not, nor will dirty Actions by any means exempt. This is so notorious, that even at the Play-house, in the middle of a Scene, on the first sound of the Bell, the Actors drop their Discourse, the Auditors supersede the indulging of their unsanctified Ears, and all on their Hearts, quite a different way, to what they just before had been employ'd in. In short, tho' they pretend in all this to an extraordinary Measure of Zeal and real Devotion; no Man, that lives among them any time, can be a Proselyte to them without immolating his Senses and his Reason: Yet I must confess, while I have seen them thus deludeing themselves with _Ave Marias_, I you'd not refrain throwing up my Eyes to the only proper Object of Adoration, in commiseration of such Delusions.

The Hours of the _Ave Bell_, are eight and twelve in the Morning, and six in the Evening. They pretend at the first to fall down in beg that G.o.d would be pleas'd to prosper them in all things they go about that Day. At twelve they return Thanks for their Preservation to that time; and at six for that of the whole Day. After which, one would think that they imagine themselves at perfect Liberty; and their open Gallantries perfectly countenance the Imagination: for tho' Adultery is look'd upon as a grievous Crime, and punish'd accordingly; yet Fornication is softened with the t.i.tle of a Venial Sin, and they seem to practise it under that Persuasion.

I found here, what _Erasmus_ ridicules with so much Wit and Delicacy, the custom of burying in a _Franciscan's_ Habit, in mighty request. If they can for that purpose procure an old one at the price of a new one; the Purchaser wil look upon himself a provident Chap, that has secur'd to his deceased Friend or Relation, no less than Heaven by that wise Bargain.

The Evening being almost the only time of Enjoyment of Company, or Conversation, every body in _Spain_ then greedily seeks it; and the Streets are at that time crowded like our finest Gardens or most private Walks. On one of those Occasions, I met a Don of my Acquaintance walking out with his Sisters; and as I thought it became an _English_ Cavalier, I saluted him: But to my Surprize he never return'd the Civility. When I met him the Day after, instead of an Apology, as I had flattered my self, I received a Reprimand, tho' a very civil one; telling me it was the Custom in _Spain_, nor well taken of any one, that took Notice of any who were walking in the Company of Ladies at Night.

But a Night or two after, I found by Experience, that if the Men were by Custom prohibited taking Notice, Women were not. I was standing at the Door, in the cool of the Evening, when a Woman seemingly genteel, pa.s.sing by, call'd me by my Name, telling me she wanted to speak with me: She had her _Mantilio_ on; so that had I had Day-light, I could have only seen one Eye of her. However I walk'd with her a good while, without being able to discover any thing of her Business, nor pa.s.s'd there between us any thing more than a Conversation upon indifferent Matters. Nevertheless, at parting she told me she should pa.s.s by again the next Evening; and if I would be at the Door, she would give me the same Advantage of a Conversation, That seem'd not to displease me.

Accordingly the next Night she came, and as before we walk'd together in the privatest parts of the Town: For tho' I knew her not, her Discourse was always entertaining and full of Wit, and her Enquiries not often improper. We had continu'd this Intercourse many Nights together, when my Landlady's Daughter having taken Notice of it, stopt me one Evening, and would not allow me to stand at the usual Post of Intelligence, saying, with a good deal of heat, _Don Gorgio, take my Advice; go no more along with that Woman: You may soon be brought home deprived of your Life if you do_. I cannot say, whether she knew her; but this I must say, she was very agreeable in Wit as well as Person. However my Landlady and her Daughter took that Opportunity of giving me so many Instances of the fatal Issues of such innocent Conversations, (for I could not call it an Intrigue) that apprehensive enough of the Danger, on laying Circ.u.mstances together, I took their Advice, and never went into her Company after.

_Sainte Clemente de la Mancha_, where I so long remain'd a Prisoner of War, lies in the Road from _Madrid_ to _Valencia_; and the Duke of _Vendome_ being ordered to the latter, great Preparations were made for his Entertainment, as he pa.s.s'd through. He stay'd here only one Night, where he was very handsomely treated by the _Corrigidore_. He was a tall fair Person, and very fat, and at the time I saw him wore a long black Patch over his left Eye; but on what Occasion I could not learn.

The afterwards famous _Alberoni_ (since made a Cardinal) was in his Attendance; as indeed the Duke was very rarely without him. I remember that very Day three Weeks, they return'd through the same Place; the Duke in his Herse, and _Alberoni_ in a Coach, paying his last Duties.

That Duke was a prodigious Lover of Fish, of which having eat over heartily at _Veneros_, in the Province of _Valencia_, he took a Surfeit, and died in three Days' time. His Corps was carrying to the _Escurial_, there to be buried in the _Panthaeon_ among their Kings.

The _Castilians_ have a Privilege by Licence from the Pope, which, if it could have been converted into a Prohibition, might have sav'd that Duke's Life: In regard their Country is wholly inland, and the River _Tagus_ famous for its Poverty, or rather Barrenness; their Holy Father indulges the Natives with the Liberty, in lieu of that dangerous Eatable, of eating all Lent time the Inwards of Cattle. When I first heard this related, I imagin'd, that the Garbidge had been intended, but I was soon after this rectify'd, _by Inwards_ (for so expressly says the Licence it self) _is meant the Heart, the Liver, and the Feet_.

They have here as well as in most other Parts of _Spain, Valencia_ excepted, the most wretched Musick in the Universe. Their _Guitars_, if not their _Sole_, are their darling Instruments, and what they most delight in: Tho' in my Opinion our _English_ Sailors are not much amiss in giving them the t.i.tle of _Strum Strums_. They are little better than our _Jews-harps,_ tho' hardly half so Musical. Yet are they perpetually at Nights disturbing their Women with the Noise of them, under the notion and name of Serenadoes. From the Barber to the Grandee the Infection spreads, and very often with the same Attendant, Danger: Night Quarrels and Rencounters being the frequent Result. The true born _Spaniards_ reckon it a part of their Glory, to be jealous of their Mistresses, which is too often the Forerunner of Murders; at best attended with many other very dangerous Inconveniences. And yet bad as their Musick is, their Dancing is the reverse. I have seen a Country Girl manage her Castanets with the graceful Air of a Dutchess, and that not to common Musick; but to Peoples beating or druming a Tune with their Hands on a Table. I have seen half a Dozen couple at a time dance to the like in excellent order.

I just now distinguish'd, by an Exception, the Music of _Valencia_, where alone I experienced the use of the Violin; which tho' I cannot, in respect to other Countries, call good; yet in respect to the other parts of _Spain_, I must acknowledge it much the best. In my Account of that City, I omitted to speak of it; therefore now to supply that Defect, I will speak of the best I heard, which was on this unfortunate Occasion: Several Natives of that Country having received Sentence of Death for their Adherence to King _Charles_, were accordingly ordered to the Place of Execution. It is the Custom there, on all such Occasions, for all the Musick of the City to meet near the Gallows, and play the most affecting and melancholy Airs, to the very approach of the Condemn'd; and really the Musick was so moving, it heightened the Scene of Sorrow, and brought Compa.s.sion into the Eyes of even Enemies.

As to the Condemn'd, they came stript of their own Cloaths, and cover'd with black Frocks, in which they were led along the Streets to the Place of Execution, the Friars praying all the way. When they came through any Street, were any public Images were fix'd, they stay'd before 'em some reasonable time in Prayer with the Friars. When they are arriv'd at the fatal Place, those Fathers leave 'em not, but continue praying and giving them ghostly Encouragement, standing upon the rounds of the Ladder till they are turn'd off. The Hangman always wears a silver Badge of a Ladder to distinguish his Profession: But his manner of executing his Office had somewhat in it too singular to allow of Silence. When he had ty'd fast the Hands of the Criminal, he rested his Knee upon them, and with one Hand on the Criminal's Nostrils, to stop his Breath the sooner, threw himself off the Ladder along with the dying Party. This he does to expedite his Fate; tho' considering the Force, I wonder it does not tear Head and Body asunder; which yet I never heard that it did.

But to return to _la Mancha_; I had been there now upwards of two Years, much diverted with the good Humour and Kindness of the Gentlemen, and daily pleased with the Conversation of the Nuns of the Nunnery opposite to my Lodgings; when walking one Day alone upon the _Plaza_, I found my self accosted by a _Clerico_. At the first Attack, he told me his Country: But added, that he now came from _Madrid_ with a _Potent_, that was his Word, from _Pedro de Dios_, Dean of the Inquisition, to endeavour the Conversion of any of the _English_ Prisoners; that being an _Irish-man_, as a sort of a Brother, he had conceived a Love for the _English_, and therefore more eagerly embraced the Opportunity which the Holy Inquisition had put into his Hands for the bringing over to Mother Church as many Hereticks as he could; that having heard a very good Character of me, he should think himself very happy, if he could be instrumental in my Salvation;

"It is very true, continu'd he, I have lately had the good Fortune to convert many; and besides the Candour of my own Disposition, I must tell you, that I have a peculiar knack at Conversion, which very few, if any, ever could resist. I am going upon the same work into _Murcia_; but your good Character is fix'd me in my Resolution of preferring your Salvation to that of others."

To this very long, and no less surprising Address, I only return'd, that it being an Affair of moment, it would require some Consideration; and that by the time he return'd from _Murcia_, I might be able to return him a proper Answer. But not at all satisfy'd with this Reply;

"Sir," says he, "G.o.d Almighty is all-sufficient: This moment is too precious to be lost; he can turn the Heart in the twinkling of an Eye, as well as in twenty Years. Hear me then; mind what I say to you: I will convince you immediately. You Hereticks do not believe in Transubstantiation, and yet did not our Saviour say in so many Words, _Hoc est corpus meum_? And if you don't believe him, don't you give him the Lye? Besides, does not one of the Fatherss ay, _Deus, qui est omnis Veritas, non potest dicere falsum_?"

He went on at the same ridiculous rate; which soon convinced me, he was a thorough Rattle. However, as a _Clerico_, and consequently in this Country, a Man dangerous to disoblige, I invited him home to Dinner; where when I had brought him, I found I had no way done an unacceptable thing; for my Landlady and her Daughter, seeing him to be a Clergyman, receiv'd him with a vast deal of Respect and Pleasure.

Dinner being over, he began to entertain me with a Detail of the many wonderful Conversions he had made upon obstinate Hereticks; that he had convinced the most Stubborn, and had such a _Nostrum_, that he would undertake to convert any one. Here he began his old round, intermixing his Harangue with such sc.r.a.ps and raw sentences of fustian _Latin_, that I grew weary of his Conversation; so pretending some Business of consequence, I took leave, and left him and my Landlady together.

I did not return till pretty late in the Evening, with Intent to give him Time enough to think his own Visit tedious; but to my great Surprize, I found my _Irish_ Missionary still on the Spot, ready to dare me to the Encounter, and resolv'd, like a true Son of the Church militant, to keep last on the Field of Battle. As soon as I had seated my self, he began again to tell me, how good a Character my Landlady had given me, which had prodigiously increased his Ardour of saving my Soul; that he could not answer it to his own Character, as well as mine, to be negligent; and therefore he had enter'd into a Resolution to stay my Coming, though it had been later. To all which, I return'd him Abundance of Thanks for his good Will, but pleading Indisposition and want of Rest, after a good deal of civil Impertinence, I once more got rid of him; at least, I took my Leave, and went to Bed, leaving him again Master of the Field; for I understood next Morning, that he stay'd some Time after I was gone, with my good Landlady.

Next Morning the Nuns of the Nunnery opposite, having taken Notice of the _Clerico's_ Ingress, long Visit, and late Egress, sent to know whether he was my Countryman; with many other Questions, which I was not then let into the Secret of. To all which I return'd, that he was no Countryman of mine, but an _Irish-man_, and so perfectly a Stranger to me, that I knew no more of him than what I had from his own Mouth, that he was going into _Murcia_. What the Meaning of this Enquiry was, I could never learn; but I could not doubt, but it proceeded from their great Care of their _Vicino_, as they call'd me; a Mark of their Esteem, and of which I was not a little proud.

As was my usual Custom, I had been taking my Morning Walk, and had not been long come home in order to Dinner, when in again drops my _Irish Clerico_; I was confounded, and vexed, and he could not avoid taking Notice of it; nevertheless, without the least Alteration of Countenance, he took his Seat; and on my saying, in a cold and indifferent Tone, that I imagin'd he had been got to _Murcia_ before this; he reply'd, with a natural Fleer, that truely he was going to _Murcia_, but his Conscience p.r.i.c.ked him, and he did find that he could not go away with any Satisfaction, or Peace of Mind, without making me a perfect Convert; that he had plainly discovered in me a good Disposition, and had, for that very Reason, put himself to the Charge of Man and Mule, to the Bishop of _Cuenca_ for a Licence, under his Hand, for my Conversion: For in _Spain_, all private Missionaries are obliged to ask Leave of the next Bishop, before they dare enter upon any Enterprize of this Nature.

I was more confounded at this last a.s.surance of the Man than at all before; and it put me directly upon reflecting, whether any, and what Inconveniences might ensue, from a Rencounter that I, at first, conceiv'd ridiculous, but might now reasonably begin to have more dangerous Apprehensions of. I knew, by the Articles of War, all Persons are exempted from any Power of the Inquisition; but whether carrying on a Part in such a Farce, might not admit, or at least be liable to some dangerous Construction, was not imprudently now to be considered. Though I was not fearful, yet I resolv'd to be cautious. Wherefore not making any Answer to his Declaration about the Bishop, he took Notice of it; and to raise a Confidence, he found expiring, began to tell me, that his Name was _Murtough Brennan_, that he was born near _Kilkenny_, of a very considerable Family. This last part indeed, when I came to _Madrid_, I found pretty well confirm'd in a considerable Manner. However, taking Notice that he had alter'd his Tone of leaving the Town, and that instead of it, he was advancing somewhat like an Invitation of himself to Dinner the next Day, I resolv'd to show my self shy of him; and thereupon abruptly, and without taking any Leave, I left the Room, and my Landlady and him together.

Three or four Days had pa.s.sed, every one of which, he never fail'd my Lodgings; not at Dinner Time only, but Night and Morning too; from all which I began to suspect, that instead of my Conversion, he had fix'd upon a Re-conversion of my Landlady. She was not young, yet, for a black Woman, handsom enough; and her Daughter very pretty: I entered into a Resolution to make my Observations, and watch them all at a Distance; nevertheless carefully concealing my Jealousy. However, I must confess, I was not a little pleas'd, that any Thing could divert my own Persecution. He was now no longer my Guest, but my Landlady's, with whom I found him so much taken up, that a little Care might frustrate all his former impertinent Importunities on the old Topick.

But all my Suspicions were very soon after turn'd into Certainties, in this Manner: I had been abroad, and returning somewhat weary, I went to my Chamber, to take, what in that Country they call, a _Cesto_, upon my Bed: I got in unseen, or without seeing any Body, but had scarce laid my self down, before my young Landlady, as I jestingly us'd to call the Daughter, rushing into my Room, threw her self down on the Floor, bitterly exclaiming. I started off my Bed, and immediately running to the Door, who should I meet there but my _Irish Clerico_, without his Habit, and in his Shirt? I could not doubt, by _the Dishabille_ of the _Clerico_, but the young Creature had Reason enough for her Pa.s.sion, which render'd me quite unable to master mine; wherefore as he stood with his Back next the Door, I thrust him in that ghostly Plight into the open Street.

I might, with leisure enough, have repented that precipitate Piece of Indiscretion; if it had not been for his bad Character, and the favourable Opinion the Town had conceived of me; for he inordinately exclaim'd against me, calling me Heretick, and telling the People, who were soon gathered round him, that coming to my Lodgings on the charitable work of Conversion, I had thus abus'd him, stript him of his Habit, and then turn'd him out of Doors. The Nuns, on their hearing the Outcries he made, came running to their Grates, to enquire into the Matter, and when they understood it, as he was pleas'd to relate it; though they condemn'd my Zeal, they pity'd my Condition. Very well was it for me, that I stood more than a little well in the good Opinion of the Town; among the Gentry, by my frequent Conversation, and the inferior Sort by my charitable Distributions; for nothing can be more dangerous, or a nearer Way to violent Fate, than to insult one of the Clergy in _Spain_, and especially, for such an one as they ent.i.tle a Heretick.

My old Landlady (I speak in respect to her Daughter) however formerly my seeming Friend, came in a violent Pa.s.sion, and wrenching the Door out of my Hands, opened it, and pull'd her _Clerico_ in; and so soon as she had done this, she took his Part, and railed so bitterly at me, that I had no Reason longer to doubt her thorough Conversion, under the full Power of his Mission. However the young one stood her Ground, and by all her Expressions, gave her many Inquirers Reason enough to believe, all was not Matter of Faith that the _Clerico_ had advanced. Nevertheless, holding it adviseable to change my Lodgings, and a Friend confirming my Resolutions, I removed that Night.

The _Clerico_ having put on his upper Garments, was run away to the _Corrigidor_, in a violent Fury, resolving to be early, as well knowing, that he who tells his Story first, has the Prospect of telling it to double Advantage. When he came there, he told that Officer a thousand idle Stories, and in the worst Manner; repeating how I had abus'd him, and not him only, but my poor Landlady, for taking his Part. The _Corrigidor_ was glad to hear it all, and with an officious Ear fish'd for a great deal more; expecting, according to Usage, at last to squeeze a Sum of Money out of me. However he told the _Clerico_, that, as I was a Prisoner of War, he had no direct Power over me; but if he would immediately write to the President _Ronquillo_, at _Madrid_, he would not fail to give his immediate Orders, according to which he would as readily act against me.

The _Clerico_ resolv'd to pursue his old Maxim and cry out first; and so taking the _Corrigidor's_ Advice, he wrote away to _Madrid_ directly. In the mean Time the People in the Town, both high and low, some out of Curiosity, some out of Friendship, pursu'd their Enquiries into the Reality of the Facts. The old Landlady they could make little of to my Advantage; but whenever the young one came to the Question, she always left them with these Words in her Mouth, _El Diabolo en forma del Clerico_, which rendring Things more than a little cloudy on the _Clerico's_ Side, he was advis'd and press'd by his few Friends, as fast as he could to get out of Town; Nuns, Clergy, and every Body taking Part against him, excepting his new Convert, my old Landlady.

The Day after, as I was sitting with a Friend at my new Quarters, _Maria_ (for that was the Name of my Landlady's Daughter) came running in with these Words in her Mouth, _El Clerico, el Clerico, pa.s.sa la Calle_. We hasten'd to the Window, out of which we beheld the _Clerico, Murtough Brennan_, pitifully mounted on the Back of a very poor a.s.s (for they would neither let, nor lend him a Mule through all the Town) his Legs almost rested on the Ground, for he was l.u.s.ty, as his a.s.s was little; and a Fellow with a large Cudgel march'd a-foot, driving his a.s.s along. Never did _Sancha Pancha_, on his Emba.s.sage to _Dulcinea_, make such a despicable, out of the way Figure, as our _Clerico_ did at this Time. And what increas'd our Mirth was, their telling me, that our _Clerico_, like that Squire (tho' upon his own Priest-Errantry) was actually on his March to _Toboso_, a Place five Leagues off, famous for the Nativity of _Dulcinea_, The Object of the Pa.s.sion of that celebrated Hero _Don Quixot_. So I will leave our _Clerico_ on his Journey to _Murcia_, to relate the unhappy Sequel of this ridiculous Affair.

I have before said, that, by the Advice of the _Corrigidor, our Clerico_ had wrote to _Don Ronquillo_ at _Madrid_. About a Fortnight after his Departure from _la Mancha_, I was sitting alone in my new Lodgings, when two _Alguizils_ (Officers under the _Corrigidor_, and in the Nature of our Bailiffs) came into my Room, but very civilly, to tell me, that they had Orders to carry me away to Prison; but at the same Moment they advis'd me, not to be afraid; for they had observed, that the whole Town was concern'd at what the _Corrigidor_ and _Clerico_ had done; adding, that it was their Opinion, that I should find so general a Friendship, that I need not be apprehensive of any Danger. With these plausible Speeches, though I afterwards experienced the Truth of them, I resign'd my self, and went with them to a much closer Confinement.