"Blessed be God who gave you that eloquent tongue!" exclaimed Cristobal, inflamed with admiration. "What a pair I have before me!
While these two live what need is there of any one else? All the people in Spain ought to be like them. But how could that be, when there is nothing in it but roguery! In Madrid, which is the capital where the law and the mandarins come from, every thing is robbery and cheating.
Poor religion, what a state they have brought it to! There is nothing to be seen but crimes. Senor Don Inocencio, Senora Dona Perfecta, by my father's soul, by the soul of my grandfather, by the salvation of my own soul, I swear that I wish to die!"
"To die!"
"That I wish those rascally dogs may kill me, and I say that I wish they may kill me, because I cannot cut them in quarters. I am very little."
"Ramos, you are great," said Dona Perfecta solemnly.
"Great? Great? Very great, as far as my courage is concerned; but have I fortresses, have I cavalry, have I artillery?"
"That is a thing, Ramos," said Dona Perfecta, smiling, "about which I would not concern myself. Has not the enemy what you lack?"
"Yes."
"Take it from him, then."
"We will take it from him, yes, senora. When I say that we will take it from him--"
"My dear Ramos," exclaimed Don Inocencio, "yours is an enviable position. To distinguish yourself, to raise yourself above the base multitude, to put yourself on an equality with the greatest heroes of the earth, to be able to say that the hand of God guides your hand--oh, what grandeur and honor! My friend, this is not flattery. What dignity, what nobleness, what magnanimity! No; men of such a temper cannot die.
The Lord goes with them, and the bullet and the steel of the enemy are arrested in their course; they do not dare--how should they dare--to touch them, coming from the musket and the hand of heretics? Dear Caballuco, seeing you, seeing your bravery and your nobility, there come to my mind involuntarily the verses of that ballad on the conquest of the Empire of Trebizond:
" 'Came the valiant Roland Armed at every point, On his war-horse mounted, The gallant Briador;
His good sword Durlindana Girded to his side, Couched for the attack his lance, On his arm his buckler stout, Through his helmet's visor Flashing fire he came;
Quivering like a slender reed Shaken by the wind his lance, And all the host united Defying haughtily.' "
"Very good," exclaimed Licurgo, clapping his hands. "And I say like Don Renialdos:
" 'Let none the wrath of Don Renialdos Dare brave and hope to escape unscathed;
For he who seeks with him a quarrel, Shall pay so dearly for his rashness That he, and all his cause who champion, Shall at my hand or meet destruction Or chastisement severe shall suffer.' "
"Ramos, you will take some supper, you will eat something; won't you?" said the mistress of the house.
"Nothing, nothing;" answered the Centaur. "Or if you give me any thing, let it be a plate of gunpowder."
And bursting into a boisterous laugh, he walked up and down the room several times, attentively observed by every one; then, stopping beside the group, he looked fixedly at Dona Perfecta and thundered forth these words:
"I say that there is nothing more to be said. Long live Orbajosa! death to Madrid!"
And he brought his hand down on the table with such violence that the floor shook.
"What a valiant spirit!" said Don Inocencio.
"What a fist you have!"
Every one was looking at the table, which had been split in two by the blow.
Then they looked at the never-enough-to-be-admired Renialdos or Caballuco. Undoubtedly there was in his handsome countenance, in his green eyes animated by a strange, feline glow, in his black hair, in his herculean frame, a certain expression and air of grandeur--a trace, or rather a memory, of the grand races that dominated the world. But his general aspect was one of pitiable degeneration, and it was difficult to discover the noble and heroic filiation in the brutality of the present. He resembled Don Cayetano's great men as the mule resembles the horse.
