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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/30236-0.txt b/30236-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f866e7c --- /dev/null +++ b/30236-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6810 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30236 *** + +PEPITA XIMENEZ + +FROM THE SPANISH OF +JUAN VALERA + +_WITH AN INTRODUCTION_ +BY THE AUTHOR +WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THIS EDITION + +NEW YORK +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1886 + +COPYRIGHT, 1886, +BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. + + + + +AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. + + +_To the Messrs. Appleton._ + +GENTLEMEN: It was my intention to write a preface for the purpose of +authorizing the edition you are about to publish in English of "Pepita +Ximenez"; but, on thinking the matter over, I was deterred by the +recollection of an anecdote that I heard in my young days. + +A certain gallant, wishing to be presented at the house of a rich man +who was about to give a magnificent ball, availed himself for that +purpose of the services of a friend, who boasted of his familiarity with +the great man, and of the favor he enjoyed with him. They proceeded to +the great man's house, and the gallant got his introduction; but the +great man said to him who had introduced the other, "And you, who is to +introduce you, for I am not acquainted with you?" As I entertain a +profound respect and affection for this country, and have not, besides, +the assurance that such an occasion would require, it would not do for +me to say what the _introducer_ of my story is said to have answered, +"I need no one to introduce or to recommend me, for I am just now going +away." + +I infer from my story, as its evident moral, that I ought to refrain +from addressing the public of the United States, to which I am entirely +unknown as an author, notwithstanding the fact of my having maintained +pleasant and friendly relations with its Government as the +representative of my own. + +The most judicious and prudent course I can adopt, then, is to limit +myself to returning you earnest thanks for asking from me an +authorization of which you did not stand in need, either by law or by +treaty, for wishing to make known to your countrymen the least insipid +of the products of my unfruitful genius, and for your generous purpose +of conceding to me author's rights. + +This, however, does not preclude the fact that, in thus expressing my +thanks to you publicly, I incur a responsibility which I did not assume +on any other occasion, either in Germany, Italy, or any other country +where my works have been translated; for then, if they failed to please +the public, although the fact might pain me, I could still shrug my +shoulders, and throw the blame of failure on the translator, or the +publisher; but in this case I make myself your accomplice, and share, or +rather receive, all the disgrace of failure, if failure there should be. + +"Pepita Ximenez" has enjoyed a wide celebrity, not only in Spain, but in +every other Spanish-speaking country. I am very far from thinking that +we Spaniards of the present day are either more easily satisfied, less +cultured than, or possessed of an inferior literary taste to, the +inhabitants of any other region of the globe; but this does not suffice +to dispel my misgivings that my novel may be received with indifference +or with censure by a public somewhat prejudiced against Spain by +fanciful and injurious preconceptions. + +My novel, both in essence and form, is distinctively national and +classic. Its merit--supposing it to have such--consists in the language +and the style, and not in the incidents, which are of the most +commonplace, or in the plot, which, if it can be said to have any, is of +the simplest. + +The characters are not wanting, as I think, in individuality, or in such +truth to human nature as makes them seem like living beings; but, the +action being so slight, this is brought out and made manifest by means +of a subtile analysis, and by the language chosen to express the +emotions, both which may in the translation be lost. There is, besides, +in my novel a certain irony, good-humored and frank, and a certain +humor, resembling rather the humor of the English than the _esprit_ of +the French, which qualities, although happily they do not depend upon +puns, or a play upon words, but are in the subject itself, require, in +order that they may appear in the translation, that this should be made +with extreme care. + +In conclusion, the chief cause of the extraordinary favor with which +"Pepita Ximenez" was received in Spain is something that may fail to be +noticed here by careless readers. + +I am an advocate of art for art's sake. I think it in very bad taste, +always impertinent, and often pedantic, to attempt to prove theses by +writing stories. For such a purpose dissertations or books purely and +severely didactic should be written. The object of a novel should be to +charm, through a faithful representation of human actions and human +passions, and to create by this fidelity to nature a beautiful work. The +object of art is the creation of the beautiful, and whoever applies it +to any other end, of however great utility this end may be, debases it. +But it may chance, through a conjunction of favorable circumstances, by +a happy inspiration, because in a given moment everything is, disposed +as by enchantment, or by supernatural influences, that an author's soul +may become like a clear and magic mirror wherein are reflected all the +ideas and all the sentiments that animate the eclectic spirit of his +country, and in which these ideas and these sentiments lose their +discordance, and group and combine themselves in pleasing agreement and +harmony. + +Herein is the explanation of the interest of "Pepita Ximenez." It was +written when Spain was agitated to its center, and everything was thrown +out of its regular course by a radical revolution that at the same time +shook to their foundations the throne and religions unity. It was +written when everything in fusion, like molten metal, might readily +amalgamate, and be molded into new forms. It was written when the strife +raged fiercest between ancient and modern ideals; and, finally, it was +written in all the plenitude of my powers, when my soul was sanest and +most joyful in the possession of an enviable optimism and an +all-embracing love and sympathy for humanity that, to my misfortune, can +never again find place within my breast. + +If I had endeavored by dialectics and by reasoning to conciliate +opinions and beliefs, the disapprobation would have been general; but, +as the conciliating and syncretic spirit manifested itself naturally in +a diverting story, every one accepted and approved it, each one drawing +from my book the conclusions that best suited himself. Thus it was that, +from the most orthodox Jesuit father down to the most rabid +revolutionist, and from the ultra-Catholic who cherishes the dream of +restoring the Inquisition, to the rationalist who is the irreconcilable +enemy of every religion, all were pleased with "Pepita Ximenez." + +It would be curious, and not inopportune, to explain here how it came +about that I succeeded in pleasing every one without intending it, +without knowing it, and, as it were, by chance. + +There was in Spain, some years ago, a conservative minister who had sent +a godson of his to study philosophy in Germany. By rare good fortune +this godson, who was called Julián Sanz del RÃo, was a man of clear and +profound intelligence, of unwearied application, and endowed with all +the qualities necessary to make of him a sort of apostle. He studied, he +formulated his system, he obtained the chair of metaphysics in the +University of Madrid, and he founded a school, from which has since +issued a brilliant pleiad of philosophers and statesmen, and of men +illustrious for their learning, their eloquence, and their virtues. +Chief among them are Nicolás Salmerón, Francisco Giner, Gumersindo +Azcárate, Federico de Castro, and Urbano González Serrano. + +The clerical party soon began to stir up strife against the master, the +scholars, and the doctrines taught by them. They accused them of +mystical pantheism. + +I, who had ridiculed, at times, the confused terms, the pomp of words, +and the method which the new philosophers made use of, regarded these +philosophers, nevertheless, with admiration, and took up their +defense--an almost solitary champion--in periodicals and reviews. + +I had already maintained, before this, that our great dogmatic +theologians, and especially the celebrated Domingo de Soto, were more +liberal than the liberal rationalists of the present day, affirming, as +they do, the sovereignty of the people by divine right; for if, as St. +Paul declares, all authority proceeds from God, it does so through the +medium of the people whom God inspires to found it; and because the only +authority that proceeds directly from God is that of the Church. + +I then set myself to demonstrate that, if Sanz del RÃo and his followers +were pantheists, our mystical theologians of the sixteenth and +seventeenth centuries were pantheists also; and that, if the former had +for predecessors Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and Krause, St. Theresa, St. +John de la Cruz, and the inspired and ecstatic Father Miguel de la +Fuente followed, as their model, Tauler and others of the Germans. In +saying this, however, it was not my intention to deny the claims of any +of these mystical writers as founders of their school in Spain, but only +to recognize, in this unbroken transmission of doctrine, the progressive +continuity of European civilization. + +For the purpose of carrying forward my undertaking, I read and studied +with ardor every Spanish book on devotion, asceticism, and mysticism +that fell into my hands, growing every day more charmed with the +richness of our literature in such works; with the treasures of poetry +contained in them; with the boldness and independence of their authors; +with the profound and delicate observation, in which they excel the +Scotch school, that they display in examining the faculties of the soul; +and with their power of entering into themselves, of penetrating to the +very center of the mind, in order there to behold God, and to unite +themselves with God, not therefore losing their own personality, or +their capacity for an active life, but issuing from the ecstasies and +ravishments of divine love more apt than before for every work that can +benefit the human species, as the steel is more finely tempered, +polished, and bright after it has burned in the fires of the forge. + +Of all this, on its most poetic and easily understood side, I wished to +give a specimen to the Spanish public of to-day, who had forgotten it; +but, as I was a man of my epoch, a layman, not very exemplary as regards +penitential practices, and had the reputation of a freethinker, I did +not venture to undertake doing this in my own name, and I created a +theological student who should do it in his. I then fancied that I could +paint with more vividness the ideas and the feelings of this student by +contrasting them with an earthly love; and this was the origin of +"Pepita Ximenez." Thus, when it was farthest from my thoughts, did I +become a novelist. My novel had, therefore, the freshness and the +spontaneity of the unpremeditated. + +The novels I wrote afterward, with premeditation, are inferior to this +one. + +"Pepita Ximenez" pleased the public also, as I have said, by its +transcendentalism. + +The rationalists supposed that I had rejected the old ideals, as my hero +casts off the clerical garb. And the believers, with greater unanimity +and truth, compared me to the false prophet who went forth to curse the +people of Israel, and without intending it exalted and blessed them. +What is certain is that, if it be allowable to draw any conclusion from +a story, the inference that may be deduced from mine is, that faith in +an all-seeing and personal God, and in the lore of this God, who is +present in the depths of the soul, even when we refuse to follow the +higher vocation to which he would persuade and solicit us--even were we +carried away by the violence of mundane passions to commit, like Don +Luis, almost all the capital sins in a single day--elevates the soul, +purifies the other emotions, sustains human dignity, and lends poetry, +nobility, and holiness to the commonest state, condition, and manner of +life. + +Such is, in my opinion, the novel you are now about to present to the +American public; for I repeat that I have not the right to make the +presentation. + +Perhaps, independent of its transcendentalism, my novel may serve to +interest and amuse your public for a couple of hours, and may obtain +some favor with it; for it is a public that reads a great deal, that is +indulgent, and that differs from the English public--which is eminently +exclusive in its tastes--by its generous and cosmopolitan spirit. + +I have always regarded as a delusion of national vanity the belief that +there is, or the hope that there ever will be, anything that, with +legitimate and candid independence, may be called American literature. +Greece diffused herself throughout the world in nourishing colonies, +and, after the conquests of Alexander, founded powerful states in Egypt, +in Syria, and even in Bactriana, among peoples who, unlike the American +Indians, possessed a high civilization of their own. But, +notwithstanding this dispersion, and this political severance from the +mother-country, the literature of Syracuse, of Antioch, and of +Alexandria was as much Greek literature as was the literature of Athens. +In my opinion, then, and for the same reason, the literature of New York +and Boston will continue to be as much English literature as the +literature of London and Edinburgh; the literature of Mexico and Buenos +Ayres will continue to be as much Spanish literature as the literature +of Madrid; the literature of Rio Janeiro will be as much Portuguese +literature as the literature of Lisbon. Political union may be severed, +but, between peoples of the same tongue and the same race, the ties of +spiritual fraternity are indissoluble, so long as their common +civilization lasts. There are immortal kings or emperors who reign and +rule in America by true divine right, and against whom no Washington or +Bolivar shall prevail--no Franklin succeed in plucking from them their +scepter. These tyrants are called Miguel de Cervantes, William +Shakespeare, and Luiz de Camoëns. + +All this does not prevent the new nation from bringing to the common +fund, and _pro indiviso_, of the culture of their race, rich elements, +fine traits of character, and perhaps even higher qualities. Thus it is +that I observe, in this American literature, of English origin and +language, a certain largeness of views, a certain cosmopolitanism and +affectionate comprehension of what is foreign, broad as the continent +itself which the Americans inhabit, and which forms a contrast to the +narrow exclusivism of the insular English. It is because of these +qualities that I venture to hope now for a favorable reception of my +little book; and it is in these qualities that I found my hope that the +fruits of Spanish genius in general will, in future, be better known and +more highly esteemed here than in Great Britain. + +Already, to some extent, Irving, Prescott, Ticknor, Longfellow, Howells, +and others have contributed, with judgment and discretion, translating, +criticising, and eulogizing our authors, to the realization of this +hope. + +Forgive my wearying you with this long letter, and believe me to be +sincerely yours, + +JUAN VALERA. + +NEW YORK, _April 18, 1886._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + + PAGE + +LETTER OF THE AUTHOR iii + +PEPITA XIMENEZ 1 + +I--LETTERS OF MY NEPHEW 4 + +II.--PARALIPOMENA 129 + +III.--EPILOGUE. (LETTERS OF MY BROTHER) 263 + + + + +PEPITA XIMENEZ + +"_Nescit labi virtus._" + + +The reverend Dean of the Cathedral of ------, deceased a few years since, +left among his papers a bundle of manuscript, tied together, which, +passing from hand to hand, finally fell into mine, without, by some +strange chance, having lost a single one of the documents contained in +it. Inscribed on this manuscript were the Latin words I use above as a +motto, but without the addition of the woman's name I now prefix to it +as its title; and this inscription has probably contributed to the +preservation of the papers, since, thinking them, no doubt, to be +sermons, or other theological matter, no one before me had made any +attempt to untie the string of the package, or to read a single page of +it. + +The manuscript is in three parts. The first is entitled "Letters from my +Nephew"; the second, "Paralipomena"; and the third, "Epilogue--Letters +from my Brother." + +All three are in the same handwriting, which, it may be inferred, is +that of the reverend dean; and, as taken together they form something +like a novel, I at first thought that perhaps the reverend dean wished +to exercise his genius in composing one in his leisure hours; but, +looking at the matter more closely, and observing the natural simplicity +of the style, I am inclined to think now that it is no novel at all, but +that the letters are copies of genuine epistles which the reverend dean +tore up, burned, or returned to their owners, and that the narrative +part only, designated by the biblical title of "Paralipomena," is the +work of the reverend dean, added for the purpose of completing the story +with incidents not related in the letters. + +However this may be, I confess that I did not find the reading of these +papers tiresome; I found them, indeed, rather interesting than +otherwise; and as nowadays everything is published, I have decided to +publish them too, without further investigation, changing only the +proper names, so that if those who bear them be still living they may +not find themselves figuring in a book without desiring or consenting to +it. + +The letters contained in the first part seem to have been written by a +very young man, with some theoretical but no practical knowledge of the +world, whose life was passed in the house of the reverend dean, his +uncle, and in the seminary, and who was imbued with an exalted religious +fervor and an earnest desire to be a priest. + +We shall call this young man Don Luis de Vargas. + +The aforesaid manuscript, faithfully transferred to print, is as +follows. + + + + +I. + +LETTERS FROM MY NEPHEW. + + +_March 22d._ + +DEAR UNCLE AND VENERABLE MASTER: + +Four days ago I arrived in safety at this my native village, where I +found my father, the reverend vicar, our friends and relations all in +good health. The happiness of seeing them and conversing with them has +so completely occupied my time and thoughts, that I have not been able +to write to you until now. + +You will pardon me for this. + +Having left this place a mere child, and coming back a man, the +impression produced upon me by all those objects that I had treasured up +in my memory is a singular one. Everything appears to me more +diminutive, much more diminutive, but also more pleasing to the eye, +than my recollection of it. My father's house, which in my imagination +was immense, is, indeed, the large house of a rich husbandman, but still +much smaller than the seminary. What I now understand and appreciate +better than formerly is the country around here. The orchards, above +all, are delightful. What charming paths there are through them! On one +side, and sometimes on both, crystal waters flow with a pleasant murmur. +The banks of these streams are covered with odorous herbs and flowers of +a thousand different hues. In a few minutes one may gather a large bunch +of violets. The paths are shaded by majestic trees, chiefly walnut and +fig trees; and the hedges are formed of blackberry-bushes, roses, +pomegranates, and honeysuckle. + +The multitude of birds that enliven grove and field is marvelous. + +I am enchanted with the orchards, and I spend a couple of hours walking +in them every afternoon. + +My father wishes to take me to see his olive-plantations, his vineyards, +his farm-houses; but of all this we have as yet seen nothing. I have not +been outside of the village and the charming orchards that surround it. + +It is true, indeed, that the numerous visits I receive do not leave me a +moment to myself. + +Five different women have come to see me, all of whom were my nurses, +and have embraced and kissed me. + +Every one calls me Luisito, or Don Pedro's boy, although I have passed +my twenty-second birthday; and every one inquires of my father for _the +boy_, when I am not present. + +I imagine I shall make but little use of the books I have brought with +me to read, as I am not left alone for a single instant. + +The dignity of squire, which I supposed to be a matter for jest, is, on +the contrary, a serious matter. My father is the squire of the village. + +There is hardly any one here who can understand what they call my +caprice of entering the priesthood, and these good people tell me, with +rustic candor, that I ought to throw aside the clerical garb; that to be +a priest is very well for a poor young man, but that I, who am to be a +rich man's heir, should marry, and console the old age of my father by +giving him half a dozen handsome and robust grandchildren. + +In order to flatter my father and myself, both men and women declare +that I am a splendid fellow, that I am of an angelic disposition, that I +have a very roguish pair of eyes, and other stupid things of a like kind +that annoy, disgust, and humiliate me, although I am not very modest, +and am too well acquainted with the meanness and folly of the world to +be shocked or frightened at anything. + +The only defect they find in me is that I am too thin through +over-study. In order to have me grow fat they propose not to allow me +either to study or even to look at a book while I remain here; and, +besides this, to make me eat of as many choice dishes of meats and +confectionery as they know how to concoct in the village. + +It is quite clear--I am to be stall-fed. There is not a single family of +our acquaintance that has not sent me some token of regard. Now it is a +sponge-cake, now a meat-salad, now a pyramid of sweetmeats, now a jug of +sirup. + +And these presents which they send to the house are not the only +attentions they show me. I have also been invited to dinner by three or +four of the principal persons of the village. + +To-morrow I am to dine at the house of the famous Pepita Ximenez, of +whom you have doubtless heard. No one here is ignorant of the fact that +my father is paying her his addresses. + +My father, notwithstanding his fifty-five years, is so well preserved +that the finest young men of the village might feel envious of him. He +possesses, besides, the powerful attraction, irresistible to some women, +of his past conquests, of his celebrity, of having been a sort of Don +Juan Tenorio. + +I have not yet made the acquaintance of Pepita Ximenez. Every one says +she is very beautiful. I suspect she will turn out to be a village +beauty, and somewhat rustic. From what I have heard of her I can not +quite decide whether, ethically speaking, she is good or bad; but I am +quite certain that she is possessed of great natural intelligence. +Pepita is about twenty years old and a widow; her married life lasted +only three years. She was the daughter of Doña Francisca Galvez, the +widow, as you know, of a retired captain + + "Who left her at his death, + As sole inheritance, his honorable sword," + +as the poet says. Until her sixteenth year Pepita lived with her mother +in very straitened circumstances--bordering, indeed, upon absolute want. + +She had an uncle called Don Gumersindo, the possessor of a small +entailed estate, one of those petty estates that, in olden times, owed +their foundation to a foolish vanity. Any ordinary person, with the +income derived from this estate, would have lived in continual +difficulties, burdened by debts, and altogether cut off from the display +and ceremony proper to his rank. But Don Gumersindo was an extraordinary +person--the very genius of economy. It could not be said of him that he +created wealth himself, but he was endowed with a wonderful faculty of +absorption with respect to the wealth of others; and, in regard to +dispensing, it would be difficult to find any one on the face of the +globe with whose maintenance, preservation, and comfort, Mother Nature +and human industry ever had less reason to trouble themselves. No one +knows how he lived; but the fact is that he reached the age of eighty +years, saving his entire income, and adding to his capital by lending +money on unquestionable security. No one here speaks of him as a usurer; +on the contrary, he is considered to have been of a charitable +disposition, because, being moderate in all things, he was so even in +usury; and would ask only ten per cent a year, while throughout the +district they ask twenty and even thirty per cent, and still think it +little. + +In the practice of this species of industry and economy, and with +thoughts dwelling constantly on increasing instead of diminishing his +capital, indulging neither in the luxury of matrimony and of having a +family, nor even of smoking, Don Gumersindo arrived at the age I have +mentioned, the possessor of a fortune considerable anywhere, and here +regarded as enormous, thanks to the poverty of these villagers, and to +the habit of exaggeration natural to the Andalusians. + +Don Gumersindo, always extremely neat and clean in his person, was an +old man who did not inspire repugnance. + +The articles of his modest wardrobe were somewhat worn, but carefully +brushed, and without a stain; although from time immemorial he had +always been seen with the same cloak, the same jacket, and the same +trousers and waistcoat. People sometimes asked each other in vain if +any one had ever seen, him wear a new garment. + +With all these defects, which here and elsewhere many regard as virtues, +though virtues in excess, Don Gumersindo possessed excellent qualities; +he was affable, obliging, compassionate, and did his utmost to please +and to be of service to everybody, no matter what trouble, anxiety, or +fatigue it might cost him, provided only it did not cost him money. Of a +cheerful disposition, and fond of fun and joking, he was to be found at +every feast and merry-making around, that was not got up by +contribution, which he enlivened by the amenity of his manners, and by +his discreet although not very Attic conversation. He had never had any +tender inclination for any one woman in particular, but, innocently and +without malice, he loved them all; and was the most given to +complimenting the girls, and making them laugh, of any old man for ten +leagues around. + +I have already said that he was the uncle of Pepita. When he was nearing +his eightieth year, she was about to complete her sixteenth. He was +rich; she, poor and friendless. + +Her mother was a vulgar woman of limited intelligence and coarse +instincts. She worshiped her daughter, yet lamented continually and with +bitterness the sacrifices she made for her, the privations she +suffered, and the disconsolate old age and melancholy end that awaited +her in the midst of her poverty. She had, besides, a son, older than +Pepita, who had a well-deserved reputation in the village as a gambler +and a quarrelsome fellow, and for whom, after many difficulties, she had +succeeded in obtaining an insignificant employment in Havana; thus +finding herself rid of him, and with the sea between them. After he had +been a few years in Havana, however, he lost his situation on account of +his bad conduct, and thereupon began to shower letters upon his mother, +containing demands for money. The latter, who had scarcely enough for +herself and for Pepita, grew desperate at this, broke out into abuse, +cursed herself and her destiny with a perseverance but little resembling +the evangelical virtue, and ended by fixing all her hopes upon settling +her daughter well, as the only way of getting out of her difficulties. + +In this distressing situation Don Gumersindo began to frequent the house +of Pepita and her mother, and to pay attentions to the former with more +ardor and persistence than he had shown in his attentions to other +girls. Nevertheless, to suppose that a man who had passed his eightieth +year without wishing to marry, should think of committing such a folly, +with one foot already in the grave, was so wild and improbable a +notion, that Pepita's mother, still less Pepita herself, never for a +moment suspected the audacious intentions of Don Gumersindo. Thus it was +that both were struck, one day, with amazement, when, after a good many +compliments between jest and earnest, Don Gumersindo, with the greatest +seriousness and without the least hesitation, proposed the following +categorical question: + +"Pepita, will you marry me?" + +Although the question came at the end of a great deal of joking, and +might itself be taken for a joke, Pepita, who, inexperienced though she +was in worldly matters, yet knew by a certain instinct of divination +that is in all women, and especially in young girls, no matter how +innocent they may be, that this was said in earnest, grew as red as a +cherry and said nothing. Her mother answered in her stead: + +"Child, don't be ill-bred; answer your uncle as you should: 'With much +pleasure, uncle; whenever you wish.'" + +This "with much pleasure, uncle--whenever you wish," came then, it is +said, and many times afterward, almost mechanically from the trembling +lips of Pepita, in obedience to the admonitions, the sermons, the +complaints, and even the imperious mandate of her mother. + +I see, however, that I am enlarging too much on this matter of Pepita +Ximenez and her history; but she interests me, as I suppose she should +interest you too, since, if what they affirm here be true, she is to be +your sister-in-law and my step-mother. I shall endeavor, +notwithstanding, to avoid dwelling on details, and to relate briefly +what perhaps you already know, though you have been away from here so +long. + +Pepita Ximenez was married to Don Gumersindo. The tongue of slander was +let loose against her, both in the days preceding the wedding and for +some months afterward. + +In point of fact, ethically considered, this marriage was a matter that +will admit of discussion; but, so far as the girl herself is concerned, +if we remember her mother's prayers, her complaints, and even her +commands--if we take into consideration the fact that Pepita thought by +this means to procure for her mother a comfortable old age, and to save +her brother from dishonor and infamy, constituting herself his guardian +angel and his earthly providence, we must confess that our condemnation +will admit of some abatement. Besides, who shall penetrate into the +recesses of the heart, into the hidden secrets of the immature mind of a +young girl brought up, probably, in the most absolute seclusion and +ignorance of the world, in order to know what idea she might have formed +to herself of marriage? Perhaps she thought that to marry this old man +meant to devote her life to his service, to be his nurse, to soothe his +old age; to save him from a solitude and abandonment embittered by his +infirmities, and in which only mercenary hands should minister to him; +in a word, to cheer and illumine his declining years with the glowing +beams of her beauty and her youth, like an angel who has taken human +form. If something of this, or all of this, was what the girl thought, +and if she failed to perceive the full significance of her act, then its +morality is placed beyond question. + +However this may be, leaving aside psychological investigations that I +have no authority for making, since I am not acquainted with Pepita +Ximenez, it is quite certain that she lived in edifying harmony with the +old man during three years, that she nursed him and waited upon him with +admirable devotion, and that in his last painful and fatal sickness she +ministered to him and watched over him with tender and unwearying +affection, until he expired in her arms, leaving her heiress to a large +fortune. + +Although more than two years have passed since she lost her mother, and +more than a year and a half since she was left a widow, Pepita still +wears the deepest mourning. Her sedateness, her retired manner of +living, and her melancholy, are such that one might suppose she lamented +the death of her husband as much as though he had been a handsome young +man. Perhaps there are some who imagine or suspect that Pepita's pride, +and the certain knowledge she now has of the not very poetical means by +which she has become rich, trouble her conscience with something more +than doubt; and that, humiliated in her own eyes and in those of the +world, she seeks, in austerity and retirement, consolation for the +vexations of her mind, and balm for her wounded heart. + +People here, as everywhere, have a great love of money. Perhaps I am +wrong in saying, _as everywhere_; in populous cities, in the great +centers of civilization, there are other distinctions which are prized +as much as or even more than money, because they smooth the way to +fortune, and give credit and consideration in the eyes of the world; but +in smaller places, where neither literary nor scientific fame, nor, as a +rule, distinction of manners, nor elegance, nor discretion and amenity +in intercourse, are apt to be either valued or understood, there is no +other way by which to grade the social hierarchy than the possession of +more or less money, or of something worth money. Pepita, then, in the +possession of money, and beauty besides, and making a good use, as every +one says, of her riches, is to-day respected and esteemed in an +extraordinary degree. From this and the surrounding villages, the most +eligible suitors, the wealthiest young men, have crowded to pay their +court to her. But, so far as can be seen, she rejects them all, though +with the utmost sweetness, for she wishes to make no one her enemy; and +it is commonly supposed that her soul is filled with the most ardent +devotion, and that it is her fixed intention to dedicate her life to +practices of charity and religious piety. + +My father, according to the general opinion, has not succeeded better +than her other suitors; but Pepita, to fulfill the adage that "courtesy +and candor are consistent with each other," takes the greatest pains to +give him proofs of a frank, affectionate, and disinterested friendship. +She is unremitting in her attentions to him, and, when he tries to speak +to her of love, she brings him to a stop with a sermon delivered with +the most winning sweetness, recalling to his memory his past faults, and +endeavoring to undeceive him in regard to the world and its vain pomps. + +I confess that I begin to have some curiosity to know this woman, so +much do I hear her spoken of; nor do I think my curiosity is without +foundation, or that there is anything in it either vain or sinful. I +myself feel the truth of what Pepita says; I myself desire that my +father, in his advanced years, should enter upon a better life, should +forget, and not seek to renew the agitations and passions of his youth, +and should attain to the enjoyment of a tranquil, happy, and honorable +old age. I differ from Pepita's way of thinking in one thing only; I +believe my father would succeed in this rather by marrying a good and +worthy woman who loved him, than by remaining single. For this very +reason I desire to become acquainted with Pepita, in order to know if +she be this woman; for I am to a certain extent troubled--and perhaps +there is in this feeling something of family pride, which, if it be +wrong, I desire to divest myself of--by the disdain, however honeyed and +gracious, of the young widow. + +If my situation were other than it is, I should prefer my father to +remain unmarried. Then, being the only child, I should inherit all his +wealth, and, as one might say, nothing less than the position of squire +of the village. But you already know how firm is the resolution I have +taken. Humble and unworthy though I be, I feel myself called to the +priesthood, and the possessions of this world have but little power over +my mind. If there is anything in me of the ardor of youth, and the +vehemence of the passions proper to that age, it shall all be employed +in nourishing an active and fecund charity. Even the many books you have +given me to read, and my knowledge of the history of the ancient +civilizations of the peoples of Asia, contribute to unite within me +scientific curiosity with the desire of propagating the faith, and +invite and animate me to go forth as a missionary to the far East. As +soon as I leave this village, where you, my dear uncle, have sent me to +pass some time with my father, and am raised to the dignity of the +priesthood, and, ignorant and sinner as I am, feel myself invested, by +free and supernatural gift through the sovereign goodness of the Most +High, with the power to absolve from sin, and with the mission to teach +the peoples, as soon as I receive the perpetual and miraculous grace of +handling with impure hands the very God made man, it is my purpose to +leave Spain, and go forth to distant lands to preach the gospel. + +I am not actuated in this by any species of vanity. I do not desire to +believe myself superior to other men. The power of my faith, the +constancy of which I feel myself capable, everything after the favor and +grace of God, I owe to the judicious education, to the holy teaching, +and to the good example I have received from you, my dear uncle. + +There is something I hardly dare confess to myself, but which, against +my will, presents itself with frequency to my mind; and, since it +presents itself to my mind, it is my desire, it is my duty to confess it +to you: it would be wrong for me to hide from you even my most secret +and involuntary thoughts. You have taught me to analyze the feelings of +the soul; to search for their origin, if it be good or evil; to make, in +short, a scrupulous examination of conscience. + +I have often reflected on two different methods of education: that of +those who endeavor to keep the mind in innocence, confounding innocence +with ignorance, and believing evil that is unknown to be avoided more +easily than evil that is known; and that of those, on the other hand, +who courageously, and as soon as the pupil has arrived at the age of +reason, show him, with due regard for modesty, evil in all its hideous +ugliness and repulsive nakedness, to the end that he may abhor and avoid +it. According to my way of thinking, it is necessary to know evil in +order the better to comprehend the infinite divine goodness, the ideal +and unattainable end of every virtuously born desire. I am grateful to +you that you have made me to know, with the honey and the oil of your +teaching, as the Scripture says, both good and evil, to the end that I +should aspire to the one and condemn the other, knowingly and with +discreet ardor. I rejoice that I am no longer in a state of mere +innocence, and that I shall go forward in the progress toward virtue, +and, in so far as is permitted to humanity, toward perfection, with a +knowledge of all the tribulations, all the asperities that there are in +the pilgrimage we are called upon to make through this valley of tears; +as I am not ignorant, on the other hand, of how smooth, how easy, how +pleasant, how flowery, the road is, in appearance, that leads to +perdition and eternal death. + +Another thing for which I feel bound to be grateful to you is the +indulgence, the toleration, not condescending nor lax, but, on the +contrary, grave and severe, with which you have been able to inspire me +for the errors and the sins of my fellow-men. + +I say all this to you because I wish to speak to you on a subject of so +delicate a nature that I hardly find words in which to express myself +concerning it. In short, I often ask myself whether the resolution I +have adopted had not its origin, in part at least, in the character of +my relations with my father. In the bottom of my heart have I been able +to pardon him his conduct toward my poor mother, the victim of his +errors? + +I consider this matter carefully, and I can not find an atom of hatred +in my breast. On the contrary, gratitude fills it entirely. My father +has brought me up affectionately. He has tried to honor in me the memory +of my mother, and one would have said that in my bringing up, in the +care he took of me, in the indulgence with which he treated me, in his +devotion to me as a child, he sought to appease her angry shade--if the +shade, if the spirit of her who was on earth an angel of goodness and +gentleness, could be capable of anger. I repeat, then, that I am full of +gratitude toward my father; he has acknowledged me, and, besides, he +sent me at the age of ten years to you, to whom I owe all that I am. + +If there is in my heart any germ of virtue, if there is in my mind any +element of knowledge, if there is in my will any honorable and good +purpose, to you it is I owe it. + +My father's affection for me is extraordinary; the estimation in which +he holds me is far superior to my merits. Perhaps, vanity may have +something to do with this. In paternal love there is something selfish; +it is, as it were, a prolongation of selfishness. If I were possessed of +any merit, my father would regard it all as a creation of his own, as if +I were an emanation of his personality, as much in spirit as in body. Be +this as it will, however, I believe that my father loves me, and that +there is in his affection something self-sustaining, and superior to all +this pardonable selfishness of which I have spoken. + +I experience a great consolation, a profound tranquillity of +conscience--and for this I return most fervent thanks to God--when I +take cognizance of the fact that the power of blood, the tie of nature, +that mysterious bond that unites us, leads me, without any +consideration of duty, to love my father and to reverence him. It would +be horrible not to love him thus--to be compelled to force myself to +love in order to obey a divine command. Nevertheless--and here comes +back my doubt--does my purpose of becoming a priest or a friar, of not +accepting, or of accepting only a very small part of the immense fortune +that will be mine by inheritance, and which I might enjoy even during my +father's lifetime, does this proceed solely from my contempt of the +things of this world, from a true vocation for a religious life, or does +it not also proceed from pride, from hidden rancor, from resentment, +from something in me that refuses to forgive what my mother herself, +with sublime generosity, forgave? This doubt assails and torments me at +times, but almost always I resolve it in my favor, and come to the +conclusion that I have no feeling of pride toward my father: I think I +would accept from him all he has, if I were to need it, and I rejoice to +be as grateful to him for little as for much. + +Farewell, uncle; in future I will write to you often, and as much at +length as you recommend me, if not quite so much so as to-day, lest I +should appear prolix. + +_March 28th._ + +I begin to be tired of my stay in this place, and every day the desire +grows stronger within me to return to you and to receive my ordination; +but my father wishes to accompany me, he wishes to be present at that +solemn ceremony, and desires that I should remain here with him at least +two months longer. He is so amiable, so affectionate with me, that it +would be impossible for me not to gratify him in all his wishes. I shall +remain here, therefore, for the time he desires. In order to give him +pleasure I do violence to my feelings, and make an effort to seem +interested in the amusements of the village, the country sports, and +even shooting, in all of which I am his companion. I try to appear gayer +and more animated than I am by nature. As, in the village, half in jest, +half by way of eulogy, I am called the saint, I endeavor, through +modesty, to avoid the appearance of sanctity, or to soften and humanize +its manifestations with the virtue of moderation, displaying a serene +and decent cheerfulness which was never yet opposed to holiness nor to +the saints. I confess, nevertheless, that the merry-making and the +sports of these people, with their coarse jokes and boisterous mirth, +weary me. I do not want to fall into the sin of scandal, nor to speak +ill of any one, though it be only to you and in confidence, but I often +think that it would be a more difficult enterprise, as well as a more +rational and meritorious one, to preach the gospel to these people, and +try to elevate their moral nature, than to go to India, Persia, or +China, leaving so many of my country-people behind, who are, if not +perverted, at least to some extent gone astray. Many, indeed, are of the +opinion that modern ideas, that materialism and infidelity, are to blame +for this; but if that be the case, if they it be that produce such evil +effects, then it must be in some strange, diabolical, and miraculous +manner, and not by natural means; since the fact is that here the people +read no books, either good or bad, so that I do not well see how they +can be perverted by any evil doctrines the books in fashion may contain. +Can these evil doctrines be in the air, like a miasma or an epidemic? +Perhaps--and I am sorry this thought, which I mention to you only, +should occur to me--perhaps the clergy themselves are in fault. Are +they, in Spain, equal to their mission? Do they go among the people, +teaching and preaching to them? Are they all capable of this? Have those +who consecrate themselves to a religious life and to the salvation of +souls a true vocation for their calling? Or is it only a means of +living, like any other, with this difference, that in our day only the +poorest, only those who are without expectations and without means, +devote themselves to it, for the very reason that this calling offers a +less brilliant prospect than any other? Be that as it may, the very +scarcity of virtuous and learned priests arouses all the more within me +the desire to be a priest. I would not willingly let self-love deceive +me. I recognize all my defects, but I feel within me a true vocation, +and many of those defects it may still be possible, with the divine +help, to correct. + +The dinner at the house of Pepita Ximenez, which I mentioned to you, +took place three days ago. As she leads so retired a life, I had not met +her before; she seemed to me, in truth, as beautiful as she is said to +be; and I noticed that her amiability with my father was such as to give +him reason to hope, at least judging superficially, that she will yield +to his wishes in the end, and accept his hand. + +As there is a possibility of her becoming my step-mother, I have +observed her with attention; she seems to me to be a remarkable woman, +whose moral qualities I am not able to determine with exactitude. There +is about her an air of calmness and serenity that may come either from +coldness of heart and spirit, with great self-control and power of +calculating effects, accompanied by little or no sensibility, or that +may, on the other hand, proceed from the tranquillity of her conscience +and the purity of her aspirations, united to the purpose of fulfilling +in this life the duties imposed upon her by society, while her hopes are +fixed meantime upon loftier things, as their proper goal. What is +certain is that, either because with this woman everything is the result +of calculation, without any effort to elevate her mind to a higher +sphere, or, it may be, because she blends in perfect harmony the prose +of daily life with the poetry of her illusions, there is nothing +discernible in her out of tone with her surroundings, although she +possesses a natural distinction of manner that elevates her above and +separates her from them all. She does not affect the dress of a +provincial, nor does she, on the other hand, follow blindly the fashions +of the city; she unites both these styles in her mode of dress in such a +manner as to appear like a lady, but still a lady country-born and +country-bred. She disguises to a great extent, as I think, the care she +takes of her person. There is nothing about her to betray the use of +cosmetics or the arts of the toilet. But the whiteness of her hands, the +color and polish of her nails, and the grace and neatness of her attire +denote a greater regard for such matters than might be looked for in one +who lives in a village, and who is said, besides, to despise the +vanities of this world, and to think only of heavenly things. + +Her house is exquisitely clean, and everything in it reveals the most +perfect order. The furniture is neither artistic nor elegant, nor is it, +on the other hand, either pretentious or in bad taste. To give a poetic +air to her surroundings, she keeps in the saloons and galleries, as well +as in the garden, a multitude of plants and flowers. There is not, +indeed, among them any rare plant or exotic, but her plants and flowers, +of the commonest species here, are tended with extraordinary care. + +Canaries in gilded cages enliven the whole house with their songs. Its +mistress, it is obvious, has need of living creatures on which to bestow +some of her affection; and besides several maid-servants that one would +suppose she had selected with care, since it can not be by mere chance +that they are all pretty, she has, after the fashion of old maids, +various animals to keep her company--a parrot, a little dog whose coat +is of the whitest, and two or three cats, so tame and sociable that they +jump up on one in the most friendly manner. + +At one end of the principal saloon is a species of oratory, whose chief +ornament is an _Infant Jesus_, carved in wood, with red and white cheeks +and blue eyes, and altogether quite handsome. The dress is of white +satin, with a blue cloak full of little golden stars; and the image is +completely covered with jewels and trinkets. The little altar on which +the figure is placed is adorned with flowers, and around it are set pots +of broom and laurel; and on the altar itself, which is furnished with +steps, a great many wax tapers are kept burning. When I behold all this +I know not what to think, but for the most part I am inclined to believe +that the widow loves herself above all things, and that it is for her +recreation, and for the purpose of furnishing her with occasions for the +effusion of this love, that she keeps the cats, the canaries, the +flowers, and even the _Infant Jesus_ itself, which, in her secret soul, +perhaps, does not occupy a place very much higher than the canaries and +the cats. + +It can not be denied that Pepita Ximenez is possessed of discretion. No +silly jest, no impertinent question in regard to my vocation, and, above +all, in regard to my approaching ordination, has crossed her lips. She +conversed with me on matters relating to the village, about agriculture, +the last crop of grapes and olives, and the means of improving the +methods of making wine, expressing herself always with modesty and +naturalness, and without manifesting any desire of appearing to know +more than others. + +There were present at dinner the doctor, the notary, and the reverend +vicar, who is a great friend of the house, and the spiritual father of +Pepita. + +The reverend vicar must have a very high opinion of the latter, for on +several occasions he spoke to me apart of her charity, of the many alms +she bestows, of her compassion and goodness toward every one. In a word, +he declared her to be a saint. + +In view of what the vicar has told me, and relying on his judgment, I +can do no less than wish that my father may marry Pepita. As my father +is not fitted for a life of penance, in this way only could he hope to +change his mode of life, that up to the present has been so dissipated, +and settle down to a well-ordered and quiet, if not exemplary, old age. + +When we reached our house, after leaving that of Pepita Ximenez, my +father spoke to me seriously of his projects. He told me that in his +time he had been very wild, that he had led a very bad life, and that he +saw no way of reforming, notwithstanding his years, unless Pepita were +to fall in love with and marry him. + +Taking for granted, of course, that she would do so, my father then +spoke to me of business. He told me that he was very rich, and would +leave me amply provided for in his will, even though he should have +other children. I answered him that for my plans and purposes in life I +needed very little money, and that my greatest satisfaction would always +consist in knowing him to be happy with wife and children, his former +evil ways forgotten. My father then spoke to me of his tender hopes with +a candor and vivacity that might make one suppose me to be the father +and the old man, and he a youth of my age, or younger. In order to +enhance the merit of his mistress, and the difficulties of his conquest, +he recounted to me the accomplishments and the excellences of the +fifteen or twenty suitors who had already presented themselves to +Pepita, and who had all been rejected. As for himself, as he explained +to me, the same lot, to a certain extent, had been his also; but he +flattered himself that this want of success was not final, since Pepita +showed him so many kindnesses, and an affection so great that, if it +were not love, it might easily, with time, and the persistent homage he +dedicated to her, be converted into love. There was, besides, in my +father's opinion, a something fantastic and fallacious in the cause of +Pepita's coldness, that must in the end wear away. Pepita did not wish +to retire to a convent, nor did she incline to a penitential life. +Notwithstanding her seclusion and her piety, it was easy to see that she +took delight in pleasing. Her neatness and the exquisite care she took +of her person had in them little of the cenobite. The cause of her +coldness, then, my father declared to be, without a doubt, her pride--a +pride, to a certain extent, well founded. She is naturally elegant and +distinguished in appearance; both by her force of character and by her +intelligence she is superior to those who surround her, no matter how +she may seek, through modesty, to disguise it. How, then, should she +bestow her hand upon any of the rustics who, up to the present time, +have been her suitors? She imagines that her soul is filled with a +mystic love of God, and that God only can satisfy it, because thus far +no mortal has crossed her path intelligent enough and agreeable enough +to make her forget even her image of the _Infant Jesus_. "Although it +may seem to indicate a want of modesty on my part," added my father, "I +flatter myself with being such a one." + +Such, dear uncle, are the occupations and the projects of my father +here, and such the matters, so foreign to my nature, and to my aims and +thoughts, of which he speaks to me with frequency, and on which he +requires me to give an opinion. + +It would almost seem as if your too indulgent opinion of my judgment had +extended itself to the people here, for they all tell me their troubles, +and ask my advice as to the course they should adopt. Even the reverend +vicar, exposing himself to the risk of betraying what might be called +secrets of confession, has already come to consult me in regard to +several cases of conscience that have presented themselves to him in the +confessional. + +One of these cases, related, like all the others, with much mystery, and +without revealing the name of the person concerned, has greatly +interested me. + +The reverend vicar tells me that a certain penitent of his is troubled +by scruples of conscience, because, while she feels herself irresistibly +attracted toward a solitary and contemplative life, she yet fears at +times that this devout fervor is not accompanied by a true humility, but +that it is in part excited by, and has its source in, the demon of pride +himself. + +To love God in all things, to seek him in the inmost recesses of the +soul wherein he dwells, to purify ourselves from all earthly passions +and affections, in order to unite ourselves to him--these are, in truth, +pious aspirations and virtuous inclinations; but the doubt arises in +determining whether the source of these aspirations and inclinations be +not an exaggerated self-love. "Have they their origin," the penitent it +seems asks herself, "in the thought that I, although unworthy and a +sinner, presume my soul to be of more value than the souls of my +fellow-mortals?--that the interior beauty of my mind and of my will +would be dimmed by harboring affection for the human beings by whom I am +surrounded, and whom I deem unworthy of me? Do I love God above all +things, infinitely, or only more than the little things that I know, +and that I scorn and despise, that can not satisfy my heart? If my piety +is founded upon this feeling, then there are in it two great defects: +the first, that it is not based upon a pure love of God, full of +humility and charity, but on pride; and the second, that this piety, +because it is thus without foundation, is unstable and inefficacious. +For who can be certain that the soul will not forget the love of its +Creator, when it does not love him infinitely, but only because there is +no other being whom it deems worthy of endowing with its love?" + +It is concerning this case of conscience, refined and subtle enough thus +to exercise the mind of a simple rustic, that the reverend vicar has +come to consult me. I would have excused myself from saying anything in +the matter, alleging, as a reason for doing so, my youth and +inexperience; but the reverend vicar has shown himself so persistent in +the matter that I could do no less than discuss the question with him. I +said--and it would rejoice me greatly should you concur in my +opinion--that what this troubled penitent requires is to regard those +who surround her with greater benevolence; to try to throw over their +faults--instead of analyzing and dissecting them with the scalpel of +criticism--the mantle of charity, bringing into relief and dwelling upon +their good qualities, to the end that she may esteem and love them; to +endeavor, in fine, to behold in every human being an object worthy of +her love, a true fellow-creature, her equal, a soul wherein there is a +treasure of good qualities and virtues--a being made, in short, in the +image and likeness of God. Entertaining this exalted view of our +surroundings, loving and esteeming others for what they are, and as more +than they are, striving not to hold ourselves superior to them in +anything, but, on the contrary, searching courageously in the depths of +our own conscience for the purpose of discovering all our faults and +sins, and thus acquiring a devout humility and contempt of self, the +heart will feel itself full of human affection, and, instead of +despising, will value highly the worth of things and of persons, so that +if afterward divine love should, with irresistible power, erect itself +upon and tower above this foundation, there can then be no fear but that +such a love has its origin, not in an exaggerated self-esteem, in pride, +or in an unjust contempt for our neighbor, but in a pure and holy +contemplation of the Infinite Beauty and Goodness. + +If, as I suspect, it be Pepita Ximenez who has consulted the reverend +vicar in regard to these doubts and tribulations, I think my father can +not yet flatter himself with being very dear to her; but, if the vicar +should resolve on giving her my advice, and she accepts it and acts upon +it, then she will either become a sort of Maria de Agreda, a +self-conscious recluse, or, what is more probable, she will cast away +mysticism and coldness altogether, and will consent to accept, without +further caviling, the hand and heart of my father who is in no respect +her inferior. + +_April 4th._ + +My life in this place begins, from its monotony, to be wearisome; and +not because it is, physically, less active here than it was elsewhere, +for I walk and ride a great deal, and make excursions into the country, +and, to please my father, visit the club-house and go to parties, and +live, in short, in a state of dissatisfaction with myself and with my +surroundings. But my intellectual life is a blank; I read nothing, and +there is hardly a moment left me in which to reflect and meditate with +tranquillity; and, as reflection and meditation were what constituted +the chief charm of my existence, my life without them seems to me +monotonous. Thanks to the patience which you have recommended to me for +every occasion, I am able to endure it. + +Another thing that prevents my spirit from being completely at rest is +the longing, that becomes every day more ardent within me, to embrace +that life to which, without a moment's vacillation, I have been for +years inclined. It seems to me that, in those moments when I feel +myself so near to the realization of the constant dream of my life, it +is something like a profanation to allow my mind to be distracted by +other objects. So much does this idea torment me, and to so many doubts +does it give rise within me, that my admiration for the beauty of things +created--of the heavens so full of stars, in these serene nights of +spring, and in this favored region of Andalusia; of these smiling +fields, now covered with verdure, and of these cool and pleasant +gardens, abounding in shady and delightful walks, in gently flowing +streams and rivulets, in sequestered nooks, in birds that enliven them +with song, and in flowers and odorous herbs--this admiration and +enthusiasm, I repeat, which formerly seemed to me in perfect harmony +with the religious feeling that filled my soul, animating and exalting +it, instead of weakening it, seems to me now almost a sinful +distraction, and an unpardonable forgetfulness of the eternal for the +temporal, of the uncreated and the spiritual for the material and +created. Although I have made but little progress in virtue, although my +mind is never free from the phantasms of the imagination, although the +interior man is never exempt in me from the influence of external +impressions, and from the need of employing in meditation the fatiguing +argumentative method; although I can not, by an effort of love, withdraw +myself to the very center of pure intelligence, to the loftiest sphere +of thought, in order to behold there goodness and truth divested of +images and forms, yet I confess to you that the method of mental prayer, +unrestricted by set forms, makes me afraid. Even rational meditation +inspires me with distrust. I do not want to employ a process of +reasoning in order to know God, nor to adduce arguments for loving, in +order to love him. I desire, by a single effort of the will, to elevate +myself to and be absorbed in the divine contemplation. Oh, that I had +the wings of a dove, to fly to the bosom of him whom my soul loveth! But +what and where are my merits? Where the mortifications, the extended +prayers, and the fasting? What have I done, O my God, that thou shouldst +favor me? + +I know that the ungodly of the present day accuse--though without any +foundation whatever--our holy religion of inciting souls to abhor the +things of this world, to despise or to contemn nature, perhaps to fear +it also, as if there were in it something diabolical, placing all their +affections on what these ungodly call the monstrous egotism of divine +love, for it is herself, they say, the soul loves in loving God; I know, +too, that this is not the case; that the divine love is charity, and +that to love God is to love all things, for all things are in God, in a +supreme and ineffable manner. I know that I commit no sin in loving +material things for the love of God, which is to love them for +themselves, righteously; for what are material things but the +manifestation, the creation of the love of God? And, notwithstanding, I +know not what undefinable fear, what unwonted scruple, what vague and +scarcely perceptible remorse torments me now, when, as formerly, as in +other days of my youth, as in childhood itself, I feel an effusion of +tenderness, a sort of ecstasy of enthusiasm, on penetrating into some +leafy grove, on hearing the song of the nightingale, or the twittering +of the swallows, or the tender cooing of the dove; on looking at the +flowers, on beholding the stars. I imagine, at times, that there is in +all this something of sensual pleasure, a something that makes me +forget, for the moment at least, more lofty aspirations. I do not desire +that in me the spirit should sin against the flesh; but neither do I +desire, on the other hand, that the beauty of the material world--that +its delights, even those most delicate, subtle, and ethereal ones that +are perceived rather by the spirit than by the senses, such as the soft +sigh of the zephyr, laden with rural scents, the song of the birds, the +peaceful and majestic silence of the night in these gardens and +orchards--should distract me from the contemplation of higher beauty, or +weaken, even for a moment, my love toward Him who has created this +harmonious fabric of the world. + +I know that all these material things are like the letters of a book, +the signs and characters in which the soul, eager for knowledge, may +find a hidden meaning, and decipher and discover the beauty of God that, +though but dimly, is shadowed forth in them, and of which they are the +pictures or rather emblems, because they do not represent, but only +symbolize it. On this distinction I dwell at times to strengthen my +scruples and mortify the flesh. For, I consider, if I love the beauty of +earthly things as they are, it is idolatry; I ought to love this beauty +as a sign, as the symbol of a beauty occult and divine, and infinitely +superior to it in all things. + +A few days ago I completed my twenty-second year. Heretofore, my +religious fervor has been such that I have felt no other love than the +immaculate love of God himself and of his holy religion, which I desire +to diffuse and see triumphant in all the regions of the earth. I confess +that something of a profane sentiment has mingled itself with this +purity of affection. You are aware of this; I have told it to you many +times, and you, regarding me with your accustomed indulgence, have +answered me that man is not an angel, and that even to aspire to so +great a degree of perfection is pride; that I should endeavor to +moderate these sentiments rather than seek to eradicate them entirely. +Love of knowledge, a desire for the reputation which is founded on the +possession of knowledge, even a not unfavorable opinion of one's own +merits, these, even when kept within just bounds, though guarded and +moderated by Christian humility, and directed toward a good end, have in +them, doubtless, something of selfishness, but they may serve as a +stimulus and a support to the noblest and most constant resolutions. The +scruples that trouble my conscience now, therefore, have not their +source in pride, in an overweening self-confidence, in a desire for +worldly fame, or in a too great love of knowledge. Nothing of this +nature it is that troubles me; nothing bearing any relation to +self-conceit, but, in a certain sense, something entirely opposed to it. +I feel a lassitude, a debility and abandonment of the will so great--I +am so ready to weep for tenderness when I see a little flower, when I +contemplate the ray, mysterious, tenuous, and swift, of a remote +star--that it almost makes me afraid. + +Tell me what you think of these things; and if there be not something +morbid in this disposition of my mind. + +_April 8th._ + +The amusements of the country, in which, very much against my will, I am +compelled to take part, still go on. + +My father has taken me to see almost all his plantations, and he and his +friends are astonished to find me not altogether ignorant in matters +pertaining to the country. It would seem as if, in their eyes, the study +of theology, to which I have dedicated myself, were incompatible with a +familiarity with Nature. How much have they not wondered at my +knowledge, on seeing me discriminate, among the vines that have only +just begun to sprout, the common from the choice varieties! How much +have they not wondered, too, at my being able to distinguish, among the +young plants in the fields, the shoots of the barley from those of the +bean; at my being familiar with many fruit and shade trees; at my +knowing the names of many plants, even, that grow spontaneously in the +woods, as well as something of their properties and virtues! + +Pepita Ximenez, who has heard through my father of the delight I take in +the gardens here, has invited me to visit one that she owns at a short +distance from the village, and eat the early strawberries that grow +there. This caprice of Pepita's to show so many little attentions to my +father, while at the same time she declines his addresses, seems to me +at times to partake somewhat of coquetry, and to be worthy of +reprobation. But when next I see her, and find her so natural, so frank +and so simple, this bad opinion is dispelled, and I can not believe her +to have any other end in view than to maintain the friendly relations +that exist between her and our family. + +Be this as it may, yesterday afternoon we went to Pepita's garden. It is +charmingly situated, and as delightful and picturesque a place as one +can imagine. The river, that by means of innumerable drains waters +almost all these gardens, falls into a deep ravine, bordered on both +sides by white and black poplars, osiers, flowering oleanders, and other +leafy trees. The waterfall, clear and transparent, precipitates itself +into this ravine, sending up a cloud of spray, and then follows its +tortuous course by a channel formed for it by Nature herself, enameling +its banks with a thousand plants and flowers, and just now covering them +with a multitude of violets. The declivity at the end of the garden is +full of walnut, hazel, fig, and other fruit trees; and in the level +portion are beds planted with strawberries and vegetables, tomatoes, +potatoes, beans, and peppers. There is also a little flower-garden, with +a great abundance of flowers, of the kinds most commonly cultivated +here. Roses especially abound, and of these there are innumerable +varieties. The house of the gardener is prettier and cleaner than the +houses of its class that one is accustomed to see in this part of the +country; and near it there is another smaller building, dedicated to the +use of the mistress of the place, where Pepita regaled us with a +sumptuous collation. The pretext for this collation was the +strawberries, to eat which was the chief purpose of our visit. The +quantity of strawberries, considering the earliness of the season, was +astonishing. They were served with the milk of goats belonging also to +Pepita. + +There were present at this banquet the doctor, the notary, my aunt +Casilda, my father, and myself, and of course the indispensable vicar, +spiritual father, and, more than spiritual father, admirer and perpetual +eulogist of Pepita. + +By a sort of sybaritic refinement, it was not by the gardener, nor his +wife, nor the son of the gardener, nor by any other rustic, that we were +served at this banquet, but by two lovely girls, confidential servants, +in a manner, of Pepita's, dressed like peasants, but with the greatest +neatness and even elegance. They wore gowns of gay-colored percale, +short, and confined at the waist, and around their shoulders silk +handkerchiefs. Their lustrous and abundant black hair, without covering, +was braided and arranged in a knot behind; and in front they wore curls +confined to the head by large hair-pins, here called _caracols_. Above +the knot or _chignon_ they each displayed a bunch of fresh roses. + +Pepita's attire, except that it was black and of rich material, was +equally unpretending. Her merino gown, made in the same style as those +of her maids, without being short, was yet not long enough to catch the +dust of the ground. A modest handkerchief of black silk covered also, +according to the usage of the country, her shoulders and bosom; and on +her head she wore no other ornament, either flower or jewel, than that +of her own blonde tresses. + +The only particular, with respect to Pepita, in which I observed a +certain fastidiousness, and in which she departed from the customs of +the country-people, was in wearing gloves. It is evident that she takes +great care of her hands, and is, perhaps, to a certain extent, vain of +their beauty and whiteness, as well as of her rose-colored and polished +nails; but if this be so, it is to be pardoned to the weakness of the +flesh; and indeed, if I remember aright, I think that St. Theresa, in +her youth, had this same species of vanity, which did not prevent her, +however, from becoming a great saint. + +In truth, I can understand, even though I do not excuse, this little +piece of vanity. It is so distinguished, so aristocratic to possess a +beautiful hand! I even think, at times, that there is something +symbolic in it. The hand is the instrument by which we execute our +works, the sign of our nobility, the means by which the intellect gives +form and shape to its artistic conceptions, by which it gives reality to +the mandates of its will, by which it exercises the dominion that God +conceded to man over all other creatures. The rough, strong, sinewy, +horny hand, it may be, of a laborer, a workman, testifies nobly to this +dominion, but on its rudest and least intellectual side. The hands of +Pepita, on the contrary, transparent almost, like alabaster, but +rosy-hued, and in which one can almost see the pure and subtle blood +circulate that gives to the veins their faint, bluish tinge--these +hands, I say, with their tapering fingers, and unrivaled purity of +outline, seem the symbol of the magic power, the mysterious dominion, +that the human spirit holds and exercises, without the intervention of +material force, over all those visible things that are the creation of +God by a direct act of his will, and which man, as the instrument of +God, improves and completes. It would be impossible to suppose that any +one with hands like Pepita's should have an impure thought, a gross +desire, an unworthy purpose at variance with the purity of the hands +that would be called upon to put them into effect. + +It is unnecessary to say that my father appeared as much charmed with +Pepita, and she as attentive and affectionate toward him, as always; +though her affection seemed, perhaps, of a character more filial than he +could have wished. The fact is, that my father, notwithstanding the +reputation he has of being in general but little respectful or reverent +toward women, treats this one woman with such respect and consideration +that not even Amadis, in the most devoted period of his wooing, showed +greater toward Oriana. Not a single word that might shock the ear, no +indelicate or inopportune compliment, no coarse jest, of the kind the +Andalusians permit themselves so frequently to employ, does he ever +indulge in. Hardly does he dare say to Pepita, "What beautiful eyes you +have!" and, indeed, should he say so, he would only speak the truth, for +Pepita's eyes are large, green as those of Circe, expressive, and well +shaped. And what enhances their beauty is that she seems unaware of all +this, for there is not to be detected in her the slightest wish to +please or attract any one by the sweetness of her glances. One would say +she thought eyes were only made to see with, and for no other purpose; +the contrary of what I suppose to be the opinion, according to what I +have heard, of the greater number of young and pretty women, who use +their eyes as a weapon of offense, or as a sort of electric battery, by +means of which to subdue hearts and captivate them. Not like those, +indeed, are Pepita's eyes, wherein dwell a peace and a serenity as of +heaven. And yet it can not be said that there is anything of coldness in +their glance. Her eyes are full of charity and sweetness. They rest with +tenderness on a ray of light, on a flower, on the commonest object in +nature; but with greater tenderness still, with signs of a softer +feeling, more human and benign, do they rest on her fellow-man, without +his daring to imagine in that tranquil and serene glance, however young +or handsome or conceited he may be, anything more than charity and love +toward a fellow-man, or, at most, a friendly preference. + +I sometimes wonder if all this can be studied, and if Pepita be, in +truth, an accomplished actress; but the acting would be so perfect, and +so purposeless the play, that it seems to me, after all, impossible that +this should be the case. Nature herself it is, then, who serves as +teacher and as type for that glance and for those eyes. First, Pepita +loved her mother; then circumstances led her to love Don Gumersindo +through duty, as the companion of her existence; and then, doubtless, +all passion that any earthly object could inspire was extinguished in +her breast, and she loved God, and loved material objects for the love +of God; and so arrived at last at a peaceful and even enviable +condition of spirit, in which, if there be anything to censure, it is +perhaps a certain vanity of which she is herself unconscious. It is very +convenient to love in this mild fashion, without allowing ourselves to +be disturbed by our feelings, to have no passion to combat, to make of +our love and affection for others an addition to, and, as it were, the +complement of self-love. + +I ask myself at times if, when I censure this state of mind in Pepita, +it be not myself I censure. How do I know what passes in the soul of +this woman that I should censure her? Perhaps, in thinking I behold her +soul, it is my own soul that I behold. I never had nor have I now any +passion to conquer. All my virtuous inclinations, all my instincts, good +or bad, tend, thanks to your wise teachings, without obstacle or +impediment, to the furtherance of the one purpose. In the fulfillment of +this purpose, I should find not only my noble and disinterested desires, +but my selfish ones also, satisfied--my love of glory, my desire for +knowledge, my curiosity to see distant lands, my longing for name and +fame. All these are centered in the completing of the career upon which +I have entered. I fancy at times that, in this respect, I am more worthy +of censure than Pepita, supposing her even to be worthy of censure at +all. + +For, as regards myself, I have been invested with the lesser orders; I +have cast out from my soul the vanities of the world; I have received +the tonsure; I have consecrated myself to the service of the altar. Yet +I have a future full of ambition before me, and I dwell with pleasure on +the thought that this future is within my reach. I please myself in +thinking that the conditions I possess for it are real and efficacious; +though I call humility to my aid, at times, to save me from an +overweening self-confidence. + +To what, on the other hand, does this woman aspire, and what are her +hopes? I censure her for the care she takes of her hands, for regarding +her beauty, perhaps, with complacency; I almost censure her for her +neatness, for the attention she bestows on her dress; for a certain +indefinable coquetry there is in the very modesty and simplicity of her +attire. But what! must virtue be slovenly? Must holiness be unclean? Can +not a pure and clean soul rejoice in the cleanliness and purity of the +body also? Is there not something reprehensible in the displeasure with +which I regard the neatness and purity of Pepita? Is this displeasure, +perchance, because she is to be my step-mother? But, perhaps, she does +not wish to be my step-mother! Perhaps she does not love my father! It +is true, indeed, that women are incomprehensible. It may be that in her +secret heart she already feels inclined to return my father's +affection, and marry him, though, in accordance with the saying that +"what is worth much, costs much," she chooses first to torment him with +her affected coldness, to reduce him to unquestioning submission, to put +his constancy to the proof, and then means to end by quietly saying Yes. +We shall see. + +What there is no question about is, that our garden-party was decorously +merry. We talked of flowers, of fruit, of grafts, of planting, and of +innumerable other things relating to husbandry, Pepita displaying her +knowledge of agriculture in rivalry with my father, with myself, and +with the reverend vicar, who listens with open mouth to every word she +utters, and declares that in the seventy-odd years of his life, and +during his many wanderings, in the course of which he has traversed +almost the whole of Andalusia, he has never known a woman more discreet +or more judicious in all she thinks and says than she. + +On returning home from any of these excursions, I renew my entreaties to +my father to allow me to go back to you, in order that the wished-for +moment may at last arrive in which I shall see myself elevated to the +priesthood. But my father is so pleased to have me with him, he is so +happy here in the village, taking care of his plantations, exercising +the judicial and executive authority of squire, paying homage to Pepita, +and consulting her in everything as his Egeria, that he always finds, +and will find perhaps for months to come, some plausible pretext to keep +me here. Now he has to clarify the wine of I know not how many casks; +now he has to decant more wine still; now it is necessary to hoe around +the vines; now to plow the olive-groves and dig around the roots of the +olives; in fine, he keeps me here against my wishes--though I should not +say "against my wishes," for it gives me great pleasure to be with my +father, who is so good to me. + +The evil is, that, with this way of life, I fear I shall grow too +material. I am conscious in my devotions of a certain aridity of spirit. +My religious fervor diminishes; common life begins to penetrate, to +infiltrate itself into my nature; when I pray, I suffer distractions; in +my solitary meditations, when the soul should raise itself up to God, I +can no longer concentrate my thought as formerly. My sensibility of +heart, on the other hand, that refuses to occupy itself with any worthy +object, that does not employ and consume itself on its legitimate ends, +wells forth and, as it were, overflows, at times, for objects and under +circumstances that have something in them of puerile, that seem to me +ridiculous, of which I am ashamed. If I awaken in the silence of the +night and hear by chance some love-lorn rustic singing, to the sound of +his badly played guitar, a verse of a _fandango_ or a _rondeña_, neither +very discreet, nor very poetical, nor very delicate, I am wont to be +affected as if I were listening to some celestial melody; a feeling of +pity, childish and insensate, comes over me at times. The other day the +children of my father's overseer stole a nest full of young sparrows, +and on seeing the little birds, not yet fledged, torn thus violently +from their tender mother, I felt a sudden pang of anguish, and I confess +I could not restrain my tears. A few days before this, a peasant had +brought in from the fields a calf that had broken its leg; he was about +to carry it to the slaughter-house, and came to ask my father what part +of it he wished for his table. My father answered, the head and the +feet, and a few pounds of the flesh. I was touched by compassion on +seeing the calf, and, but that shame prevented me, would have bought it +from the man, in the hope of curing and keeping it alive. In fine, my +dear uncle, nothing less than the confidence I have with you would make +me recount to you these signs of an extravagant and restless emotion, so +that you may judge by them how necessary it is that I should return to +my former way of life, to my studies, to my lofty speculations, and be +at last elevated to the priesthood, in order to provide with its fit and +proper aliment the fire that consumes my soul. + +_April 14th._ + +I continue to lead the same life as usual, and am detained here still by +my father's entreaties. + +The greatest pleasure I enjoy, after that of being with him, is my +intercourse and conversation with the reverend vicar, with whom I am in +the habit of taking long walks. It seems incredible that a man of his +age--for he must be near eighty--should be so strong and active, and so +good a walker. I grow tired sooner than he; and there is no rough road, +no wild place, no rugged hill-top, in the neighborhood, where we have +not been. + +The reverend vicar is reconciling me, in a great degree, with the +Spanish clergy, whom I have stigmatized, at times, in speaking with you, +as but little enlightened. How much more to be admired, I often say to +myself, is this man, so full of candor and benevolence, so simple and +affectionate, than one who may have read many books, but in whose soul +the flame of charity burns less brightly than, fed by the purest and +sincerest faith, it does in his! Do not suppose from this that the +understanding of the reverend vicar is a limited one; his is a spirit +uncultured, indeed, but clear and sagacious. At times I fancy that the +good opinion I entertain of him may be due to the attention with which +he listens to me; but, if this be not the case, it seems to me that he +reasons on every subject with remarkable perspicacity, and that he knows +how to unite an ardent love of our holy religion with an appreciation of +all the good things that modern civilization has brought us. I am +charmed, above all, by the simplicity, the sobriety of sentiment, the +naturalness, in short, with which the reverend vicar performs the most +disagreeable works of charity. There is no misfortune he does not seek +to alleviate, no suffering he does not strive to console, no error he +does not endeavor to repair, no necessity which he does not hasten +solicitously to relieve. + +In all this, it must be confessed, he has a powerful auxiliary in +Pepita, whose piety and compassionate disposition he is always +extolling. + +This species of homage which the vicar pays to Pepita is founded upon, +and goes side by side with, the practice of a thousand good works--the +giving of alms, prayer, public worship, and the care of the poor. Pepita +not only gives alms for the poor, but also gives money for _novenas_, +sermons, and other observances of the Church. If the altars of the +parish are gay, at times, with beautiful flowers, these flowers are due +to the bounty of Pepita who has sent them from her garden. If Our Lady +of Sorrows, instead of her old worn cloak, wears to-day a resplendent +and magnificent mantle of black velvet, embroidered with silver, Pepita +it is who has paid for it. + +These, and other similar acts of beneficence, the vicar is always +extolling and magnifying. Thus it is, when I am not speaking of my own +aims, of my vocation, of my studies, to hear about which gives the +reverend vicar great delight, and keeps him hanging upon my words, when +it is he who speaks and I who listen, that, after a thousand turns, he +always ends by speaking of Pepita Ximenez. And of whom, indeed, should +the reverend vicar speak to me? His intercourse with the doctor, with +the apothecary, with the rich husbandmen of the place, hardly gives +motive for three words of conversation. As the reverend vicar possesses +the very rare quality, in one bred in the country, of not being fond of +scandal, or of meddling in other people's affairs, he has no one to +speak of but Pepita, whom he visits frequently, and with whom, as may be +gathered from what he says, he is in the habit of holding the most +familiar colloquies. + +I know not what books Pepita Ximenez has read, nor what education she +may have received; but, from what the reverend vicar says, it may be +deduced that she possesses a restless soul and an inquiring spirit, to +which a multiplicity of questions and problems present themselves that +she longs to elucidate and resolve, bringing them for that purpose +before the reverend vicar, whom she thus puts into a state of agreeable +perplexity. + +This man, educated in country fashion, a priest whose breviary is, as +one may say, his library, possesses an understanding open to the light +of truth, but is wanting in original power, and thus the problems and +questions Pepita presents to him open before him new horizons and new +paths, nebulous and vague indeed, and which he did not even imagine to +exist, which he is not able to follow with exactitude, but whose +vagueness, novelty, and mystery enchant him. + +The vicar is not ignorant of the danger of all this, and that he and +Pepita expose themselves to fall, without knowing it, into some heresy; +but he tranquillizes his conscience with the thought that, although very +far from being a great theologian, he has his catechism at his fingers' +ends, he has confidence in God that he will illuminate his spirit, and +he hopes not to be led into error, and takes it for granted that Pepita +will follow his counsels, and never deviate from the right path. + +Thus do both form to themselves a thousand poetical conceptions, full of +charm, although vague, of all the mysteries of our religion and the +articles of our faith. Great is the devotion they profess to the most +holy Virgin, and I am astonished to see how they are able to blend the +popular idea or conception of the Virgin with some of the sublimest +theological thoughts. + +From what the vicar relates, I can perceive that Pepita Ximenez's soul, +in the midst of its apparent calmness and serenity, is transfixed by the +sharp arrow of suffering; there is in it a love of purity in +contradiction with her past life. Pepita loved Don Gumersindo as her +companion, as her benefactor, as the man to whom she owed everything; +but she is tortured, she is humiliated by the recollection that Don +Gumersindo was her husband. + +In her devotion to the Virgin there may be detected a feeling of painful +humiliation, of suffering, of sadness, produced by the recollection of +her ignoble and childless marriage. + +Even in her adoration of the _Infant Jesus_, in the beautiful carved +image she has in her house, there is something of maternal love that +lacks an object on which to expend its tenderness, of maternal love that +seeks this object in a being not born of sin and impurity. + +The vicar says that Pepita worships the _Infant Jesus_ as her God, but +that she also loves him with the maternal tenderness she would feel for +a son, if she had one, and whom she had no cause to regard with any +other feeling than affection. The vicar sees that Pepita, in her prayers +to the Holy Virgin, and in her care of her beautiful image of the Child +Jesus, has in her thoughts the ideal Mother and the ideal Son, both +alike immaculate. + +I confess that I know not what to think of all these singularities. I +know so little of women! What the vicar tells me of Pepita surprises me; +and yet, though on the whole I believe her to be good, rather than the +contrary, she inspires me at times with a certain fear on my father's +account. Notwithstanding his fifty-five years, I believe that he is in +love; and Pepita, although virtuous through conviction, may, without +premeditating or intending it, be an instrument of the spirit of evil, +may practice a species of coquetry, involuntary and instinctive, more +irresistible, efficacious, and fatal, than that which proceeds from +premeditation, calculation, and reasoning. + +Who knows, I say to myself at times, notwithstanding her prayers, her +secluded and devout life, her alms and her gifts to the churches, on all +which is based the affection that the vicar entertains for her, if there +be not also an earthly spell, if there be not something of diabolical +magic in the arts she practices, and with which she deludes and beguiles +this simple vicar, so that he thinks and speaks only of her on all +occasions? + +The very influence that Pepita exercises over a man so incredulous as my +father, a man whose nature is so vigorous and so little sentimental, +has in it, in truth, something extraordinary. + +Nor do the good works of Pepita suffice to explain the respect and +affection with which she inspires these country-people in general. On +the rare occasions on which she leaves her house, the little children +run to meet her and kiss her hand; the young girls smile, and salute her +with affection; and the men take off their hats, as she passes, and +incline themselves before her with the most spontaneous reverence and +the most natural good-feeling. + +Pepita Ximenez, whom many of the villagers have known since she was +born, and who, to the knowledge of every one here, lived in poverty with +her mother, until her marriage to the decrepid and avaricious Don +Gumersindo, has caused all this to be forgotten, and is now looked upon +as a wondrous being, a visitant, pure and radiant, from some distant +land, from some higher sphere, and is regarded by her fellow-townspeople +with affectionate esteem, and something like loving admiration. + +I see that I am inadvertently falling into the same fault that I censure +in the reverend vicar, and that I speak to you of nothing but Pepita. +But this is natural. Here no one speaks of anything else. One would +suppose the whole place to be full of the spirit, of the thought, of +the image, of this singular woman, in regard to whom I have not been +able to determine if she be an angel or an accomplished coquette, full +of _instinctive astuteness_, although the words may seem to involve a +contradiction. For I am fully convicted in my own mind that this woman +does not play the coquette, nor seek to gain the good-will of others, in +order to gratify her vanity. + +Pepita's soul is full of candor and sincerity. One has only to see her, +to be convinced of this. Her dignified and graceful bearing, her slender +figure, the smoothness and clearness of her forehead head, the soft and +pure light of her eyes, all blend into a fitting harmony, in which there +is not a single discordant note. + +How deeply I regret having come to this place, and having remained here +so long! I had passed my life in your house, and in the seminary; I had +seen and known no one but my companions and my teachers; I knew nothing +of the world but through speculation and through theory; and suddenly I +find myself thrown into the midst of this world, though it be only that +of a village; and distracted from my studies, meditations, and prayers +by a thousand profane objects. + +_April 20th._ + +Your last letters, dearest uncle, have been a welcome consolation to my +soul. Benevolent, as always, you admonish and enlighten me with prudent +and useful reflections. + +It is true, my impetuosity is worthy of reprobation. I wish to attain my +aims, without making use of the means requisite to their attainment; I +wish to reach the journey's end, without first treading, step by step, +the rough and thorny path. + +I complain of an aridity of spirit in prayer, of inability to fix my +thoughts, of a proneness to dissipate my tenderness on childish objects; +I desire to elevate myself to and be absorbed in God, to attain at once +to the contemplation of essential being, and yet I disdain mental prayer +and rational and discursive meditation. How, without attaining to its +purity, how, without beholding its light, can I hope to enjoy the +delights of divine love? + +I am by nature arrogant, and I shall therefore endeavor to humiliate +myself in my own eyes, in order that God may not suffer the spirit of +evil, in punishment of my pride and presumption, to cover me with +humiliation. + +I do not believe that it would be easy for me to fall into a lapse from +virtue so shameful and unexpected as the one you fear. I do not confide +in myself; I confide in the mercy of God and in his grace; and I trust +they will not fail me. + +Nevertheless, you are altogether right in advising me to abstain from +forming ties of friendship with Pepita Ximenez; I am far enough from +being bound to her by any tie. + +I am not ignorant that, when those holy men and saints, who should serve +us as models and examples, were bound in close intimacy and affection +with women, it was in their old age, or when they were already proved +and disciplined by penitence, or when there existed a noticeable +disproportion in years between them and the pious women they elected to +be their friends; as is related of St. Jerome and St. Paulina, and of +St. John of the Cross and St. Theresa. And even thus, even with a purely +spiritual affection, I know it is possible to sin through excess. For +God only should occupy the soul as Lord and Spouse, and any other being +who dwells in it should do so but as the friend, the servant, the +creation of the Spouse, and as one in whom the Spouse delights. + +Do not think, however, that I vaunt myself on being invincible, that I +despise danger, and defy and seek it. He who loves danger shall perish +therein. And if the prophet-king, though so agreeable in the sight of +God and so favored of him, and Solomon, notwithstanding his supernatural +and God-given wisdom, were troubled and fell into sin because God turned +his face away from them, what have not I to fear, miserable sinner that +I am, so young, so inexperienced in the wiles of the devil, and so +wavering and unpracticed in the combats of virtue! + +Filled with a salutary fear of God, and imbued with a fitting distrust +of my own weakness, I shall not be forgetful of your counsels and your +prudent admonitions; and I shall pray, meantime, with fervor, and +meditate on holy things, in order to abhor the things of the world, in +so far as they deserve abhorrence; but of this I may assure you: that, +however deeply I penetrate into the depths of my conscience, however +carefully I search its inmost recesses, I have thus far discovered +nothing to make me share your fears. + +If my former letters are full of encomiums on the virtue of Pepita, it +is the fault of my father and of the reverend vicar, and not mine; for, +at first, far from being friendly to this woman, I was unjustly +prejudiced against her. + +As for the beauty and physical grace of Pepita, be assured that I have +contemplated them with entire purity of thought, and, though it cost me +something to say it, and may cost you a little to hear it, I confess +that, if any cloud has arisen to dim the clear and serene image of +Pepita in the mirror of my soul, it has been owing to your harsh +suspicions, which, for an instant, have almost made me suspect myself. + +But no; what thought have I ever entertained with regard to Pepita, what +have I seen or praised in her that should lead any one to suppose me to +have any other feeling for her than friendship, and the admiration, pure +and innocent, that a work of art may inspire, the more especially if it +be the work of the Supreme Artist, and nothing less than the temple +wherein he dwells? + +Besides, dear uncle, I shall have to live in the world, to hold +intercourse with my fellow-beings, to see them, and I can not, for that +reason, pluck out my eyes. You have told me many times that you wish me +to devote myself to a life of action, preaching the divine law, and +making it known in the world, rather than to a contemplative life in the +midst of solitude and isolation. Well, then, this being so, how would +you have me act, in order to avoid seeing Pepita Ximenez? Unless I made +myself ridiculous by closing my own eyes in her presence, how could I +fail to notice the beauty of hers; the clearness, the roseate hue, and +the purity of her complexion, the evenness and pearly whiteness of her +teeth, which she discloses with frequency when she smiles, the fresh +carmin of her lips, the serenity and smoothness of her forehead, and a +thousand other attractions with which Heaven has endowed her? It is true +that for one who bears within his soul the germ of evil thoughts, the +leaven of vice, any one of the impressions that Pepita produces might be +the shock of the steel against the flint, kindling the spark that would +set fire to and consume all around it; but, prepared for this danger, +watching against it, and guarded with the shield of Christian prudence, +I do not think I have anything to fear. Besides, if it be rash to seek +danger, it is cowardly not to be able to face it, or to shun it when it +presents itself. + +Have no fear; I see in Pepita only a beautiful creation of God; and in +God I love her as a sister. If I feel any predilection for her, it is +because of the praises I hear spoken of her by my father, by the +reverend vicar, and by almost every one here. + +For my father's sake it would please me were Pepita to relinquish her +inclination for a life of seclusion, and her purpose to lead it, and to +marry him. But were it not for this--were I to see that my father had +only a caprice and not a genuine passion for her--then I should be glad +that Pepita would remain resolute in her chaste widowhood; and when I +should be far away from here, in India or Japan or some other yet more +dangerous mission, I might find a consolation in writing to her of my +wanderings and labors; and, when I returned here in my old age, it +would be a great pleasure for me to be on friendly terms with her, who +would also then be aged, and to hold spiritual colloquies with her, and +chats of the same sort as those the father vicar now holds with her. At +present, however, as I am but a young man, I see but little of Pepita; I +hardly speak to her. I prefer to be thought bashful, shy, ill-bred, and +rude, rather than give the least occasion--not that I should be thought +to feel for her in reality what I ought not to feel--but even for +suspicion or for scandal. + +As for Pepita herself, not even in the most remote degree do I share the +apprehension that, as a vague suspicion, you allow me to perceive. What +projects could she form with respect to a man who, in two or three +months more, is to be a priest! She--who has treated so many others with +disdain--why should she be attracted by me? I know myself well, and I +know that, fortunately, I am not capable of inspiring a passion. They +say I am not ill-looking; but I am awkward, dull, shy, wanting in +amiability; I bear the stamp of what I am, a humble student. What am I, +compared with the gallant if somewhat rustic youths who have paid court +to Pepita--agile horsemen, discreet and agreeable in conversation, +Nimrods in the chase, skilled in all bodily exercises, singers of renown +in all the fairs of Andalusia, and graceful and accomplished in the +dance? If Pepita has scorned all these, how should she now think of me, +and conceive the diabolical desire, and the more than diabolical +project, of troubling the peace of my soul, of making me abandon my +vocation, perhaps of plunging me into perdition? No, it is not possible. +Pepita I believe to be good, and myself--and I say it in all +sincerity--insignificant; insignificant, be it understood, so far as +inspiring her with love is concerned, but not too insignificant to be +her friend, to merit her esteem, to be the object, one day, in a certain +sense, of her preference, when I shall have succeeded in making myself +worthy of this preference by a holy and laborious life. + +I ask you to forgive me if I have vindicated myself too warmly from +certain half-expressed suspicions in your letter--suspicions that sound +like accusations, or like prophetic warnings. + +I do not complain of these suspicions: you have given me judicious +advice, the greater part of which I accept, and intend to follow; if you +have gone a little beyond what is just, in your suspicions, it is owing, +without doubt, to the interest you take in me, and for which I am +grateful to you with all my heart. + +_May 4th._ + +It is strange that in so many days I should not have had time to write +to you, but such is the fact. My father does not let me rest a moment, +and I am besieged by visitors. + +In large cities it is easy to avoid seeing visitors, to isolate one's +self, to create for one's self a solitude, a Thebaid in the midst of the +tumult; in an Andalusian village, and, above all, when one has the honor +of being the son of the squire, it is necessary to live in public. Not +only now to my study, but even to my bedroom, do the reverend vicar, the +notary, my cousin Currito, the son of Doña Casilda, and a hundred +others, penetrate without any one daring to oppose them, waken me if I +am asleep, and carry me off with them wherever they wish. + +The club-house here is not a place of amusement for the evening only, +but for all the hours of the day. From eleven o'clock in the morning it +is full of people, who chat, glance over a paper to learn the news, and +play at _hombra._ There are persons here who spend ten or twelve hours a +day at this game. In short, there is as much enjoyment here as one could +well desire. In order that this enjoyment may be uninterrupted, there +are a great many amusements. Besides _hombra,_ there are many other +games at cards. Checkers, chess, and dominoes are not neglected. And, +finally, there is a decided passion for cock-fighting. + +All this, together with making calls, going to the fields to inspect the +work, settling accounts every night with the overseer, visiting the +wine-vaults and cask-stores, superintending the clarifying, decanting, +and perfecting of the wines, treating with gypsies and horse-dealers for +the purchase, sale, or barter of horses, mules, and donkeys, or with +dealers from Jeres who come to buy our wine in order to convert it into +sherry, are here the daily occupation of the gentry, squirearchy, or +whatever else they may choose to call themselves. On extraordinary +occasions there are other tasks and amusements that give a greater +appearance of animation to everything: as in harvest-time, at the +vintage, and the gathering in of the olives; or when there is a fair or +a bull-fight, either here or in the neighboring village; or when there +is a pilgrimage to the sanctuary of some miraculous image of the Holy +Virgin, where, if it be true that many go through curiosity, or to amuse +themselves, and give to their sweethearts a fairing of a Cupid or a +scapula, many more go through devotion, or in fulfillment of a vow or +promise. One of these sanctuaries is situated at the top of a very high +mountain, yet there are delicate women who, to reach it, will climb, +with bare feet, wounded by the stones and brambles, the steep and +rugged path that leads to it. + +There is, in the life here, a certain charm. For one who has no desire +for fame, no ambition, I can understand that it might be a very easy and +agreeable life. Even solitude may be obtained by an effort. As I am here +only for a short time, I can neither make this effort, nor ought I to do +so; but if I were settled here, I should find no difficulty in secluding +myself--and that, too, without offending any one--for several hours, or +for the whole day, if it were necessary, in order to devote myself to my +studies and meditations. + +Your last letter has troubled me a little. I see that you persist in +your suspicions, and I know not what answer to make, in order to justify +myself, but the answer I have already made you. + +You say that the victory, in a certain kind of warfare, consists in +flight; that to fly is to conquer. Why should I seek to deny what the +apostle and so many holy fathers and doctors of the Church have said? +But you well know that, in this case, flight does not depend upon me. My +father is resolved that I shall not go; he keeps me here against my +will, and I must obey him. The victory must be gained by other means, +then, than by flight. + +To set your mind at rest, I repeat that matters have not gone so far as +you think; that you see them in a much more advanced stage than they +really are. + +There is not the slightest sign that Pepita Ximenez loves me. And even +did she love me, it would be in a different way from that in which those +women loved whom you cite as a salutary warning to me. A lady of our +times, virtuous and well brought up, is neither so susceptible nor so +wanting in decorum as those matrons of whose adventures ancient history +is full. + +The passage you cite from St. John Chrysostom is indeed worthy of +consideration; but it is not altogether applicable to the circumstances. +The great lady that in Of, Thebes, or Diospolis Magna, fell in love with +the favorite son of Jacob, was in all probability extremely handsome. By +such a supposition only can one comprehend the words of the saint, that +it was a greater miracle that Joseph should have passed through this +ordeal unscathed, than that the three young men whom Nebuchadnezzar +caused to be placed in the fiery furnace were not reduced to ashes! + +As far as beauty is concerned, I confess frankly that I can not think +that the wife of the Egyptian prince, chamberlain of the palace of the +Pharaohs, or whatever else may have been his title, was in any degree +superior to Pepita Ximenez. But neither am I endowed with as many gifts +and excellences as was Joseph, nor is Pepita a woman without religion +and without decorum. And even were the circumstances such as he relates, +were all those horrors true, I can only account for the exaggerated +language of St. John Chrysostom by the fact that he lived in the corrupt +capital, half Gentile still, of the Lower Empire, in the midst of that +court whose vices he so harshly censures, and where even the Empress +Eudoxia herself gave an example of scandal and corruption. + +But in our day, when the morality taught in the gospel has penetrated +more deeply into the strata of society, it seems to me an exaggeration +to think the chaste scorn of the son of Jacob any more miraculous than +the material incombustibility of the three young men of Babylon. + +There is one point on which you touch in your letter that encourages and +pleases me greatly. You condemn, as is right, the exaggerated +sentimentality, and the tendency to be easily moved and to weep from +childish motives, from which I told you that I suffered at times; but, +since this disposition of soul, so necessary to combat, exists in me, +you rejoice that it does not affect my prayers and meditations, and +contaminate them. You recognize and praise in me the virile energy that +should animate the passions and the mind that seek to elevate themselves +to God. + +The intelligence that strives to comprehend him must be a vigorous one; +the will that submits itself entirely to him must first have triumphed, +fighting bravely against every appetite, and defeating and putting to +flight every temptation over self. The very passion that, purified and +ardent, has power, even in weak and miserable mortals, to exalt itself, +by an ecstasy of love, to God himself, attaining by a supernatural +illumination to the knowledge of him, is the offspring of a steadfast +and upright character, as well as of the divine grace. This languor, +this debility of the will, this morbid tenderness have nothing in them +in common with charity, with piety, or with divine love. The former are +the attributes of a nature less than feminine; the latter are passions, +if passions they can be called, of angels rather than of men. God will +be my surety, and with his help I will fight for my own salvation. But, +should I sink into perdition, not in disguise nor by capitulation shall +the enemies of the soul and the sins of the flesh enter into the +fortress of my conscience, but with banners flying, laying waste +everything before them by fire and sword, and after a desperate +conflict. + +In the past few days I have had occasion to practice patience in an +extreme degree, and to mortify my self-love in the most cruel manner. My +father, wishing to reciprocate Pepita's compliment of the garden-party, +invited her to visit his villa of the _Pozo de la Solana_. The excursion +took place on the 22d of April. I shall not soon forget that date. + +The _Pozo de la Solana_ is about two leagues distant from the village, +and the only road to it is a bridle-path. We all had to go on horseback. +As I never learned to ride, I had on former occasions accompanied my +father mounted on a pacing mule, gentle and, according to the expression +of Dientes the muleteer, as good as gold, and of easier motion than a +carriage. On the journey to the _Pozo de la Solana_ I went in the same +manner. + +My father, the notary, the apothecary, and my cousin Currito, were +mounted on good horses. My aunt, Doña Casilda, who weighs more than two +hundred and fifty pounds, rode on a large and powerful donkey, seated in +a commodious side-saddle. The reverend vicar rode a gentle and easy mule +like mine. + +As for Pepita Ximenez, who, I supposed, would go also mounted on a +donkey, in the same sort of easy saddle as my aunt--for I was ignorant +that she knew how to ride--she surprised me by making her appearance on +a black and white horse full of fire and spirit. She wore a +riding-habit, and managed her horse with admirable grace and skill. + +I was pleased to see Pepita look so charming on horseback, but I soon +began to foresee and to be mortified by the sorry part I would play, +jogging on in the rear beside my corpulent aunt Casilda and the vicar, +all three as quiet and tranquil as if we were seated in a carriage, +while the gay cavalcade in front would caracole, gallop, trot, and make +a thousand other displays of their horsemanship. + +I fancied on the instant that there was something of compassion in +Pepita's glance as she noted the pitiable appearance I no doubt +presented, seated on my mule. My cousin Currito looked at me with a +mocking smile, and immediately began to make fun of me and to tease me. + +Confess that I deserve credit for my resignation and courage. I +submitted to everything with a good grace, and Currito's jests soon +ceased when he saw that I was invulnerable to them. But what did I not +suffer in secret! The others, now trotting, now galloping, rode in +advance of us, both in going and returning. The vicar and I, with Doña +Casilda between us, rode on, tranquil as the mules we were seated upon, +without hastening or retarding our pace. + +I had not even the consolation of chatting with the vicar, in whose +conversation I find so much pleasure, nor of wrapping myself up in my +own thoughts and giving the reign to my fancy, nor of silently admiring +the beauty of the scenery around us. Doña Casilda is gifted with an +abominable loquacity, and we were obliged to listen to her. She told us +all there is to be told of the gossip of the village; she recounted to +us all her accomplishments; she told us how to make sausages, +brain-puddings, pastry, and innumerable other dishes and delicacies. +There is no one, according to herself, who can rival her in matters +pertaining to the kitchen, or to the dressing of hogs, but Antoñona, the +nurse of Pepita, and now her housekeeper and general manager. I am +already acquainted with this Antoñona, for she goes back and forth +between her mistress's house and ours with messages, and is in truth +extremely handy; as loquacious as Aunt Casilda, but a great deal more +discreet. + +The scenery on the road to the _Pozo de la Solana_ is charming, but my +mind was so disturbed during our journey that I could not enjoy it. When +we arrived at the villa and dismounted, I was relieved of a great load, +as if it had been I who carried the mule, and not the mule who carried +me. + +We then proceeded on foot through the estate, which is magnificent, of +varied character, and extensive. There are vines, old and newly planted, +all on the same boundary-line, that produce more than a hundred and +twenty bushels of grapes; olive-trees that yield to the same amount; +and, finally, a grove of the most majestic oaks that are to be found in +all Andalusia. The water of the _Pozo de la Solana_ forms a clear and +deep brook at which all the birds of the neighborhood come to drink, and +on whose borders they are caught by hundreds, by means of reeds smeared +with bird-lime, or of nets, in the center of which are fastened a cord +and a decoy. All this carried my thoughts back to the sports of my +childhood, and to the many times that I too had gone to catch birds in +the same manner. + +Following the course of the brook, and especially in the ravines, are +many poplars and other tall trees, that, together with the bushes and +the shrubs, form a dark and labyrinthine wood. A thousand fragrant wild +flowers grow there spontaneously, and it would, in truth, be difficult +to imagine anything more secluded and sylvan, more solitary, peaceful, +and silent than this spot. The mind is invaded here, during all the +fervor of noonday, when the sun pours down his light in torrents from a +heaven without a cloud, by the same mysterious terror that visits it at +times in the silent hours of the night. One can understand here the +manner of life of the patriarchs of old, and of the primitive shepherds +and heroes; and the visions and apparitions that appeared to them of +nymphs, of gods, and of angels, in the midst of the noonday brightness. + +As we walked through this thicket, there arrived a moment in which, I +know not how, Pepita and I found ourselves alone together. The others +had remained behind. + +I felt a sudden thrill pass through me. For the first time, and in a +place so solitary, I found myself alone with this woman, while my +thoughts were still dwelling on the noontide apparitions, now sinister, +now gracious, but always supernatural, vouchsafed to the men of remote +ages. + +Pepita had left the long skirt of her riding-habit in the house, and now +wore a short dress that did not interfere with the graceful ease of her +movements. She had on her head a little Andalusian hat, which became her +extremely. She carried in her hand her riding-whip, which I fancied to +myself to be a magic wand by means of which this enchantress might cast +her spells over me. + +I am not afraid to transcribe here these eulogies of her beauty. In this +sylvan scene she appeared to me more beautiful than ever. The precaution +recommended in similar cases by ascetics, to think of her beauty +defaced by sickness and old age, to picture her to myself dead, the prey +of corruption and of the worm, presented itself, against my will, to my +imagination; and I say _against my will_, for I do not concur in the +necessity for such a precaution. No thought of the material, no +suggestion of the evil spirit, troubled my reason, or infected my will +or my senses. + +What did occur to me was an argument, at least to my mind, in disproof +of the efficacy of this precaution. Beauty, the creation of a Sovereign +and Divine Power, may, indeed, be frail and ephemeral, may vanish in an +instant; but the idea of beauty is eternal, and, once perceived by the +mind, it lives there an immortal life. The beauty of this woman, such as +it manifests itself to-day, will disappear in a few short years; the +graceful form, those charming contours, the noble head that raises +itself so proudly above her shoulders, all will be food for loathsome +worms; but though the material must of necessity be transformed, its +idea, the thought through which it was created, abstract beauty, in a +word, who shall destroy this? Does it not exist in the Divine Mind? Once +perceived and known by me, shall it not continue to live in my soul, +triumphing over age and even over death? + +I was meditating thus, striving to tranquillize my spirit and to +dissipate the doubts which you have succeeded in infusing into my mind, +when Pepita and I encountered each other. I was pleased and at the same +time troubled to find myself alone with her--hoping and yet fearing that +the others would join us. + +The silvery voice of Pepita broke the silence, and drew me from my +meditations, saying: + +"How silent you are, Don Luis, and how sad! I am pained to think that it +is, perhaps, through my fault, or partly so at least, that your father +has caused you to spend a disagreeable day in these solitudes, taking +you away from a solitude more congenial, where there would be nothing to +distract your attention from your prayers and pious books." + +I know not what answer I made to this. It must have been something +nonsensical, for my mind was troubled. I did not wish to flatter Pepita +by paying her profane compliments, nor, on the other hand, did I wish to +answer her rudely. + +She continued: + +"You must forgive me if I am wrong, but I fancy that, in addition to the +annoyance of seeing yourself deprived to-day of your favorite +occupation, there is something else that powerfully contributes to your +ill-humor." + +"And what is this something else?" I said; "since you have discovered +it, or fancy you have done so." + +"This something else," responded Pepita, "is a feeling not altogether +becoming in one who is going to be a priest so soon, but very natural in +a young man of twenty-two." + +On hearing this I felt the blood mount to my face, and my face burn. I +imagined a thousand absurdities; I thought myself beset by evil spirits; +I fancied myself tempted by Pepita, who was doubtless about to let me +understand that she knew I loved her. Then my timidity gave place to +haughtiness, and I looked her steadily in the face. There must have been +something laughable in my look, but either Pepita did not observe it, +or, if she did, she concealed the fact with amiable discretion; for she +exclaimed, in the most natural manner: + +"Do not be offended because I find you are not without fault. This that +I have observed seems to me a slight one. You are hurt by the jests of +Currito, and by being compelled to play--speaking profanely--a not very +dignified _rôle_, mounted, like the reverend vicar with his eighty +years, on a placid mule, and not, as a youth of your age and condition +should be, on a spirited horse. The fault is the reverend dean's, to +whom it did not occur that you should learn to ride. To know how to +manage a horse is not opposed to the career you intend to follow, and I +think, now that you are here, that your father might in a few days give +you the necessary instruction to enable you to do so. If you should go +to Persia or to China, where there are no railroads yet, you will make +but a sorry figure in those countries as a bad horseman. It is possible, +even, that, through this want of foresight of the dean's, the missionary +himself may come to lose prestige in the eyes of those barbarians, which +will make it all the more difficult for him to reap the fruits of his +labors." + +This and other arguments Pepita adduced in order to persuade me to learn +to ride on horseback; and I was so convinced of the necessity of a +missionary's being a good horseman, that I promised her to learn at +once, taking my father for a teacher. + +"On the very next expedition we make," I said, "I shall ride the most +spirited horse my father has, instead of the mule I am riding to-day." + +"I shall be very glad of it," responded Pepita, with a smile of +indescribable sweetness. + +At this moment we were joined by the rest of the party, at which I was +secretly rejoiced, though for no other reason than the fear of not being +able to sustain the conversation, and of saying a great many foolish +things, on account of the little experience I have had in conversing +with women. + +After our walk my father's servants spread before us on the fresh grass, +in the most charming spot beside the brook, a rural and abundant +collation. + +The conversation was very animated, and Pepita sustained her part in it +with much discretion and intelligence. My cousin Currito returned to his +jests about my manner of riding and the meekness of my mule. He called +me a theologian, and said that, seated on mule-back, I looked as if I +were dispensing blessings. This time, however, being now firmly resolved +to learn to ride, I answered his jests with sarcastic indifference. I +was silent, nevertheless, with respect to the promise I had just made +Pepita. The latter, doubtless thinking as I did--although we had come to +no understanding in the matter--that silence for the present was +necessary to insure the complete success of the surprise that I would +create afterward by my knowledge of horsemanship, said nothing of our +conversation. Thus it happened, naturally and in the simplest manner, +that a secret existed between us; and it produced in my mind a singular +effect. + +Nothing else worth telling occurred during the day. + +In the afternoon we returned to the village in the same manner in which +we had left it. Yet, seated on my easy-going mule and at the side of my +aunt Casilda, I did not experience the same fatigue or sadness as +before. + +During the whole journey I listened without weariness to my aunt's +stories, amusing myself at times in conjuring up idle fancies. Nothing +of what passes in my soul shall be concealed from you. I confess, then, +that the figure of Pepita was, as it were, the center, or rather the +nucleus and focus of these idle fancies.-- + +The noonday vision in which she had appeared to me in the shadiest and +most sequestered part of the grove, brought to my memory all the +visions, holy and unholy, of wondrous beings, of a condition superior to +ours, that I had read of in sacred authors and in the profane classics. +Pepita appeared to the eyes and on the stage of my fancy in foe, leafy +seclusion of the grove not as she rode before us on horseback but in an +ideal and ethereal fashion, as to Æneas his mother, as Minerva to +Callimachus, as the sylph who, afterward became the mother of Libusa to +the Bohemian Kroco, as Diana to the son of Aristæus, as the angels in +the valley of Mamre to the patriarch, as the hippocentaur to St. Anthony +in the solitude of the wilderness. + +That the vision of Pepita should assume in my mind something of a +supernatural character, seems to me no more to be wondered at than any +of these. For an instant, seeing the consistency of the illusion, I +thought myself tempted by evil spirits; but I reflected that in the few +moments, during which I had been alone with Pepita near the brook of the +Solana, nothing had occurred that was not natural and commonplace; that +it was afterward, as I rode along quietly on my mule, that some demon, +hovering invisible around me, had suggested these extravagant fancies. + +That night I told my father of my desire to learn to ride. I did not +wish to conceal from him that it was Pepita who had suggested this +desire. My father was greatly rejoiced; he embraced me, he kissed me, he +said that now not you only would be my teacher, but that he also would +have the pleasure of teaching me something. He ended by assuring me that +in two or three weeks he would make of me the best horseman of all +Andalusia; able to go to Gibraltar for contraband goods and come back +laden with tobacco and cotton, after eluding the vigilance of the +custom-house officers; fit, in a word, to astonish the riders who show +off their horsemanship in the fairs of Seville and Mairena, and worthy +to press the flanks of Babrecá, Bucephalus, or even of the horses of the +sun themselves, if they should by chance descend to earth, and I could +catch them by the bridle. + +I don't know what you will think of this notion of my learning to ride, +but I take it for granted you will see nothing wrong in it. + +If you could but see how happy my father is, and how he delights in +teaching me! Since the day after the excursion I told you of, I take two +lessons daily. There are days on which the lesson is continuous, for we +spend from morning till night on horseback. During the first week the +lessons took place in the court-yard of the house, which is unpaved, and +which served us as a riding-school. + +We now ride out into the country, but manage so that no one shall see +us. My father does not want me to show myself on horseback in public +until I am able to astonish every one by my fine appearance in the +saddle, as he says. If the vanity natural to a father does not deceive +him, this, it seems, will be very soon, for I have a wonderful aptitude +for riding. + +"It is easy to see that you are my son!" my father exclaims with joy, as +he watches my progress. + +My father is so good that I hope you will pardon him the profane +language and irreverent jests in which he indulges at times. I grieve +for this at the bottom of my soul, but I endure it with patience. These +constant and long-continued lessons have reduced me to a pitiable +condition with blisters. My father enjoins me to write to you that they +are caused by my flagellations. + +As he declares that within a few weeks I shall be an accomplished +horseman, and he does not desire to be superannuated as a master, he +proposes to teach me other accomplishments of a somewhat irregular +character, and sufficiently unsuited to a future priest. At times he +proposes to train me in throwing the bull in order that he may take me +afterward to Seville, where, with lance in hand, on the plains of +Tablada, I shall make the braggarts and the bullies stare. Then he +recalls his own youthful days, when he belonged to the body-guard, and +declares that he will look up his foils, gloves, and masks, and teach me +to fence. And, finally, as my father flatters himself that he can wield +the Sevillian knife better than any one else, he has offered to teach me +even this accomplishment also. + +You can already imagine the answer I make to all this nonsense. My +father replies that, in the good old times, not only the priests but +even the bishops themselves rode about the country on horseback, putting +infidels to the sword. I rejoin that this might happen in the dark ages, +but that in our days the ministers of the Most High should know how to +wield no other weapons than those of persuasion. "And what if persuasion +be not enough?" rejoins my father. "Do you think it would be amiss to +re-enforce argument with a few good blows of a cudgel?" The complete +missionary, according to my father's opinion, should know how, on +occasion, to have recourse to these heroic measures, and, as my father +has read a great many tales and romances, he cites various examples in +support of his opinion. He cites in the first place St. James, who, on +his white horse, without ceasing to be an apostle, puts the Moors to the +sword more frequently than he convinces or preaches to them; he cites a +certain Señor de la Vega who, being sent on an embassy to Boabdil by +Ferdinand and Isabella, became entangled in a theological discussion +with the Moors in the court-yard of the Lions, and, being at the end of +his arguments, drew his sword and fell upon them with fury in order to +complete their conversion; and he finally cites the Biscayan hidalgo, +Don Inigo de Loyola, who, in a controversy he had with a Moor, regarding +the purity of the Holy Virgin, growing weary at last of the impious and +horrible blasphemies with which the aforesaid Moor contradicted him, +fell upon him, sword in hand, and, if he had not taken to his heels, +would have enforced conviction upon his soul in a terrible fashion. In +regard to the incident relating to St. Ignatius, I answer my father that +this was before the saint became a priest; and in regard to the other +examples, I answer that historians are not agreed in the matter. + +In short, I defend myself as best I can against my father's jests, and I +content myself with being a good horseman, without learning other +accomplishments unsuited to the clergy; although my father assures me +that not a few of the Spanish clergy understand and practice them with +frequency in Spain, even in our own day, with a view to contributing to +the triumph of the faith, and to the preservation or the restoration of +the unity of the Church. + +I am grieved to the soul by this levity of my father's, and that he +should speak with irreverence and jestingly about the most serious +things; but a respectful son is not called upon to go further than I do +in repressing his somewhat Voltairean freedom of speech. I say +_Voltairean,_ because I am not able to describe it by any other word. At +heart my father is a good Catholic, and this thought consoles me. + +Tuesday was the Feast of the Cross, and the village presented a very +animated appearance. In each street were six or seven May-crosses, +covered with flowers, but none of them was so beautiful as that placed +by Pepita at the door of her house. It was adorned by a perfect cascade +of flowers. + +In the evening we went to an entertainment at the house of Pepita. The +cross which had stood at the door was now placed in a large saloon on +the ground-floor, in which there is a piano, and Pepita presented us +with a simple and poetic spectacle, one that I had seen when a child, +but had since forgotten. + +From the upper part of the cross hung down seven bands or broad ribbons, +two white, two green, and three red, the symbolic colors of the +theological virtues. Eight children of five or six years old, +representing the seven sacraments, and holding the seven ribbons that +hung from the cross, performed with great skill a species of +contra-dance. The sacrament of baptism was represented by a child +wearing the white robe of a catechumen; ordination, by another child as +a priest; confirmation, by a little bishop; extreme unction, by a +pilgrim with staff and scrip, the latter filled with shells; marriage, +by a bride and bridegroom, and penance, by a Nazarene with cross and +crown of thorns. + +The dance was a series of reverences, steps, evolutions, and +genuflections, rather than a dance, performed to the sound of very +tolerable music, something like a march, which the organist played, not +without skill, on the piano. + +The little dancers, children of the servants or retainers of Pepita, +after playing their parts, went away to bed amid compliments and +caresses. + +The entertainment, in the course of which we were served with +refreshments, continued till twelve; the refreshments were sirup served +in little cups, and afterward chocolate with sponge-cake, and meringues +and water. + +Since the return of spring, Pepita's seclusion and retirement are being +gradually abandoned, at which my father is greatly rejoiced. In future, +Pepita will receive every night, and my father desires that I shall be +one of the guests. + +Pepita has left off mourning, and now appears more lovely and attractive +than ever, in the lighter fabrics appropriate to the season, which is +almost summer. She still dresses, however, with extreme simplicity. + +I cherish the hope that my father will not now detain me here beyond the +end of this month at farthest. In June we shall both join you in the +city, and you shall then see how, far from Pepita, to whom I am +indifferent, and who will remember me neither kindly nor unkindly, I +shall have the pleasure of embracing you, and attaining at last to the +happiness of being ordained. + +_May 7th._ + +Pepita, as I mentioned to you before, receives every evening, from nine +to twelve. + +Four or five married ladies of the village, and as many more unmarried +ones, including Aunt Casilda, are frequent visitors; as well as six or +seven young men, who play at forfeits with the girls. Three or four +engagements are the natural result. + +The sedate portion of the company are the same as usual. These are, as +one may say, the high functionaries of the village--my father, who is +the squire, the apothecary, the doctor, and the reverend vicar. + +I am at a loss to know in which division to place myself. If I join the +young people, my gravity proves a hindrance to their games and +flirtations; if I stay with the elders, I must play the _rôle_ of a +looker-on in things I have no knowledge of. The only games of cards I +know are the _burro ciego_, the _burro con vista_, and a little _tute_ +or _brisca cruzada_. + +The best course for me to pursue would be to absent myself from the +house altogether, but my father will not hear of this. By doing so, +according to him, I should make myself ridiculous. + +My father shows many signs of wonder when he sees my ignorance in +certain things. That I should not know how to play even ombre fills him +with astonishment. + +"Your uncle has brought you up quite out of the world," he says to me, +"cramming you with theology, and leaving you in the dark about +everything else you ought to know. For the very reason that you are to +be a priest, and can neither dance nor make love in society, it is +necessary that you should know how to play ombre. Otherwise how are you +going to spend your time, unhappy boy?" + +To these and other arguments of a like land I have been obliged to +yield, and my father is teaching me at home to play ombre, so that, as +soon as I have learned it, I may play it at Pepita's. He wanted also, as +I already told you, to teach me to fence, and afterward to smoke and +shoot and throw the bar; but I have consented to nothing of all this. + +"What a difference," my father exclaims, "between your youth and mine!" + +And then he adds, laughing: + +"In substance it is the same thing. I, too, had my canonical hours, in +the quarters of the life-guard: a cigar was the censer; a pack of cards, +the hymn-book; and there were never wanting other devotions and +exercises of a more or less spiritual character." + +Although you had warned me of this levity of disposition of my father, +and on account of it I have spent with you twelve years of my life--from +the age of ten to that of twenty-two--yet the sayings of his, altogether +too free at times, perturb and mortify me. But what is to be done? +Although I can not reprove him for making use of them, I do not, on the +other hand, applaud or laugh at them. The strangest part of it is that +my father is altogether another person when he is in the house of +Pepita. Not even by chance does a single phrase, a single jest of the +kind he is so prodigal of at other times escape from him then. At +Pepita's my father is politeness itself. He seems, too, to become every +day more attached to her, and to cherish greater hopes of success. + +My father continues greatly pleased with me as his pupil in +horsemanship. He declares that in four or five days I shall have +mastered the art, and that I shall then mount Lucero, a black horse bred +from an Arab horse and a mare of the race of Guadalcazar, full of fire +and spirit, and trained to all manner of curvetings. + +"Whoever succeeds in getting on the back of Lucero," my father says to +me, "may venture to compete in horsemanship with the centaurs +themselves; and that you shall do very soon." + +Although I spend the whole day out of doors on horseback, in the +club-house, or at Pepita's, I yet steal a few hours from slumber, +sometimes voluntarily, sometimes because I can not sleep, to meditate on +my situation and to examine my conscience. The image of Pepita is always +present to my mind. "Can this be love?" I ask myself. + +The moral obligation I am under, the vow I have made to consecrate +myself to the service of the altar, although not confirmed, is +nevertheless, in my eyes, full and binding. If anything opposed to the +fulfillment of this vow has entered into my soul, it must be combated. + +I note, too, and do not accuse me of arrogance because I mention this to +you, that the empire of my will, which you have taught me to exercise, +is complete over my senses. While Moses on the top of Mount Sinai +conversed with God, the people on the plain below adored, rebellious, +the golden calf. Notwithstanding my youth, my spirit has no fears of +incurring a like rebelliousness. I might converse with God in full +security, if the enemy did not come to attack me in the sanctuary +itself. But the image of Pepita presents itself to my soul. It is a +spirit that makes war against my spirit. It is the idea of her beauty in +all its spiritual purity, that stands before the sanctuary of the souls +where God resides, and prevents me from reaching him. + +I do not shut my eyes to the truth, however; I can see clearly; I can +reason; I do not deceive myself. Above and beyond this spiritual +inclination that draws me to Pepita, is the love of the Infinite and of +the Eternal. Although I represent Pepita to myself as an idea, as a +poem, it is still the idea, the poetry of something finite, limited, +concrete; while the love of God and the conception of God embrace +everything. But, notwithstanding all my efforts, I am unable to give +form in my mind to this supreme conception--this object of the highest +love--in order that it may combat the image, the memory of the frail and +ephemeral reality that continually besets me. Fervently do I implore +Heaven to awaken within me the power of the imagination, that it may +create a likeness, a symbol of this conception, that shall be +all-embracing, and absorb and efface the image of Pepita. This highest +conception, on which I desire to center my love, is vague, shadowy, +indescribable, like the blackness of darkness; while Pepita's image +presents itself to me in clearly defined outlines, bright, palpable, +luminous with the subdued light that may be borne by the eyes of the +spirit, not bright with the intense light that for the eyes of the +spirit is as darkness. + +Every other consideration, every other object is of no avail to destroy +her image. Between the crucifix and me it places itself; between the +most sacred image of the Virgin and me it places itself; on the page of +the spiritual book I am reading it also comes to place itself. + +Yet I do not believe that my soul is invaded by what in the world is +called love. And even if this were the case, I should do battle against +this love, and conquer in the end. + +The daily sight of Pepita, the hearing her praises sounded continually, +even by the reverend vicar, preoccupy me; they turn my spirit toward +profane things, and withdraw it from its proper meditations. But, no--I +do not yet love Pepita; I will go away from here and forget her. + +While I remain here, I shall do battle with valor. I shall wrestle with +the Lord in order to prevail with him by love and submission. My cries +shall reach him like burning arrows, and shall cast down the buckler +wherewith he defends himself from the eyes of my soul. I shall fight +like Israel in the silence of the night; and the Lord shall wound me in +the thigh, and shall humble me in the conflict in order that, being +vanquished, I may become the victor. + +_May 12th._ + +Before I had any intention of doing so, my dear uncle, my father +persuaded me to ride Lucero. Yesterday, at six in the morning, I mounted +the beautiful wild creature, as my father calls Lucero, and we set out +for the country. + +I rode so well, I kept so firm a seat, and looked to such advantage on +the superb animal, that my father could not resist the temptation of +showing off his pupil; and, about eleven in the morning, after resting +at a grange he owns, half a league distant from here, he insisted on our +returning to the village and entering it by the most frequented street, +which we did, our horses' hoofs clattering loudly against the +paving-stones. It is needless to say that we rode by the house of +Pepita, who for some time past is to be seen occasionally in her window, +and who was then seated at the grating of a lower window, behind the +green blind. + +Hardly had Pepita heard the noise we made than, lifting up her eyes and +seeing us, she rose, laid down the sewing she had in her hands, and set +herself to observe us. Lucero, who has the habit, as I learned +afterward, of prancing and curveting when he passes the house of Pepita, +began to show off, and to rear and plunge. I tried to quiet him, but, as +there was something unfamiliar to him in the ways of his present rider, +as well as in the rider himself, whom, perhaps, he regarded with +contempt, he grew more and more unmanageable, and began to neigh and +prance, and even to kick; but I remained firm and serene, showing him +that I was his master, chastising him with the spur, touching his breast +with the whip, and holding him in by the bridle. Lucero, who had almost +stood up on his hind-legs, now humbled himself so far as to bend his +knees gently and make a reverence. + +The crowd of idlers who had gathered around us broke into boisterous +applause. My father called out to them: + +"A good lesson that for our braggarts and blusterers!" + +And, observing afterward that Currito--who has no other occupation than +to amuse himself--was among the crowd, he addressed him in these words: + +"Look at that, you rascal! Look at the theologian now, and see if you +don't stare with wonder, instead of laughing at him." + +And, in fact, there Currito stood stock-still with amazement, and unable +to utter a word. + +My triumph was great and assured, although unsuited to my character. The +unfitness of the triumph covered me with confusion. Shame brought the +blood to my cheeks. I must have turned as red as scarlet, or redder, +when I saw that Pepita was applauding and saluting me graciously, while +she smiled and clapped her beautiful hands. + +In short, I have been adjudged a man of nerve, and a horseman of the +first rank. + +My father could not be prouder or more happy than he is; he declares +that he is completing my education, that in me you have sent him a book +full of wisdom, but unconnected and unbound, which he is now making a +fair copy, and putting it between covers. + +On two occasions I played _hombre_ with Pepita. Learning _hombre_, if +that be a part of the binding and the correcting, is already done with. + +The night after my equestrian feat Pepita received me with enthusiasm, +and--what she had never ventured nor perhaps desired to do before--she +gave me her hand. + +Do not suppose that I did not call to mind what so many moralists and +ascetics recommend in like cases, but in my inmost thoughts I believed +they exaggerated the danger. Those words of the Holy Spirit, that it is +as dangerous to touch a woman as a scorpion, seem to me to have been +said in another sense. In pious books, no doubt, many phrases and +sentences of the Scriptures are, with the best intentions, interpreted +harshly. How are we to understand otherwise the saying that the beauty +of woman, this perfect work of God, is always the cause of perdition? Or +how are we to understand, in a universal and invariable sense, that +woman is more bitter than death? How are we to understand that he who +touches a woman, on whatever occasion or with whatsoever thought, shall +not be without stain? + +In fine, I made answer rapidly within my mind to these and other similar +counsels, and took the hand that Pepita kindly extended to me and +pressed it in mine. Its softness made me comprehend all the better the +delicacy and beauty of the hand that until now I had known only by +sight. + +According to the usages of the world, the hand, once given, should be +given always thereafter on entering a room and on taking leave. I hope +that in this ceremony, in this evidence of friendship, in this +manifestation of kindness, given and accepted in purity of heart, and +without any mixture of levity, you will see nothing either evil or +dangerous. + +As my father is often obliged of an evening to see the overseer and +others of the country-people, and is seldom free until half-past ten or +eleven, I take his place beside Pepita at the ombre-table. The reverend +vicar and the notary are generally the other partners. We each stake a +penny a point, so that not more than a dollar or two changes hands in +the game. + +As the game possesses thus but little interest, we interrupt it +constantly with pleasant conversation, and even with discussions on +matters foreign to the game itself, in all which Pepita displays such +clearness of understanding, such liveliness of imagination, and a grace +of expression so extraordinary, as to astonish me. + +I find no sufficient motive to change my opinion with respect to what I +have already said in answer to your suspicions that Pepita perhaps feels +a certain liking for me. She manifests toward me the affection she would +naturally entertain for the son of her suitor, Don Pedro de Vargas, and +the timidity and shyness that would be inspired by a man in my position, +who, though not yet a priest, is soon to become one. + +Nevertheless, as I always speak to you in my letters as if I were +kneeling before you in the confessional, I desire, as is my duty, to +communicate to you a passing impression I have received on two or three +occasions. This impression may be but a hallucination or a delusion, but +I have none the less received it. + +I have already told you in my former letters that the eyes of Pepita, +green as those of Circe, are calm and tranquil in their gaze; she does +not seem to be conscious of their power, or to know that they serve for +any other purpose than to see with. When she looks at one, the soft +light of her glance is so clear, so frank, and so untroubled that, +instead of giving rise to any evil thoughts, it seems to give birth to +pure thoughts, and leaves innocent and chaste souls in untroubled +repose, while it destroys every incitement to evil in souls that are not +chaste. There is no trace of ardent passion, no fire to be discovered in +Pepita's eyes. Their light is like the mild ray of the moon. + +Well, then, notwithstanding all this, I fancied I detected, on two or +three occasions, a sudden brightness, a gleam as of lightning, a swift, +devouring flame in her eyes as they rested on me. Can this be the result +of a ridiculous vanity, inspired by the arch-fiend himself? + +I think so. I believe it is, and I wish to believe it. + +The swiftness, the fugitive nature of the impression make me conjecture +that it had no external reality, that it was only an illusion. + +The serenity of heaven, the coldness of indifference, tempered, indeed, +with sweetness and charity--this is what I always discern in Pepita's +eyes. + +Nevertheless, this illusion, this vision of a strange and ardent glance, +torments me. + +My father affirms that in affairs of the heart it is the woman, not the +man, who takes the first step; and that she takes it without thereby +incurring any responsibility, and with the power to disavow or retract +it whenever she desires to do so. According to my father, it is the +woman who first declares her passion through the medium of furtive +glances that, later, she disavows to her own conscience if necessary, +and of which he to whom they are directed divines, rather than reads, +the significance. In this manner, by a species of electric shock, by +means of a subtle and inexplicable intuition, he who is loved perceives +that he is loved; and when at last he makes up his mind to declare +himself, he can do so confidently, and in the full security that his +passion is returned. + +Perhaps it is these theories of my father, to which I have listened +because I could not help it, that have heated my fancy and made me +imagine what has no existence in reality. + +Yet, after all, I say to myself at times, Is the thought so absurd, so +incredible, that this illusion should have an existence in reality? And +if it had, if I were pleasing in Pepita's eyes otherwise than as a +friend, if the woman to whom my father is paying his addresses should +fall in love with me, would not my position then be terrible? + +But let us cast away these fears, the creation, no doubt, of vanity. Let +us not make of Pepita a Phædra, or of me a Hippolytus. + +What in reality begins to surprise me is my father's carelessness and +complete consciousness of security. Pardon my pride, ask Heaven to +pardon it; for at times this consciousness of security piques and +offends me. What! I say to myself, is there something so absurd in the +thought that it should not even occur to my father that, notwithstanding +my supposed sanctity, or perhaps because of my supposed sanctity, I +should, without wishing it, inspire Pepita with love? + +There is an ingenious method of reasoning by which I explain to myself, +without wounding my vanity, my father's carelessness in this important +particular. My father, although he has no reason for doing so, begins to +regard himself already in the light of Pepita's husband, and to share in +that fatal blindness with which Asmodeus, or some other yet more +malicious demon, afflicts husbands. Profane and ecclesiastical history +is fall of instances of this blindness, which God permits, no doubt, for +providential purposes. The most remarkable example of it, perhaps, is +that of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who had for wife a woman so vile as +Faustina, and yet so wise a man and so great a philosopher remained in +ignorance to the end of his days of what was known to every one else in +the Roman Empire; so that in the meditations or memoirs of himself that +he composed he gives infinite thanks to the immortal gods for having +bestowed upon him so faithful and so good a wife; thus provoking the +smiles of his contemporaries and of future generations. + +Every day since then we see examples of great men and men of exalted +rank who make those who enjoy the favor of their wives their private +secretaries, and bestow honors on them. Thus do I explain to myself my +father's indifference and his failure to suspect that, even against my +own will, it would be possible for him to find a rival in me. + +Would it be a want of respect on my part, should I fall into the fault +of presumption or insolence, if I were to warn my father of the danger +which he himself does not see? But he gives me no opportunity to say +anything to him. Besides, what could I say to him? That once or twice I +fancy Pepita has looked at me in a way different from that in which she +usually does? May not this be an illusion of mine? No; I have not the +least proof that Pepita desires to play the coquette with me. + +What, then, could I tell my father? Shall I say to him that it is I who +am in love with Pepita; that I covet the treasure he already regards as +his own? This is not the truth; and, above all, how could I tell this to +my father, even if, to my misfortune and through my fault, it were the +truth? + +The best course I can adopt is to say nothing; to combat the temptation +in silence, if it should indeed assail me, and to endeavor, as soon as +possible, to leave this place and return to you. + +_May 19th._ + +I return thanks to Heaven and to you for the letters and the counsels +you have lately sent me. To-day I need them more than ever. + +The mystical and learned St. Theresa is right in dwelling upon the +suffering of timid souls that allow themselves to be disturbed by +temptation; but a thousand times worse than that suffering is the +awakening from error of those who, like me, have permitted themselves to +indulge in arrogance and self-confidence. + +Our bodies are the temples wherein dwells the Holy Spirit; but when +fire is set to the walls of the temple, though they do not burn, yet +they are blackened. + +The first evil thought is the head of the serpent; if we do not crush it +with firm and courageous foot, then will the venomous reptile climb up +and hide himself in our bosom. + +The nectar of earthly joys, however innocent they be, is sweet indeed to +the taste; but afterward it is converted into gall, and into the venom +of the serpent. + +It is true--I can no longer deny it to you--I ought not to have allowed +my eyes to rest with so much complacency on this dangerous woman. + +I do not deem myself lost; but I feel my soul troubled. + +Even as the thirsty hart desires and seeks the water-brooks, so does my +soul still seek God. To God does it turn that he may give it rest; it +longs to drink at the torrent of his delights the gushing forth of which +rejoices paradise, and whose clear waves make whiter than snow but deep +calleth unto deep, and my feet have stuck fast in the mire that is +hidden in their abysses. + +Yet have I still breath and voice to cry out with the psalmist: "Arise, +my joy! if thou dost take my part, who shall prevail against me?" + +I say unto my sinful soul, full of the chimerical imaginations and +sinful desires engendered by unlawful thoughts: "O miserable daughter +of Babylon! happy shall he be who shall give thee thy reward! Happy +shall he be that dasheth thy little ones against the rock!" + +Works of penance, fasting, prayer, and penitence, are the weapons +wherewith I shall arm myself to combat, and, with the Divine help, to +vanquish. + +It was not a dream; it was not madness; it was the truth: she lets her +eyes rest upon me at times with the ardent glance of which I have told +you. There is in her glance an unexplainable magnetic attraction. It +draws me on, it seduces me, and I can not withdraw my gaze from her. On +such occasions my eyes must burn, like hers, with a fatal flame, as did +those of Amnon when he turned them upon Tamar; as did those of the +prince of Shechem when they were fixed upon Dinah. + +When our glances encounter each other thus, I forget even God. Her image +rises up within my soul, the conqueror of everything. Her beauty +outshines all other beauty; the joys of heaven seem to me less desirable +than her affection. An eternity of suffering would be little in exchange +for one moment of the infinite bliss with which one of those glances +that pass like lightning inundates my soul. + +When I return home, when I am alone in my room, in the silence of the +night, I realize all the horror of my position, and I form good +resolutions, only to break them again. + +I resolve to feign sickness, to make use of any pretext so as not to go +to Pepita's on the following night, and yet I go. + +My father, confiding to the last degree, says to me when the hour +arrives, without any suspicion of what is passing in my soul: + +"Go you to Pepita's; I will go later, when I have finished with the +overseer." + +No excuse occurs to me; I can find no pretext for not going, and, +instead of answering, "I can not go," I take my hat and depart. + +On entering the room I shake hands with Pepita, and, as our hands touch, +she casts a spell over me; my whole being is changed; a devouring fire +penetrates my heart, and I think only of her. Moved by an irresistible +impulse, I gaze at her with insane ardor, and at every instant I think I +discover in her new perfections. Now it is the dimples in her cheeks +when she smiles, now the roseate whiteness of her skin, now the straight +outlines of her nose, now the smallness of her ear, now the softness of +contour and the admirable modeling of her throat. + +I enter her house against my will, as though summoned there by a +conjurer, and no sooner am I there than I fall under the spell of her +enchantment. I see clearly that I am in the power of an enchantress, +whose fascination is irresistible. + +Not only is she pleasing to my sight, but her words sound in my ears +like the music of the spheres, revealing to my soul the harmony of the +universe; and I even fancy that a subtle fragrance emanates from her, +sweeter than the perfume of the mint that grows by the brook-side, or +the wood-like odor of the thyme that is found among the hills. + +I know not how, in this state of exaltation, I am able to play _hombre,_ +or to converse rationally, or even to speak, so completely am I absorbed +in her. + +When our glances encounter each other, our souls rush forth in them, and +seem to join and interpenetrate each other. In that meeting a thousand +feelings are communicated that in no other way could be made known; +poems are recited that could be uttered in no human tongue, and songs +are sung that no human voice could sing, no according zither accompany. + +Since the day I met Pepita in the _Pozo de la Solana_, I have not seen +her alone. Although no word has passed between us, yet we have told each +other everything. + +When I withdraw myself from this fascination, when I am again alone at +night in my chamber, I set myself to examine coolly the situation in +which I am placed; I see the abyss that is about to ingulf me, yawning +before me, and I feel my feet slip from under me, and that I am sinking +into it. + +You counsel me to reflect upon death--not on the death of this woman, +but on my own. You counsel me to reflect on the instability, on the +insecurity of our existence, and on what there is beyond it. But these +considerations, these reflections neither terrify nor daunt me. Why +should I, who desire to die, fear death? Love and death are brothers. A +sentiment of self-abnegation springs to life within me, and tells me +that my whole being should be consecrated to and annihilated in the +beloved object. I long to merge myself in one of her glances; to diffuse +and exhale my whole being in the ray of light shot forth from her eyes; +to die while gazing on her, even though I should be eternally lost. + +What is still to some extent efficacious with me against this love is +not fear, but love itself. Superior to this deep-rooted love with which +I now have the evidence that Pepita inspires me, Divine love exalts +itself in my spirit in mighty uprising. Then everything is changed +within me, and I feel that I may yet obtain the victory. The object of +my higher love presents itself to my mental vision, as the sun that +kindles and illuminates all things, and fills all space with light; and +the object of my inferior love appears but as an atom of dust floating +in the sunbeam. All its beauty, all its splendor, all its attraction are +nothing but the reflection of this uncreated sun, the brilliant, +transitory, fleeting spark that is cast off from that infinite and +inexhaustible fire. + +My soul, burning with love, would fain take to herself wings and rise to +that flame, in order that all that is impure within her might be +consumed therein. + +My life, for some days past, is a constant struggle. I know not how it +is that the malady from which I suffer does not betray itself in my +countenance. I scarcely eat; I scarcely sleep. And if by chance sleep +closes my eyelids, I awake in terror as from a dream in which rebel +angels are arrayed against good angels, and in which I am one of the +combatants. In this conflict of light against darkness, I do battle for +the right, but I sometimes imagine that I have gone over to the enemy, +that I am a vile deserter; and I hear a voice from Patmos saying, "And +men preferred darkness rather than light"; and then I am filled with +terror and I look upon myself as lost. No resource is left me but +flight. If, before the end of the month, my father does not go with me, +or consent to my going alone, I shall steal away like a thief, without a +word to any one. + +_May 23d._ + +I am a vile worm, not a man; I am the opprobrium and disgrace of +humanity. I am a hypocrite. + +I have been encompassed by the pangs of death, and the waters of +iniquity have passed over me. + +I am ashamed to write to you, and yet I write. I desire to confess +everything to you. + +I can not turn away from evil. Far from abstaining from going to +Pepita's, I go there each night earlier than the last. It would seem as +if devils took me by the feet and carried me there against my will! + +Happily, I never find Pepita alone; I do not desire to find her alone. I +almost always find there before me the excellent vicar, who attributes +our friendship to similarity of feeling in religious matters, and bases +it on piety, like the pure and innocent friendship he himself entertains +for her. + +The progress of my malady is rapid. Like the stone that is loosened from +the mountain-top and gathers force as it falls, so is it with my spirit +now. + +When Pepita and I shake hands, it is not now as before. Each one of us, +by an effort of the will, transmits to the other, through the handclasp, +every throb of the heart. It is as if, by some diabolical art, we had +effected a transfusion and a blending together of the most subtle +elements our blood. She must feel my life circulate through her veins, +as I feel hers in mine. + +When I am near her, I love her; when I am away from her, I hate her. +When I am in her presence she inspires me with love; she draws me to +her; she subjugates me with gentleness; she lays upon me a very easy +yoke. + +But the recollection of her undoes me. When I dream of her, I dream that +she is severing my head from my body, as Judith slew the captain of the +Assyrians; or that she is driving a nail into my temple, as Jael did to +Sisera. But when I am near her, she appears to me the Spouse of the Song +of Songs, and a voice within me calls to her, and I bless her, and I +regard her as a sealed fountain, as an inclosed garden, as the flower of +the valley, as the lily of the fields, my dove and my sister. + +I desire to free myself from her, and I can not. I abhor, yet I almost +worship her. Her spirit enters into and takes possession of me as soon +as I behold her; it subjugates me, it abases me. + +I leave her house each night, saying, "This is the last night I shall +return here"; and I return there on the following night! + +When she speaks, and I am near, my soul hangs, as it were, upon her +words. When she smiles, I imagine that a ray of spiritual light enters +into my heart and rejoices it. + +It has happened, when playing _hombre_, that our knees have touched by +chance, and then I have felt a thrill run through me impossible to +describe. + +Get me away from this place. Write to my father and ask him to let me +return to you. If it be necessary, tell him everything. Help me! Be you +my refuge! + +_May 30th._ + +God has given me strength to resist, and I have resisted. + +It is now many days since I have been in the house of Pepita, many days +since I have seen her. + +It is scarcely necessary that I should feign sickness, for I am in +reality sick. I have lost my color, and dark circles begin to show +themselves under my eyes; and my father asks me, full of affectionate +anxiety, what the cause of my suffering is, and manifests the deepest +concern in my regard. + +The kingdom of heaven is said to yield to violence, and I am resolved to +conquer it. With violence I call at its gates that they may open to me. + +With wormwood am I fed by the Lord, in order to prove me; and in vain do +I supplicate him to let this cup of bitterness pass away from me. But, +as I have passed and still pass many nights in vigil, delivered up to +prayer, a loving inspiration from the Supreme Consoler has come to +sweeten the bitterness of my cup. + +I have beheld with the eyes of the soul the new country; and the new +song of the heavenly Jerusalem has resounded within the depths of my +heart. + +If in the end I should conquer, glorious will be the victory; but I +shall owe it to the Queen of Angels, under whose protection I place +myself. She is my refuge and my defense; the tower and the house of +David, on whose walls hang innumerable shields and the armor of many +valiant champions; the cedar of Lebanon, that puts to flight the +serpent. + +The woman who inspires me with an earthly love, on the contrary, I +endeavor to despise and abase in my thoughts, remembering the words of +the sage, and applying them to her. + +"Thou art the snare of the hunter," I say to her; "thy heart is a net of +deceit, and thy hands are bands that imprison; he who fears God will +flee from thee, and the sinner shall be taken captive by thee." + +In my meditations on love, I find a thousand reasons for loving God, and +against loving her. + +I feel, in the depths of my heart, an indescribable enthusiasm that +convinces me that for the love of God I would sacrifice all +things--fame, honor, power, dominion. I feel myself capable of imitating +Christ, and if the tempter should carry me off to the mountain-top, and +should there offer me all the kingdoms of the earth if I consented to +bow the knee before him, yet would I not bend it. But were he to offer +me this woman if I should do so, I feel that I should waver, that I +should not reject his offer. Is this woman, then, worth more in my eyes +than all the kingdoms of the earth? More than fame, honor, power, and +dominion? + +Is the virtue of love, I ask myself at times, always the same, even when +applied to diverse objects; or are there two species and qualities of +love? To love God seems to me to be the giving up of self and of selfish +interest. Loving him, I desire to love, and I can love all things +through him, and I am not troubled or jealous because of his love toward +all things. I am not jealous of the saints, or of the martyrs, or of the +blessed, or even of the seraphim. The greater I picture to myself to be +the love of God for his creatures, and the graces and gifts he bestows +upon them, the less am I troubled by jealousy; the more I love him, the +nearer to me do I feel him to be, and the more loving and gracious does +he seem toward me. My brotherhood, my more than brotherhood with all +creatures, stands forth then in a most pleasing light. It seems to me +that I am one with all things, and that all things are bound together in +the bonds of love, through God and in God. + +Very different is it when my thoughts dwell upon Pepita, and on the love +with which she inspires me. This love is a love full of hatred, that +separates me from everything but myself. I desire her for myself, +altogether for myself, and myself altogether for her. Even devotion to +her, even sacrifices made for her sake, partake of the nature of +selfishness. To die for her would be to die of despair at not being able +to possess her in any other manner--from the fear of not enjoying her +love completely, except by dying and commingling with her in an eternal +embrace. + +By these reflections I endeavor to render the love of Pepita hateful to +me. I invest my love in my imagination with something diabolical and +fatal; but, as if I possessed a double soul, a double understanding, a +double will, and a double imagination, in contradiction to this thought, +other feelings rise up within me in its train, and I then deny what I +have just affirmed, and insanely endeavor to reconcile the two loves. +Would it not be possible, I ask myself, to fly from Pepita, and yet +continue to love her, without ceasing therefore to consecrate myself +with fervor to the love of God? For, as the love of God does not +exclude love of country, love of humanity, love of learning, love of +beauty in nature and in art, neither should it exclude another love, if +it be spiritual and immaculate. I will make of her, I say to myself, a +symbol, an allegory, an image of all that is good, of all that is +beautiful. She shall be to me, as Beatrice was to Dante, the image and +the symbol of country, of knowledge, and of beauty. + +This intention suggests to me a horrible fancy, a monstrous thought. In +order to make of Pepita this symbol, this vaporous and ethereal image, +this sign and epitome of all that I can love under God, in God, and +subordinate to God, I picture her to myself dead, as Beatrice was dead +when Dante made her the subject of his song. + +If I picture her to myself among the living, then I am unable to convert +her into a pure idea, and if I convert her into a pure idea, I kill her +in my thoughts. + +Then I weep; I am filled with horror at my crime, and I draw near to her +in spirit, and with the warmth of my heart I bring her back to life +again; and I behold her, not errant, diaphanous, floating in shadowy +outline among roseate clouds and celestial flowers, as the stern +Ghibelline beheld his beloved in the upper sphere of purgatory, but +coherent, solid, clearly defined in the pure and serene air like the +masterpieces of Greek art, like Galatea already animated by the love of +Pygmalion, and descending--full of fire, exhaling love, rich in youth +and beauty--from her pedestal of marble. + +Then I exclaim in the depths of my perturbed heart: "My virtue faints! +My God, do not thou forsake me! Hasten to my help; show thy countenance, +and I shall be saved." + +Thus do I recover strength to resist temptation. Thus again does the +hope spring to life within me, that I shall regain my former +tranquillity when I shall have left this place. + +The devil longs with ardor to swallow up the pure waters of Jordan, by +which are symbolized the persons who are consecrated to God. Hell +conspires against them, and lets loose all her monsters, upon them. St. +Bonaventure says, "We should not wonder that these persons have sinned, +but rather that they have not sinned." + +Notwithstanding, I shall be able to resist and not sin. The Lord will +protect me. + +_June 6th._ + +Pepita's nurse--now her housekeeper--is, as my father says, a good bag +of wrinkles; she is talkative, gay, and skillful, as few are. She +married the son of Master Cencias, and has inherited from the father +what the son did not inherit--a wonderful facility for the mechanical +arts, with this difference; that while Master Cencias could set the +screw of a wine-press, or repair the wheels of a wagon, or make a plow, +this daughter-in-law of his knows how to make sweetmeats, conserves of +honey, and other dainties. The father-in-law practiced the useful arts, +the daughter-in-law those that have for their object pleasure, though +only innocent, or at least lawful pleasure. + +Antoñona--for such is her name--is permitted, or assumes, the greatest +familiarity with all the gentry here. She goes in and out of every house +as if it were her own. She says _thou_ to all the young people of +Pepita's age, or four or five years older; she calls them _niño_ and +_niña,_ and treats them as if she had nursed them at her breast. + +She behaves toward me with the same familiarity; she comes to visit me, +enters my room unannounced, and has asked me several times already why I +no longer go to see her mistress, and has told me that I am wrong in not +going. + +My father, who has no suspicion of the truth, accuses me of +eccentricity; he calls me an owl, and he, too, is determined that I +shall resume my visits to Pepita. Last night I could no longer resist +his repeated importunities, and I went to her house very early, as my +father was about to settle his accounts with the overseer. + +Would God I had not gone! + +Pepita was alone. When our glances met, when we saluted each other, we +both turned red. We shook hands with timidity and in silence. + +I did not press her hand, nor did she press mine, but for a moment we +held them clasped together. + +In Pepita's glance, as she looked at me, there was nothing of love; +there was only friendship, sympathy, and a profound sadness. + +She had divined the whole of my inward struggle; she was persuaded that +divine love had triumphed in my soul; that my resolution not to love her +was firm and invincible. + +She did not venture to complain of me; she had no reason to complain of +me; she knew that right was on my side. A sigh, scarcely perceptible, +that escaped from her dewy, parted lips, revealed to me the depth of her +sorrow. + +Her hand still lay in mine; we were both silent. How say to her that she +was not destined for me, nor I for her; that we must part forever? + +But, though my lips refused to tell her this in words, I told it to her +with my eyes; my severe glance confirmed her fears; it convinced her of +the irrevocableness of my decision. + +All at once her gaze was troubled; her lovely countenance, pale with a +translucent pallor, was contracted with a touching expression of +melancholy. She looked like Our Lady of Sorrows. Two tears rose slowly +to her eyes, and began to steal down her cheeks. + +I know not what passed within me--and how describe it, even if I knew? + +I bent toward her to kiss away her tears, and our lips met in a kiss. + +A rapture unspeakable, a faintness full of peril, invaded our whole +being. She would have fallen, but that I supported her in my arms. + +Heaven willed that we should at this moment hear the step and the cough +of the reverend vicar, who was approaching, and we instantly drew apart. + +Recovering myself, and summoning all the strength of my will, I brought +to an end this terrible scene, that had been enacted in silence, with +these words, which I pronounced in low and intense accents: + +"The first and the last!" + +I made allusion to our profane kiss, but, as if my words had been an +invocation, there rose before me the vision of the Apocalypse in all its +terrible majesty. I beheld Him who is indeed the First and the Last, +and, with the two-edged sword that proceeded from his mouth, he pierced +my soul, full of evil, of wickedness, and of sin. + +All that evening I passed in a species of frenzy, an inward delirium, +that I know not how I was able to conceal. + +I withdrew from Pepita's house very early. + +The anguish of my soul was yet more poignant in solitude. + +When I recalled that kiss, and those words of farewell, I compared +myself with the traitor Judas, who made use of a kiss to betray; and +with the sanguinary and treacherous assassin Joab, who plunged the sharp +steel into the bowels of Amasa while in the act of kissing him. + +I had committed a double treason; I had been guilty of a double perfidy. +I had sinned against God and against her. + +I am an execrable wretch. + +_June 11th._ + +Everything may still be remedied. + +Pepita will, in time, forget her love and the weakness of which we were +guilty. + +Since that night I have not returned to her house. Antoñona has not made +her appearance in ours. + +By dint of entreaties I have obtained a formal promise from my father +that we shall leave here on the 25th, the day after St. John's day, +which is here celebrated with splendid feasts, and on the eve of which +there is a famous vigil. + +Absent from Pepita, I begin to recover my serenity, and to think that +this first appearance of love was a trial of my virtue. + +All these nights I have prayed, I have watched, I have performed many +works of penance. + +The persistence of my prayers, the deep contrition of my soul, have +found favor with the Lord, who has manifested to me his great mercy. + +The Lord, in the words of the prophet, has sent fire to the stronghold +of my spirit, he has illuminated my understanding, he has kindled my +resolution, and he has given me instruction. The working of the Divine +love which animates the Supreme Will has had power, at times, without my +deserving it, to lead me to that condition of prayerful contemplation in +which all the faculties of the soul are in repose. I have cast out from +the lower faculties of my soul every species of image--even her image; +and I am persuaded, if vanity does not deceive me, that, mind and heart +in reconciliation, I have known and enjoyed the Supreme Good that dwells +within the depths of the soul. + +Compared with this good, all else is worthless; compared with this +beauty, all else is deformity. Who would not forget and scorn every +other love for the love of God? + +Yes, the profane image of this woman shall depart, finally and forever, +from my soul. I shall make of my prayers and of my penance a sharp +scourge, and with it I will expel her therefrom, as Christ expelled the +money-lenders from the temple. + +_June 18th._ + +This is the last letter I shall write to you. On the 25th I shall leave +this place without fail. + +I shall soon have the happiness of embracing you. Near you I shall be +stronger; you will infuse courage into me, and lend me the energy in +which I am wanting. + +A tempest of conflicting emotions is raging now in my soul. The disorder +of my ideas may be known by the disorder of what I write. + +Twice I returned to the house of Pepita. I was cold and stern. I was as +I ought to have been, but how much did it not cost me! + +My father told me yesterday that Pepita was indisposed, and would not +receive. + +The thought at once assailed me that the cause of her indisposition +might be her ill-requited love. + +Why did I return her glances of fire? Why did I basely deceive her? Why +did I make her believe I loved her? Why did my vile lips seek hers with +ardor, and communicate the ardor of an unholy love to hers? + +But no; my sin shall not be followed, as its unavoidable consequence, by +another sin! + +What has been, has been, and can not be undone; but a repetition of it +may be avoided, shall be avoided in future. + +On the 25th, I repeat, I shall depart from here without fail. + +The impudent Antoñona has just come to see me. I hid this letter from +her, as if it were a crime to write to you. + +Antoñona remained here only for a moment. + +I arose, and remained standing while I spoke to her, that the visit +might be a short one. + +During this short visit she gave utterance to a thousand absurdities +that afflict me profoundly. Finally, as she was going away, she +exclaimed, in her half-gypsy jargon: + +"Get away, you deceiver! you villain! my curse upon you! You have made +the child sick, and now you are killing her with your subterfuges. May +witches fly away with you, body and bones!" + +Having said this, the fiendish woman gave me, in a coarse plebeian +fashion, six or seven ferocious pinches below the shoulders, as if she +would like to tear the skin from my back in strips; and then went away, +looking daggers at me. + +I do not complain. I deserve this brutal jest, granting it to be a jest. +I deserve that fiends should tear my flesh with red-hot pincers. + +Grant, my God, that Pepita may forget me; let her, if it be necessary, +love another, and be happy with him! + +Can I do more than ask thee this, O my God? + +My father knows nothing, suspects nothing; it is better thus. + +Farewell for a few days, till we see and embrace each other again. + +How changed will you find me! How full of bitterness my heart! How lost +my innocence! How bruised and wounded my soul! + + + + +II. + +PARALIPOMENA. + + +Here end the letters of Don Luis de Vargas. We should therefore be left +in ignorance of the subsequent fortunes of these lovers, and this simple +and ardent love-story would have remained without an ending, if one +familiar with all the circumstances had not left us the following +narrative: + +No one in the village found anything strange in the fact of Pepita's +being indisposed, or thought, still less, of attributing her +indisposition to a cause of which only we, Pepita herself, Don Luis, the +reverend dean, and the discreet Antoñona, are thus far cognizant. + +They might rather have wondered at the life, of gayety that Pepita had +been leading for some time past, at the daily gatherings at her house, +and the excursions into the country in which she had joined. That Pepita +should return to her habitual seclusion was quite natural. + +Her secret and deeply rooted love for Don Luis was hidden from the +searching glances of Doña Casilda, of Currito, and of all the other +personages of the village of whom mention is made in the letters of Don +Luis. Still less could the public know of it. It never entered into the +head, of any one--no one imagined for a moment that the theologian, the +_saint,_ as they called Don Luis, could become the rival of his father, +or could have succeeded where the redoubtable and powerful Don Pedro de +Vargas had failed--in winning the heart of the lovely, graceful, coy, +and reserved young widow. + +Notwithstanding the familiarity of the ladies of the village with their +servants, Pepita had allowed none of hers to suspect anything. Only the +lynx-eyed Antoñona, whom nothing could escape, and more especially +nothing that concerned her young mistress, had penetrated the mystery. + +Antoñona did not conceal her discovery from Pepita, nor could Pepita +deny the truth to the woman who had nursed her, who idolized her, and +who, if she delighted in finding out and gossiping about all that took +place in the village, being, as she was, a model scandal-monger, was +yet, in all that related to her mistress, reticent and loyal as but few +are. + +In this manner Antoñona made herself the confidante of Pepita; and +Pepita found great consolation in unburdening her heart to one who, +though she might be cross and vulgar in the frankness with which she +expressed her sentiments, was not so either in the sentiments or the +ideas that she expressed. + +In this may be found the explanation of Antoñona's visits to Don Luis, +as well as of her words, and even of the ferocious and disrespectful +pinches, given in so ill-chosen a spot, with which she bruised his flesh +and wounded his dignity, on the occasion of her last visit to him. + +Not only had Pepita not desired Antoñona to carry messages to Don Luis, +but she did not even know that she had gone to see him. Antoñona had +taken the initiative, and had interfered in the matter simply because +she herself had wanted to do so. + +As we have already said, she had, with wonderful perspicacity, made +herself acquainted with the state of affairs between her mistress and +Don Luis. + +While Pepita herself was still scarcely conscious of the fact that she +loved Don Luis, Antoñona already knew it. Scarcely had Pepita begun to +cast on him those furtive glances, ardent and involuntary, that had +wrought such havoc--glances which had been intercepted by none of those +present when they were given--than Antoñona, who was not present, had +already spoken of them to Pepita. And no sooner had those glances been +returned in kind, than Antoñona also knew it. + +There was but little left, then, for the mistress to confide to a +servant of so much penetration, and who was so skilled in divination of +what passed in the inmost recesses of her breast. + + * * * * * + +Five days after the date of Don Luis's last letter, our narrative +begins. + +It was eleven o'clock in the morning. Pepita was in an apartment on an +upper floor, contiguous to her bedroom and dressing-room, where no one +ever entered without being summoned, save Antoñona. + +The furniture of this apartment was simple, but comfortable and in good +taste. The curtains and the covering of the easy-chairs, the sofas and +the arm-chairs, were of a flowered cotton fabric. On a mahogany table +were writing materials and papers, and in a book-case, also of mahogany, +were many books of devotion and history. The walls were adorned with +pictures--engravings on religious subjects, but with this particularity +in their selection, unheard-of, extraordinary, almost incredible in an +Andalusian village, that, instead of being bad French lithographs, they +were engravings in the best style of Spanish art, as the _Spasimo di +Sicilia_, of Rafael; the _St. Ildefonso and the Virgin_, the +_Conception_, the _St. Bernard_, and the two _Lunettes_ of Murillo. + +On an antique oak table, supported by fluted columns, was a small +writing-desk, or escritoire, inlaid with shell, mother-of-pearl, ivory, +and brass, and containing a great many little drawers, in which Pepita +kept bills and other papers. On this table were also two porcelain vases +filled with flowers; and, finally, hanging against the walls, were +several flower-pots of Seville Carthusian ware, containing ivy, +geranium, and other plants, and three gilded cages, in which were +canaries and larks. + +This apartment was the retreat of Pepita, where no one entered during +the daytime except the doctor and the reverend vicar, and, in the +evening, only the overseer to settle accounts. This apartment was called +the library, and served the purpose of one. + +Pepita was seated, half reclining, on a sofa, before which stood a small +table with some books upon it. + +She had just risen, and was attired in a light summer wrapper. Her +blonde hair, not yet arranged, looked even more beautiful in its +disorder. Her countenance, somewhat pale, and, although it still +preserved its fresh and youthful aspect, showing dark circles under the +eyes, looked more beautiful than ever under the influence of the malady, +that robbed it of color. + +Pepita showed signs of impatience; she was waiting for some one. + +At last the person she was awaiting, who proved to be the reverend +vicar, arrived, and entered without announcement. + +After the usual salutations the reverend vicar settled himself +comfortably in an easy-chair, and the conversation thus began: + +"I am very glad, my child, that you sent for me; but, even without your +doing so, I was just coming to see you. How pale you are! What is it +that ails you? Have you something of importance to tell me?" + +Pepita began her answer to this series of affectionate inquiries with a +deep sigh; she then said: + +"Do you not divine my malady? Have you not discovered the cause of my +suffering?" + +The vicar made a gesture of denial, and looked at Pepita with something +like terror in his gaze; for he knew nothing of all that had taken +place, and was struck by the vehemence with which she spoke. + +Pepita continued: + +"I ought not to have sent for you, father. I should have gone to the +church myself instead, to speak with you in the confessional, and there +confess my sins. But, unhappily, far from repenting of them my heart has +hardened itself in wickedness. I have neither the courage nor the +desire to speak to the confessor, but only to the friend." + +"What are you saying about sins and hardness of heart? Have you taken +leave of your senses? What sins can you have committed, you who are so +good?" + +"No, father, I am not good. I have been deceiving you; I have been +deceiving myself; I have tried to deceive God." + +"Come, come, calm yourself; speak with moderation and common sense, and +don't talk foolishly." + +"And how shall I avoid talking foolishly when the spirit of evil +possesses me?" + +"Holy Virgin! Don't talk nonsense, child; the demons most to be feared +that take possession of the soul are three, and none of them, I am +certain, can have dared to enter into yours. One is Leviathan, or the +spirit of Pride; the other is Mammon, or the spirit of Avarice; and the +other is Asmodeus or the spirit of Unholy Love." + +"Well, I am the victim of all three; all three hold dominion over me." + +"This is dreadful! Calm yourself, I repeat. The real trouble with you is +that you are out of your head." + +"Would to God it were so! The contrary, unhappily for me, is the case. I +am avaricious, because I possess riches, and do not perform the works +of charity I ought to perform; I am proud, because I scorn the addresses +of my many suitors, not through virtue, not through modesty, but because +I thought them unworthy of my love. God has punished me; God has +permitted the third enemy you have named to take possession of me." + +"How is this, child? What diabolical notion has entered into your mind? +Have you by chance fallen in love? And, if you have, what harm is there +in that? Are you not free? Get married, then, and stop talking nonsense. +I am certain it is my friend Don Pedro de Vargas who has wrought the +miracle. That same Don Pedro is the very devil! I confess I am +surprised, though. I did not think matters had gone quite so far as that +already." + +"But it is not Don Pedro de Vargas I am in love with." + +"And with whom, then?" + +Pepita rose from her seat, went to the door, opened it, looked to see if +any one was listening outside, drew near to the reverend vicar, and, +with signs of the deepest distress, in a trembling voice, and with tears +in her eyes, said, almost in the ear of the good old man: + +"I am hopelessly in love with his son." + +"With whose son?" cried the reverend vicar, who could not yet bring +himself to believe what he had heard. + +"With whose son should it be? I am hopelessly, desperately in love with +Don Luis." + +Consternation and dolorous surprise were depicted on the countenance of +the kind and simple priest. There was a moment's pause; the vicar then +said: + +"But this is a love without hope; a love not to be thought of. Don Luis +will not love you in return." + +In the midst of the tears that clouded the beautiful eyes of Pepita +gleamed a joyful light; her rosy, dewy lips, contracted by sorrow, +parted in a smile, disclosing to view her pearly teeth. + +"He loves me," said Pepita, with a faint and ill-concealed accent of +satisfaction and triumph that rose exultant over her sorrow and her +scruples of conscience. + +The consternation and the astonishment of the reverend vicar here +reached their highest pitch. If the saint to whom he paid his most +fervent devotions had been suddenly cast down from the altar before him, +and had fallen, broken into a thousand fragments at his feet, the +reverend vicar could not have felt greater consternation than he did. He +still looked at Pepita with incredulity, as if doubting whether what she +had said were true, or only a delusion of feminine vanity, so firmly +did he believe in the holiness of Don Luis, and in his +spiritual-mindedness. + +"He loves me," Pepita repeated, in answer to his incredulous glance. + +"Women are worse than the very devil!" said the vicar. "You would set a +snare for the old boy himself." + +"Did I not tell you already that I was very wicked?" + +"Come, come! calm yourself. The mercy of God is infinite. Tell me all +that has happened." + +"What should have happened? That he is dear to me; that I love him; that +I adore him; that he loves me, too, although he strives to conquer his +love, and, in the end, may succeed in doing so; and that you, without +knowing it, are very much to blame for it all!" + +"Well, this caps the climax! What do you mean by saying I am very much +to blame?" + +"With the extreme goodness that is characteristic of you, you have done +nothing but praise Don Luis to me; and I am sure that you have +pronounced still greater eulogies on me to him, although very much less +deserved. What is the natural consequence? Am I of bronze? Have I not +the passions of youth?" + +"You are more than right; I am a dolt: I have contributed, in great +part, to this work of Lucifer." + +The reverend vicar was so truly good, and so full of humility, that, +while pronouncing the preceding words, he showed as much confusion and +remorse as if he were the culprit and Pepita the judge. + +Pepita, conscious of her injustice and want of generosity in thus making +the reverend vicar the accomplice, and scarcely less than the chief +author of her fault, spoke to him thus: + +"Don't torment yourself, father; for God's sake, don't torment yourself! +You see now how perverse I am. I commit the greatest sins, and I want to +throw the responsibility of them on the best and the most virtuous of +men. It is not the praises you have recited to me of Don Luis that have +been my ruin, but my own eyes, and my want of circumspection. Even +though you had never spoken to me of the good qualities of Don Luis, I +should still have discovered them all by hearing him speak; for, after +all, I am not so ignorant, nor so great a fool. And, in any case, I +myself have seen the grace of his person, the natural and untaught +elegance of his manners, his eyes full of fire and intelligence, his +whole self, in a word, which seems to me altogether amiable and +desirable. Your eulogies of him have indeed pleased my vanity, but they +did not awaken my inclinations. Your praises charmed me because they +coincided with my own opinion, and were like the flattering +echo--deadened, indeed, and faint--of my thoughts. The most eloquent +encomium you have pronounced, in my hearing, on Don Luis, was far from +being equal to the encomiums that I, at each moment, at each instant, +silently pronounced upon him in my own soul." + +"Don't excite yourself, child," interrupted the reverend vicar. + +Pepita continued, with still greater exaltation: + +"But what a difference between your encomiums and my thoughts! For you +Don Luis was the exemplary model of the priest, the missionary, the +apostle, now preaching the gospel in distant lands, now endeavoring in +Spain to elevate Christianity, so degraded in our day through the +impiety of some, and the want of virtue, of charity, and of knowledge, +of others. I, on the contrary, pictured him to myself handsome, loving, +forgetting God for me, consecrating his life to me, giving me his soul, +becoming my stay, my support, my sweet companion. I longed to commit a +sacrilegious theft: I dreamed of stealing him from God and from his +temple, like the thief who, proclaiming himself the enemy of Heaven, +robs the sacred monstrance of its most precious jewel. To commit this +theft I have put off the mourning garments of the widow and orphan, and +have decked myself with profane adornments; I have abandoned my +seclusion, and I have sought and gathered around me society. I have +tried to make myself look beautiful; I have cared for every part of this +miserable body--that must one day be lowered into the grave, and be +converted into dust--with an unholy devotion; and, finally, I have +looked at Don Luis with provoking glances, and on shaking hands with him +I have sought to transmit from my veins to his, the inextinguishable +fire that is consuming me." + +"Alas! my child, what grief it gives me to hear this! Who could have +imagined it?" said the vicar. + +"But there is still more," resumed Pepita; "I succeeded in making Don +Luis love me. He declared it to me with his eyes. Yes, his love is as +profound, as ardent as mine. His virtues, his aspirations toward +heavenly things, his manly energy, have all urged him to conquer this +insensate passion. I sought to prevent this. One day, at the end of many +days during which he had stayed away, he came to see me, and found me +alone. When he gave me his hand, I wept; I could not speak, but hell +inspired me with an accursed, mute eloquence that told him of my grief +that he had scorned me, that he did not return my love, that he +preferred another love--a love without stain--to mine. Then he was +unable to resist the temptation, and he approached his lips to my face +to kiss away my tears. Our lips met. If God had not willed that you +should approach at that moment, what would have become of me?" + +"How shameful! my child, how shameful!" said the reverend vicar. + +Pepita covered her face with both hands and began to sob like a +Magdalen. Her hands were, in truth, beautiful, more beautiful even than +Don Luis had described them to be in his letters. Their whiteness, their +pure transparency, the tapering form of the fingers, the roseate hue, +the polish and the brilliancy of the pearl-like nails, all were such as +might turn the head of any man. + +The virtuous vicar could understand, notwithstanding his eighty years, +the fall, or rather the slip, of Don Luis. + +"Child!" he exclaimed, "don't cry so! It breaks my heart to see you. +Calm yourself; Don Luis has no doubt repented of his sin; do you repent +likewise, and nothing more need be said. God will pardon you both, and +make a couple of saints of you. Since Don Luis is going away the day +after to-morrow, it is a sure sign that virtue has triumphed in him, and +that he flies from you, as he should, that he may do penance for his +sin, fulfill his vow, and return to his vocation." + +"That is all very well," replied Pepita; "fulfill his vow, return to his +vocation, after giving me my death-wound! Why did he love me, why did he +encourage me, why did he deceive me? His kiss was a brand, it was as a +hot iron with which he marked me and stamped me as his slave. Now that I +am marked and enslaved, he abandons and betrays and destroys me. A good +beginning to give to his missions, his preachings, and gospel triumphs! +It shall not be! By Heaven, it shall not be!" + +This outbreak of anger and scorned love confounded the reverend vicar. + +Pepita had risen. Her attitude, her gesture, had something in them of +tragic animation. Her eyes gleamed like daggers; they shone like two +suns. The vicar was silent, and regarded her almost with terror. She +paced with hasty steps up and down the apartment. She did not now seem +like a timid gazelle, but like an angry lioness. + +"What!" she said, once more facing the vicar, "has he nothing to do but +laugh at me, tear my heart to pieces, humiliate it, trample it under +foot, after having cheated me out of it? He shall remember me! He shall +pay me for this! If he is so holy, if he is so virtuous, why did he, +with his glance, promise me everything? If he loves God so much, why +does he seek to hurt one of God's poor creatures? Is this charity? Is +this religion? No; it is pitiless selfishness." + +Pepita's anger could not last long. After she had spoken the last words, +it turned to dejection. She sank into a chair, weeping bitterly, and +abandoning herself to an anguish heart-breaking to witness. + +The vicar's heart was touched with pity; but he recovered himself on +seeing that the enemy gave signs of yielding. + +"Pepita, child," he said, "be reasonable; don't torment yourself in this +way. Console yourself with the thought that it was not without a hard +struggle he was able to conquer himself; that he has not deceived you; +that he loves you with his whole soul, but that God and his duty come +first. This life is short, and soon passes. In heaven you will be +reunited, and will love each other, as the angels love. God will accept +your sacrifice; he will reward you, and repay you with interest. Even +your self-love ought to be satisfied. How great must be your merit, when +you have caused a man like Don Luis to waver in his resolution, and even +to sin! How deep must be the wound you have made in his heart! Let this +suffice you. Be generous! be courageous! Be his rival in firmness. Let +him depart; cast out from your heart the fire of impure love; love him +as your neighbor, for the love of God. Guard his image in your memory, +but as that of the creature, reserving to the Creator the noblest part +of your soul. I know not what I am saying to you, my child, for I am +very much troubled; but you have a great deal of intelligence and a +great deal of common sense, and you will understand what I mean. +Besides, there are powerful worldly reasons against this absurd love, +even if the vocation and the vow of Don Luis were not opposed to it. His +father is your suitor. He aspires to your hand, even though you do not +love him. Does it look well that the son should turn out now to be the +rival of his father? Will not the father be displeased with the son for +loving you? See how dreadful all this is, and control yourself for the +sake of Jesus and his blessed Mother." + +"How easy it is to give advice!" returned Pepita, becoming a little +calmer. "How hard for me to follow it, when there is a fierce and +unchained tempest, as it were, raging in my soul! I am afraid I shall go +mad." + +"The advice I give you is for your own good. Let Don Luis depart. +Absence is a great remedy for the malady of love. In giving himself up +to his studies, and consecrating himself to the service of the altar, he +will be cured of his passion. When he is far away, you will recover your +serenity by degrees, and will preserve in your memory only a grateful +and melancholy recollection of him that will do you no harm. It will be +like a beautiful poem whose music will harmonize your existence. Even if +all your desires could be fulfilled--earthly love lasts, after all, but +a short time. The delight the imagination anticipates in its +enjoyment--what is it in comparison with the bitter dregs that remain +behind, when the cup has been drained to the bottom? How much better is +it that your love, hardly yet contaminated, hardly despoiled of its +purity, should be dissipated, and exhale itself now, rising up to heaven +like a cloud of incense, than that, after it is once satisfied, it +should perish through satiety! Have the courage to put away from your +lips the cup while you have hardly tasted of its contents. Make of them +a libation and an offering to the Divine Redeemer. He will give you, in +exchange, the draught he offered to the Samaritan--a draught that does +not satiate, that quenches the thirst, and that produces eternal life." + +"How good you are, father! Your holy words lend me courage. I will +control myself; I will conquer myself. It would be shameful--would it +not?--that Don Luis should be able to control and conquer himself, and +that I should not be able to do so? Let him depart. He is going away the +day after to-morrow; let him go with God's blessing. See his card. He +was here with his father to take leave of me, and I would not receive +him. I do not even want to preserve the poetical remembrance of him of +which you speak. This love has been a nightmare; I will cast it away +from me." + +"Good! very good! It is thus that I want to see you--energetic, +courageous." + +"Ah, father, God has cast down my pride with this blow. I was insolent +in my arrogance, and the scorn of this man was necessary to my +self-abasement. Could I be more humbled or more resigned than I am now? +Don Luis is right: I am not worthy of him. However great the efforts I +might make, I could not succeed in elevating myself to him and +comprehending him, in putting my spirit into perfect communication with +his. I am a rude country girl, unlearned, uncultured; and he--there is +no science he does not understand, no secret of which he is ignorant, no +region of the intellectual world, however exalted, to which he may not +soar. Thither on the wings of his genius does he mount; and me he leaves +behind in this lower sphere, poor, ignorant woman that I am, incapable +of following him even in my hopes or with my aspirations." + +"But, Pepita, for Heaven's sake don't say such things, or think them! +Don Luis does not scorn you because you are ignorant, or because you are +incapable of comprehending him, or for any other of those absurd reasons +that you are stringing together. He goes away because he must fulfill +his obligation toward God; and you should rejoice that he is going away, +for you will then forget your love for him, and God will reward you for +the sacrifice you make." + + * * * * * + +Pepita, who had left off crying, and had dried her tears with her +handkerchief, answered quietly: + +"Very well, father; I shall be very glad of it; I am almost glad now +that he is going away. I long for to-morrow to pass, and for the time to +come when Antoñona shall say to me on wakening, 'Don Luis is gone.' You +shall see then how peace and serenity will spring up again in my heart." + +"God grant it may be so!" said the reverend vicar; and, convinced that +he had wrought a miracle and almost cured Pepita's malady, he took leave +of her and went home, unable to repress a certain feeling of vanity at +the thought of the influence he had exercised over the noble spirit of +this charming woman. + +Pepita, who had risen as the reverend vicar was about to take his leave, +after she had closed the door, stood for a moment immovable in the +middle of the room, her gaze fixed on space, her eyes tearless. A poet +or an artist, seeing her thus, would have been reminded of Ariadne, as +Catullus describes her, after Theseus has abandoned her on the island +of Naxos. All at once, as if she had but just succeeded in untying the +knot of a cord that was strangling her, Pepita broke into heart-rending +sobs, let loose a torrent of tears, and threw herself down on the tiled +floor of her apartment. There, her face buried in her hands, her hair +unbound, her dress disordered, she continued to sigh and moan. + +She might have remained thus for an indefinite time if Antoñona had not +come to her. Antoñona had heard her sobs from without and hurried to her +apartment. When she saw her mistress extended on the floor, Antoñona +gave way to a thousand extravagant expressions of fury. + +"Here's a pretty sight!" she cried; "that sneak, that blackguard, that +old fool, what a way he has to console his friends! I shouldn't wonder +if he has committed some piece of barbarity--given a couple of kicks to +this poor child, perhaps; and now I suppose he has gone back to the +church to get everything ready to sing the funeral chant, and sprinkle +her with hyssop, and bury her out of sight without more ado." + +Antoñona was about forty, and a hard worker--energetic, and stronger +than many a laborer. She often lifted up, with scarcely more than the +strength of her hand, a skin of oil or of wine, weighing nearly ninety +pounds, and placed it on the back of a mule, or carried a bag of wheat +up to the garret where the grain was kept. Although Pepita was not a +feather, Antoñona now lifted her up in her arms from the floor as if she +had been one, and placed her carefully on the sofa, as though she were +some delicate and precious piece of porcelain that she feared to break. + +"What is the meaning of all this?" asked Antoñona. "I wager anything +that drone of a vicar has been preaching you a sermon as bitter as +aloes, and has left you now with your heart torn to pieces with grief." + +Pepita continued to weep and sob without answering. + +"Come, leave off crying, and tell me what is the matter. What has the +vicar said to you?" + +"He said nothing that could offend me," finally answered Pepita. + +Then, seeing that Antoñona was waiting anxiously to hear her speak, and +feeling the need of unburdening herself to some one who could sympathize +more fully with her, and, humanly speaking, could better comprehend her +than the vicar, Pepita spoke as follows: + +"The reverend vicar has admonished me gently to repent of my sins; to +allow Don Luis to go away; to rejoice at his departure; to forget him. I +have said yes to everything; I have promised him to rejoice at Don +Luis's departure; I have tried to forget him, and even to hate him. But +look you, Antoñona, I can not; it is an undertaking superior to my +strength. While the vicar was here, I thought I had strength for +everything; but no sooner had he gone than, as if God had let go his +hold of me, I lost my courage, and fell, crushed with sorrow, on the +floor. I had dreamed of a happy life at the side of the man I love; I +already saw myself elevated to him by the miraculous power of love; my +poor mind in perfect communion with his sublime intellect; my will one +with his; both thinking the same thought; our hearts beating in unison. +And now God has taken him away from me, and I am left alone, without +hope or consolation. Is not this frightful? The arguments of the +reverend vicar are just and full of wisdom; for the time, they convinced +me. But he has gone away, and all those arguments now seem to me +worthless--a tissue of words, lies, entanglements, and sophistries. I +love Don Luis, and this argument is more powerful than all other +arguments put together. And if he loves me in return, why does he not +leave everything and come to me, break the vows he has taken, and +renounce the obligations he has contracted? I did not know what love +was; now I know; there is nothing stronger on earth or in heaven. What +would I not do for Don Luis? And he--he does nothing for me! Perhaps he +does not love me. No; Don Luis does not love me. I have deceived +myself; I was blinded by vanity. If Don Luis loved me, he would +sacrifice his plans, his vows, his fame, his aspirations to be a saint +and a light of the Church, he would sacrifice all to me. God forgive me, +what I am about to say is horrible, but I feel it here in the depths of +my heart, it burns here in my fevered brow: for him I would give even +the salvation of my soul!" + +"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Antoñona. + +"It is true; may our blessed Lady of Sorrows pardon me--I am mad--I know +not what I say. I blaspheme!" + +"Yes, child; you are talking indeed a little naughtily. Heaven help us! +To think how this cox-comb of a theologian has turned your head! Well, +if I were in your place, I would not take Heaven to task, which is in no +wise to blame, but this jackanapes of a collegian, and I would have it +out with him, or never again call myself Pepita Ximenez. I should like +to go hunt him up, and bring him here to you by the ear, and make him go +down on his knees before you, and beg your pardon." + +"No, Antoñona; I see that my madness is contagious, and that you are +raving, too. There is, in fact, nothing left for me to do but what the +reverend vicar advises. And I will do it, even though it should cost me +my life. If I die for him, he will then love me; he will cherish my +image in his memory, my love in his heart; and God, who is so good, will +permit me to see him again in heaven with the eyes of the soul, and will +let our spirits mingle together and love each other there." + +Antoñona, although of a rugged nature, and not at all sentimental, on +hearing these words felt the tears start to her eyes. + +"Good gracious, child!" she said; "do you want to make me take out my +handkerchief and begin to bellow like a calf? Calm yourself, and don't +talk about dying, even in jest. I can see that your nerves are very much +excited. Shan't I bring you a cup of linden tea?" + +"No, thanks; leave me; you see how calm I am now." + +"I shall close the window, then, to see if you can sleep. How should you +feel well, when you have not slept for days? The devil take that same +Don Luis, with his fancy for making himself a priest! A nice price you +are paying for it!" + +Pepita had closed her eyes; she was calm and silent, weary now of her +colloquy with Antoñona. + +The latter, either thinking she was asleep, or hoping her to be so, bent +over Pepita, imprinted a kiss softly and slowly on her white forehead, +smoothed oat the folds of her dress, arranged the windows so as to leave +the room in semi-obscurity, and went out on tiptoe, closing the door +behind her without making the slightest noise. + + * * * * * + +While these things were taking place at the house of Pepita, Don Luis de +Vargas in his was neither happier nor more tranquil than was she +herself. + +His father, who scarcely let a day pass without riding out into the +country, had to-day wished to take Don Luis with him; but, with the +pretext of a headache, he had excused himself, and Don Pedro had gone +without him. Don Luis had spent the whole morning alone, delivered up to +his melancholy thoughts, and continuing firm as a rock in his resolution +of blotting from his soul the image of Pepita, and of consecrating +himself wholly to God. + +Let it not be supposed, however, that he did not love the young widow. +We have already, in his letters, seen the proof of the vehemence of his +passion for her, but he continued his efforts to curb it by means of the +devout sentiments and elevated reflections of which he has given us in +his letters so extended a specimen, and of which we may here omit a +repetition, in order not to appear prolix. + +Perhaps, if we examine into this matter closely, we shall find that the +reasons which militated in the breast of Don Luis against his love for +Pepita were not only his vow to himself, which, though unconfirmed, was +binding in his eyes, or the love of God, or respect for his father, +whose rival he did not wish to be, or, finally, the vocation which he +felt himself to have for the priesthood. There were other reasons of a +more doubtful character than these. + +Don Luis was stubborn; he was obstinate; he had that quality of soul +which, well directed, constitutes what is called firmness of character, +and there was nothing that lowered him more in his own eyes than to feel +himself obliged to change his opinions or his conduct. The purpose of +his life, a purpose which he had declared and maintained on all +occasions, his moral ideal, in a word, was that of an aspirant to +holiness, of a man consecrated to God, of one imbued with the sublimest +religious teachings. All this could not fall to earth, as it would fall, +if he allowed himself to be carried away by his love for Pepita, without +great discredit. Although the price, indeed, was in this case +incomparably higher, yet Don Luis felt that, should he yield to his +passion, he would be following the example of Esau, selling his +birthright and bringing opprobrium on his name. + +Men, as a rule, allow themselves to be the plaything of circumstances; +they let themselves be carried along by the current of events, instead +of devoting all their energies to one single aim. We do not choose our +part in life, but accept and play the part allotted us, that which blind +fortune assigns to us. The profession, the political faith, the entire +life of many men depend on chance circumstances, on what is fortuitous, +on the caprice and the unexpected turns of fate. + +Against all this the pride of Don Luis rebelled with titanic power. What +would be thought of him, and above all, what would he think of himself +if the ideal of his life, the new man that he had created in his soul, +if all his plans of virtue, of honor, and even of holy ambition, should +vanish in an instant, should melt away in the warmth of a glance, at the +fugitive flame of a pair of beautiful eyes, as the hoar-frost melts in +the yet mild ray of the morning sun? + +These and other reasons of a like egotistic nature also militated, in +the breast of Don Luis, side by side with more weighty and legitimate +ones, against the widow; but every argument clothed itself in the same +religious garb, so that Don Luis himself was unable to recognize and +distinguish between them, believing to be the love of God not only what +was in truth the love of God, but also self-love. He recalled to mind, +for instance, the examples of many saints who had resisted greater +temptations than his, and he did not wish to be less than they. And he +recalled to mind, above all, the notable firmness of St. Chrysostom, who +was able to disregard the caresses of a tender and good mother, and her +tears and gentle entreaties, and all the eloquent and touching words she +spoke to him, in the very room where he was born, to the end that he +might not abandon her and become a priest. And, after reflecting on +this, Don Luis could not tolerate in himself the weakness of being +unable to scorn the entreaties of a woman who was a stranger to him, +whom he had known for so short a time, and of still wavering between his +duty and the attractions of one who was, perhaps, after all, rather than +enamored of him, merely a coquette. + +Don Luis then reflected on the supreme elevation of the sacerdotal +dignity to which he was called, regarding it in his thoughts as superior +to all the dignities and unsatisfying honors of the world; since it was +founded, neither by any mortal man, nor by the caprice of the variable +and servile populace, nor by the irruption or invasion of barbarians, +nor by the violence of rebellious armies urged on by greed, nor by angel +nor archangel, nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete himself. +How, for a motive so unworthy, for a mere woman, for a tear or two, +feigned, perhaps, scorn that august dignity, that authority that was not +conceded by God even to the archangels nearest to his throne? How +should he descend to be confounded among the obscure people, and become +one of the flock--he who had dreamed of being the shepherd, tying and +untying on earth what God should tie and untie in heaven, pardoning +sins, regenerating the people by water and by the spirit, teaching them +in the name of an infallible authority, pronouncing judgments that +should be ratified and confirmed by the Lord of the heavens--he, the +instructor and the minister in tremendous mysteries inscrutable by human +reason, calling down from heaven, not, like Elias, the flame that +consumes the victim, but the Holy Spirit, the Word made flesh, the river +of grace that purifies hearts and makes them clean like unalloyed gold? + +When Don Luis let his mind dwell on these thoughts, his spirit took +wings and soared up above the clouds into the empyrean, and poor Pepita +Ximenez remained below, far away, and hardly within sight. + +But the wings of his imagination soon drooped, and the spirit of Don +Luis touched earth again. Again he saw Pepita, so graceful, so young, so +ingenuous, and so enamored. Pepita combated in his soul his firmest and +most deep-seated resolutions, and Don Luis feared that in the end she +would put them all to flight. + +In this way was Don Luis allowing himself to be tormented by opposing +thoughts, that made war on each other, when Currito, without asking +leave or license, entered his room. + +Currito, who had held his cousin in very slight esteem so long as he was +only a student of theology, now regarded him with wonder and veneration, +looking upon him, from the moment when he had seen him manage Lucero so +skillfully, as something more than human. + +To know theology, and to be ignorant of horsemanship, was something +unflattering to Don Luis in the eyes of Currito; but when Currito saw +that, in addition to his learning, and to all those other matters of +which he himself knew nothing, although he supposed them to be difficult +and perplexing, Don Luis knew, besides, how to keep his seat so +admirably on the back of a fiery horse, his veneration and his affection +for his cousin knew no bounds. Currito was an idler, a good-for-nothing, +a very block of wood, but he had an affectionate and loyal heart. + +To Don Luis, who was the idol of Currito, happened what happens to all +superior natures when inferior persons take a liking to them. Don Luis +permitted himself to be loved, that is to say, he was governed +despotically by Currito in matters of little importance. And, as for men +like Don Luis there are hardly any matters of importance in common +daily life, the result was that Don Luis was led about by Currito like a +little dog. + +"I have come for you," the latter said, "to take you with me to the +club-house, which is full of people to-day, and presents a very animated +appearance. What is the use of sitting here longer, gazing into vacancy, +as if you were waiting to catch flies?" + +Don Luis, without offering any resistance, and as if these words were a +command, took his hat and cane, and saying, "Let us go wherever you +wish," followed Currito, who led the way, very well pleased with the +influence he exercised over his cousin. + +The club-house was full of people, owing to the festivities of the +morrow, which was St. John's day. Besides the gentry of the village, +many strangers were there, who had come in from the neighboring villages +to be present at the fair and the vigil in the evening. + +The principal point of reunion was the court-yard, which was paved with +marble. In its center played a fountain, which was adorned with +flower-pots containing roses, pinks, sweet-basil, and other flowers. +Around this court-yard ran a corridor or gallery, supported by marble +columns, in which, as well as in the various saloons that opened into +it, were tables for _ombre_, others with newspapers lying on them, +others where coffee and other refreshments were served, and finally, +lounges, benches, and several easy-chairs. The walls were like snow, +from frequent whitening; nor were pictures wanting for their adornment. +There were French colored lithographs, a minute explanation of the +subject of each being written, both in French and in Spanish below. Some +of them represented scenes to The life of Napoleon, from Toulon to St. +Helena; others, the adventures of Matilda and Malek-Adel; others. +Incidents in love and war, in the lives of the Templar, Rebecca, Lady +Rowena, and Ivanhoe; and others, the gallantries, the intrigues, the +lapses and the conversions of Louis XIV. and Mademoiselle de la +Vallière. + +Currito took Don Luis, and Don Luis allowed himself to be taken, to the +saloon where were gathered the cream of the fashion, the dandies and +_cocodés_ of the village and of the surrounding district. Prominent +among these was the Count of Genazahar, of the neighboring city of--. +The Count was an illustrious and much admired personage. He had made +visits of great length to Madrid and Seville, and, whether as a country +dandy or as a young nobleman, was always attired by the most fashionable +tailors. + +The Count of Genazahar was a little past thirty. He was good-looking, +and he knew it; and could boast of his prowess in peace and in war, in +duels and in love-making. The Count, however--and this notwithstanding +the fact that he had been one of the most persistent suitors of +Pepita--had received the sugar-coated pill of refusal that she was +accustomed to bestow on those who paid their addresses to her and +aspired to her hand. + +He had not yet recovered from the irritation produced in his proud heart +by this rejection. Love had turned into hatred, and the count lost no +occasion of giving utterance to his feelings, holding Pepita up, on such +occasions, to the most merciless ridicule. + +The count was engaged in this agreeable exercise, when, by an evil +chance, Don Luis and Currito approached, and joined the crowd that was +listening to the odd species of panegyric, which opened to receive them. +Don Luis, as if the devil himself had had the arrangement of the matter, +found himself face to face with the count, who was speaking as follows: + +"She's a cunning one, this same Pepita Ximenez, with more fancies and +whims than the Princess Micomicona. She wants to make us forget that she +was born in poverty, and lived in poverty until she married that +accursed usurer, Don Gumersindo, and took possession of his dollars. The +only good action this same widow has performed in her life was to +conspire with Satan to send the rogue quickly to hell, and free the +earth from such a contamination and plague. Pepita now has a hobby for +virtue and for chastity. All that may be very well; but how do we know +that she has not a secret intrigue with some plowboy, and is not +deceiving the world as if she were Queen Artemisia herself?" + +People of quiet tastes, who seldom take part in reunions of men only, +may perhaps be scandalized by this language; it may appear to them +indecent and brutal, even to the point of incredibility; but those who +know the world will confess that language like this is very generally +employed in it, and that the most amiable and agreeable women, the most +honorable matrons, if they chance to have an enemy, or even without +having one, are often made the subjects of accusations no less infamous +and vile than those made by the count against Pepita; for scandal is +often indulged in, or, to speak more accurately, dishonor and insult are +disseminated, for the purpose of showing wit and the power to entertain. + +Don Luis--who, from a child, had been accustomed to the consideration +and respect of those around him, first, of the servants and dependents +of his father, who gratified him in all his wishes, and then, of every +one in the seminary, where, as well because he was a nephew of the dean, +as on account of his own merits, he had never been contradicted in +anything, but, on the contrary, always pleased and flattered--stood, +when he heard the insolent count thus drag in the dust the name of the +woman he loved, as if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet. + +But how undertake her defense? He knew, indeed, that although he was +neither husband, brother, nor other relative of Pepita's, he might yet +come forward in her defense, as a man of honor; but he saw well the +scandal this would give rise to, since, far from saying a word in her +favor, all the other persons present joined in applauding the wit of the +count. He, already the minister, almost, of a God of peace, could not be +the one to give the lie to this ruffian, and thus expose himself to the +risk of a quarrel. + +Don Luis was on the point of departing in silence. But his heart would +not consent to this, and, striving to clothe himself with an authority +which was justified neither by his years nor by his countenance, where +the beard had scarcely begun to make its appearance, nor by his presence +in that place, he began to speak with earnest eloquence in denunciation +of all slanderers, and to reproach the count, with the freedom of a +Christian and in severe accents, with the vileness of his conduct. + +This was to preach in the desert, or worse. The count answered his +homily with gibes and jests; the by-standers, among whom were many +strangers, took the part of the jester, notwithstanding the fact that +Don Luis was the son of the squire. Even Currito, who was of no account +whatever, and who was, besides, a coward, although he did not laugh, yet +made no effort to take the part of his friend, and the latter was +obliged to withdraw, disturbed and humiliated by the ridicule he had +drawn on himself. + + * * * * * + +"This flower only was wanting to complete the nosegay," muttered poor +Don Luis between his teeth when he had reached his house and shut +himself up in his room, vexed and ill at ease because of the jeers of +which he had been the butt. He exaggerated them to himself; they seemed +to him unendurable. He threw himself into a chair, depressed and +disheartened, and a thousand contradictory ideas assailed his mind at +once. + +The blood of his father, which boiled in his veins, incited him to +anger, and urged him to throw aside the clerical garb, as he had in the +beginning been advised to do in the village, and then give the count his +deserts; but the whole future he had planned for himself would be thus, +at a blow, destroyed. He pictured to himself the dean disowning him; and +even the Pope, who had already sent the pontifical dispensation +permitting him to be ordained before the required age, and the bishop +of the diocese, who had based the petition for the dispensation on his +approved virtue and learning and on the firmness of his vocation, all +appeared before him now to reproach him. + +Then the humorous theory of his father in regard to those other +arguments, in addition to those of persuasion, of which the apostle St. +James, the bishops of the middle ages, and St. Ignatius Loyola had made +use, occurred to his mind, and it seemed to him now not so preposterous +as before, and he almost repented not having put them into practice. + +He then recalled to mind the custom of an orthodox doctor, a +distinguished philosopher of Persia, of our own day, mentioned in a book +recently written on that country--a custom which consisted in punishing +with harsh words his hearers and pupils when they laughed at his +teachings or could not understand them, and, if this did not suffice, in +descending from his chair, saber in hand, and giving them all a beating. +This method, as it appears, had proved efficacious, especially in +controversy; although it had chanced that the said philosopher, coming +across an opponent of the same way of thinking as himself, had received +from him a severe wound in the face. + +Don Luis, in the midst of his mortification and ill-humor, could not +help laughing at the absurdity of this recollection. He thought there +were not wanting in Spain philosophers who would willingly adopt the +Persian method; and, if he himself did not put it into practice, it was +certainly not through fear of the wounds he might receive, but through +considerations of greater weight. + +"I did very wrong in preaching there," he said to himself. "I should +have remained silent. Our Lord Jesus Christ has said, 'Give not that +which is holy to dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest +they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.' + +"But, no; why should I complain? Why should I return insult for insult? +Why should I allow myself to be vanquished by anger! Many holy fathers +have said, 'Anger in a priest is even worse than lasciviousness.' The +anger of priests has caused many tears to be shed, and has been the +cause of terrible evils. + +"Anger perhaps it was--this terrible counselor--that at times persuaded +them that it was necessary for the people to shed blood at the Divine +command, and that brought before their sanguinary eyes the vision of +Isaiah; they have then seen, and caused their fanatic followers to see, +the meek Lamb converted into an inexorable avenger, descending from the +summit of Edom, proud in the multitude of his strength, trampling the +nations under foot, as the treader tramples the grapes in the +wine-press, their garments raised, and covered with blood to the thighs. +Ah, no; my God! I am about to become thy minister. Thou art a God of +peace, and my first duty should be meekness. Thou makest the sun to +shine on the just and the unjust, and pourest down upon all alike the +fertilizing rain of thy inexhaustible goodness. Thou art our Father who +dwellest in the heavens, and we should be perfect, even as thou art +perfect, pardoning those who have offended us, and asking thee to pardon +them, because they know not what they do. I should recall to mind the +beatitudes of the Scripture: Blessed are ye when they revile you and +persecute you, and say all manner of evil things against you. The +minister of God, or he who is about to become his minister, must be +humble, peaceable, meek of heart; not like the oak that lifts itself up +proudly, until the thunderbolt strike it, but like the fragrant herbs of +the woods, and the modest flowers of the fields, that give sweeter and +more grateful perfume after the rustic has trodden them under foot." + +In these and other meditations of a like nature the hours passed until +three o'clock, when Don Pedro, who had just returned from the country, +entered his son's room to call him to dinner. The gay joviality of his +father, his jest, his affectionate attentions daring the meal, were all +of no avail to draw Don Luis from his melancholy, or to give him an +appetite; he ate little, and scarcely spoke while they were at table. + +Although much troubled by the silent melancholy of his son, whose +health, though indeed robust, was yet not beyond risk of being affected, +Don Pedro, who rose with the dawn and had a busy time of it during the +day, when he had finished his after-dinner cigar and taken his cup of +coffee and his glass of anisette, felt fatigued, and went, according to +his custom, to take his two or three hours of _siesta_. + +Don Luis had taken good care not to draw the attention of his father to +the offense done him by the Count of Genazahar. His father, who, for his +part, had no intention of fitting himself to celebrate mass, and who, +besides, was not of a very meek disposition, would have rushed +instantly, had he done so, to take the vengeance Don Luis had failed to +take. + +When his father had retired, Don Luis also left the dining-room, that he +might, in the seclusion of his own apartment, give himself up +undisturbed to his thoughts. + + * * * * * + +He had been sunk in them for a long time, seated before his desk, with +his elbows resting upon it, when he heard a noise close by. He raised +his eyes, and saw standing beside him the meddlesome Antoñona, who, +although of such massive proportions, had entered like a shadow, and was +now watching him attentively with a mixture of pity and of anger in her +glance. + +Antoñona, taking advantage of the hour in which the servants dined and +Don Pedro slept, had penetrated thus far without being observed, and had +opened the door of the room and closed it behind her so gently that Don +Luis, even if he had been less absorbed in meditation than he was, would +not have noticed it. + +She had come resolved to hold a very serious conference with Don Luis, +but she did not quite know what she was going to say to him. +Nevertheless, she had asked heaven or hell, whichever of the two it may +have been, to loosen her tongue and bestow upon her the gift of speech; +not such grotesque and vulgar speech as she generally used, but correct, +elegant, and adapted to the noble reflections and beautiful things she +thought it necessary for the carrying out of her purpose to say. + +When Don Luis saw Antoñona, he frowned, and showed by his manner how +much this visit displeased him, at the same time saying roughly: + +"What do you want here? Go away!" + +"I have come to call you to account about my young mistress," returned +Antoñona, quietly, "and I shall not go away until you have answered +me." + +She then drew a chair toward the table and sat down in it, facing Don +Luis with coolness and effrontery. + +Don Luis, seeing there was no help for it, restrained his anger, armed +himself with patience, and, in accents less harsh than before, +exclaimed: + +"Say what you have to say!" + +"I have to say," resumed Antoñona, "that what you are plotting against +my mistress is a piece of wickedness. You are behaving like a villain. +You have bewitched her; you have given her some malignant potion. The +poor angel is going to die; she neither eats nor sleeps, nor has a +moment's peace, on account of you. To-day she has had two or three +hysterical attacks at the bare thought of your going away. A good deed +you have done before becoming a priest! Tell me, wretch, why did you not +stay where you were, with your uncle, instead of coming here? She, who +was so free, so completely mistress of her own will, enslaving that of +others, and allowing her own to be taken captive by none, has fallen +into your treacherous snares. Your hypocritical sanctity was, doubtless, +the lure you employed. With your theologies and your pious humbugs you +have acted like the wily and cruel sportsman, who attracts to him by his +whistle the silly thrushes, only to strangle them in the net." + +"Antoñona," returned Don Luis, "leave me in peace. For God's sake, +cease to torture me! I am a villain; I confess it. I ought not to have +looked at your mistress; I ought not to have allowed her to believe that +I loved her; but I loved her, and I love her still, with my whole heart; +and I have given her no other potion or philter than the love I have for +her. It is my duty, nevertheless, to cast away, to forget this love. God +commands me to do so. Do you imagine that the sacrifice I make will not +be--is not already--a tremendous one? Pepita ought to arm herself with +fortitude and make a similar sacrifice." + +"You do not give even that consolation to the unhappy creature," replied +Antoñona. "You sacrifice voluntarily, on the altar, this woman who loves +you, who is already yours--your victim. But she--what claim has she on +you that she should offer you up as a sacrifice? What is the precious +jewel she is going to renounce, what the beautiful ornament she is going +to cast into the flames, but an ill-requited love? How is she going to +give to God what she does not possess? Is she going to try to cheat God, +and say to him: 'My God, since he does not love me, here he is; I offer +him up to you; I will not love him either.' God never laughs--if he did, +he would laugh at such a present as that!" + +Don Luis, confounded, did not know what answer to return to these +arguments of Antoñona, more atrocious than her former pinches. Besides, +it was repugnant to him to discuss the metaphysics of love with a +servant. + +"Let us leave aside," he said, "these idle discussions. I can not cure +the malady of your mistress. What would you have me do?" + +"What would I have you do?" replied Antoñona, more gently, and with +insinuating accents; "I will tell you what I would have you do. If you +can not cure the malady of my mistress, you should, at least, alleviate +it a little. Are you not saintly? Well, the saints are compassionate, +and courageous besides. Don't run away like an ill-mannered coward, +without saying good-by. Come to see my mistress, who is sick. Do this +work of mercy." + +"And what would be gained by such a visit? It would aggravate her +malady, instead of curing it." + +"It will not do so; you don't see the matter in its proper light. You +shall go to see her, and, with your honeyed tongue and the gift of the +gab that nature has bestowed upon you, you will put some resignation +into her soul, and leave her consoled for your departure; and if you +tell her, in addition to this, that you love her, and that it is only +for the sake of God you are leaving her, her woman's vanity, at least, +will not be wounded." + +"What you propose to me is to tempt God; it is dangerous both for her +and for me." + +"And why should it be to tempt God? Since God can see the rectitude and +the purity of your intentions, will he not grant you his favor and his +grace that you may not yield to temptation during the visit to her, +which it is but justice you should make? Ought you not to fly to her to +deliver her from despair, and bring her back to the right path? If she +should die of grief at seeing herself scorned; or if, in a frenzy, she +should seize a rope and hang herself to a beam, I tell you, your remorse +would be harder to bear than the flames of pitch and sulphur that +surround the caldrons of Lucifer." + +"This is horrible! I would not have her grow desperate. I shall arm +myself with courage--I will go to see her." + +"May Heaven bless you! But my heart told me you would go. How good you +are!" + +"When do you wish me to go?" + +"To-night, at ten o'clock precisely. I will be at the street-door +waiting for you, and will take you to her." + +"Does she know you have come to see me?" + +"She does not--it was all my own idea; but I will prepare her +cautiously, so that the surprise, the unexpected joy of your visit, may +not be too much for her. You promise me to come?" + +"I will go." + +"Good-by. Don't fail to come. At ten o'clock precisely. I shall be at +the door." + +And Antoñona hurried away, descended the steps two at a time, and so +gained the street. + + * * * * * + +It can not be denied that Antoñona displayed great prudence on this +occasion, and that her language was so dignified and proper that some +may think it apocryphal, if there were not the very best authority for +all that is related here, and if we did not know, besides, the wonders +the natural cleverness of a woman may work when she is spurred on by +interest or by some strong passion. + +Great, indeed, was the affection Antoñona entertained for her mistress, +and, seeing her so much in love and in such desperate case, she could do +no less than seek a remedy for her ills. The consent she had succeeded +in obtaining from Don Luis to her request that he should pay a visit to +Pepita was an unexpected triumph; and, in order to derive the greatest +possible advantage from this triumph, she was obliged to make the most +of her time, and to use all her worldly wisdom in preparing for the +occasion. + +Antoñona had suggested ten as the hour of Don Luis's visit, because this +was the hour in which Don Luis and Pepita had been accustomed to see +each other in the now abolished or suspended gatherings at the house of +the later. She had suggested this hour also in order to avoid giving +rise to scandal or slander; for she had once heard a preacher say that, +according to the gospel, there is nothing so wicked as scandal, and that +the scandal-monger ought to be flung into the sea with a mill-stone hung +round his neck. + +Antoñona, then, returned to the house of her mistress, very well +satisfied with herself and with the firm determination so to arrange +matters that the remedy she had sought should not prove useless, or +aggravate instead of curing Pepita's malady. She resolved to say nothing +of the matter to Pepita herself until the last moment, when she would +tell her that Don Luis had asked her of his own accord at what hour he +might make a farewell visit, and that she had said ten. + +In order to avoid giving rise to talk, she determined that Don Luis +should not be seen to enter the house, and for this the hour and the +internal arrangement of the house itself were alike propitious. At ten +the street would be full of people, on account of the vigil, which would +make it easier for Don Luis to reach the house without being observed. +To enter the hall would be the work of a moment, and Antoñona, who would +be waiting for him, could then take him to the library without any one +seeing him. + +All, or at least the greater part, of the handsome country-houses of +Andalusia are in construction double rather than single houses. Each +house, of these double houses, has its own door. The principal door +leads to the court-yard, which is pared and surrounded by columns, to +the parlors and the other apartments of the family; the other to the +inner yards, the stable and coach-house, the kitchens, the mill, the +wine-press, the granaries, the buildings where are kept the oil, the +must, the alcohol, the brandy and the vinegar, in large jars; and the +cask stores, or cellars, where the newly made wine, and that which has +been long kept, is stored in pipes or barrels. This second house, or +portion of a house, although it may be situated in the heart of a town +of twenty or twenty-five thousand inhabitants, is called _farm-house_. +The overseer, the foreman, the muleteer, the principal workmen, and the +domestics who have been longest in the service of the master, are +accustomed to gather here in the evenings, during the winter, around the +enormous fireplace of a spacious kitchen, and in summer in the open air, +or in some cool and well-ventilated apartment, and there chat or take +their ease until the master's family are about to retire. + +Antoñona was of opinion that the colloquy or explanation, which she +desired should take place between her mistress and Don Luis required +tranquillity, and should be interrupted by no one; and she therefore +determined that, as it was St. John's eve, the maid-servants of Pepita +should be to-night released from all their occupations, and should go to +amuse themselves at the farm-house, where, in union with the rustic +laborers, they might get up impromptu amusements, to consist of +fandangos, the recitation of pretty verses, playing the castanets, jigs, +and country-dances. + +In this manner the dwelling-house--without other occupants than Pepita +and herself--would be silent and almost deserted, and suited to the +solemnity and undisturbed quiet desirable in the interview she had +planned, and on which perhaps--or rather to a certainty--depended the +fate of two persons of such distinguished merit. + + * * * * * + +While Antoñona went about turning over and arranging in her mind all +these things, Don Luis had no sooner been left alone than he regretted +having proceeded with so much haste, and weakly consenting to the +interview Antoñona had asked of him. As he reflected upon it, it seemed +to him more full of peril than those of Oenone or Celestina. He saw +before him all the danger to which he voluntarily exposed himself, and +he could see no advantage whatever in thus making in secret, and by +stealth, a visit to the beautiful widow. + +To go and see her in order to succumb to her attractions and fall into +her snares, making a mockery of his vows, and placing not only the +bishop, who had indorsed his petition for a dispensation, but even the +holy Pontiff, who had conceded it, in a false position, by relinquishing +his purpose of becoming a priest, seemed to him very dishonorable. It +was, besides, a treason against his father, who loved Pepita and desired +to marry her; and to visit her in order to undeceive her in regard to +his love for her, seemed to him a greater refinement of cruelty than to +depart without saying anything. + +Influenced by these considerations, the first thought of Don Luis was to +fail, without excuse or warning, to keep his appointment, and leave +Antoñona to wait in vain for him in the hall; but then, as Antoñona had, +in all probability, already announced his visit to her mistress, he +would, by failing to go, unpardonably offend, not only Antoñona, but +Pepita herself. + +He then resolved on writing Pepita a very affectionate and discreet +letter, excusing himself from going to see her, justifying his conduct, +consoling her, manifesting his tender sentiments toward her, while +letting her see that duty and Heaven were before everything, and +endeavoring to inspire her with the courage to make the same sacrifice +as he himself was making. + +He made four or five different attempts to write this letter. He blotted +a great deal of paper which he afterward tore up, and could not, in the +end, succeed in getting the letter to his taste. Now it was dry, cold, +pedantic, like a poor sermon or a school-master's discourse; now its +contents betrayed a childish apprehension, as if Pepita were a monster +lying in wait to devour him; now it had other faults not less serious. +In fine, after wasting many sheets of paper in the attempt, the letter +remained unwritten. + +"There is no help for it," said Don Luis to himself; "the die is cast. I +must only summon courage and go." + +He comforted his spirit with the hope that his self-control would not +forsake him during the coming interview; and that God would endow his +lips with eloquence to persuade Pepita, who was so good, that it was she +herself who, sacrificing her earthly love, urged him to fulfill his +vocation, resembling in this those holy women of whom there are not +wanting examples, who not only renounced the society of a bridegroom or +a lover, but even the companionship of a husband, as is narrated, for +instance, in the life of St. Edward, of England, whose queen lived with +him as a sister. + +Don Luis felt himself consoled and encouraged by this thought, and he +already pictured himself as St. Edward, and Pepita as Queen Edith. And +under the form and in the character of this virgin queen, Pepita +appeared to him, if possible, more graceful, charming, and romantic +than ever. + +Don Luis was not, however, altogether so secure of himself, or so +tranquil, as he should have been, after forming the resolution of +following the example of St. Edward. There seemed to him something +almost criminal, which he could not well define, in the visit he was +about to make to Pepita without his father's knowledge. He felt tempted +to awaken him from his _siesta_, and to reveal everything to him; two or +three times he rose from his chair with this purpose; then he stopped, +feeling that such a revelation would be dishonoring, and a disgraceful +exhibition of childishness. He might betray his own secrets, but to +betray those of Pepita in order to set himself right with his father, +seemed to him contemptible enough. The baseness and the ridiculous +meanness of the action were still further increased in his eyes by the +reflection that what prompted him to it was the fear of not being strong +enough to resist temptation. + +Don Luis kept silence, therefore, and revealed nothing to his father. + +More than this, he did not even feel that he had the confidence and +composure necessary to present himself before his father, with the +consciousness of this secret interview interposing itself as a barrier +between them. He was indeed so excited and so beside himself, under the +influence of the contending emotions that disputed the possession of his +soul, that he felt as if the room, though a large one, was too small to +contain him. Starting to his feet, he paced with rapid strides up and +down the floor, like some wild animal in his cage, impatient of +confinement. At last, although--being summer--the window was open, he +felt as if he could remain here no longer, lest he should suffocate for +want of air; as if the roof pressed down upon his head; as if, to +breathe, he needed the whole atmosphere; to walk, he required space +without limits; to lift up his brow, and exhale his sighs, and elevate +his thoughts, to have nothing less than the immeasurable vault of heaven +above him. + +Impelled by this necessity, he took his hat and cane and went out into +the street. Thence, avoiding every one he knew, he passed on into the +country, plunging into the leafiest and most sequestered recesses of the +gardens and walks that encompass the village, and make, for a radius of +more than half a league, a paradise of its surroundings. + +We have said but little, thus far, concerning the personal appearance of +Don Luis. Be it known, then, that he was in every sense of the word a +handsome fellow--tall, well formed, with black hair, and eyes also black +and full of fire and sweetness. His complexion was dark, his teeth were +white, his lips delicate and curling slightly, which gave to his +countenance an appearance of disdain; his bearing was manly and bold, +notwithstanding the reserve and meekness proper to his sacred character. +The whole mien of Don Luis bore, in a word, that indescribable stamp of +distinction and nobility that seems to be--though this is not always the +case--the peculiar quality and exclusive privilege of aristocratic +families. + +On beholding Don Luis one could not but confess that Pepita Ximenez was +aesthetic by instinct. + +Don Luis hurried on with precipitate steps in the course he had taken, +jumping across brooks and hardly glancing at surrounding objects, almost +as a bull stung by a hornet might do. The countrymen he met, the +market-gardeners who saw him pass, very possibly took him for a madman. + +Tired at last of walking on aimlessly, he sat down at the foot of a +stone cross near the ruins of an ancient convent of St. Francis de Paul, +almost two miles from the village, and there plunged anew into +meditation, but of so confused a character that he himself was scarcely +conscious of what was passing in his mind. + +The sound of the distant bells, calling the faithful to prayer and +reminding them of the salutation of the angel to the Most Holy Virgin, +reaching these solitudes through the rarefied atmosphere, drew Don Luis +at last from his meditations, and made him once more conscious of the +world of reality. + +The sun had just sunk behind the gigantic peaks of the neighboring +mountains, making their summits--in the shape of pyramids, needles, and +broken obelisks--stand out in bold relief against a background of topaz +and amethyst--for such was the appearance of the heavens, gilded by the +beams of the setting sun. The shadows began to deepen over the plain, +and, on the mountains opposite to those behind which the sun was +sinking, the more elevated peaks shone like flaming gold or crystal. + +The windows and the white walls of the distant sanctuary of the Virgin, +patroness of the village, which is situated on the summit of a distant +hill, as well as those of another small temple or hermitage, situated on +a nearer hill called Calvary, still shone like two beacon-lights, +touched by the oblique rays of the setting sun. + +Nature exhaled a poetic melancholy, and all things seemed to intone a +hymn to the Creator, with that silent music heard only by the spirit. +The low sound of the bells, softened and almost lost in the distance, +hardly disturbed the repose of the earth, and invited to prayer, without +distracting the senses by their noise. Don Luis uncovered his head, +knelt down at the foot of the cross, the pedestal of which had served +him as a seat, and repeated with profound devotion the _Angelus Domini_. + +The shades of evening were gathering fast; but when Night unfolds her +mantle, and spreads it over those favored regions, she delights to adorn +it with the most luminous stars, and with a still brighter moon. The +vault of heaven did not exchange its cerulean hue for the blackness of +night; it still retained it, though it had assumed a deeper shade. The +atmosphere was so clear and pure that myriads of stars could be descried +shining far into the limitless depths of space. The moon silvered the +tops of the trees, and touched with its splendor the waters of the +brooks that gleamed, luminous and transparent, with colors as changeful +and iridescent as the opal. In the leafy groves the nightingales were +singing. Herbs and flowers shed a rich perfume. Countless multitudes of +glow-worms shone like diamonds or carbuncles among the grass and wild +flowers along the banks of the brooks. In this region the winged +glow-worm is not found, but another and smaller species abounds, and +sheds a most brilliant light. Fruit-trees still in blossom, acacias and +roses without number, perfumed the air with their rich fragrance. + +Don Luis felt himself swayed, seduced, vanquished, by this +voluptuousness of nature, and began to doubt himself. It was necessary, +however, to fulfill his promise and keep his appointment. + +Deviating often from the straight path, hesitating at times whether he +should not rather push forward to the source of the river, where, at the +foot of a mountain and in the midst of the most enchanting surroundings, +the crystal torrent that waters the neighboring gardens and orchards +bursts from the living rock, he turned back, with slow and lingering +step, in the direction of the village. + +In proportion as he approached the village, the terror inspired by the +thought of what he was about to do increased. He plunged into the +thickest of the wood, hoping there to behold some wonder, some sign, +some warning, that should draw him back. He thought often of the student +Lisardo, and wished that, like him, he might behold his own burial. But +heaven smiled with her thousand lights, and invited to love; the stars +looked at each other with love; the nightingales sang of love; even the +crickets amorously vibrated their sonorous elytra, as troubadours the +plectrum, in a serenade; all the earth on this tranquil and beautiful +night seemed given up to love. There was no warning; there was no sign; +there was no funeral pomp; all was life, peace, joy. + +Where was now his guardian angel? Had he abandoned Don Luis as already +lost, or, deeming that he ran no risk, did he make no effort to turn him +from his purpose? Who can say? Perhaps from the danger that menaced him +would, in the end, result a triumph. St. Edward and Queen Edith +presented themselves again to the imagination of Don Luis, and +strengthened his resolution. + +Engrossed in these meditations, he delayed his return, and was still +some distance from the village when ten, the hour appointed for his +interview with Pepita, struck from the parish clock. The ten strokes of +the bell were ten blows that, falling on his heart, wounded it as with a +physical pain--a pain in which dread and treacherous disquiet were +blended with a ravishing sweetness. + +Don Luis hastened his steps that he might reach Pepita's house as soon +after the appointed hour as was now possible, and shortly found himself +in the village. + +The village presented a most animated scene. Young girls flocked to wash +their faces at the fountain on the common--those who had sweethearts, +that their sweethearts might remain faithful to them; and those who had +not, that they might obtain sweethearts. Here and there women and +children were returning from the fields, with verbena, branches of +rosemary, and other plants, which they had been gathering, to burn as a +charm. Guitars tinkled on every side, words of love were to be +overheard, and everywhere happy and tender couples were to be seen +walking together. The vigil and the early morning of St. John's day, +although a Christian festival, still retain a certain savor of paganism +and primitive naturalism. This may be because of the approximate +concurrence of this festival and the summer solstice. In any case, the +scene to-night was of a purely mundane character, without any religious +mixture whatever. All was love and gallantry. In our old romances and +legends the Moor always carries off the beautiful Christian princess, +and the Christian knight receives the reward of his devotion to the +Moorish princess, on the eve or in the early morning of St. John's day; +and the traditionary custom of the old romances had been, to all +appearances, preserved in the village. + +The streets were full of people. The whole village was out of doors, in +addition to the strangers from the surrounding country. Progress, thus +rendered extremely difficult, was still further impeded by the multitude +of little tables laden with _nougat_, honey-cakes, and toast, +fruit-stalls, booths for the sale of dolls and toys, and cake-shops, +where gypsies, young and old, by turns fried the dough, tainting the air +with the odor of oil, weighed and served the cakes, responded with +ready wit to the compliments of the gallants who passed by, and told +fortunes. + +Don Luis sought to avoid meeting any of his acquaintances, and, when he +caught sight by chance of any one he knew, he turned his steps in +another direction. Thus, by degrees, he reached the entrance to Pepita's +house without having been stopped or spoken to by any one. His heart now +began to beat with violence, and he paused a moment to recover his +serenity. He looked at his watch; it was almost half-past ten. + +"Good heavens!" he exclaimed; "she has been waiting for me nearly half +an hour." + +He then hurried his pace and entered the hall. The lamp by which it was +always lighted was burning dimly on this particular evening. + +No sooner had Don Luis entered the hall than a hand, or rather a talon, +seized him by the right arm. It belonged to Antoñona, who said to him +under her breath: + +"A pretty fellow you are, for a collegian! Ingrate! good-for-nothing! +vagabond! I began to think you were not coming. Where have you been, +imbecile? How dare you delay, as if you had no interest in the matter, +when the salt of the earth is melting for you, and the sum of beauty +awaits you?" + +While Antoñona was giving utterance to these complaints, she did not +stand still, but continued to go forward, dragging after her by the arm +the now cowed and silent collegian. They passed the grated door, which +Antoñona closed carefully and noiselessly behind them. They crossed the +court-yard, ascended the stairs, passed through some corridors and two +interjacent apartments, and arrived at last at the door of the library, +which was closed. + +Profound silence reigned throughout the house. The library was situated +in its interior, and was thus inaccessible to the noises of the street. +The only sounds that reached it, confused and vague, were the shaking of +the castanets, the tinkle of the guitar, and the murmur of the voices of +Pepita's servants, who were holding their impromptu dance in the +farm-house. + +Antoñona opened the door of the library and pushed Don Luis toward it, +at the same time announcing him in these words: + +"Here is Don Luis, who has come to take leave of you." + +This announcement being made with due ceremony, the discreet Antoñona +withdrew, leaving the visitor and her mistress at their ease, and +closing behind her the door of the outer saloon. + + * * * * * + +At this point in our narrative we can not refrain from calling attention +to the character of authenticity that stamps the present history, and +paying a tribute of admiration to the scrupulous exactness of the person +who composed it. For, were the incidents related in these _paralipomena_ +fictitious, as in a novel, there is nor the least doubt but that an +interview so important and of such transcendent interest as that of +Pepita and Don Luis would have been brought about by less vulgar means +than those here employed. Perhaps our hero and heroine, in the course of +some new excursion into the country, might have been surprised by a +sudden and frightful tempest, thus finding themselves obliged to take +refuge in the ruins of some ancient castle or Moorish tower, with the +reputation, of course, of being haunted by ghosts or other supernatural +visitants. Perhaps our hero and heroine might have fallen into the power +of a party of bandits, from whom they would have escaped, thanks to the +presence of mind and courage of Don Luis; taking shelter afterward for +the night--they two alone, and without the possibility of avoiding +it--in a cavern or grotto. Or, finally, perhaps the author would have +arranged the matter in such a way as that Pepita and her vacillating +admirer would have been obliged to make a journey by sea, and, although +at the present day there are neither pirates nor Algerine corsairs, it +is not difficult to invent a good shipwreck, during which Don Luis +could have saved Pepita's life, taking refuge with her afterward on a +desert island, or some other equally romantic and solitary place. Any +one of these devices would more artfully prepare the way for the tender +colloquy of the lovers, and would better serve to exculpate Don Luis. We +are of the opinion, nevertheless, that, instead of censuring the author +for not having had recourse to such complications as those we have +mentioned, we ought rather to thank him for his conscientiousness in +sacrificing to the truth of his relation the marvelous effect he might +have produced, had he ventured to ornament and adorn it with incidents +and episodes drawn from his own fancy. + +If the means by which this interview was brought about were, in reality, +only the officiousness and the skill of Antoñona, and the weakness with +which Don Luis acceded to her request that he should grant it, why forge +lies, and cause the two lovers to be impelled, as it were, by Fate, to +see and speak with each other alone, to the great danger of the virtue +and honor of both? There was nothing of this. Whether Don Luis did well +or ill in keeping his appointment, and whether Pepita Ximenez, whom +Antoñona had already told that Don Luis was coming of his own accord to +see her, did well or ill in rejoicing over that somewhat mysterious and +inopportune visit, let us not throw the blame on Fate, but on the +personages themselves who figure in this history, and on the passions +by which they are actuated. We confess to a great affection for Pepita; +but the truth is before everything, and must be declared, even should it +be to the prejudice of our heroine. + +At eight o'clock, then, Antoñona had told her that Don Luis was coming, +and Pepita, who had been talking of dying, whose eyes were red, whose +eyelids were slightly inflamed with weeping, and whose hair was in some +disorder, thought of nothing, thereafter, but of adorning and arranging +herself for the purpose of receiving Don Luis. She bathed her face with +warm water, so that the ravages her tears had made might be effaced to +the exact point of leaving her beauty unimpaired, while still allowing +it to be seen that she had wept. She arranged her hair, so as to +display, rather than a studied care in its arrangement, a certain +graceful and artistic carelessness, that fell short of disorder, +however, which would have been indecorous; she polished her nails, and, +as it was not fit that she should receive Don Luis in a wrapper, she put +on a simple house-dress. In fine, she managed instinctively that all the +details of her toilet should concur in heightening her beauty and grace, +but without allowing any trace to be perceived of the art, the labor, +and the time employed in the details. She would have it appear, on the +contrary, as if all this beauty and grace were the free gift of nature, +something inherent in her person, no matter how she might, owing to the +vehemence of her passions, neglect it on occasion. + +Pepita, so far as we have been able to discover, spent more than an hour +in these labors of the toilet, which were to be perceived only by their +results. She then, with ill-concealed satisfaction, gave herself the +final touch before the looking-glass. At last, at about half-past nine, +taking a candle in her hand, she descended to the apartment, in which +was the _Infant Jesus_. She first lighted the altar-candles which had +been extinguished; she saw with something of sorrow that the flowers +were drooping; she asked pardon of the sacred Image for neglecting it so +long, and, throwing herself on her knees before it, prayed in her +solitude with her whole heart, and with that frankness and confidence +that a guest inspires who has been so long an inmate of the house. Of a +_Jesus of Nazareth_ bearing the cross upon his shoulders, and crowned +with thorns; of an _Ecce Homo_, insulted and scourged, with a reed for +derisive scepter, and his hands bound with a rough cord; of a _Christ +crucified_, bleeding and moribund, Pepita would not have dared to ask +what she now asked of a Saviour, still a child, smiling, beautiful, +untouched by suffering, and pleasing to the eye. Pepita asked him to +leave her Don Luis; not to take him away from her, since he, who was so +rich and so well provided with everything, might, without any great +sacrifice, deny himself this one of his servants, and give him up to +her. + +Having completed these preparations, which we may classify as cosmetic, +indumentary, and religious, Pepita installed herself in the library, and +there awaited the arrival of Don Luis with feverish impatience. + +Antoñona had acted with prudence in not telling her mistress that Don +Luis was coming to see her until a short time before the appointed hour. +Even as it was, thanks to the delay of the gallant, poor Pepita, from +the moment in which she had finished her prayers and supplications to +the _Infant Jesus_, to that in which she beheld Don Luis standing in the +library, was a prey to anguish and disquietude. + +The visit began in the most grave and ceremonious manner. The customary +salutations were mechanically interchanged, and Don Luis, at the +invitation of Pepita, seated himself in an easy-chair, without laying +aside his hat or cane, and at a short distance from her. Pepita was +seated on the sofa; beside her was a little table on which were some +books, and a candle, the light from which illuminated her countenance. +On the desk also burned a lamp. Notwithstanding these two lights, +however, the apartment, which was large, remained for the greater part +in obscurity. A large window, which looked out on an inner garden, was +open on account of the heat; and although the grating of the window was +covered with climbing roses and jasmine, the clear beams of the moon +penetrated through the interlaced leaves and flowers, and struggled with +the light of the lamp and candle. Through the open window came, too, the +distant and confused sounds of the dance at the farm-house, which was at +the other extremity of the garden, the monotonous murmur of the fountain +below, and the fragrance of the jasmine and roses that curtained the +window, mingled with that of the mignonette, sweet-basil, and other +plants that adorned the borders beneath. + +There was a long pause--a silence as difficult to maintain as it was to +break. Neither of the two interlocutors ventured to speak. The situation +was, in truth, embarrassing. They found it as difficult to express +themselves then, as we find it now to reproduce their words; but there +is nothing else for it than to make the effort. Let us allow them to +speak for themselves, transcribing their words with exactitude. + + * * * * * + +"So you have finally condescended to come and take leave of me before +your departure," said Pepita; "I had already given up the hope that you +would do so." + +The part Don Luis had to perform was a serious one; and, besides this, +in this kind of dialogue, the man, not only if he be a novice, but even +when he is old in the business and an expert, is apt to begin with some +piece of folly. Let us not condemn Don Luis, therefore, because he also +began unwisely. + +"Your complaint is unjust," he said. "I came here with my father to take +leave of you, and, as we had not the pleasure of being received by you, +we left cards. We were told that your health was somewhat delicate, and +we have sent every day since to inquire for you. We were greatly pleased +to learn that you were improving. I hope you are now much better." + +"I am almost tempted to say I am no better," answered Pepita, "but, as I +see that you have come as the embassador of your father, and I do not +want to distress so excellent a friend, it is but right that I should +tell you, that you may repeat it to him, that I am much better now. But +it is strange that you have come alone. Don Pedro must be very much +occupied indeed, not to accompany you." + +"My father did not accompany me, madam, because he does not know that I +have come to see you. I have chosen to come without him because my +farewell must be a serious, a solemn, perhaps a final one, and his will +naturally be of a very different character. My father will return to +the village in a few weeks; it is possible that I may never return to +it, and, if I do, it will be in a very different character from my +present one." + +Pepita could not restrain herself. The happy future of which she had +dreamed vanished, at the words of Don Luis, into air. Her unalterable +resolution to vanquish, at whatever cost, this man, the only one she had +loved in her life, the only one she felt herself capable of loving, +seemed to have been made in vain. She felt herself condemned at twenty +years of age, with all her beauty, to perpetual widowhood, to solitude, +to an unrequited love--for any other love was impossible for her. The +character of Pepita, in whom obstacles only strengthened and kindled +afresh her desires, with whom a determination, once taken, carried +everything before it until it was fulfilled, showed itself now in all +its violence and without restraint. She must conquer, or die in the +attempt. Social considerations, the fixed habit of guarding and +concealing the feelings, acquired in the great world, which serve as a +restraint to the paroxysms of passion, and which veil in ambiguous +phrases, and dilute in circumlocutions, the most violent explosion of +undisciplined emotion, had no power with Pepita. She had had but little +intercourse with the world, she knew no middle way; her only rule of +conduct hitherto had been to obey blindly her mother and her husband +while they lived, and afterward to command despotically every other +human being. Thus it was that Pepita spoke her own thoughts on this +occasion, and showed herself such as she really was. Her soul, with all +the passion it contained, took sensible form in her words; and her +words, instead of serving to conceal her thoughts and her feelings, gave +them substance. She did not speak as a lady of our _salons_ would have +spoken, with circumlocutions and attenuations of expression, but with +that idyllic frankness with which Chloe spoke to Daphnis, and with the +humility and the complete self-abandonment with which the +daughter-in-law of Naomi offered herself to Boaz. + +"Do you then persist in your purpose?" she asked. "Are you sure of your +vocation? Are you not afraid of being a bad priest? Don Luis, I am going +to make a supreme effort. I am going to forget that I am an uncultured +girl; I am going to dispense with all sentiment, and to reason as coldly +as if it were concerning the matter most indifferent to me. Things have +taken place that may be explained in two ways; both explanations do you +discredit. I will show you what my thoughts are. If the woman who, with +her coquetries--not very daring ones, in truth--almost without a word, +and but a few days after seeing and speaking to you for the first time, +has been able to provoke you, to move you to look at her with glances +that betokened a profane love, and has even obtained from you a proof of +that love that would be a fault, a sin, in any one, but is so especially +in a priest--if this woman be, as she indeed is, a simple country-girl, +without education, without talent, and without elegance, what is not to +be feared of you when in great cities you see and converse with other +women a thousand times more dangerous? Your head will be turned when you +are thrown into the society of the great ladies who dwell in palaces, +who tread on soft carpets, who dazzle the eye with their diamonds and +pearls, who are clad in silks and laces instead of muslin and percale, +who leave bare the white and well-formed throat instead of covering it +with a plebeian and modest handkerchief, who are adepts in all the arts +of coquetry, and who, by reason of the very ostentation, luxury, and +pomp that surround them, are all the more desirable for being apparently +more inaccessible; who discuss politics, philosophy, religion, and +literature; who sing like canaries, who are enveloped, as it were, in +clouds of incense, adoration and homage, set upon a pedestal of triumphs +and of victories, glorified by the prestige of an illustrious name, +enthroned in gilded saloons, or secluded in voluptuous boudoirs, where +enter only the blest ones of the earth, its titled ones, perhaps, who +only to their most intimate friends are "Pepita," "Antoñita," or +"Angelita," and to the rest of the world, "Her Grace the Duchess," or +"the Marchioness." If you have yielded to the arts of an uncultured +peasant when you were on the eve of being ordained, and in spite of all +the enthusiasm for your calling that you may naturally be supposed to +entertain--if you have thus yielded, urged by a passing impulse, am I +not right in foreseeing that you will make an abominable priest, impure, +worldly, and of evil influence, and that you will yield to temptation at +every step? On such a supposition as this, believe me, Don Luis--and do +not be offended with me for saying so--you are not even worthy to be the +husband of an honest woman. If, with all the ardor and tenderness of the +most passionate lover, you have pressed the hand of a woman, if you have +looked at one, with glances that foretold a heaven, an eternity of love, +if you have kissed a woman that inspired you with no other feeling than +one that for me has no name, then go, in God's name, and do not marry +her! If she is virtuous, she will not desire you for a husband, nor even +for a lover; but, for God's sake, do not become a priest either! The +Church needs men more serious, more capable of resisting temptation, as +ministers of the Most High. + +"If, on the other hand, you have felt a noble passion for the woman of +whom we are speaking, although she be of little worth, why abandon and +deceive her with so much cruelty? However unworthy she may be, if she +has inspired this great passion, do you not suppose that she will share +it, and be the victim of it? For, when a love is great, elevated, and +passionate, does it ever fail to make its power felt? Does it not +tyrannize over and subjugate the beloved object irresistibly? By the +extent of your love for her you may measure that of her you love. And +how can you avoid fearing for her, if you abandon her? Has she the +masculine energy, the firmness of character produced by the wisdom +learned from books, the attraction of fame, the multitude of splendid +projects, and all the resources of your cultured and exalted intellect, +to distract her mind, and turn her away, without destructive violence, +from every other earthly affection? Can you not see that she will die of +grief, and that you, called by your destiny to offer up bloodless +sacrifices, will begin by pitilessly sacrificing her who most loves +you?" + +"I too, madam," returned Don Luis, endeavoring to conquer his emotion, +and to speak with firmness--"I too, madam, am obliged to make a great +effort in order to answer you with the calmness necessary to one who +opposes argument to argument, as in a controversy; but your accusation +is supported by so many reasons, and you have invested those +reasons--pardon me for saying so--with so specious an appearance of +truth, that I have no choice left me but to disprove them by other +reasons. I had no thought of being placed in the necessity of +maintaining a discussion here, and of sharpening my poor wits for that +purpose; but you compel me to do so, unless I wish to pass for a +monster. I am going to reply to the two extremes of the cruel dilemma in +which you have placed me. Though it is true that my youth was passed in +my uncle's house and in the seminary, where I saw nothing of women, do +not therefore think me so ignorant, or possessed of so little +imagination, that I can not picture to myself how lovely, how seductive +they may be. My imagination, on the contrary, went far beyond the +reality. Excited by the reading of the sacred writers and of profane +poets, it pictured women more charming, more graceful, more intelligent, +than they are commonly to be found in real life. I knew then, and I even +exaggerated to myself, the cost of the sacrifice I was making, when I +renounced the love of those women for the purpose of elevating myself to +the dignity of the priesthood. I know well how much the charms of a +beautiful woman are enhanced by rich attire, by splendid jewels, by +being surrounded with all the arts of refined civilization, all the +objects of luxury produced by the indefatigable labor and the skill of +man. I knew well, too, how much the natural cleverness of a woman is +increased, how much her natural intelligence is sharpened, quickened, +and brightened by intercourse with scientific men, by the reading of +good books, even by the familiar spectacle of the wealth and splendor of +great cities, and of the monuments of the past that they contain. All +this I pictured to myself with so much vividness, my fancy painted it in +such glowing colors, that you need have no doubt that, should I be +thrown into the society of those women of whom you speak, far from +feeling the adoration and the transports you prophesy, I shall rather +experience a disenchantment on seeing how great a distance there is +between what I dreamed of and the truth, between the living reality and +the picture of it that my fancy drew." + +"This is indeed specious reasoning," exclaimed Pepita. "How can I deny +that what you have pictured in your imagination is, in truth, more +beautiful than what exists in reality? but who will deny, either, that +the real possesses a more seductive charm than that which exists only in +the imagination? The vagueness and etherealness of a phantasm, however +beautiful it may be, can not compete with what is palpable and visible +to the senses. I can understand that holy images might exercise a more +powerful influence over your spirit than the pictures of mundane beauty +created by your fancy, but I fear that those holy images will not prove +equally powerful where mundane realities are concerned." + +"Have no such fear, madam," returned Don Luis. "My fancy possesses, by +its own creations, more power over my spirit than does the whole +universe--only excepting yourself--by what it transmits to it through +the senses." + +"And why except me? Such an exception gives room to the suspicion that +the idea you have of me, the idea which you love, may be but the +creation of this potent fancy of yours, and an illusion that resembles +me in nothing." + +"No, this is not the case. You may be assured that this idea resembles +you in everything. It may be that it is innate in my soul, that it has +existed in it since it was created by God, that it is a part of its +essence, the best and purest part of its being, as the perfume is of the +flower." + +"This is what I had feared, and now you confess it to me. You do not +love me. What you love is the essence, the fragrance, the purest part of +your own soul, that has assumed a form resembling mine." + +"No, Pepita; do not seek to amuse yourself in tormenting me. What I love +is you--and you such as you really are; but what I love is also so +beautiful, so pure, so delicate that I can not understand how it should +have reached my mind, in a material manner, through the senses. I take +it for granted, then, and it is my firm belief, that it must have had an +innate existence there. It is like the idea of God that is inborn in my +soul, that has unfolded and developed itself within my soul, and that +has, nevertheless, its counterpart in reality, superior, infinitely +superior to the idea. As I believe that God exists, so do I believe that +you exist, and that you are a thousand times superior to the idea that I +have formed of you." + +"Still, I have a doubt left. May it not be woman in general, and not I, +solely and exclusively, that has awakened this idea?" + +"No, Pepita; before I saw you, I had felt in imagination what might be +the magic power, the fascination of a woman, beautiful of soul and +graceful in person. There is no duchess or marchioness in Madrid, no +empress in all the world, no queen or princess on the face of the globe, +to be compared to the ideals and fantastic creations with whom I have +lived. These were inhabitants of the castles and boudoirs, marvels of +luxury and taste, that I pleased myself in boyhood by erecting in my +fancy, and that I afterward gave as dwelling-places to my Lauras, +Beatrices, Juliets, Marguerites, and Leonoras; to my Cynthias, Glyceras, +and Lesbias. Them I crowned in my imagination with coronets and Oriental +diadems; I clothed them in mantles of purple and gold, and surrounded +them with regal pomp like Esther and Vashti; I endowed them, like +Rebekah and the Shulamite, with the bucolic simplicity of the +patriarchal age; I bestowed on them the sweet humility and the devotion +of Ruth; I listened to them discoursing like Aspasia, or Hypatia, +mistresses of eloquence; I enthroned them in luxurious drawing-rooms, +and cast over them the splendor of noble blood and illustrious lineage, +as if they had been the proudest and noblest of patrician maidens of +ancient Rome; I beheld them graceful, coquettish, gay, full of +aristocratic ease and manner, like the ladies of the time of Louis XIV, +in Versailles; and I adorned them, now with the modest _stola_, that +inspired veneration and respect; now with diaphanous tunics and +_peplums_, through whose airy folds were revealed all the plastic +perfections of their graceful forms; now with the transparent _coa_, of +the beautiful courtesans of Athens and Corinth, showing the white and +roseate hues of the finely molded forms that glowed beneath their +vaporous covering. But what are the joys of the senses, what the glory +and magnificence of the world, to a soul that burns with and consumes +itself in Divine love, as I believed mine, perhaps with too much +arrogance, to burn and consume itself? As volcanic fires, when they +burst into flame, send flying into air, shattered in a thousand +fragments, the solid rocks, the mountain-side itself, that obstruct +their passage, so, or with even greater force, did my spirit cast from +itself the whole weight of the universe and of created beauty that lay +upon it and imprisoned it, preventing it from soaring up to God, as the +center of its aspirations. No; I have rejected no delight, no sweetness, +no glory, through ignorance. I knew them all, and valued them all at +more than their worth, when I rejected them all for a greater delight, a +greater sweetness, a greater glory. The profane love of woman presented +itself to my fancy, clothed, not only with all its own charms, but with +the sovereign and almost irresistible charms of the most dangerous of +all temptations--of that which the moralists call virginal +temptation--when the mind, not yet undeceived by experience and by sin, +pictures to itself in the transports of love a supreme and ineffable +delight immeasurably superior to all reality. Ever since I reached +manhood--that is to say, for many years past, for my youth was short--I +have scorned those delights and that beauty that were but the shadow and +the reflex of the archetypal beauty of which I was enamored, of the +supreme delight for which I longed. I have sought to die to myself, in +order to live in the beloved object, to free, not only my senses, but +even my soul itself, from every earthly affection, from illusions and +imaginings, in order to be able to say with truth that it is not I who +live, but Christ who lives in me. It may be, nay, it must be, that in +this I sinned through arrogance and self-confidence, and that God has +therefore wished to chastise me; and you came across my path, and +tempted me, and led me astray. Now you upbraid me, you deride me, you +accuse me of levity and of yielding easily to temptation; but in +upbraiding me and deriding me you insult yourself, for you thus imply +that any other woman might have had equal power over me. I do not wish, +when I ought to be humble, to fall into the sin of pride, by trying to +justify my fault. If God, in chastisement of my pride, has let me fall +from his grace, it is possible that any temptation, however slight, +might have made me waver and fall. Yet I confess that I do not think so. +It may be that I err in my judgment that this is but the consequence of +my undisciplined pride, but, I repeat, I do not think so. I can not +succeed in persuading myself that the cause of my fall had in it +anything either mean or base. Above all the dreams of my youthful +imagination, the reality, such as I beheld it in you, enthroned itself. +Above all the nymphs, queens, and goddesses of my fancy, you towered. +Above the ruins of my ideal creations, overthrown and shattered by +Divine love, there arose in my soul the faithful image, the exact +reproduction of the living beauty that adorns, that is the essence of +that body and of that soul. There may be even something mysterious, +something supernatural in this; for I loved you from the moment I first +saw you--almost before I saw you. Long before I was conscious of loving +you, I loved you. It would seem as if there were some fatality in +this--that it was decreed, that it was a predestination." + +"And if it were predestined, if it be decreed," said Pepita, "why not +submit to Fate, why still resist? Sacrifice your purpose to our love. +Have not I sacrificed much? Am I not now sacrificing my pride, my +decorum, my reserve, in supplicating you thus, in making this effort to +overcome your scorn? I too believe that I loved you before I saw you. +Now I love you with my whole heart, and without you there is no +happiness for me. It is true indeed that in my humble intelligence you +can find no rival so powerful as that which I have in yours. Neither +with the understanding, nor the will, nor the affections, can I raise +myself all at once up to God. Neither by nature nor by grace do I mount +or desire to mount up to such exalted spheres. My soul, nevertheless, is +full of religious devotion, and I know and love and adore God; but I +only behold his omnipotence and admire his goodness in the works that +have proceeded from his hands. Nor can I, with the imagination, weave +those visions that you tell me of. Yet I too dreamed of some one nobler, +more intelligent, more poetic, and more enamored, than the men who have +thus far sought my hand; of a lover more distinguished and accomplished +than any of my adorers of this and the neighboring villages, who should +love me, and whom I should love, and to whose will I should blindly +surrender mine. This some one was you. I had a presentiment of it when +they told me that you had arrived at the village. When I saw you for the +first time, I knew it. But, as my imagination is so sterile, the picture +I had formed of you in my mind was not to be compared, even in the most +remote degree, to the reality. I too have read something of romances and +poetry. But from all that my memory retained of them, I was unable to +form a picture that was not far inferior in merit to what I see and +divine in you since I have known you. Thus it is that from the moment I +saw you I was vanquished and undone. If love is, as you say, to die to +self, in order to live in the beloved object, then is my love genuine +and legitimate, for I have died to myself, and live only in you and for +you. I have tried to cast this love away from me, deeming it +ill-requited, and I have not been able to succeed in doing so. I have +prayed to God with fervor to take away from me this love, or else to +kill me, and God has not deigned to hear me. I have prayed to the +Virgin Mary to blot your image from my soul, and my prayer has been in +vain. I have made vows to my patron saint to the end that he would +enable me to think of you only as he thought of his blessed spouse, and +my patron saint has not succored me. Seeing all this, I have had the +audacity to ask of Heaven that you would allow yourself to be +vanquished, that you would cease to desire to be a priest, that there +might spring up in your soul a love as profound as that which is in my +heart. Don Luis, tell me frankly, has Heaven been deaf to this last +prayer also? Or is it, perchance, that to subjugate a soul as weak, as +wretched, and as petty as mine, a petty love is sufficient, while to +master yours, protected and guarded as it is by vigorous and lofty +thoughts, a more powerful love than mine is necessary, a love that I am +neither worthy of inspiring, nor capable of sharing, nor even able to +understand?" + +"Pepita," returned Don Luis, "it is not that your soul is less than +mine, but that it is free from obligations, and mine is not. The love +you have inspired me with is profound, but my obligations, my vows, the +purpose of my whole life so near to its realization, contend against it. +Why should I not say it without fearing to offend you? If you succeed in +making me love you, you do not humiliate yourself. If I succumb to your +love, I humiliate and abase myself. I leave the Creator for the +creature. I renounce the unwavering purpose of my life, I break the +image of Christ that was in my soul; and the new man, that I had created +in myself at such cost, disappears, that the old man may come to life +again. Instead of my lowering myself to the earth, to the impurity of +the world that I have hitherto despised, why do not you rather elevate +yourself to me by virtue of that very love you entertain for me, freeing +it from every earthly alloy? Why should we not love each other then +without shame, and without sin, and without dishonor? God penetrates +holy souls with the pure and refulgent fire of his love, and fills them +with it, so that, like a metal fresh from the forge, that, without +ceasing to be a metal, shines and glitters and is all fire, these souls +fill themselves with joy, and are in all things God, penetrated by God +in every part, through the grace of the Divine love. These souls then +love and enjoy each other, as if they loved and enjoyed God, loving and +enjoying him in truth, because they are God. Let us mount together in +spirit this steep and mystical ladder. Let our souls ascend, side by +side, to this bliss, which even in this mortal life is possible; but to +do this we must separate in the body; it is essential that I should go +whither I am called by my duty, my vow, and the voice of the Most High, +who disposes of his servant, and has destined him to the service of his +altar." + +"Ah, Don Luis," replied Pepita, full of sorrow and contrition, "now +indeed I see how vile is the metal I am made of, and how unworthy I am +that the Divine fire should penetrate and transform me. I will confess +everything, casting away even shame: I am a vile sinner; my rude and +uncultured understanding can not grasp these subtleties, these +distinctions, these refinements of love. My rebellious will refuses what +you propose. I can not even conceive of you but as yourself. For me you +are your mouth, your eyes, your dark locks that I desire to caress with +my hands, your sweet voice, the pleasing sound of your words that fall +upon my ears, and charm them through the senses; your whole bodily form, +in a word that charms and seduces me, and through which, and only +through which, I perceive the invisible spirit, vague and full of +mystery. My soul, stubborn, and incapable of these mysterious raptures, +will never be able to follow you to those regions whither you would take +it. If you soar up to them, I shall remain alone, abandoned, plunged in +the deepest affliction. I prefer to die; I deserve death; I desire it. +It may be that after death my soul, loosening or breaking the vile bonds +that chain it here, will be able to understand the love with which you +desire we should be united. Kill me, then, in order that we may thus +love each other; kill me, and then my spirit, set free, will follow you +whithersoever you may go, and will journey invisible by your side, +watching over your steps, contemplating you with ravishment, penetrating +your most secret thoughts, beholding your soul as it is, without the +intervention of the senses. But in this life it can not be. I love in +you, not only the soul, but the body, and the shadow cast by the body, +and the reflection of the body in the mirror and in the water, and the +Christian name, and the surname, and the blood, and all that goes to +make you such as you are, Don Luis de Vargas; the sound of your voice, +your gesture, your gait, and I know not what else besides. I repeat that +you must kill me. Kill me without compassion. No, I am not a Christian; +I am a material idolater." + +Here Pepita made a long pause. Don Luis knew not what to say, and was +silent. Tears bathed the cheeks of Pepita, who continued, sobbing: + +"I know it; you despise me, and you are right to despise me. With this +just contempt you will kill me more surely than with a dagger, and +without staining either your hands or your conscience with blood. +Farewell! I am about to free you from my odious presence. Farewell +forever!" + +Having said this, Pepita rose from her seat, and, without looking at Don +Luis, her face bathed with tears, beside herself, rushed toward the door +that led to the inner apartment. An unconquerable tenderness, a fatal +pity, took possession of Don Luis. He feared Pepita would die. He +started forward to detain her, but it was too late. Pepita had crossed +the threshold. Her form disappeared in the obscurity within. Don Luis, +impelled by a superhuman power, drawn as by an invisible hand, followed +her into the darkened chamber. + + * * * * * + +The library remained deserted. + +The servants' dance must have already terminated, for the only sound to +be heard was the murmur of the fountain in the garden below. + +Not even a breath of wind troubled the stillness of the night and the +serenity of the air. + +The perfume of the flowers and the light of the moon entered softly +through the open window. After a long interval, Don Luis made his +appearance, emerging from the darkness. Terror was depicted on his +countenance, mingled with despair--such despair as Judas may have felt +after he had betrayed his master. + +He dropped into a chair and, burying his face in his hands, with his +elbows resting on his knees, he remained for more than half an hour +plunged in a sea of bitter reflections. + +To see him thus, one might have supposed that he had just assassinated +Pepita. + +Pepita, nevertheless, at last made her appearance. With slow step, with +an air of the deepest melancholy, with bent head, and glance directed to +the floor, she approached Don Luis and spoke. + +"Now, indeed," said she, "though, alas! too late, I know all the +vileness of my heart and the iniquity of my conduct. I have nothing to +say in my own defense, but I would not have you think me more perverse +than I am. You must not think I have used any arts--that I have laid any +plans for your destruction. Yes; it is true that I have been guilty of +an atrocious crime, but an unpremeditated one; a crime inspired, +perhaps, by the spirit of evil that possesses me. Do not abandon +yourself to despair, do not torture yourself, for God's sake! You are +responsible for nothing. It was a frenzy, a madness that took possession +of your noble spirit. Your sin is a light one; mine is flagrant, +shameful, horrible. Now I am less worthy of you than ever. It is I who +ask you now to leave this place. Go; do penance. God will pardon you. +Go; a priest will give you absolution. Once cleansed from sin, carry out +your purpose, and become a minister of the Most High. Then, through the +holiness of your life, through your ceaseless labors, not only will you +efface from your soul the last traces of this fall, but you will obtain +for me, when you have pardoned me the evil I have done you, the pardon +of Heaven also. You are bound to me by no tie, and even if you were I +should loosen or break it. You are free. Let it suffice me that I have +taken captive by surprise the star of the morning. It is not my +desire--I neither can nor ought to seek to keep him in my power. I +divine it, I read it in your gesture, I am convinced of it--you despise +me more than before; and you are right in despising me. There is neither +honor, nor virtue, nor shame in me." + +When she had thus spoken, Pepita, throwing herself on her knees, bowed +her face till her forehead touched the floor. Don Luis continued in the +same attitude as before. Thus, for some moments, they remained both +silent with the silence of despair. + +In a stifled voice, and without raising her face from the floor, Pepita +after a time continued: + +"Go now, Don Luis, and do not, through an insulting pity, remain any +longer at the side of so despicable a wretch as I. I shall have courage +to bear your indifference, your forgetfulness, your contempt, for I have +deserved them all. I shall always be your slave--but far from you, very +far from you, in order that nothing may recall to your memory the +infamy of this night." + +Pepita's voice, as she ended, was choked with sobs. + +Don Luis could restrain himself no longer. He arose, approached Pepita, +and, raising her in his arms from the floor, pressed her to his heart; +then, putting aside from her face the blond tresses that fell in +disorder over it, he covered it with passionate kisses. + +"Soul of my soul," he said at last, "life of my life, treasure of my +heart, light of my eyes, raise up your dejected brow, and do not +prostrate yourself any longer before me. The sinner, the vile wretch, he +who has shown himself weak of purpose, who has made himself the butt of +scorn and ridicule, is I, not you. Angels and devils alike must laugh at +me and mock me. I have clothed myself with a false sanctity. I was not +able to resist temptation, and to undeceive you in the beginning, as +would have been just, and now I am equally unable to show myself a +gentleman, a man of honor, or a tender lover who knows how to value the +favors of his mistress. I can not understand what it was you saw in me +to attract you. There never was in me any solid virtue--nothing but vain +show and the pedantry of a student who has read pious books as one reads +a novel, and on this foundation has based his foolish romance of a +future devoted to converting the heathen, and to pious meditations. If +there had been in me any solid virtue, I should have undeceived you in +time, and neither you nor I would have sinned. True virtue is not so +easily vanquished. Notwithstanding your beauty, notwithstanding your +intelligence, notwithstanding your love for me, I should not have fallen +if I had been in reality virtuous, if I had had a true vocation. God, to +whom all things are possible, would have bestowed his grace upon me. It +would have needed nothing less than a miracle, or some other +supernatural event, to have enabled me to resist your love, but God +would have wrought the miracle, and I should have been worthy of it, and +a motive sufficient for its being wrought. You are wrong to counsel me +to become a priest. I know my own unworthiness. It was only pride that +actuated me in my desire to be one. It was a worldly ambition, like any +other. What do I say--like any other? It was worse than any other; it +was a hypocritical, a sacrilegious, a simoniacal ambition." + +"Do not judge yourself so harshly," said Pepita, now more tranquil, and +smiling through her tears. "I do not want you to judge yourself thus, +not even for the purpose of making me appear less unworthy to be your +companion. No; I would have you choose me through love--freely; not to +repair a fault, not because you have fallen into the snares you perhaps +think I have perfidiously spread for you. If you do not love me, if you +distrust me, if you do not esteem me, then go. My lips shall not breathe +a single complaint, if you should abandon me forever, and never think of +me again." + +To answer this fittingly, our poor and beggarly human speech was +insufficient for Don Luis. He cut short Pepita's words by pressing his +lips to hers, and again clasping her to his heart. + + * * * * * + +Some time afterward, with much previous coughing and shuffling of the +feet, Antoñona entered the library with the words: + +"What a long talk you must have had! The sermon our student has been +preaching this time can not have been that of the _seven words_--it came +very near being that of the _forty hours_. It is time you should go now, +Don Luis; it is almost two o'clock in the morning." + +"Very well," answered Pepita, "he will go directly." + +Antoñona left the library again, and waited outside. + +Pepita was like one transformed. One might suppose that the joys she had +missed in her childhood, the happiness and contentment she had failed to +taste in her early youth, the gay activity and sprightliness that a +harsh mother and an old husband had repressed, and, as it were, crushed +within her, had suddenly burst into life in her soul, like the green +leaves of the trees, whose germination has been retarded by the snows +and frosts of a long and severe winter. + +A city-bred lady, familiar with what we call social conventionalities, +may find something strange, and even worthy of censure, in what I am +about to relate of Pepita. But Pepita, although refined by instinct, was +a being in whom every feeling was spontaneous, and in whose nature there +was no room for the affected sedateness and circumspection that are +customary in the great world. Thus it was that, seeing the obstacles +removed that had stood in the way of her happiness, and Don Luis +conquered, holding his voluntary promise that he would make her his +wife, and believing herself, with justice, to be loved, nay, worshiped +by him whom she too loved and worshiped, she danced and laughed, and +gave way to other manifestations of joy that had in them, after all, +something childlike and innocent. + +But it was necessary that Don Luis should now depart. Pepita took a comb +and smoothed his hair lovingly, and kissed him. She then rearranged his +neck-tie. + +"Farewell, lord of my life," she said, "dear sovereign of my soul. I +will tell your father everything if you fear to do. He is good, and he +will forgive us." + +At last the lovers separated. + +When Pepita found herself alone, her restless gayety disappeared, and +her countenance assumed a grave and thoughtful expression. + +Two thoughts now presented themselves to her mind, both equally serious; +the one possessing a merely mundane interest, the other an interest of a +higher nature. The first thought was that her conduct to-night--the +delirium of passion once past--might prejudice her in the opinion of Don +Luis; but, finding, after a severe examination of her conscience, that +neither premeditation nor artifice had had any part in her actions, +which were the offspring of an irresistible love, and of impulses noble +in themselves, she came to the conclusion that Don Luis could not +despise her for it, and she therefore made her mind easy on that point. +Nevertheless, although her frank confession that she was unable to +comprehend a love that was purely spiritual, and her taking refuge +afterward in the obscurity of her chamber--without foreseeing +consequences--were both the result of an impulse innocent enough in +itself, Pepita did not seek to deny in her own mind that she had sinned +against God, and on this point she could find for herself no excuse. + +She commended herself with all her heart, therefore, to the Virgin, +entreating her forgiveness. She vowed to the image of Our Lady of +Solitude, in the convent of the nuns, seven beautiful golden swords of +the finest and most elaborate workmanship, to adorn her breast, and +determined to go to confess herself on the following day to the vicar, +and to submit herself to the harshest penance he should choose to impose +upon her, in order to merit the absolution of those sins by means of +which she had vanquished the obstinacy of Don Luis, who, but for them, +would without a doubt have become a priest. + +While Pepita was engaged in these reflections, and while she was +arranging with so much discretion the affairs of her soul, Don Luis had +descended to the hall below, accompanied by Antoñona. + +Before taking his leave, Don Luis, without preface or circumlocution, +spoke thus: + +"Antoñona, tell me, you who are acquainted with everything, who is the +Count of Genazahar, and what has he had to do with your mistress? + +"You begin to be jealous very soon." + +"It is not jealousy that makes me ask this, it is simply curiosity." + +"So much the better. There is nothing more tiresome than jealousy. Well, +I will try to satisfy your curiosity. This same count has given room +enough for talk. He is a dissipated fellow, a gambler, and a man of no +principle whatever, but he has more vanity than Don Roderick on the +gallows. He made up his mind that my mistress should fall in love with +him and marry him, and, as she has refused him a thousand times, he is +mad enough to be tied. This does not prevent him, however, from keeping +in his money-chest more than a thousand dollars that Don Gumersindo lent +him years ago, without any more security than a bit of paper, through +the fault and at the entreaty of Pepita, who is better than bread. The +fool of a count thought, no doubt, that Pepita, who was so good to him +as a wife that she persuaded her husband to lend him money, would be so +much better to him as a widow that she would consent to marry him. He +was soon undeceived, however, and then he became furious." + +"Good-by, Antoñona," said Don Luis, as, now grave and thoughtful, he +left the house. + +The lights of the shops and of the booths in the fair were now +extinguished, and everybody was going home to bed, with the exception of +the owners of the toy-shops, and other poor hucksters, who slept beside +their wares in the open air. + +In some of the grated windows were still to be seen lovers, wrapped in +their cloaks, and chatting with their sweethearts. Almost every one else +had disappeared. + +Don Luis, once out of sight of Antoñona, gave a loose rein to his +thoughts. His resolution was taken, and all his reflections tended to +confirm this resolution. The sincerity and ardor of the passion with +which he had inspired Pepita; her beauty; the youthful grace of her +person, and the fresh exuberance of her soul, presented themselves to +his imagination, and rendered him happy. + +Notwithstanding this, however, he could not but reflect with mortified +vanity on the change that had been wrought in himself. What would the +dean think? How great would be the horror the bishop! And, above all, +how serious were the grounds for complaint he had given his father! The +displeasure of the latter, his anger when he should know of the bond +that bound his son to Pepita, caused him infinite disquietude. + +As for what--before he fell--he had called his fall it must be confessed +that, after he had fallen, it did not seem to him either so very serious +or so very reprehensible. His spiritual-mindedness, viewed in the light +that had just dawned upon him, he fancied to have had neither reality +nor consistency; to have been but the vain and artificial product of his +reading, of his boyish arrogance, of his aimless tenderness in the +innocent days of his college life. When he remembered that he had at +times thought himself the recipient of supernatural gifts and graces, +that he heard mystic whisperings, that his spirit held communion with +superior beings; when he remembered that he had fancied himself almost +beginning to tread the path that leads to spiritual unity, through +contemplation of the Divine, penetrating into the recesses of the soul, +and mounting up to the region of pure intelligence, he smiled to +himself, and began to suspect that during the period in question he had +not been altogether in his right mind. It had all been simply the result +of his own arrogance. He had neither done penance, nor passed long years +in meditation; he did not possess, nor had he ever possessed, sufficient +merits for God to favor him with privileges like these. The greatest +proof he could give himself of the truth of this, the greatest certainty +he could possess that the supernatural favors he had enjoyed were +spurious; mere recollections of the authors he had read, was that not +one of them had ever given him the rapture of Pepita's "I love you," or +of the soft touch of her hand caressing his dark locks. + +Don Luis had recourse to another species of Christian humility to +justify in his eyes what he now no longer called his fall, but his +change of purpose. He confessed himself unworthy to be a priest; he +reconciled himself to being a commonplace married man, a good sort of +country gentleman, like any other, taking care of his vines and olives, +and bringing up his children--for he now desired to have children--and +to being a model husband at the side of his Pepita. + + * * * * * + +Here I think myself again in the necessity--responsible as I am for the +publication and divulgation of this history--of interpolating various +reflections and explanations of my own. + +I said at the beginning of the story that I was inclined to think that +the narrative part, or _paralipomena_, was composed by the reverend dean +for the purpose of completing the story, and supplying incidents not +related in the letters; but I had not at that time read the manuscript +with attention. Now, on observing the freedom with which certain matters +are treated, and the indulgence with which certain frailties are +regarded by the author, I am compelled to ask whether the reverend dean, +with the severity of whose morals I am well acquainted, would have spent +his time in writing what we have just read. + +There are not sufficient grounds, however, for denying positively that +the reverend dean was the author of these _paralipomena_. The question, +therefore, may still be left in doubt, as in substance they contain +nothing opposed to Catholic doctrine or to Christian morality. On the +contrary, if we examine them carefully, we shall see that they contain a +lesson to pride and arrogance, in the person of Don Luis. This history +might easily serve as an appendix to the "Spiritual Disillusions" of +Father Arbiol. + +As for the opinion entertained by two or three ingenious friends of mine +that the reverend dean, if he were the author, would have used a +different style in his narration, saying "my nephew" in speaking of Don +Luis, and interposing, from time to time, moral reflections of his own, +I do not think it an argument of any great weight. The reverend dean +proposed to himself to tell what had taken place, without seeking to +prove any thesis, and he acted with judgment in narrating things as they +were, without analyzing motives or moralizing. He did not do ill, +either, in my opinion, in concealing his personality, and in avoiding +the use of the word _I_, which is a proof, not only of his humility and +modesty, but of his literary taste also, for the epic poets and +historians who should serve us as models, do not say _I_, even when +speaking of themselves, and are themselves the heroes of the events they +relate. The Athenian Xenophon, to cite an instance, does not say _I_ in +his "Anabasis" but speaks of himself in the third person, when +necessary, as if the historian of those exploits were one person, and +the hero of them another. And there are whole chapters in which no +mention at all is made of Xenophon. Only a little before the famous +battle in which the youthful Cyrus met his death, while this prince was +reviewing the Greeks and barbarians who formed his army, and when that +of his brother Artaxerxes was already near, having been descried on the +broad, treeless plain afar off, first as a little white cloud, then as a +black spot, and, finally, clearly and distinctly--the neighing of the +horses, the creaking of the war-chariots armed with formidable scythes, +the cries of the elephants and the sound of warlike instruments reaching +the ears of the spectators, and the glitter of the brass and gold of the +weapons, irradiated by the sun, striking their eyes--only at that +moment, I repeat, and not before, does Xenophon appear in his own +person; then he emerges from the ranks to speak with Cyrus, and explains +to him the cry that ran from Greek to Greek; it was no other than what +in our day we call the watchword; and on that occasion it was "_Jupiter +the Savior, and victory!_" + +The reverend dean, who was a man of taste, and very well versed in the +classics, would not be likely to fall into the error of introducing +himself into the narrative, and mixing himself up with it, under pretext +of being the uncle or tutor of the hero; and of vexing the reader by +coming out at every step a little difficult or slippery, with a "Stop +there!" or "What are you about to do?" or, "Take care you do not fall, +unhappy boy!" or other warnings of a like sort. Not to open his lips, +on the other hand, or manifest disapprobation in any way whatever, he +being present at least in spirit, would, in the case of some of the +incidents related, have been but little becoming. In view of these +facts, the reverend dean, with the discretion which was characteristic +of him, may possibly have composed the _paralipomena_, without +disclosing his identity to the reader. This much is certain, however--he +added notes and comments of an edifying and profitable character, where +such or such a passage seemed to require them. But these I have +suppressed, for the reason that notes and comments are now out of +fashion, and because this little book would be beyond measure voluminous +if it were printed with these additions. + +I shall insert here, however, in the body of the text, the comment of +the reverend dean on the rapid transformation of Don Luis from +spiritual-mindedness to the reverse, as it is curious and throws much +light on the whole matter. + +"This change of purpose of my nephew," he says, "does not disappoint me. +I foresaw it from the time he wrote me his first letters. I was deceived +in regard to Luisito in the beginning. I believed him to have a true +religious vocation; but I soon recognized the fact that his was a vain +poetic spirit. Mysticism was the form his poetic imaginings took, only +until a more adequate form presented itself. + +"Praised be God, who has willed that Luisito should be undeceived in +time! A bad priest he would have made, if Pepita Ximenez had not so +opportunely presented herself. His very impatience to attain to +perfection at a single bound would have caused me to suspect something +if I had not been blinded by the affection of an uncle. What! are the +favors of Heaven thus obtained all at once? Is it only necessary to +present one's self in order to triumph? A friend of mine, a naval +officer, used to relate that, when he was in certain cities of America, +being then very young, he sought to gain favor with the ladies with too +much precipitation, and that they would say to him in their languid +American accent: 'You have but just presented yourself, and you already +want to be loved. Do something to deserve it, if you are able.' If these +ladies answered thus, what answer will not Heaven give to those who hope +to gain it without merit, and in the twinkling of an eye? Many efforts +must be made, much purification is needed, much penance must be done, in +order to begin to stand well in the sight of God, and to enjoy his +favors. Even in those vain and false philosophies that have in them +anything of mysticism, no supernatural gift or grace is received without +a powerful effort and a costly sacrifice. Iamblichus was not given +power to evoke the genii, and cause them to emerge from the fountain of +Gadara, without first spending days and nights in study, and mortifying +the body with privations and abstinences. Apollonius of Tyana is thought +to have mortified himself finely before performing his false miracles. +And in our own day the Krausists, who behold God, as they affirm, with +corporeal vision, are forced to read and learn beforehand the whole +"Analytics" of Sanz del RÃo, which is a much harder task and a greater +proof of patience and endurance than to flagellate the body until it +looks like a ripe fig. My nephew desired, without effort or merit, to be +a perfect man, and--see how it has ended! The important thing now is +that he shall make a good husband, and that, since he is unsuited for +great things, he may be fit for smaller ones--for domestic life, and to +make Pepita happy, whose only fault, after all, is to have fallen madly +in love with him, with all the ingenuousness and violence of an untamed +creature." + + * * * * * + +Thus far the comments of the reverend dean, written with easy +familiarity, as if for himself alone; for the good man was far from +suspecting that I would play him the trick of giving them to the public. + + * * * * * + +Don Luis, in the middle of the street, at two o'clock in the morning, +was occupied with the thought, as we have said, that his life, that +until now he had dreamed might be worthy of the "Golden Legend," was +about to be converted into a sweet and perpetual idyl. He had not been +able to resist the lures of earthly passion. He had failed to imitate +the example set by so many saints, among others by St. Vincent Ferrer +with regard, to a certain dissolute lady of Valencia; though, indeed, +the cases were dissimilar. For if to flee from the diabolical courtesan +in question was an act of heroic virtue in St. Vincent, to flee from the +self-abandonment, the ingenuousness, and the humility of Pepita would, +in him, have been something as monstrous and cruel as if, when Ruth lay +down at the feet of Boaz, saying to him, "I am thy handmaid; spread +therefore thy skirt over thine handmaid," Boaz had given her a blow and +sent her about her business! Don Luis, then, when Pepita surrendered +herself to him, was obliged to follow the example of Boaz, and exclaim: +"Daughter, blessed be thou of the Lord; thou hast shewed more kindness +in the latter end than at the beginning." Thus did Don Luis justify +himself in not following the example of St. Vincent, and other saints no +less churlish. As for the ill success of the design he had entertained +of imitating St. Edward, he tried also to justify and excuse it. St. +Edward married for reasons of state, and without entertaining any +affection for Queen Edith; but in his case and in that of Pepita +Ximenez there were no reasons of state, but only a tender love on both +sides. + +Don Luis, however, did not deny to himself--and this imparted to his +present happiness a slight tinge of melancholy--that he had proved false +to his ideal; that he had been vanquished in the conflict. Those who +have no ideal, who have never had an ideal, would not distress +themselves on this account. Don Luis did distress himself; but he +presently came to the conclusion that he would substitute a more humble +and easily attained ideal for his former exalted one. And although the +recollection of Don Quixote's resolution to turn shepherd, on being +vanquished by the Knight of the White Moon, here crossed his mind with +ludicrous appositeness, he was in no way daunted by it. He thought, in +union with Pepita Ximenez, to renew, in our prosaic and unbelieving +time, the golden age, and to repeat the pious example of Philemon and +Baucis, creating: a model of patriarchal life in these pleasant fields, +founding in the place where he was born a home presided over by +religion, that should be at once the asylum of the needy, the center of +culture and friendly conviviality, and the clear mirror in which the +domestic virtues should be reflected; joining in one, finally, conjugal +love and the love of God, in order that God might sanctify and be +present in their dwelling, making it the temple in which both should be +his ministers, until, by the will of Heaven, they should be called to a +better life. + +Two obstacles must first be removed, however, before all this could be +realized, and Don Luis began to consider with himself how he might best +remove them. + +The one was the displeasure, perhaps the anger, of his father, whom he +had defrauded of his dearest hopes. The other was of a very different +and, in a certain sense, of a much more serious character. Don Luis, +while he entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was right in +defending Pepita from the gross insults of the Count of Genazahar by the +weapons of argument only, and in taking no vengeance for the scorn and +contempt with which those arguments were listened to. But, having now +determined to lay aside the cassock, and obliged, as he was, to declare +immediately that he was betrothed to Pepita and was going to marry her, +Don Luis, notwithstanding his peaceable disposition, his dreams of human +brotherhood, and his religious belief, all of which remained intact in +his soul, and all of which were alike opposed to violent measures, could +not succeed in reconciling it with his dignity to refrain from breaking +the head of the insolent count. He knew well that dueling is a barbarous +practice; that Pepita had no need of the blood of the count to wash +from her name the stain of calumny; and even that the count himself had +uttered the insults he had uttered, not because he believed them, nor +perhaps through an excess of hatred, but through stupidity and want of +breeding. Notwithstanding all these reflections, however, Don Luis was +conscious that he would never again be able to respect himself, and, as +a consequence, would never be able to perform to his taste the _rôle_ of +Philemon, if he did not begin with that of Furabras, by giving the count +his deserts; asking God, meantime, never again to place him in a similar +position. + +This matter, then, being decided upon, he resolved to bring it to an end +as soon as possible. And as it appeared to him that it would be +inexpedient, as well as in bad taste, to arrange the affair through +seconds, and thus make the honor of Pepita a subject of common talk, he +determined to provoke a quarrel with the count under some other pretext. + +Thinking that the count, being a stranger in the village and a confirmed +gambler, might possibly be still engaged at play in the club-house, +notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Don Luis went straight there. + +The club-house was still open, but, both in the court-yard and the +parlors, the lights were nearly all extinguished. In one apartment only +was there still a light. Thither Don Luis directed his steps, and, on +reaching it, he saw through the open door the Count of Genazahar engaged +in playing _monte_, in which he acted as banker. Only five other persons +were playing; two were strangers like the count; the others were the +captain of cavalry in charge of the remount, Currito, and the doctor. +Things could not have been better arranged to suit the purpose of Don +Luis. So engrossed were the players in their game that they did not +observe him, who, as soon as he saw the count, left the club-house and +went rapidly homeward. + +On reaching his house the door was opened for him by a servant. Don Luis +inquired for his father, and, finding that he was asleep, procured a +light and went up to his own room, taking care to make no noise lest he +should disturb him. There he took some three thousand reals in gold that +he had laid by, and put them in his pocket. He then called the servant +to open the door for him again, and returned to the club-house. + +Arrived there, Don Luis entered the parlor in which the players were, +walking noisily, and giving himself the airs of a fop. The players were +struck with amazement at seeing him. + +"You here, at this hour!" said Currito. + +"Where do you come from, little priest?" said the doctor. + +"Have you come to preach me another sermon?" cried the count. + +"I have done with sermons," returned Don Luis, calmly. "The bad success +of the last one I preached has clearly convinced me that God does not +call me to that path in life, and I have chosen another. You, count, +have wrought my conversion. I have thrown aside the cassock. I wish to +amuse myself; I am in the flower of my youth, and I want to enjoy it." + +"Come, I am glad of that," returned the count; "but take care, my lad, +for, if the flower be a delicate one, it may wither and drop its leaves +before their time." + +"I shall take care of that," returned Don Luis. "I see you are playing; +I feel inspired. You are dealing. Do you know, count, that it would be +amusing if I should break your bank?" + +"You think it would be amusing, eh? You have been dining liberally!" + +"I have dined as I choose to dine." + +"The youngster is learning to answer back." + +"I learn what it is my pleasure to learn." + +"Damnation!" cried the count, and the storm was about to burst, when the +captain, interposing, succeeded in re-establishing the peace. + +"Come," said the count, when he had recovered his temper, "out with your +cash, and try your luck." + +Don Luis seated himself at the table, and took out all his gold. At +sight of it the count regained his serenity completely, for it must have +exceeded in amount the sum he had in the bank, and he already pleased +himself in anticipation with the thought of winning it. + +"There is no need to cudgel one's brains much in this game," said Don +Luis to the count; "I think I understand it already. I put money on a +card, and if the card turns up, I win; and if the card opposed to it +turns up, you win." + +"Just so, my young friend; you have a strong understanding." + +"And the best of it is that I have not only a strong understanding, but +a strong will as well. But, though I may have the stubbornness of the +donkey, I am not the complete donkey that many a one I know of is." + +"What a witty mood you are in to-night, and how anxious you are to +display your wit!" + +Don Luis was silent. He played a few times, and was so lucky as to win +each time. + +The count began to be annoyed. + +"What if the youngster should pluck me?" he said to himself. "Fortune +favors the innocent." + +While the count was troubling himself with this reflection, Don Luis, +feeling fatigued, and weary now of the part he was playing, determined +to end the matter at once. + +"The object of all this," he said, "is to see if I can win all your +gold, or if you can win mine. Is it not so, count?" + +"Just so." + +"Well, then, why should we remain here all night? It is getting late, +and, according to your advice, I ought to retire early, so that the +flower of my youth may not wither before its time." + +"How is this? Do you want to go away already? Do you want to back out?" + +"I have not the slightest desire to back out. Quite the +contrary.--Currito, tell me, in this heap of gold here, is there not +already more than there is in the bank?" + +Currito looked at the gold and answered: + +"Without a doubt." + +"How shall I explain," asked Don Luis, "that I wish to stake on one card +all that I have here, against what there is in the bank?" + +"You do that," responded Currito, "by saying, 'I play _banco!_'" + +"Well, then, I play _banco_," said Don Luis, addressing himself to the +count; "I play _banco_ on this king of spades, whose companion will to a +certainty turn up before his opponent the three does." + +The count, whose whole cash capital was in the bank, began to be alarmed +at the risk he ran; but there was nothing for it but to accept. + +It is a common saying that those who are fortunate in love are +unfortunate at play but the reverse of this is often more nearly the +truth. He who is fortunate in one thing is apt to be fortunate in +everything; it is the same when one is unfortunate. + +The count continued to draw cards, but no _three_ turned up. His +emotion, notwithstanding his efforts to conceal it, was great. Finally, +he came to a card which he knew by the lines at the top to be the king +of hearts, and paused. + +"Draw," said the captain. + +"It is no use! The king of hearts! Curses on it! The little priest has +plucked me. Take up your money." + +The count threw the cards angrily on the table. + +Don Luis took up the money calmly, and with apparent indifference. + +After a short silence the count said: + +"My little priest, you must give me my revenge." + +"I see no such necessity." + +"It seems to me that between gentlemen--" + +"According to that rule the game would have no end," said Don Luis, "and +it would be better to save one's self the trouble of playing +altogether." + +"Give me my revenge," replied the count, without paying any attention to +this argument. + +"Be it so," returned Don Luis; "I wish to be generous." + +The count took up the cards again, and proceeded to deal. + +"Stop a moment," said Don Luis; "let us understand each other. Where is +the money for your new bank?" + +The count showed signs of confusion and disturbance. + +"I have no money here," he returned, "but it seems to me that my word is +more than enough." + +Don Luis answered, with grave and measured accent: + +"Count, I should be quite willing to trust the word of a gentleman, and +allow him to remain in my debt, if it were not that in doing so I should +fear to lose your friendship, which I am now in a fair way to gain; but, +as I was a witness this morning to the cruelty with which you treated +certain friends of mine, to whom you are indebted, I do not wish to run +the risk of becoming culpable in your eyes by means of the same fault. +How ridiculous to suppose that I should voluntarily incur your enmity by +lending you money which you would not repay me, as you have not repaid, +except with insults, that which you owe Pepita Ximenez!" + +From the fact that this accusation was true, the offense was all the +greater. The count became livid with anger, and, by this time on his +feet, ready to come to blows with the collegian. + +"You lie, slanderer!" he exclaimed. "I shall tear you limb from limb, +you----" + +This last insult, which concerned the honor of her whose memory was most +sacred to him, was never finished; its end never reached his ears. For, +with marvelous quickness, dexterity, and force, he reached across the +table which was between himself and the count, and, with the light, +flexible bamboo cane with which he had armed himself, struck his +antagonist on the face, raising on it instantly a dark purple welt. + +There was neither retort, outcry, nor uproar after this. When the hands +come into play, the tongue is apt to be silent. The count was about to +throw himself on Don Luis, for the purpose of tearing him to pieces, if +it were in his power. But opinion had changed greatly since yesterday +morning, and was now on the side of Don Luis. The captain, the doctor, +and even Currito, who now showed more courage than he had done on that +occasion, all held back the count, who struggled and fought ferociously +to release himself. + +"Let me go!" he cried; "let me get at him and kill him!" + +"I do not seek to prevent a duel," said the captain; "a duel is +inevitable. I only seek to prevent your fighting here, like two porters. +I should be wanting in self-respect if I consented to be present at +such a combat." + +"Let weapons be brought!" said the count; "I do not wish to defer the +affair for a single moment. At once--and here!" + +"Will you fight with sabers?" said the captain. + +"Yes," responded Don Luis. + +"Sabers be it," said the count. + +All this was said in a low voice, so that nothing might be heard in the +street. Even the servants of the club-house, who slept on chairs in the +kitchen and in the yard, were not awakened by the noise. + +Don Luis chose as his seconds the captain and Currito; the count chose +the two strangers. The doctor made ready to practice his art, and show +the signal of the Red Cross. + +It was not yet daylight. It was agreed that the apartment in which they +were, should be the field of combat, the door being first closed. The +captain went to his house for the sabers, and returned soon afterward, +carrying them under the cloak which he had put on for the purpose of +concealing them from view. + +We already know that Don Luis had never wielded a weapon in his life. +Fortunately the count, although he had never studied theology, or +entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was not much more skilled +than he in the art of handling the broadsword. + +The only roles laid down for the duel were that, their sabers once in +hand, each of the combatants should use his weapon as Heaven might best +direct him. + +The door of the apartment was closed. The tables and chairs were placed +in a corner, to leave a free field for the combatants, and the lights +were suitably disposed. + +Don Luis and the count divested themselves of their coats and +waistcoats, remaining in their shirt-sleeves, and selected, each one, +his weapon. The seconds stood on one side. At a signal from the captain, +the combat began. Between two persons who know neither how to parry a +stroke nor how to put themselves on guard, a combat must of necessity be +brief; and such this one was. + +The fury of the count, restrained for some time past, now burst forth +and blinded his reason. He was strong, and he had wrists of steel; and +he showered down on Don Luis, with his saber, a rain of blows without +order or sequence. Four times he succeeded in touching Don Luis--each +time, fortunately, with the flat of his weapon. He bruised his +shoulders, but did not wound him. The young theologian had need of all +his strength to keep from falling to the floor, overcome by the force of +the blows and the pain of his bruises. A fifth time the count struck +Don Luis, and this time with the edge of his weapon, although sidewise. +The blood of Don Luis began to flow abundantly. Far from stopping, the +count resumed the attack with renewed fury, in the hope of again +wounding his antagonist. He almost placed himself under the weapon of +Don Luis. The latter, instead of putting himself in position to parry, +brought his sword down vigorously on his adversary, and succeeded in +wounding the count in the head. The blood gushed forth, and ran down his +forehead and into his eyes. Stunned by the blow, the count fell heavily +to the floor. + +The whole combat was a matter of a few seconds. Don Luis had remained +tranquil throughout, like a Stoic philosopher, who is obliged by the +hard law of necessity to take part in a conflict opposed alike to his +habits and his ways of thought. But no sooner did he see his antagonist +extended on the floor, bathed in blood and looking as though he were +dead, than he experienced the most poignant anguish, and feared for a +moment that he should faint. He who, until within the last five or six +hours, had held unwaveringly to his resolution of being a priest, a +missionary, a minister and a messenger of the gospel, had committed, or +accused himself of having committed, during those few hours, every +crime, and of breaking all the commandments of God. There was now no +mortal sin by which he was not contaminated. First, his purpose of +leading a life of perfect and heroic holiness had been put to flight; +then followed his purpose of leading a life of holiness of a more easy, +comfortable, and _bourgeois_ sort. The devil seemed to please himself in +over-throwing his plans. He reflected that he could now no longer be +even a Christian Philemon, for to lay his neighbor's head open with a +stroke of a saber was not a very good beginning of his idyl. + +Don Luis, after the agitations of the day, was now in a condition +resembling that of a man who has brain-fever. Currito and the captain, +one at each side, took hold of him and led him home. + + * * * * * + +Don Pedro de Vargas got out of bed in terror when he was told that his +son had come home wounded. He ran to see him, examined his bruises and +the wound in his arm, and saw that they were none of them attended with +danger; but he broke out into threats of vengeance, and would not be +pacified until he was made acquainted with the particulars of the +affair, and learned that Don Luis had known how to avenge himself in +spite of his theology. + +The doctor came soon after to examine the wound, and was of opinion that +in three or four days' time Don Luis would be able to go out again, as +if nothing had happened. With the count, on the other hand, it would be +a matter of months. His life, however, was in no danger. He had returned +to consciousness, and had asked to be taken to his own village, which +was distant only a league from the village which these events took +place. A hired coach had been procured, and he had been taken thither, +accompanied by his servant, and the two strangers who had acted as his +seconds. + +Four days after the affair the doctor's opinion was justified by the +result, and Don Luis, although sore from his bruises, and with his wound +still open, was in a condition to go out, and promised a complete +recovery within a short time. + +The first duty which Don Luis thought himself obliged to fulfill, as +soon as he was off the sick-list, was to confess to his father his love +for Pepita, and his intention of marrying her. + +Don Pedro had not gone to the country, nor had he occupied himself in +any other way than in taking care of his son during the sickness of the +latter. He was constantly at his side, waiting on him and petting him +with tender affection. + +On the morning of the 27th of June, after the doctor had gone, Don Pedro +being alone with his son, the confession, so difficult for Don Luis to +make, took place in the following manner: + +"Father," said Don Luis, "I ought not to deceive you any longer. To-day +I am going to confess my faults to you, and cast away hypocrisy." + +"If it is a confession you are about to make, my boy, it would be better +for you to send for the reverend vicar. My standard of morality is an +indulgent one, and I shall give you absolution for everything, without +my absolution being of much value to you, however. But if you wish to +confide to me some weighty secret, as to your best friend, begin by all +means; I am ready to listen to you." + +"What I am about to confess to you is a very serious fault of which I +have been guilty; and I am ashamed to--" + +"You have no need to be ashamed before your father; speak frankly." + +Here Don Luis, growing very red, and with visible confusion, said: + +"My secret is, that I am in love with--Pepita Ximenez--and that she--" + +Don Pedro interrupted his son with a burst of laughter, and finished the +sentence for him: + +"And that she is in love with you, and that on the night of St. John's +eve you were with her in tender conference until two o'clock in the +morning, and that, for her sake, you sought a quarrel with the Count of +Genazahar, whose head you have broken. A pretty secret you confide to +me, truly! There isn't a cat or a dog in the village that is not fully +acquainted with every detail of the business. The only thing there +seemed a possibility of being able to conceal was, that your interview +lasted until just two o'clock in the morning; but some gypsy cake-women +chanced to see you leave Pepita's house, and did not stop until they had +told every living creature in the place of it. Pepita, besides, makes no +great effort to conceal the truth, and in this she does well, for that +would be only the concealment of Antequera. Since you have been wounded, +Pepita comes here twice a day, and sends Antoñona two or three times +more to inquire after you; and if they have not come in to see you, it +is because I would not consent to their doing so, lest it should excite +you." + +The confusion and the distress of Don Luis reached their climax when he +heard his father thus compendiously tell the whole story. + +"How surprised," he said, "how astounded you must have been!" + +"No, my boy, I was neither surprised nor astounded. The matter has been +known in the village only for four days, and indeed, to tell the truth, +your transformation did create some surprise. 'Oh, the sly-boots! the +wolf in sheep's clothing! the hypocrite!' every one exclaimed, 'how we +have been deceived in him!' The reverend vicar, above all, is quite +bewildered. He is still crossing himself to think how you toiled in the +vineyard of the Lord on the night of the 23d and the morning of the +24th, and of how diverse a character were your labors. But there was +nothing in these occurrences to surprise me, except your wound. We old +people can feel the grass grow. It is not easy for the chickens to +deceive the huckster." + +"It is true, I sought to deceive you! I have been a hypocrite!" + +"Don't be a fool; I do not say this to blame you. I say it in order to +give myself an air of perspicacity. But let us speak with frankness. My +boasting is, after all, without foundation. I knew, step by step, for +more than two months past, the progress of your love-affair with Pepita; +but I know it because your uncle the dean, to whom you were writing all +that passed within your mind, has communicated it to me. Listen to your +uncle's letter of accusation, and to the answer I gave him, a very +important document, of which I have kept the copy." + +Don Pedro took some papers from his pocket, and read as follows: + + * * * * * + + _The Dean's Letter._ + +"MY DEAR BROTHER: It grieves me to the heart to be obliged to give you a +piece of bad news; but I trust that God will grant you patience and +endurance to enable you to hear it without feeling too much anger or +bitterness. Luisito has been writing me strange letters for some days +past, in which he reveals, in the midst of his mystical exaltation, an +inclination, earthly and sinful enough, toward a certain widow, +charming, mischievous, and coquettish, who lives in your village. Up to +the present I had deceived myself, believing Luisito's vocation to be a +true one; and I flattered myself with giving to the Church of God, in +him, a wise, virtuous, and exemplary priest. But his letters have +dispelled my illusions. Luisito shows himself, in them, to have more of +poetry than of true piety in his nature; and the widow, who must be a +limb of Satan, will be able to vanquish him with but a very slight +effort. Although I write to Luisito admonishing him to flee from +temptation, I am already certain that he will fall into it. This ought +not to grieve me; for, if he is to be false to his vocation, to indulge +in gallantries, and to make love, it is better that this evil +disposition should reveal itself in time, and that he should not become +a priest. I should not, therefore, see any serious objection to +Luisito's remaining with you, for the purpose of being tested by the +touchstone and analyzed in the crucible of such a love, making the +little widow the agent by whose means might be discovered how great is +the quantity of the pure gold of his clerical virtues, and how much +alloy is mixed with that gold, were it not that we are met by the +difficulty that the widow whom we would thus convert into a faithful +assayer, is the object of your own addresses, and, it may be, your +sweetheart. That your son should turn out to be your rival would be too +serious a matter. This would be a monstrous scandal, and, to avoid it in +time, I write to you to-day to the end that, under whatever pretext, you +may send or bring Luisito here--the sooner the better." + +Don Luis listened in silence, and with his eyes cast down. His father +continued: + +"To this letter of the dean I answered as follows: + + * * * * * + + _Don Pedro's Answer._ + +"DEAR BROTHER AND VENERABLE SPIRITUAL FATHER: I return you a thousand +thanks for the news you send me, and for your counsel and advice. +Although I flatter myself with not being wanting in shrewdness, I +confess my stupidity on this occasion; I was blinded by vanity. Pepita +Ximenez, from the time that my son arrived here, manifested toward me so +much amiability and affection that I began to indulge in pleasing hopes +on my own account. Your letter was necessary to undeceive me. I now +understand that in making herself so sociable, in showing me so many +attentions, and in dancing attendance on me, as she did, this cunning +Pepita had in her mind only the father of the smooth-faced theologian. I +shall not attempt to conceal from you that, for the moment, this +disappointment mortified and distressed me a little; but, when I +reflected over it with due consideration, my mortification and my +distress were converted into joy. Luis is an excellent boy. Since he has +been with me, I have learned to regard him with much greater affection +than formerly. I parted from him, and gave him up to you to educate, +because my own life was not very exemplary, and, for this and other +reasons, he would have grown up here a savage. You went beyond my hopes +and even my desires, and almost made of Luisito a father of the Church. +To have a holy son would have flattered my vanity; but I should have +been very sorry to remain without an heir to my house and name, who +would give me handsome grandchildren, and who, after my death, would +enjoy my wealth, which is my glory, for I acquired it by skill and +industry, and not by artifices and tricks. Perhaps the conviction I had +that there was no remedy, and that Luis would inevitably go to convert +the Chinese, the Indians, and the blacks of Monicongo made me resolve on +marrying, so as to provide myself with an heir. Naturally enough, I cast +my eyes on Pepita Ximenez, who is not, as you imagine, a limb of Satan, +but a lovely creature, as innocent as an angel, and ardent in her +nature, rather than coquettish. I have so good an opinion of Pepita +that, if she were again sixteen, with a domineering mother who +tyrannized over her, and if I were eighty, like Don Gumersindo, that is +to say, if death were already knocking at the door, I would marry +Pepita, that her smile might cheer me on my death-bed, as if my guardian +angel had taken human shape in her; and for the purpose of leaving her +my position, my fortune, and my name. But Pepita is not sixteen, but +twenty, nor is she now in the power of that serpent, her mother; nor am +I eighty, but fifty-five. I am at the very worst age, because I begin to +feel myself considerably the worse for wear, with something of asthma, a +good deal of cough, rheumatic pains, and other chronic ailments; yet the +devil a wish have I to die, notwithstanding! I believe I shall not die +for twenty years to come, and, as I am thirty-five years older than +Pepita, you may calculate the miserable future that would await her, +tied to an old man who would live forever. At the end of a few years of +marriage she would be compelled to hate me, notwithstanding her +goodness. Doubtless it is because she is good and wise, that she has not +chosen to accept me for a husband, notwithstanding the perseverance and +the obstinacy with which I have proposed it to her. How much do I not +thank her for this now! Even my self-love, wounded by her scorn, is +soothed by the reflection that, if she does not love me, at least she +loves one of my blood; she is captivated by a son of mine. If this fresh +and luxuriant ivy, I say to myself, refuses to twine around the old +trunk, worm-eaten already, it climbs by it to reach the new sprout it +has put forth--a green and flourishing offshoot. May God bless them +both, and make their love prosper! Far from taking the boy to you again, +I shall keep him here--by force, if it be necessary. I have determined +to conspire against his vocation. I dream already of seeing him married. +I shall grow young again, contemplating the handsome pair, joined +together by love. And how will it be when they shall have given me a +couple of grandchildren? Instead of going as a missionary, and bringing +back to me from Australia, or Madagascar, or India, neophytes black as +soot, with lips the size of your hand, or yellow as deer-skin, and with +eyes like owls, would it not be better for Luisito to preach the gospel +in his own house, and to give me a series of little catechumens, fair, +rosy, with eyes like those of Pepita, who will resemble cherubim without +wings? The catechumens he would bring me from those foreign lands I +should have to keep at a respectful distance, in order not to be +overpowered by their odor; while those I speak of would seem to me like +roses of paradise, and would come to climb up on my knees, and would +call me grand-papa, and pat with their little hands the bald spot I am +beginning to get. What would you have? When I was in all my vigor, I did +not think of domestic joys; but now, that I am approaching old age, if I +have not already entered on it, as I have no intention of turning monk, +I please myself in thinking that I shall play the _rôle_ of patriarch. +And do not imagine, either, that I am going to leave it to time to bring +to a happy close this incipient engagement. No! I shall myself set to +work to do this. Continuing your comparison, since you transform Pepita +into a crucible, and Luis into a metal, I shall find, or rather I have +found already, a bellows, or blow-pipe, very well adapted to kindle up +the fire, so that the metal may melt in it the more quickly. Antoñona +has an understanding with me already, and through her I know that Pepita +is over head and ears in love. We have agreed that I shall continue to +seem blind to everything, and to know nothing of what passes. The +reverend vicar, who is a simple soul, always in the clouds, helps me as +much as Antoñona does, or more, and without knowing it, because he +repeats to Pepita everything Luis says to him, and everything Pepita +says to him to Luis; so that this excellent man, with the weight of +half a century in each foot, has been converted--O miracle of love and +of innocence!--into a carrier-dove by which the two lovers send each +other their flatteries and endearments, while they are as ignorant as he +is of the fact. So powerful a combination of natural and artificial +methods ought to give an infallible result. You will be made acquainted +with this result when I give you notice of the wedding, so that you may +come to perform the ceremony, or else send the lovers your blessing and +a handsome present." + + * * * * * + +With these words Don Pedro finished the reading of his letter; and, on +looking again at Don Luis, he saw that he had been listening to him with +his eyes full of tears. + +Father and son gave each other a long and close embrace. + + * * * * * + +Just a month from the date of this interview, the wedding of Don Luis de +Vargas and Pepita Ximenez took place. + +The reverend dean--fearing the ridicule of his brother at the +spiritual-mindedness of Don Luis having thus come to naught, and +recognizing also that he would not play a very dignified _rôle_ in the +village, where every one would say he had a poor knack at turning out +saints--declined to be present, giving his occupations as an excuse; +although he sent his blessing, and a magnificent pair of ear-rings as a +present for Pepita. + +The reverend vicar, therefore, had the pleasure of marrying her to Don +Luis. + +The bride, elegantly attired, was thought lovely by every one, and was +looked upon as a good exchange for the hair shirt and the scourge. + +That night Don Pedro gave a magnificent ball in the court-yard of his +house and the contiguous apartments. Servants and gentlemen, nobles and +laborers, ladies and country-girls were present, and mingled together, +as if it were the ideal golden age--though why called golden I know not. +Four skillful, or if not skillful at least indefatigable guitar-players +played a _fandango_. Two gypsies, a man and a woman, both famous +singers, sang verses of a tender character and appropriate to the +occasion; and the school-master read epithalamium in heroic verse. + +There were tarts, fritters, jumbles, ginger-bread, sponge-cake, and wine +in abundance for the common people. The gentry regaled themselves selves +with liquors, chocolate, orange cordial, honey, and various kinds of +aromatic and delicate punches. + +Don Pedro was like a boy--sprightly, gallant, and full of jests. It did +not look as if there were much truth in what he had said in his letter +to the dean in regard to his rheumatism and other ailments. He danced +the _fandango_ with Pepita, as also with the most attractive among her +maids and with six or seven of the village girls. He gave each of them, +on reconducting her, tired out, to her seat, the prescribed embrace, and +to the least serious of them a couple of pinches, though this latter +forms no part of the ceremonial. He carried his gallantry to the extreme +of dancing with Doña Casilda, who could not refuse him; who, with her +two hundred and fifty pounds of humanity, and the heat of July, +perspired at every pore. Finally, Don Pedro stuffed Currito so full, and +made him drink so often to the health of the newly married pair, that +the muleteer Dientes was obliged to carry him home to sleep off the +effect of his excesses, slung like a skin of wine across the back of an +ass! + +The ball lasted until three in the morning; but the young couple +discreetly disappeared before eleven, and retired to the house of +Pepita. There Don Luis re-entered, with light, pomp, and majesty, and as +adored lord and master, the room which, little more than a month before, +he had entered in darkness, and filled with terror and confusion. + +Although it is the unfailing use and custom of the village to treat +every widow or widower who marries again to a terrible _charivari_, +leaving them not a moment's rest from the cow-bells during the first +night after marriage, Pepita was such a favorite, Don Pedro was so much +respected, and Don Luis was so beloved, that there were no bells on this +occasion, nor was there the least attempt made at ringing them--a +singular circumstance, which is recorded as such in the annals of the +village. + + + + +EPILOGUE. + +LETTERS OF MY BROTHER + + +The history of Pepita and Luisito should, properly speaking, end here. +This epilogue is not necessary to the story; but, as it formed part of +the bundle of papers left at his death by the reverend dean, although we +refrain from publishing it entire, we shall at least give a sample of +it. + +No one can entertain the least doubt that Don Luis and Pepita, united by +an irresistible love, almost of the same age, she beautiful, he brave +and handsome, both intelligent and full of goodness, would enjoy during +a long life as much peace and happiness as falls to the lot of mortals. +And this supposition, which, for those who have read the preceding +narrative, is a logically drawn deduction from it, is converted into a +certainty for him who reads the epilogue. + +The epilogue gives, besides, some information respecting the secondary +personages of the narrative, in whose fate the reader may possibly be +interested. It consists of a collection of letters addressed by Don +Pedro de Vargas to his brother the dean, dating from the day of his +son's marriage to four years later. + +Without prefixing to them the dates, although following their +chronological order, we shall transcribe here a few short extracts from +these letters, and thus bring our task to an end: + + * * * * * + +Luis manifests the most lively gratitude toward Antoñona, without whose +services he would not now possess Pepita. But this woman, the accomplice +of the sole fault of which either he or Pepita had been guilty in their +lives, living as she did on the most familiar footing in the house, and +fully acquainted with all that had taken place, could not but be in the +way. To get rid of her, then, and at the same time to do her a service, +Luis set to work to bring about a reconciliation between her and her +husband, whose daily fits of drunkenness she had refused to put up with. +The son of Master Cencias gave his promise that he would get drunk +_hardly ever_; but he would not venture on an absolute and +uncompromising _never_. Confiding in this half-promise, however, +Antoñona consented to return to the conjugal roof. Husband and wife +being thus reunited, it occurred to Luis that a homeopathic principle of +treatment might prove efficacious with the son of Master Cencias, in +curing him radically of his vice; for, having heard it affirmed that +confectioners detest sweets, he concluded that, on the same principle, +tavern-keepers ought to detest whisky; and he sent Antoñona and her +husband to the capital of the province, where, at his own cost, he set +them up in a fine tavern. Both live there together happily; they have +succeeded in obtaining many patrons, and will probably become rich. He +still gets drunk occasionally; but Antoñona, who is the stronger of the +two, is accustomed at such times to give him a good trouncing, to help +on his cure. + + * * * * * + +Currito, anxious to imitate his cousin, whom he admires more and more +every day, and seeing and enjoying the domestic felicity of Pepita and +Luis, has looked up a sweetheart in haste, and married the daughter of a +rich farmer of the place, health, fresh, red as a poppy, and who +promises soon to acquire proportions as ample as those of her +mother-in-law Casilda. + + * * * * * + +The Count of Genazahar, after being confined to his bed for five months, +is now cured of his wound, and, according to what they say, is very much +improved in respect to his manners. He paid Pepita, a short time ago, +more than half of his debt to her, and asks for a respite in the payment +of the remainder. + + * * * * * + +We have had a very great grief, although one that we had foreseen for +some time past. The father vicar, yielding to the advance of years, has +passed to a better life. Pepita remained to the last at his bedside, and +closed his eyes with her own beautiful hands. The father vicar died the +death of a blessed servant of the Lord. Rather than death, it seemed a +happy transit to serener regions. Nevertheless, Pepita and all of us +have mourned him sincerely. He has left behind him only a few dollars +and his furniture, for he gave all he had in alms. His death would have +made orphans of the poor of the village, if it were not that Pepita +still lives. + + * * * * * + +Every one in the village laments the death of the reverend vicar; and +there are many who regard him as a real saint, worthy of religious +honors, and who attribute miracles to him. I know not how that may be, +but I do know that he was an excellent man, and that he must have gone +straight to heaven, where we may hope to have in him an intercessor. +With all this, his humility, his modesty, and his fear of God were such +that he spoke of his sins in the hour of death, as if he had in reality +committed any, and he besought our prayers to the Lord and to the Virgin +Mary for their forgiveness. + +A strong impression has been produced on the mind of Luis by the +exemplary life and death of this man. He was simple, it must be +confessed, and of limited intelligence, but of upright will, ardent, +faith, and fervent charity. When Luis compares himself with the vicar, +he feels humiliated. This has infused into his soul a certain bitter +melancholy; but Pepita, who has a great deal of tact, dissipates it with +smiles and caresses. + + * * * * * + +Everything prospers with us. Luis and I have some wine-vaults than which +there are no better in Spain, if we except those of Xeres. The +olive-crop of this year has been superb. We can afford to allow +ourselves every species of luxury; and I counsel Luis and Pepita to make +the tour of Germany, France, and Italy, as soon as Pepita is over her +trouble, and once more in her usual health. The children may, without +improvidence or folly, throw away a few thousands of dollars on the +expedition, and bring back many fine books, pieces of furniture, and +objects of art, to adorn their dwelling. + +We have deferred the baptism for two weeks, in order that it may take +place on the first anniversary of the wedding. The child is a marvel of +beauty, and is very healthy. I am the godfather, and he has been named +after me. I am already dreaming of the time when Periquito shall begin +to talk, and amuse us with his prattle. + +In order that nothing may be wanting to the prosperity of this tender +pair, it turns out now, according to letters received from Havana, that +the brother of Pepita, whose evil ways we feared might disgrace the +family, is almost--and indeed without an _almost_--about to honor and +elevate it by becoming a person of eminence. During all the time in +which we heard nothing from him, he has been profiting by his +opportunities, and fortune has sent him favoring gales. He obtained +another employment in the custom-house; then he trafficked in negroes; +then he failed--an occurrence which for certain business men is like a +good pruning for trees, making them sprout again with fresh vigor--and +now he is so prosperous that he has formed the resolution of entering +the highest circles of the aristocracy, under the title of marquis or +duke. Pepita is frightened and troubled at this unexpected turn of +fortune, but I tell her not to be foolish: if her brother is, and must +in any case be, a rascal, is it not better that he should at least be a +fortunate one? + + * * * * * + +We might thus go on making extracts did we not fear to weary the reader. +We shall end, then, by copying a few passages from one of the latest +letters: + + * * * * * + +My children have returned from their travels in good health. Periquito +is very mischievous and very charming. Luis and Pepita come back +resolved never again to leave the village, though their lives should be +longer than were those of Philemon and Baucis. They are more in love +with each other than ever. + +They have brought back with them articles of furniture, a great many +books, some pictures, and I know not how many other elegant trifles, +purchased in the countries through which they have traveled, and +principally in Paris, Rome, Florence, and Vienna. + +The affection they entertain for each other, and the tenderness and +cordiality with which they treat each other and every one else, have +exercised a beneficent influence on manners here; and the elegance and +good taste with which they are now completing the furnishing of their +house will go far to make exterior culture take root and spread. + +The people in Madrid say that in the country we are stupid and uncouth; +but they remain where they are, and never take the trouble to come and +reform our manners. On the contrary, no sooner does any one make his +appearance in the country who knows or is worth anything, or who thinks +he knows or is worth anything, than he makes every possible effort to +get away from it, and leaves the fields and provincial towns behind him. +Pepita and Luis pursue the opposite course, and I commend them for it +with my whole heart. They are gradually improving and beautifying their +surroundings, so as to make out of this secluded spot a paradise. + +Do not imagine, however, that the inclination of Pepita and Luis for +material well-being has cooled in the slightest degree their religious +feelings. The piety of both grows deeper every day; and in each new +pleasure or satisfaction which they enjoy, or which they can procure for +their fellow-beings, they see a new benefaction of Heaven, in which they +recognize fresh cause for gratitude. More than this, no pleasure or +satisfaction would be such, none would be of any worth, or substance, or +value in their eyes, were it not for the thought of higher things, and +for the firm belief they have in them. + +Luis, in the midst of his present happiness, never forgets the +dethronement of the ideal he had set up for himself. There are times +when his present life seems to him vulgar, selfish, and prosaic, +compared with the life of sacrifice, with the spiritual existence to +which he believed himself called in the first years of his youth. But +Pepita hastens, solicitous, to dispel his melancholy on such occasions; +and then Luis comprehends and acknowledges that it is possible for man +to serve God in every state and condition, and succeeds in reconciling +the lively faith and the love of God that fill his soul, with this +legitimate love of the earthly and perishable. But in the earthly and +perishable he beholds the divine principle, as it were, without which, +neither in the stars that stud the heavens, nor in the flowers and +fruits that beautify the fields, nor in the eyes of Pepita, nor in the +innocence and beauty of Periquito, would he behold anything lovely. The +greater world, all this magnificent fabric of the universe, he declares, +would without its all-seeing God seem to him sublime indeed, but without +order, or beauty, or purpose. And as for the lesser world, as we are +accustomed to call man, neither would he love it were it not for God; +and this, not because God commands him to love it, but because the +dignity of man, and his title to be loved, have their foundation in God +himself, who not only made the soul of man in his own likeness, but +ennobled also his body, making it the living temple of the Spirit, +holding communion with it by means of the sacrament, and exalting it to +the extreme of uniting with it his uncreate Word. In these and other +arguments, which I am unable to set forth here, Luis finds consolation. +He reconciles himself to having relinquished his purpose of leading a +life devoted to pious meditations, ecstatic contemplation, and apostolic +works, and ceases to feel the sort of generous envy with which the +father vicar inspired him on the day of his death; but both he and +Pepita continue to give thanks, with great Christian devoutness, for +the benefits they enjoy, comprehending that not to their own merit do +they owe these benefits, but only to the goodness of God. + +And so my children have in their house a couple of apartments resembling +beautiful little Catholic chapels or oratories: but I must confess that +these chapels have, too, their trace of paganism--an +amorous-pastoral-poetic and Arcadian air, which is to be seen only +beyond city walls. + +The orchard of Pepita is no longer an orchard, but a most enchanting +garden, with its _araucarias_, its Indian fig-trees, that grow here in +the open air, and its well-arranged though small hot-house, full of rare +plants. + +The dining-room in which we ate the strawberries on the afternoon on +which Pepita and Luis saw and spoke with each other for the second time +has been transformed into a graceful temple, with portico and columns of +white marble. Within is a spacious apartment, comfortably furnished, and +adorned by two beautiful pictures. One represents Psyche, discovering, +by the light of her lamp, Cupid asleep on his couch; the other +represents Chloe, when the fugitive grasshopper has taken refuge in her +bosom, where, believing itself secure, it begins to chirp in the +pleasant hiding-place from which Daphne tries, meanwhile, to take it +forth. + +A very good copy, in Carrara marble, of the Venus de' Medici occupies +the most prominent place in the apartment, and, as it were, presides +over it. On the pedestal are engraved, in letters of gold, these words +of Lucretius: + + "_Nec sine te quidquam dias in luminis oras + Exoritur, neque fit lætum, neque amabile quidquam._" + + +THE END. + + +PEPITA XIMENEZ. + +From the Spanish of JUAN VALERA, + +WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THIS EDITION. + + +"Pepita Ximenez," by Señor Don Juan Valera, recently Spanish Minister to +the Government of the United States, is the most successful of recent +novels in Spain, having attained a large number of editions in that +country, and been translated into German, French, Italian, and Bohemian. +Señor Valera is recognized as the most prominent literary man of the +time in Spain. A large number of volumes have come from his pen, all of +which enjoy a great popularity in the author's native land. The present +translation is authorized by Señor Valera, who is admitted by the +publishers to all the rights of a native author. + +=12mo, paper cover. Price, 50 cents.= + + +ALIETTE + +(La Morte). + +From the French of OCTAVE FEUILLET, + +Author of "The Romance of a Poor Young Man," etc., etc. + +_From the London Athenæum._ + +"Not often has a representative of the past in literature obtained a +more decided success over his younger rivals than M. Octave Feuillet has +obtained with 'La Morte.' Of the popularity of the book it is enough to +say that the fiftieth edition was advertised in Paris within two or +three weeks of publication. The important thing is not that 'La Morte' +has commanded so much success, but that it has deserved it. The story is +that of a hero who has two wives--the first an angel, and the second +something quite different from an angel. The first has been brought up +in the straitest sect of Catholics, the second has been educated to +science, and nothing but science. Of course, in this mere contrast there +is nothing very striking or original. But in the way in which M. +Feuillet has linked the fortunes of Bernard de Vaudricourt to the two, +in the gradual increase of the interest and of the tragic force of the +situation, and, lastly, in the writing itself, there is merit of a most +unusual kind." + +=12mo, paper cover, 50 cents; half bound, 75 cents.= + +New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 3, and 6 Bond Street. + + +_A BRILLIANT NEW AMERICAN NOVEL_ + +A CONVENTIONAL BOHEMIAN. + +A NOVEL. By EDMUND PENDLETON. 12mo. Cloth, $1,25. + + +"A Conventional Bohemian" is a society novel, the greater part of the +action taking place at summer cottages on the shores of New England. The +plot of the story is simple, the action direct, the movement often +dramatic. Although a society novel, it reaches at times the heights of +passion, and reveals a remarkable knowledge of the motives and conflicts +of the human heart. The style is noticeable for epigrammatic wit and +wisdom in the lighter scene, and for dramatic power in the serious ones. +There are a number of well-drawn characters, the heroine being a +peculiarly felicitous study, and the hero a virile and striking +portrait. It is a novel sure of many admirers among those who delight in +intellectual subtlety and artistic execution. + + +_"A POWERFUL, WELL-CONSTRUCTED STORY."_ + +THE ALIENS. + +A NOVEL. By HENRY F. KEENAN, author of "Trajan," etc. 12mo. Cloth, +$1.25. + +"The Aliens" is a stirring, picturesque romance, depicting life and +character in strong contrasts, and marked by an affluent and vivid +style. The scene of the story is laid in the western part of the State +of New York, about fifty years ago--the events coming down to the time +of the Mexican War. + +"He colors richly, warmly, and with the dash of an artist; ... and his +characters grow, and are not manufactured; ... the freshest and most +readable American novel of the season."--_Philadelphia Bulletin_. + +"The prevailing merit of the story is the vivid sense of reality which +the writer gives to scenes and characters; ... above all things, +interesting."--_Rochester Post-Express._ + +"Not second to 'Trajan' in character-painting, felicity of diction, +well-managed conversations, pathos, and humor."--_Journal of Commerce._ + +"Thoroughly interesting in plot, and told with equal skill and +animation."--_Boston Gazette_. + +THE NEW TWENTY-FIVE CENT SERIES. + + +THE SECRET OF HER LIFE. By EDWARD JENKINS, author +of "Ginx's Baby," etc. + +FOR MAIMIE'S SAKE. By GRANT ALLEN, author of "Babylon," +etc. + +THE MASTER OF THE MINE. A Novel. By ROBERT +BUCHANAN. + +THE RABBI'S SPELL. A Russo-Jewish Romance. By STUART +C. CUMBERLAND. + +A DARK HOUSE. A Knot Unravelled. By G. MANVILLE FENN. + +A VAGRANT WIFE. A Novel. By FLORENCE WARDEN, author +of "The House on the Marsh," "A Prince of Darkness," etc., etc. + +A PRINCE OF DARKNESS. A Novel. By FLORENCE WARDEN, +author of "The House on the Marsh," etc. + +STRUCK DOWN. A Novel. By HAWLEY SMART, author of "A Race +for a Wife," etc. + +THE MAURICE MYSTERY. A Novel. By J. ESTEN COOKE, +author of "The Virginia Comedians," etc. + +A NEMESIS; or, Tinted Vapors. A Novel. By J. MACLAREN +COBBAN, author of "The Cure of Souls." + +THE TINTED VENUS. A Farcical Romance. By F. ANSTEY, +author of "Vice Versa," "The Giant's Robe," etc. + +THE WITCH'S HEAD. A Novel. By H. R. HAGGARD. + +MATT: A Tale of a Caravan. By ROBERT BUCHANAN. + +ADDIE'S HUSBAND. A Novel. + +THE CRIME OF CHRISTMAS-DAY. A Tale of the +Latin Quarter. By the author of "My Ducats and my Daughter." + +DELDEE; or, The Iron Hand. A Novel. By the author of "The +House on the Marsh" and "At the World's Mercy." + +AT THE WORLD'S MERCY. A Novel. By the author of +"The House on the Marsh." + +THE HOUSE ON THE MARSH. A Romance. + +_12mo, paper covers. Price, 25 cents each,_ + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pepita Ximenez, by Juan Valera + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30236 *** diff --git a/30236-h/30236-h.htm b/30236-h/30236-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..bb33561 --- /dev/null +++ b/30236-h/30236-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,6853 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> + <head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> +<title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Pepita Ximenez, by Juan Valera. +</title> +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top:.75em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.75em;text-indent:2%;} + +.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} + +.r {text-align:right;margin-right:5%;} + +.date {text-align:right;margin-right:10%;font-weight:800;} + + h1 {text-align:center;clear:both;letter-spacing:.25em;margin-top:15%;} + + h2 {text-align:center;clear:both;letter-spacing:.25em;} + + h3 {margin-top:15%;text-align:center;clear:both;line-height:50px;} + +.toc {text-align:center;margin:10% 33% 10% 33%;text-indent:0%;border:3px double gray;padding:2%;} + +.top5 {margin-top:5%;} + +.top15 {margin-top:15%;text-align:center;text-indent:0%;font-weight:800;font-variant:small-caps;} + + hr {width:10%;margin:2em auto 2em auto;clear:both;color:black;} + + hr.full {width:100%;margin:5% auto 5% auto;border:4px double gray;} + + table {margin-left:auto;margin-right:auto;border:none;} + + body{margin-left:10%;margin-right:10%;background:#fdfdfd;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} + +a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + + link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} + +a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} + +a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} + +.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:95%;} + +.poem {margin-left:25%;white-space:nowrap;text-indent:0%;} +</style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30236 ***</div> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h1>PEPITA XIMENEZ</h1> + +<p class="c smcap"><b>FROM THE SPANISH OF</b></p> + +<h2>JUAN VALERA</h2> + +<p class="c"><b><i>WITH AN INTRODUCTION</i></b><br /> +<b>BY THE AUTHOR</b><br /> +<b>WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THIS EDITION</b></p> + +<p class="c top5"><b>NEW YORK<br /> +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1886</b></p> + +<p class="c"><span class="smcap">COPYRIGHT</span>, 1886,<br /> +<span class="smcap">by</span> D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.</p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#CONTENTS"><b>CONTENTS</b></a></p> + + +<h3><a name="AUTHORS" id="AUTHORS"></a>AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.</h3> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>To the Messrs. Appleton.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>: It was my intention to write a preface for the purpose of +authorizing the edition you are about to publish in English of "Pepita +Ximenez"; but, on thinking the matter over, I was deterred by the +recollection of an anecdote that I heard in my young days.</p> + +<p>A certain gallant, wishing to be presented at the house of a rich man +who was about to give a magnificent ball, availed himself for that +purpose of the services of a friend, who boasted of his familiarity with +the great man, and of the favor he enjoyed with him. They proceeded to +the great man's house, and the gallant got his introduction; but the +great man said to him who had introduced the other, "And you, who is to +introduce you, for I am not acquainted with you?" As I entertain a +profound respect and affection for this country, and have not, besides, +the assurance that such an occasion would require, it would not do for +me to say what the <i>introducer</i> of my story is said to have answered, +"I need no one to introduce or to recommend me, for I am just now going +away."</p> + +<p>I infer from my story, as its evident moral, that I ought to refrain +from addressing the public of the United States, to which I am entirely +unknown as an author, notwithstanding the fact of my having maintained +pleasant and friendly relations with its Government as the +representative of my own.</p> + +<p>The most judicious and prudent course I can adopt, then, is to limit +myself to returning you earnest thanks for asking from me an +authorization of which you did not stand in need, either by law or by +treaty, for wishing to make known to your countrymen the least insipid +of the products of my unfruitful genius, and for your generous purpose +of conceding to me author's rights.</p> + +<p>This, however, does not preclude the fact that, in thus expressing my +thanks to you publicly, I incur a responsibility which I did not assume +on any other occasion, either in Germany, Italy, or any other country +where my works have been translated; for then, if they failed to please +the public, although the fact might pain me, I could still shrug my +shoulders, and throw the blame of failure on the translator, or the +publisher; but in this case I make myself your accomplice, and share, or +rather receive, all the disgrace of failure, if failure there should be.</p> + +<p>"Pepita Ximenez" has enjoyed a wide celebrity, not only in Spain, but in +every other Spanish-speaking country. I am very far from thinking that +we Spaniards of the present day are either more easily satisfied, less +cultured than, or possessed of an inferior literary taste to, the +inhabitants of any other region of the globe; but this does not suffice +to dispel my misgivings that my novel may be received with indifference +or with censure by a public somewhat prejudiced against Spain by +fanciful and injurious preconceptions.</p> + +<p>My novel, both in essence and form, is distinctively national and +classic. Its merit—supposing it to have such—consists in the language +and the style, and not in the incidents, which are of the most +commonplace, or in the plot, which, if it can be said to have any, is of +the simplest.</p> + +<p>The characters are not wanting, as I think, in individuality, or in such +truth to human nature as makes them seem like living beings; but, the +action being so slight, this is brought out and made manifest by means +of a subtile analysis, and by the language chosen to express the +emotions, both which may in the translation be lost. There is, besides, +in my novel a certain irony, good-humored and frank, and a certain +humor, resembling rather the humor of the English than the <i>esprit</i> of +the French, which qualities, although happily they do not depend upon +puns, or a play upon words, but are in the subject itself, require, in +order that they may appear in the translation, that this should be made +with extreme care.</p> + +<p>In conclusion, the chief cause of the extraordinary favor with which +"Pepita Ximenez" was received in Spain is something that may fail to be +noticed here by careless readers.</p> + +<p>I am an advocate of art for art's sake. I think it in very bad taste, +always impertinent, and often pedantic, to attempt to prove theses by +writing stories. For such a purpose dissertations or books purely and +severely didactic should be written. The object of a novel should be to +charm, through a faithful representation of human actions and human +passions, and to create by this fidelity to nature a beautiful work. The +object of art is the creation of the beautiful, and whoever applies it +to any other end, of however great utility this end may be, debases it. +But it may chance, through a conjunction of favorable circumstances, by +a happy inspiration, because in a given moment everything is, disposed +as by enchantment, or by supernatural influences, that an author's soul +may become like a clear and magic mirror wherein are reflected all the +ideas and all the sentiments that animate the eclectic spirit of his +country, and in which these ideas and these sentiments lose their +discordance, and group and combine themselves in pleasing agreement and +harmony.</p> + +<p>Herein is the explanation of the interest of "Pepita Ximenez." It was +written when Spain was agitated to its center, and everything was thrown +out of its regular course by a radical revolution that at the same time +shook to their foundations the throne and religions unity. It was +written when everything in fusion, like molten metal, might readily +amalgamate, and be molded into new forms. It was written when the strife +raged fiercest between ancient and modern ideals; and, finally, it was +written in all the plenitude of my powers, when my soul was sanest and +most joyful in the possession of an enviable optimism and an +all-embracing love and sympathy for humanity that, to my misfortune, can +never again find place within my breast.</p> + +<p>If I had endeavored by dialectics and by reasoning to conciliate +opinions and beliefs, the disapprobation would have been general; but, +as the conciliating and syncretic spirit manifested itself naturally in +a diverting story, every one accepted and approved it, each one drawing +from my book the conclusions that best suited himself. Thus it was that, +from the most orthodox Jesuit father down to the most rabid +revolutionist, and from the ultra-Catholic who cherishes the dream of +restoring the Inquisition, to the rationalist who is the irreconcilable +enemy of every religion, all were pleased with "Pepita Ximenez."</p> + +<p>It would be curious, and not inopportune, to explain here how it came +about that I succeeded in pleasing every one without intending it, +without knowing it, and, as it were, by chance.</p> + +<p>There was in Spain, some years ago, a conservative minister who had sent +a godson of his to study philosophy in Germany. By rare good fortune +this godson, who was called Julián Sanz del RÃo, was a man of clear and +profound intelligence, of unwearied application, and endowed with all +the qualities necessary to make of him a sort of apostle. He studied, he +formulated his system, he obtained the chair of metaphysics in the +University of Madrid, and he founded a school, from which has since +issued a brilliant pleiad of philosophers and statesmen, and of men +illustrious for their learning, their eloquence, and their virtues. +Chief among them are Nicolás Salmerón, Francisco Giner, Gumersindo +Azcárate, Federico de Castro, and Urbano González Serrano.</p> + +<p>The clerical party soon began to stir up strife against the master, the +scholars, and the doctrines taught by them. They accused them of +mystical pantheism.</p> + +<p>I, who had ridiculed, at times, the confused terms, the pomp of words, +and the method which the new philosophers made use of, regarded these +philosophers, nevertheless, with admiration, and took up their +defense—an almost solitary champion—in periodicals and reviews.</p> + +<p>I had already maintained, before this, that our great dogmatic +theologians, and especially the celebrated Domingo de Soto, were more +liberal than the liberal rationalists of the present day, affirming, as +they do, the sovereignty of the people by divine right; for if, as St. +Paul declares, all authority proceeds from God, it does so through the +medium of the people whom God inspires to found it; and because the only +authority that proceeds directly from God is that of the Church.</p> + +<p>I then set myself to demonstrate that, if Sanz del RÃo and his followers +were pantheists, our mystical theologians of the sixteenth and +seventeenth centuries were pantheists also; and that, if the former had +for predecessors Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and Krause, St. Theresa, St. +John de la Cruz, and the inspired and ecstatic Father Miguel de la +Fuente followed, as their model, Tauler and others of the Germans. In +saying this, however, it was not my intention to deny the claims of any +of these mystical writers as founders of their school in Spain, but only +to recognize, in this unbroken transmission of doctrine, the progressive +continuity of European civilization.</p> + +<p>For the purpose of carrying forward my undertaking, I read and studied +with ardor every Spanish book on devotion, asceticism, and mysticism +that fell into my hands, growing every day more charmed with the +richness of our literature in such works; with the treasures of poetry +contained in them; with the boldness and independence of their authors; +with the profound and delicate observation, in which they excel the +Scotch school, that they display in examining the faculties of the soul; +and with their power of entering into themselves, of penetrating to the +very center of the mind, in order there to behold God, and to unite +themselves with God, not therefore losing their own personality, or +their capacity for an active life, but issuing from the ecstasies and +ravishments of divine love more apt than before for every work that can +benefit the human species, as the steel is more finely tempered, +polished, and bright after it has burned in the fires of the forge.</p> + +<p>Of all this, on its most poetic and easily understood side, I wished to +give a specimen to the Spanish public of to-day, who had forgotten it; +but, as I was a man of my epoch, a layman, not very exemplary as regards +penitential practices, and had the reputation of a freethinker, I did +not venture to undertake doing this in my own name, and I created a +theological student who should do it in his. I then fancied that I could +paint with more vividness the ideas and the feelings of this student by +contrasting them with an earthly love; and this was the origin of +"Pepita Ximenez." Thus, when it was farthest from my thoughts, did I +become a novelist. My novel had, therefore, the freshness and the +spontaneity of the unpremeditated.</p> + +<p>The novels I wrote afterward, with premeditation, are inferior to this +one.</p> + +<p>"Pepita Ximenez" pleased the public also, as I have said, by its +transcendentalism.</p> + +<p>The rationalists supposed that I had rejected the old ideals, as my hero +casts off the clerical garb. And the believers, with greater unanimity +and truth, compared me to the false prophet who went forth to curse the +people of Israel, and without intending it exalted and blessed them. +What is certain is that, if it be allowable to draw any conclusion from +a story, the inference that may be deduced from mine is, that faith in +an all-seeing and personal God, and in the lore of this God, who is +present in the depths of the soul, even when we refuse to follow the +higher vocation to which he would persuade and solicit us—even were we +carried away by the violence of mundane passions to commit, like Don +Luis, almost all the capital sins in a single day—elevates the soul, +purifies the other emotions, sustains human dignity, and lends poetry, +nobility, and holiness to the commonest state, condition, and manner of +life.</p> + +<p>Such is, in my opinion, the novel you are now about to present to the +American public; for I repeat that I have not the right to make the +presentation.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, independent of its transcendentalism, my novel may serve to +interest and amuse your public for a couple of hours, and may obtain +some favor with it; for it is a public that reads a great deal, that is +indulgent, and that differs from the English public—which is eminently +exclusive in its tastes—by its generous and cosmopolitan spirit.</p> + +<p>I have always regarded as a delusion of national vanity the belief that +there is, or the hope that there ever will be, anything that, with +legitimate and candid independence, may be called American literature. +Greece diffused herself throughout the world in nourishing colonies, +and, after the conquests of Alexander, founded powerful states in Egypt, +in Syria, and even in Bactriana, among peoples who, unlike the American +Indians, possessed a high civilization of their own. But, +notwithstanding this dispersion, and this political severance from the +mother-country, the literature of Syracuse, of Antioch, and of +Alexandria was as much Greek literature as was the literature of Athens. +In my opinion, then, and for the same reason, the literature of New York +and Boston will continue to be as much English literature as the +literature of London and Edinburgh; the literature of Mexico and Buenos +Ayres will continue to be as much Spanish literature as the literature +of Madrid; the literature of Rio Janeiro will be as much Portuguese +literature as the literature of Lisbon. Political union may be severed, +but, between peoples of the same tongue and the same race, the ties of +spiritual fraternity are indissoluble, so long as their common +civilization lasts. There are immortal kings or emperors who reign and +rule in America by true divine right, and against whom no Washington or +Bolivar shall prevail—no Franklin succeed in plucking from them their +scepter. These tyrants are called Miguel de Cervantes, William +Shakespeare, and Luiz de Camoëns.</p> + +<p>All this does not prevent the new nation from bringing to the common +fund, and <i>pro indiviso</i>, of the culture of their race, rich elements, +fine traits of character, and perhaps even higher qualities. Thus it is +that I observe, in this American literature, of English origin and +language, a certain largeness of views, a certain cosmopolitanism and +affectionate comprehension of what is foreign, broad as the continent +itself which the Americans inhabit, and which forms a contrast to the +narrow exclusivism of the insular English. It is because of these +qualities that I venture to hope now for a favorable reception of my +little book; and it is in these qualities that I found my hope that the +fruits of Spanish genius in general will, in future, be better known and +more highly esteemed here than in Great Britain.</p> + +<p>Already, to some extent, Irving, Prescott, Ticknor, Longfellow, Howells, +and others have contributed, with judgment and discretion, translating, +criticising, and eulogizing our authors, to the realization of this +hope.</p> + +<p>Forgive my wearying you with this long letter, and believe me to be +sincerely yours,</p> + +<p class="r smcap">Juan Valera.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">New York</span>, <i>April 18, 1886.</i></p> + + + +<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3> + +<hr /> + +<table summary="toc" +cellpadding="2" +cellspacing="2"> + +<tr><td> </td><td> <a href="#AUTHORS">LETTER OF THE AUTHOR</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td> </td><td> <a href="#PEPITA_XIMENEZ">PEPITA XIMENEZ</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">I.</td><td>—<a href="#I">LETTERS OF MY NEPHEW</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">II.</td><td>—<a href="#II">PARALIPOMENA</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">III.</td><td>—<a href="#EPILOGUE">EPILOGUE. (LETTERS OF MY BROTHER)</a></td></tr> + +</table> + + + +<h3><a name="PEPITA_XIMENEZ" id="PEPITA_XIMENEZ"></a>PEPITA XIMENEZ</h3> + +<p>"<i>Nescit labi virtus.</i>"</p> + + +<p>The reverend Dean of the Cathedral of ———, deceased a few years since, +left among his papers a bundle of manuscript, tied together, which, +passing from hand to hand, finally fell into mine, without, by some +strange chance, having lost a single one of the documents contained in +it. Inscribed on this manuscript were the Latin words I use above as a +motto, but without the addition of the woman's name I now prefix to it +as its title; and this inscription has probably contributed to the +preservation of the papers, since, thinking them, no doubt, to be +sermons, or other theological matter, no one before me had made any +attempt to untie the string of the package, or to read a single page of +it.</p> + +<p>The manuscript is in three parts. The first is entitled "Letters from my +Nephew"; the second, "Paralipomena"; and the third, "Epilogue—Letters +from my Brother."</p> + +<p>All three are in the same handwriting, which, it may be inferred, is +that of the reverend dean; and, as taken together they form something +like a novel, I at first thought that perhaps the reverend dean wished +to exercise his genius in composing one in his leisure hours; but, +looking at the matter more closely, and observing the natural simplicity +of the style, I am inclined to think now that it is no novel at all, but +that the letters are copies of genuine epistles which the reverend dean +tore up, burned, or returned to their owners, and that the narrative +part only, designated by the biblical title of "Paralipomena," is the +work of the reverend dean, added for the purpose of completing the story +with incidents not related in the letters.</p> + +<p>However this may be, I confess that I did not find the reading of these +papers tiresome; I found them, indeed, rather interesting than +otherwise; and as nowadays everything is published, I have decided to +publish them too, without further investigation, changing only the +proper names, so that if those who bear them be still living they may +not find themselves figuring in a book without desiring or consenting to +it.</p> + +<p>The letters contained in the first part seem to have been written by a +very young man, with some theoretical but no practical knowledge of the +world, whose life was passed in the house of the reverend dean, his +uncle, and in the seminary, and who was imbued with an exalted religious +fervor and an earnest desire to be a priest.</p> + +<p>We shall call this young man Don Luis de Vargas.</p> + +<p>The aforesaid manuscript, faithfully transferred to print, is as +follows.</p> + + + +<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.<br /> +LETTERS FROM MY NEPHEW.</h3> + + +<p class="date"> +<i>March 22d.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Uncle and Venerable Master:</span></p> + +<p>Four days ago I arrived in safety at this my native village, where I +found my father, the reverend vicar, our friends and relations all in +good health. The happiness of seeing them and conversing with them has +so completely occupied my time and thoughts, that I have not been able +to write to you until now.</p> + +<p>You will pardon me for this.</p> + +<p>Having left this place a mere child, and coming back a man, the +impression produced upon me by all those objects that I had treasured up +in my memory is a singular one. Everything appears to me more +diminutive, much more diminutive, but also more pleasing to the eye, +than my recollection of it. My father's house, which in my imagination +was immense, is, indeed, the large house of a rich husbandman, but still +much smaller than the seminary. What I now understand and appreciate +better than formerly is the country around here. The orchards, above +all, are delightful. What charming paths there are through them! On one +side, and sometimes on both, crystal waters flow with a pleasant murmur. +The banks of these streams are covered with odorous herbs and flowers of +a thousand different hues. In a few minutes one may gather a large bunch +of violets. The paths are shaded by majestic trees, chiefly walnut and +fig trees; and the hedges are formed of blackberry-bushes, roses, +pomegranates, and honeysuckle.</p> + +<p>The multitude of birds that enliven grove and field is marvelous.</p> + +<p>I am enchanted with the orchards, and I spend a couple of hours walking +in them every afternoon.</p> + +<p>My father wishes to take me to see his olive-plantations, his vineyards, +his farm-houses; but of all this we have as yet seen nothing. I have not +been outside of the village and the charming orchards that surround it.</p> + +<p>It is true, indeed, that the numerous visits I receive do not leave me a +moment to myself.</p> + +<p>Five different women have come to see me, all of whom were my nurses, +and have embraced and kissed me.</p> + +<p>Every one calls me Luisito, or Don Pedro's boy, although I have passed +my twenty-second birthday; and every one inquires of my father for <i>the +boy</i>, when I am not present.</p> + +<p>I imagine I shall make but little use of the books I have brought with +me to read, as I am not left alone for a single instant.</p> + +<p>The dignity of squire, which I supposed to be a matter for jest, is, on +the contrary, a serious matter. My father is the squire of the village.</p> + +<p>There is hardly any one here who can understand what they call my +caprice of entering the priesthood, and these good people tell me, with +rustic candor, that I ought to throw aside the clerical garb; that to be +a priest is very well for a poor young man, but that I, who am to be a +rich man's heir, should marry, and console the old age of my father by +giving him half a dozen handsome and robust grandchildren.</p> + +<p>In order to flatter my father and myself, both men and women declare +that I am a splendid fellow, that I am of an angelic disposition, that I +have a very roguish pair of eyes, and other stupid things of a like kind +that annoy, disgust, and humiliate me, although I am not very modest, +and am too well acquainted with the meanness and folly of the world to +be shocked or frightened at anything.</p> + +<p>The only defect they find in me is that I am too thin through +over-study. In order to have me grow fat they propose not to allow me +either to study or even to look at a book while I remain here; and, +besides this, to make me eat of as many choice dishes of meats and +confectionery as they know how to concoct in the village.</p> + +<p>It is quite clear—I am to be stall-fed. There is not a single family of +our acquaintance that has not sent me some token of regard. Now it is a +sponge-cake, now a meat-salad, now a pyramid of sweetmeats, now a jug of +sirup.</p> + +<p>And these presents which they send to the house are not the only +attentions they show me. I have also been invited to dinner by three or +four of the principal persons of the village.</p> + +<p>To-morrow I am to dine at the house of the famous Pepita Ximenez, of +whom you have doubtless heard. No one here is ignorant of the fact that +my father is paying her his addresses.</p> + +<p>My father, notwithstanding his fifty-five years, is so well preserved +that the finest young men of the village might feel envious of him. He +possesses, besides, the powerful attraction, irresistible to some women, +of his past conquests, of his celebrity, of having been a sort of Don +Juan Tenorio.</p> + +<p>I have not yet made the acquaintance of Pepita Ximenez. Every one says +she is very beautiful. I suspect she will turn out to be a village +beauty, and somewhat rustic. From what I have heard of her I can not +quite decide whether, ethically speaking, she is good or bad; but I am +quite certain that she is possessed of great natural intelligence. +Pepita is about twenty years old and a widow; her married life lasted +only three years. She was the daughter of Doña Francisca Galvez, the +widow, as you know, of a retired captain</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Who left her at his death,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As sole inheritance, his honorable sword,"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>as the poet says. Until her sixteenth year Pepita lived with her mother +in very straitened circumstances—bordering, indeed, upon absolute want.</p> + +<p>She had an uncle called Don Gumersindo, the possessor of a small +entailed estate, one of those petty estates that, in olden times, owed +their foundation to a foolish vanity. Any ordinary person, with the +income derived from this estate, would have lived in continual +difficulties, burdened by debts, and altogether cut off from the display +and ceremony proper to his rank. But Don Gumersindo was an extraordinary +person—the very genius of economy. It could not be said of him that he +created wealth himself, but he was endowed with a wonderful faculty of +absorption with respect to the wealth of others; and, in regard to +dispensing, it would be difficult to find any one on the face of the +globe with whose maintenance, preservation, and comfort, Mother Nature +and human industry ever had less reason to trouble themselves. No one +knows how he lived; but the fact is that he reached the age of eighty +years, saving his entire income, and adding to his capital by lending +money on unquestionable security. No one here speaks of him as a usurer; +on the contrary, he is considered to have been of a charitable +disposition, because, being moderate in all things, he was so even in +usury; and would ask only ten per cent a year, while throughout the +district they ask twenty and even thirty per cent, and still think it +little.</p> + +<p>In the practice of this species of industry and economy, and with +thoughts dwelling constantly on increasing instead of diminishing his +capital, indulging neither in the luxury of matrimony and of having a +family, nor even of smoking, Don Gumersindo arrived at the age I have +mentioned, the possessor of a fortune considerable anywhere, and here +regarded as enormous, thanks to the poverty of these villagers, and to +the habit of exaggeration natural to the Andalusians.</p> + +<p>Don Gumersindo, always extremely neat and clean in his person, was an +old man who did not inspire repugnance.</p> + +<p>The articles of his modest wardrobe were somewhat worn, but carefully +brushed, and without a stain; although from time immemorial he had +always been seen with the same cloak, the same jacket, and the same +trousers and waistcoat. People sometimes asked each other in vain if +any one had ever seen, him wear a new garment.</p> + +<p>With all these defects, which here and elsewhere many regard as virtues, +though virtues in excess, Don Gumersindo possessed excellent qualities; +he was affable, obliging, compassionate, and did his utmost to please +and to be of service to everybody, no matter what trouble, anxiety, or +fatigue it might cost him, provided only it did not cost him money. Of a +cheerful disposition, and fond of fun and joking, he was to be found at +every feast and merry-making around, that was not got up by +contribution, which he enlivened by the amenity of his manners, and by +his discreet although not very Attic conversation. He had never had any +tender inclination for any one woman in particular, but, innocently and +without malice, he loved them all; and was the most given to +complimenting the girls, and making them laugh, of any old man for ten +leagues around.</p> + +<p>I have already said that he was the uncle of Pepita. When he was nearing +his eightieth year, she was about to complete her sixteenth. He was +rich; she, poor and friendless.</p> + +<p>Her mother was a vulgar woman of limited intelligence and coarse +instincts. She worshiped her daughter, yet lamented continually and with +bitterness the sacrifices she made for her, the privations she +suffered, and the disconsolate old age and melancholy end that awaited +her in the midst of her poverty. She had, besides, a son, older than +Pepita, who had a well-deserved reputation in the village as a gambler +and a quarrelsome fellow, and for whom, after many difficulties, she had +succeeded in obtaining an insignificant employment in Havana; thus +finding herself rid of him, and with the sea between them. After he had +been a few years in Havana, however, he lost his situation on account of +his bad conduct, and thereupon began to shower letters upon his mother, +containing demands for money. The latter, who had scarcely enough for +herself and for Pepita, grew desperate at this, broke out into abuse, +cursed herself and her destiny with a perseverance but little resembling +the evangelical virtue, and ended by fixing all her hopes upon settling +her daughter well, as the only way of getting out of her difficulties.</p> + +<p>In this distressing situation Don Gumersindo began to frequent the house +of Pepita and her mother, and to pay attentions to the former with more +ardor and persistence than he had shown in his attentions to other +girls. Nevertheless, to suppose that a man who had passed his eightieth +year without wishing to marry, should think of committing such a folly, +with one foot already in the grave, was so wild and improbable a +notion, that Pepita's mother, still less Pepita herself, never for a +moment suspected the audacious intentions of Don Gumersindo. Thus it was +that both were struck, one day, with amazement, when, after a good many +compliments between jest and earnest, Don Gumersindo, with the greatest +seriousness and without the least hesitation, proposed the following +categorical question:</p> + +<p>"Pepita, will you marry me?"</p> + +<p>Although the question came at the end of a great deal of joking, and +might itself be taken for a joke, Pepita, who, inexperienced though she +was in worldly matters, yet knew by a certain instinct of divination +that is in all women, and especially in young girls, no matter how +innocent they may be, that this was said in earnest, grew as red as a +cherry and said nothing. Her mother answered in her stead:</p> + +<p>"Child, don't be ill-bred; answer your uncle as you should: 'With much +pleasure, uncle; whenever you wish.'"</p> + +<p>This "with much pleasure, uncle—whenever you wish," came then, it is +said, and many times afterward, almost mechanically from the trembling +lips of Pepita, in obedience to the admonitions, the sermons, the +complaints, and even the imperious mandate of her mother.</p> + +<p>I see, however, that I am enlarging too much on this matter of Pepita +Ximenez and her history; but she interests me, as I suppose she should +interest you too, since, if what they affirm here be true, she is to be +your sister-in-law and my step-mother. I shall endeavor, +notwithstanding, to avoid dwelling on details, and to relate briefly +what perhaps you already know, though you have been away from here so +long.</p> + +<p>Pepita Ximenez was married to Don Gumersindo. The tongue of slander was +let loose against her, both in the days preceding the wedding and for +some months afterward.</p> + +<p>In point of fact, ethically considered, this marriage was a matter that +will admit of discussion; but, so far as the girl herself is concerned, +if we remember her mother's prayers, her complaints, and even her +commands—if we take into consideration the fact that Pepita thought by +this means to procure for her mother a comfortable old age, and to save +her brother from dishonor and infamy, constituting herself his guardian +angel and his earthly providence, we must confess that our condemnation +will admit of some abatement. Besides, who shall penetrate into the +recesses of the heart, into the hidden secrets of the immature mind of a +young girl brought up, probably, in the most absolute seclusion and +ignorance of the world, in order to know what idea she might have formed +to herself of marriage? Perhaps she thought that to marry this old man +meant to devote her life to his service, to be his nurse, to soothe his +old age; to save him from a solitude and abandonment embittered by his +infirmities, and in which only mercenary hands should minister to him; +in a word, to cheer and illumine his declining years with the glowing +beams of her beauty and her youth, like an angel who has taken human +form. If something of this, or all of this, was what the girl thought, +and if she failed to perceive the full significance of her act, then its +morality is placed beyond question.</p> + +<p>However this may be, leaving aside psychological investigations that I +have no authority for making, since I am not acquainted with Pepita +Ximenez, it is quite certain that she lived in edifying harmony with the +old man during three years, that she nursed him and waited upon him with +admirable devotion, and that in his last painful and fatal sickness she +ministered to him and watched over him with tender and unwearying +affection, until he expired in her arms, leaving her heiress to a large +fortune.</p> + +<p>Although more than two years have passed since she lost her mother, and +more than a year and a half since she was left a widow, Pepita still +wears the deepest mourning. Her sedateness, her retired manner of +living, and her melancholy, are such that one might suppose she lamented +the death of her husband as much as though he had been a handsome young +man. Perhaps there are some who imagine or suspect that Pepita's pride, +and the certain knowledge she now has of the not very poetical means by +which she has become rich, trouble her conscience with something more +than doubt; and that, humiliated in her own eyes and in those of the +world, she seeks, in austerity and retirement, consolation for the +vexations of her mind, and balm for her wounded heart.</p> + +<p>People here, as everywhere, have a great love of money. Perhaps I am +wrong in saying, <i>as everywhere</i>; in populous cities, in the great +centers of civilization, there are other distinctions which are prized +as much as or even more than money, because they smooth the way to +fortune, and give credit and consideration in the eyes of the world; but +in smaller places, where neither literary nor scientific fame, nor, as a +rule, distinction of manners, nor elegance, nor discretion and amenity +in intercourse, are apt to be either valued or understood, there is no +other way by which to grade the social hierarchy than the possession of +more or less money, or of something worth money. Pepita, then, in the +possession of money, and beauty besides, and making a good use, as every +one says, of her riches, is to-day respected and esteemed in an +extraordinary degree. From this and the surrounding villages, the most +eligible suitors, the wealthiest young men, have crowded to pay their +court to her. But, so far as can be seen, she rejects them all, though +with the utmost sweetness, for she wishes to make no one her enemy; and +it is commonly supposed that her soul is filled with the most ardent +devotion, and that it is her fixed intention to dedicate her life to +practices of charity and religious piety.</p> + +<p>My father, according to the general opinion, has not succeeded better +than her other suitors; but Pepita, to fulfill the adage that "courtesy +and candor are consistent with each other," takes the greatest pains to +give him proofs of a frank, affectionate, and disinterested friendship. +She is unremitting in her attentions to him, and, when he tries to speak +to her of love, she brings him to a stop with a sermon delivered with +the most winning sweetness, recalling to his memory his past faults, and +endeavoring to undeceive him in regard to the world and its vain pomps.</p> + +<p>I confess that I begin to have some curiosity to know this woman, so +much do I hear her spoken of; nor do I think my curiosity is without +foundation, or that there is anything in it either vain or sinful. I +myself feel the truth of what Pepita says; I myself desire that my +father, in his advanced years, should enter upon a better life, should +forget, and not seek to renew the agitations and passions of his youth, +and should attain to the enjoyment of a tranquil, happy, and honorable +old age. I differ from Pepita's way of thinking in one thing only; I +believe my father would succeed in this rather by marrying a good and +worthy woman who loved him, than by remaining single. For this very +reason I desire to become acquainted with Pepita, in order to know if +she be this woman; for I am to a certain extent troubled—and perhaps +there is in this feeling something of family pride, which, if it be +wrong, I desire to divest myself of—by the disdain, however honeyed and +gracious, of the young widow.</p> + +<p>If my situation were other than it is, I should prefer my father to +remain unmarried. Then, being the only child, I should inherit all his +wealth, and, as one might say, nothing less than the position of squire +of the village. But you already know how firm is the resolution I have +taken. Humble and unworthy though I be, I feel myself called to the +priesthood, and the possessions of this world have but little power over +my mind. If there is anything in me of the ardor of youth, and the +vehemence of the passions proper to that age, it shall all be employed +in nourishing an active and fecund charity. Even the many books you have +given me to read, and my knowledge of the history of the ancient +civilizations of the peoples of Asia, contribute to unite within me +scientific curiosity with the desire of propagating the faith, and +invite and animate me to go forth as a missionary to the far East. As +soon as I leave this village, where you, my dear uncle, have sent me to +pass some time with my father, and am raised to the dignity of the +priesthood, and, ignorant and sinner as I am, feel myself invested, by +free and supernatural gift through the sovereign goodness of the Most +High, with the power to absolve from sin, and with the mission to teach +the peoples, as soon as I receive the perpetual and miraculous grace of +handling with impure hands the very God made man, it is my purpose to +leave Spain, and go forth to distant lands to preach the gospel.</p> + +<p>I am not actuated in this by any species of vanity. I do not desire to +believe myself superior to other men. The power of my faith, the +constancy of which I feel myself capable, everything after the favor and +grace of God, I owe to the judicious education, to the holy teaching, +and to the good example I have received from you, my dear uncle.</p> + +<p>There is something I hardly dare confess to myself, but which, against +my will, presents itself with frequency to my mind; and, since it +presents itself to my mind, it is my desire, it is my duty to confess it +to you: it would be wrong for me to hide from you even my most secret +and involuntary thoughts. You have taught me to analyze the feelings of +the soul; to search for their origin, if it be good or evil; to make, in +short, a scrupulous examination of conscience.</p> + +<p>I have often reflected on two different methods of education: that of +those who endeavor to keep the mind in innocence, confounding innocence +with ignorance, and believing evil that is unknown to be avoided more +easily than evil that is known; and that of those, on the other hand, +who courageously, and as soon as the pupil has arrived at the age of +reason, show him, with due regard for modesty, evil in all its hideous +ugliness and repulsive nakedness, to the end that he may abhor and avoid +it. According to my way of thinking, it is necessary to know evil in +order the better to comprehend the infinite divine goodness, the ideal +and unattainable end of every virtuously born desire. I am grateful to +you that you have made me to know, with the honey and the oil of your +teaching, as the Scripture says, both good and evil, to the end that I +should aspire to the one and condemn the other, knowingly and with +discreet ardor. I rejoice that I am no longer in a state of mere +innocence, and that I shall go forward in the progress toward virtue, +and, in so far as is permitted to humanity, toward perfection, with a +knowledge of all the tribulations, all the asperities that there are in +the pilgrimage we are called upon to make through this valley of tears; +as I am not ignorant, on the other hand, of how smooth, how easy, how +pleasant, how flowery, the road is, in appearance, that leads to +perdition and eternal death.</p> + +<p>Another thing for which I feel bound to be grateful to you is the +indulgence, the toleration, not condescending nor lax, but, on the +contrary, grave and severe, with which you have been able to inspire me +for the errors and the sins of my fellow-men.</p> + +<p>I say all this to you because I wish to speak to you on a subject of so +delicate a nature that I hardly find words in which to express myself +concerning it. In short, I often ask myself whether the resolution I +have adopted had not its origin, in part at least, in the character of +my relations with my father. In the bottom of my heart have I been able +to pardon him his conduct toward my poor mother, the victim of his +errors?</p> + +<p>I consider this matter carefully, and I can not find an atom of hatred +in my breast. On the contrary, gratitude fills it entirely. My father +has brought me up affectionately. He has tried to honor in me the memory +of my mother, and one would have said that in my bringing up, in the +care he took of me, in the indulgence with which he treated me, in his +devotion to me as a child, he sought to appease her angry shade—if the +shade, if the spirit of her who was on earth an angel of goodness and +gentleness, could be capable of anger. I repeat, then, that I am full of +gratitude toward my father; he has acknowledged me, and, besides, he +sent me at the age of ten years to you, to whom I owe all that I am.</p> + +<p>If there is in my heart any germ of virtue, if there is in my mind any +element of knowledge, if there is in my will any honorable and good +purpose, to you it is I owe it.</p> + +<p>My father's affection for me is extraordinary; the estimation in which +he holds me is far superior to my merits. Perhaps, vanity may have +something to do with this. In paternal love there is something selfish; +it is, as it were, a prolongation of selfishness. If I were possessed of +any merit, my father would regard it all as a creation of his own, as if +I were an emanation of his personality, as much in spirit as in body. Be +this as it will, however, I believe that my father loves me, and that +there is in his affection something self-sustaining, and superior to all +this pardonable selfishness of which I have spoken.</p> + +<p>I experience a great consolation, a profound tranquillity of +conscience—and for this I return most fervent thanks to God—when I +take cognizance of the fact that the power of blood, the tie of nature, +that mysterious bond that unites us, leads me, without any +consideration of duty, to love my father and to reverence him. It would +be horrible not to love him thus—to be compelled to force myself to +love in order to obey a divine command. Nevertheless—and here comes +back my doubt—does my purpose of becoming a priest or a friar, of not +accepting, or of accepting only a very small part of the immense fortune +that will be mine by inheritance, and which I might enjoy even during my +father's lifetime, does this proceed solely from my contempt of the +things of this world, from a true vocation for a religious life, or does +it not also proceed from pride, from hidden rancor, from resentment, +from something in me that refuses to forgive what my mother herself, +with sublime generosity, forgave? This doubt assails and torments me at +times, but almost always I resolve it in my favor, and come to the +conclusion that I have no feeling of pride toward my father: I think I +would accept from him all he has, if I were to need it, and I rejoice to +be as grateful to him for little as for much.</p> + +<p>Farewell, uncle; in future I will write to you often, and as much at +length as you recommend me, if not quite so much so as to-day, lest I +should appear prolix.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>March 28th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>I begin to be tired of my stay in this place, and every day the desire +grows stronger within me to return to you and to receive my ordination; +but my father wishes to accompany me, he wishes to be present at that +solemn ceremony, and desires that I should remain here with him at least +two months longer. He is so amiable, so affectionate with me, that it +would be impossible for me not to gratify him in all his wishes. I shall +remain here, therefore, for the time he desires. In order to give him +pleasure I do violence to my feelings, and make an effort to seem +interested in the amusements of the village, the country sports, and +even shooting, in all of which I am his companion. I try to appear gayer +and more animated than I am by nature. As, in the village, half in jest, +half by way of eulogy, I am called the saint, I endeavor, through +modesty, to avoid the appearance of sanctity, or to soften and humanize +its manifestations with the virtue of moderation, displaying a serene +and decent cheerfulness which was never yet opposed to holiness nor to +the saints. I confess, nevertheless, that the merry-making and the +sports of these people, with their coarse jokes and boisterous mirth, +weary me. I do not want to fall into the sin of scandal, nor to speak +ill of any one, though it be only to you and in confidence, but I often +think that it would be a more difficult enterprise, as well as a more +rational and meritorious one, to preach the gospel to these people, and +try to elevate their moral nature, than to go to India, Persia, or +China, leaving so many of my country-people behind, who are, if not +perverted, at least to some extent gone astray. Many, indeed, are of the +opinion that modern ideas, that materialism and infidelity, are to blame +for this; but if that be the case, if they it be that produce such evil +effects, then it must be in some strange, diabolical, and miraculous +manner, and not by natural means; since the fact is that here the people +read no books, either good or bad, so that I do not well see how they +can be perverted by any evil doctrines the books in fashion may contain. +Can these evil doctrines be in the air, like a miasma or an epidemic? +Perhaps—and I am sorry this thought, which I mention to you only, +should occur to me—perhaps the clergy themselves are in fault. Are +they, in Spain, equal to their mission? Do they go among the people, +teaching and preaching to them? Are they all capable of this? Have those +who consecrate themselves to a religious life and to the salvation of +souls a true vocation for their calling? Or is it only a means of +living, like any other, with this difference, that in our day only the +poorest, only those who are without expectations and without means, +devote themselves to it, for the very reason that this calling offers a +less brilliant prospect than any other? Be that as it may, the very +scarcity of virtuous and learned priests arouses all the more within me +the desire to be a priest. I would not willingly let self-love deceive +me. I recognize all my defects, but I feel within me a true vocation, +and many of those defects it may still be possible, with the divine +help, to correct.</p> + +<p>The dinner at the house of Pepita Ximenez, which I mentioned to you, +took place three days ago. As she leads so retired a life, I had not met +her before; she seemed to me, in truth, as beautiful as she is said to +be; and I noticed that her amiability with my father was such as to give +him reason to hope, at least judging superficially, that she will yield +to his wishes in the end, and accept his hand.</p> + +<p>As there is a possibility of her becoming my step-mother, I have +observed her with attention; she seems to me to be a remarkable woman, +whose moral qualities I am not able to determine with exactitude. There +is about her an air of calmness and serenity that may come either from +coldness of heart and spirit, with great self-control and power of +calculating effects, accompanied by little or no sensibility, or that +may, on the other hand, proceed from the tranquillity of her conscience +and the purity of her aspirations, united to the purpose of fulfilling +in this life the duties imposed upon her by society, while her hopes are +fixed meantime upon loftier things, as their proper goal. What is +certain is that, either because with this woman everything is the result +of calculation, without any effort to elevate her mind to a higher +sphere, or, it may be, because she blends in perfect harmony the prose +of daily life with the poetry of her illusions, there is nothing +discernible in her out of tone with her surroundings, although she +possesses a natural distinction of manner that elevates her above and +separates her from them all. She does not affect the dress of a +provincial, nor does she, on the other hand, follow blindly the fashions +of the city; she unites both these styles in her mode of dress in such a +manner as to appear like a lady, but still a lady country-born and +country-bred. She disguises to a great extent, as I think, the care she +takes of her person. There is nothing about her to betray the use of +cosmetics or the arts of the toilet. But the whiteness of her hands, the +color and polish of her nails, and the grace and neatness of her attire +denote a greater regard for such matters than might be looked for in one +who lives in a village, and who is said, besides, to despise the +vanities of this world, and to think only of heavenly things.</p> + +<p>Her house is exquisitely clean, and everything in it reveals the most +perfect order. The furniture is neither artistic nor elegant, nor is it, +on the other hand, either pretentious or in bad taste. To give a poetic +air to her surroundings, she keeps in the saloons and galleries, as well +as in the garden, a multitude of plants and flowers. There is not, +indeed, among them any rare plant or exotic, but her plants and flowers, +of the commonest species here, are tended with extraordinary care.</p> + +<p>Canaries in gilded cages enliven the whole house with their songs. Its +mistress, it is obvious, has need of living creatures on which to bestow +some of her affection; and besides several maid-servants that one would +suppose she had selected with care, since it can not be by mere chance +that they are all pretty, she has, after the fashion of old maids, +various animals to keep her company—a parrot, a little dog whose coat +is of the whitest, and two or three cats, so tame and sociable that they +jump up on one in the most friendly manner.</p> + +<p>At one end of the principal saloon is a species of oratory, whose chief +ornament is an <i>Infant Jesus</i>, carved in wood, with red and white cheeks +and blue eyes, and altogether quite handsome. The dress is of white +satin, with a blue cloak full of little golden stars; and the image is +completely covered with jewels and trinkets. The little altar on which +the figure is placed is adorned with flowers, and around it are set pots +of broom and laurel; and on the altar itself, which is furnished with +steps, a great many wax tapers are kept burning. When I behold all this +I know not what to think, but for the most part I am inclined to believe +that the widow loves herself above all things, and that it is for her +recreation, and for the purpose of furnishing her with occasions for the +effusion of this love, that she keeps the cats, the canaries, the +flowers, and even the <i>Infant Jesus</i> itself, which, in her secret soul, +perhaps, does not occupy a place very much higher than the canaries and +the cats.</p> + +<p>It can not be denied that Pepita Ximenez is possessed of discretion. No +silly jest, no impertinent question in regard to my vocation, and, above +all, in regard to my approaching ordination, has crossed her lips. She +conversed with me on matters relating to the village, about agriculture, +the last crop of grapes and olives, and the means of improving the +methods of making wine, expressing herself always with modesty and +naturalness, and without manifesting any desire of appearing to know +more than others.</p> + +<p>There were present at dinner the doctor, the notary, and the reverend +vicar, who is a great friend of the house, and the spiritual father of +Pepita.</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar must have a very high opinion of the latter, for on +several occasions he spoke to me apart of her charity, of the many alms +she bestows, of her compassion and goodness toward every one. In a word, +he declared her to be a saint.</p> + +<p>In view of what the vicar has told me, and relying on his judgment, I +can do no less than wish that my father may marry Pepita. As my father +is not fitted for a life of penance, in this way only could he hope to +change his mode of life, that up to the present has been so dissipated, +and settle down to a well-ordered and quiet, if not exemplary, old age.</p> + +<p>When we reached our house, after leaving that of Pepita Ximenez, my +father spoke to me seriously of his projects. He told me that in his +time he had been very wild, that he had led a very bad life, and that he +saw no way of reforming, notwithstanding his years, unless Pepita were +to fall in love with and marry him.</p> + +<p>Taking for granted, of course, that she would do so, my father then +spoke to me of business. He told me that he was very rich, and would +leave me amply provided for in his will, even though he should have +other children. I answered him that for my plans and purposes in life I +needed very little money, and that my greatest satisfaction would always +consist in knowing him to be happy with wife and children, his former +evil ways forgotten. My father then spoke to me of his tender hopes with +a candor and vivacity that might make one suppose me to be the father +and the old man, and he a youth of my age, or younger. In order to +enhance the merit of his mistress, and the difficulties of his conquest, +he recounted to me the accomplishments and the excellences of the +fifteen or twenty suitors who had already presented themselves to +Pepita, and who had all been rejected. As for himself, as he explained +to me, the same lot, to a certain extent, had been his also; but he +flattered himself that this want of success was not final, since Pepita +showed him so many kindnesses, and an affection so great that, if it +were not love, it might easily, with time, and the persistent homage he +dedicated to her, be converted into love. There was, besides, in my +father's opinion, a something fantastic and fallacious in the cause of +Pepita's coldness, that must in the end wear away. Pepita did not wish +to retire to a convent, nor did she incline to a penitential life. +Notwithstanding her seclusion and her piety, it was easy to see that she +took delight in pleasing. Her neatness and the exquisite care she took +of her person had in them little of the cenobite. The cause of her +coldness, then, my father declared to be, without a doubt, her pride—a +pride, to a certain extent, well founded. She is naturally elegant and +distinguished in appearance; both by her force of character and by her +intelligence she is superior to those who surround her, no matter how +she may seek, through modesty, to disguise it. How, then, should she +bestow her hand upon any of the rustics who, up to the present time, +have been her suitors? She imagines that her soul is filled with a +mystic love of God, and that God only can satisfy it, because thus far +no mortal has crossed her path intelligent enough and agreeable enough +to make her forget even her image of the <i>Infant Jesus</i>. "Although it +may seem to indicate a want of modesty on my part," added my father, "I +flatter myself with being such a one."</p> + +<p>Such, dear uncle, are the occupations and the projects of my father +here, and such the matters, so foreign to my nature, and to my aims and +thoughts, of which he speaks to me with frequency, and on which he +requires me to give an opinion.</p> + +<p>It would almost seem as if your too indulgent opinion of my judgment had +extended itself to the people here, for they all tell me their troubles, +and ask my advice as to the course they should adopt. Even the reverend +vicar, exposing himself to the risk of betraying what might be called +secrets of confession, has already come to consult me in regard to +several cases of conscience that have presented themselves to him in the +confessional.</p> + +<p>One of these cases, related, like all the others, with much mystery, and +without revealing the name of the person concerned, has greatly +interested me.</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar tells me that a certain penitent of his is troubled +by scruples of conscience, because, while she feels herself irresistibly +attracted toward a solitary and contemplative life, she yet fears at +times that this devout fervor is not accompanied by a true humility, but +that it is in part excited by, and has its source in, the demon of pride +himself.</p> + +<p>To love God in all things, to seek him in the inmost recesses of the +soul wherein he dwells, to purify ourselves from all earthly passions +and affections, in order to unite ourselves to him—these are, in truth, +pious aspirations and virtuous inclinations; but the doubt arises in +determining whether the source of these aspirations and inclinations be +not an exaggerated self-love. "Have they their origin," the penitent it +seems asks herself, "in the thought that I, although unworthy and a +sinner, presume my soul to be of more value than the souls of my +fellow-mortals?—that the interior beauty of my mind and of my will +would be dimmed by harboring affection for the human beings by whom I am +surrounded, and whom I deem unworthy of me? Do I love God above all +things, infinitely, or only more than the little things that I know, +and that I scorn and despise, that can not satisfy my heart? If my piety +is founded upon this feeling, then there are in it two great defects: +the first, that it is not based upon a pure love of God, full of +humility and charity, but on pride; and the second, that this piety, +because it is thus without foundation, is unstable and inefficacious. +For who can be certain that the soul will not forget the love of its +Creator, when it does not love him infinitely, but only because there is +no other being whom it deems worthy of endowing with its love?"</p> + +<p>It is concerning this case of conscience, refined and subtle enough thus +to exercise the mind of a simple rustic, that the reverend vicar has +come to consult me. I would have excused myself from saying anything in +the matter, alleging, as a reason for doing so, my youth and +inexperience; but the reverend vicar has shown himself so persistent in +the matter that I could do no less than discuss the question with him. I +said—and it would rejoice me greatly should you concur in my +opinion—that what this troubled penitent requires is to regard those +who surround her with greater benevolence; to try to throw over their +faults—instead of analyzing and dissecting them with the scalpel of +criticism—the mantle of charity, bringing into relief and dwelling upon +their good qualities, to the end that she may esteem and love them; to +endeavor, in fine, to behold in every human being an object worthy of +her love, a true fellow-creature, her equal, a soul wherein there is a +treasure of good qualities and virtues—a being made, in short, in the +image and likeness of God. Entertaining this exalted view of our +surroundings, loving and esteeming others for what they are, and as more +than they are, striving not to hold ourselves superior to them in +anything, but, on the contrary, searching courageously in the depths of +our own conscience for the purpose of discovering all our faults and +sins, and thus acquiring a devout humility and contempt of self, the +heart will feel itself full of human affection, and, instead of +despising, will value highly the worth of things and of persons, so that +if afterward divine love should, with irresistible power, erect itself +upon and tower above this foundation, there can then be no fear but that +such a love has its origin, not in an exaggerated self-esteem, in pride, +or in an unjust contempt for our neighbor, but in a pure and holy +contemplation of the Infinite Beauty and Goodness.</p> + +<p>If, as I suspect, it be Pepita Ximenez who has consulted the reverend +vicar in regard to these doubts and tribulations, I think my father can +not yet flatter himself with being very dear to her; but, if the vicar +should resolve on giving her my advice, and she accepts it and acts upon +it, then she will either become a sort of Maria de Agreda, a +self-conscious recluse, or, what is more probable, she will cast away +mysticism and coldness altogether, and will consent to accept, without +further caviling, the hand and heart of my father who is in no respect +her inferior.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>April 4th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>My life in this place begins, from its monotony, to be wearisome; and +not because it is, physically, less active here than it was elsewhere, +for I walk and ride a great deal, and make excursions into the country, +and, to please my father, visit the club-house and go to parties, and +live, in short, in a state of dissatisfaction with myself and with my +surroundings. But my intellectual life is a blank; I read nothing, and +there is hardly a moment left me in which to reflect and meditate with +tranquillity; and, as reflection and meditation were what constituted +the chief charm of my existence, my life without them seems to me +monotonous. Thanks to the patience which you have recommended to me for +every occasion, I am able to endure it.</p> + +<p>Another thing that prevents my spirit from being completely at rest is +the longing, that becomes every day more ardent within me, to embrace +that life to which, without a moment's vacillation, I have been for +years inclined. It seems to me that, in those moments when I feel +myself so near to the realization of the constant dream of my life, it +is something like a profanation to allow my mind to be distracted by +other objects. So much does this idea torment me, and to so many doubts +does it give rise within me, that my admiration for the beauty of things +created—of the heavens so full of stars, in these serene nights of +spring, and in this favored region of Andalusia; of these smiling +fields, now covered with verdure, and of these cool and pleasant +gardens, abounding in shady and delightful walks, in gently flowing +streams and rivulets, in sequestered nooks, in birds that enliven them +with song, and in flowers and odorous herbs—this admiration and +enthusiasm, I repeat, which formerly seemed to me in perfect harmony +with the religious feeling that filled my soul, animating and exalting +it, instead of weakening it, seems to me now almost a sinful +distraction, and an unpardonable forgetfulness of the eternal for the +temporal, of the uncreated and the spiritual for the material and +created. Although I have made but little progress in virtue, although my +mind is never free from the phantasms of the imagination, although the +interior man is never exempt in me from the influence of external +impressions, and from the need of employing in meditation the fatiguing +argumentative method; although I can not, by an effort of love, withdraw +myself to the very center of pure intelligence, to the loftiest sphere +of thought, in order to behold there goodness and truth divested of +images and forms, yet I confess to you that the method of mental prayer, +unrestricted by set forms, makes me afraid. Even rational meditation +inspires me with distrust. I do not want to employ a process of +reasoning in order to know God, nor to adduce arguments for loving, in +order to love him. I desire, by a single effort of the will, to elevate +myself to and be absorbed in the divine contemplation. Oh, that I had +the wings of a dove, to fly to the bosom of him whom my soul loveth! But +what and where are my merits? Where the mortifications, the extended +prayers, and the fasting? What have I done, O my God, that thou shouldst +favor me?</p> + +<p>I know that the ungodly of the present day accuse—though without any +foundation whatever—our holy religion of inciting souls to abhor the +things of this world, to despise or to contemn nature, perhaps to fear +it also, as if there were in it something diabolical, placing all their +affections on what these ungodly call the monstrous egotism of divine +love, for it is herself, they say, the soul loves in loving God; I know, +too, that this is not the case; that the divine love is charity, and +that to love God is to love all things, for all things are in God, in a +supreme and ineffable manner. I know that I commit no sin in loving +material things for the love of God, which is to love them for +themselves, righteously; for what are material things but the +manifestation, the creation of the love of God? And, notwithstanding, I +know not what undefinable fear, what unwonted scruple, what vague and +scarcely perceptible remorse torments me now, when, as formerly, as in +other days of my youth, as in childhood itself, I feel an effusion of +tenderness, a sort of ecstasy of enthusiasm, on penetrating into some +leafy grove, on hearing the song of the nightingale, or the twittering +of the swallows, or the tender cooing of the dove; on looking at the +flowers, on beholding the stars. I imagine, at times, that there is in +all this something of sensual pleasure, a something that makes me +forget, for the moment at least, more lofty aspirations. I do not desire +that in me the spirit should sin against the flesh; but neither do I +desire, on the other hand, that the beauty of the material world—that +its delights, even those most delicate, subtle, and ethereal ones that +are perceived rather by the spirit than by the senses, such as the soft +sigh of the zephyr, laden with rural scents, the song of the birds, the +peaceful and majestic silence of the night in these gardens and +orchards—should distract me from the contemplation of higher beauty, or +weaken, even for a moment, my love toward Him who has created this +harmonious fabric of the world.</p> + +<p>I know that all these material things are like the letters of a book, +the signs and characters in which the soul, eager for knowledge, may +find a hidden meaning, and decipher and discover the beauty of God that, +though but dimly, is shadowed forth in them, and of which they are the +pictures or rather emblems, because they do not represent, but only +symbolize it. On this distinction I dwell at times to strengthen my +scruples and mortify the flesh. For, I consider, if I love the beauty of +earthly things as they are, it is idolatry; I ought to love this beauty +as a sign, as the symbol of a beauty occult and divine, and infinitely +superior to it in all things.</p> + +<p>A few days ago I completed my twenty-second year. Heretofore, my +religious fervor has been such that I have felt no other love than the +immaculate love of God himself and of his holy religion, which I desire +to diffuse and see triumphant in all the regions of the earth. I confess +that something of a profane sentiment has mingled itself with this +purity of affection. You are aware of this; I have told it to you many +times, and you, regarding me with your accustomed indulgence, have +answered me that man is not an angel, and that even to aspire to so +great a degree of perfection is pride; that I should endeavor to +moderate these sentiments rather than seek to eradicate them entirely. +Love of knowledge, a desire for the reputation which is founded on the +possession of knowledge, even a not unfavorable opinion of one's own +merits, these, even when kept within just bounds, though guarded and +moderated by Christian humility, and directed toward a good end, have in +them, doubtless, something of selfishness, but they may serve as a +stimulus and a support to the noblest and most constant resolutions. The +scruples that trouble my conscience now, therefore, have not their +source in pride, in an overweening self-confidence, in a desire for +worldly fame, or in a too great love of knowledge. Nothing of this +nature it is that troubles me; nothing bearing any relation to +self-conceit, but, in a certain sense, something entirely opposed to it. +I feel a lassitude, a debility and abandonment of the will so great—I +am so ready to weep for tenderness when I see a little flower, when I +contemplate the ray, mysterious, tenuous, and swift, of a remote +star—that it almost makes me afraid.</p> + +<p>Tell me what you think of these things; and if there be not something +morbid in this disposition of my mind.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>April 8th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>The amusements of the country, in which, very much against my will, I am +compelled to take part, still go on.</p> + +<p>My father has taken me to see almost all his plantations, and he and his +friends are astonished to find me not altogether ignorant in matters +pertaining to the country. It would seem as if, in their eyes, the study +of theology, to which I have dedicated myself, were incompatible with a +familiarity with Nature. How much have they not wondered at my +knowledge, on seeing me discriminate, among the vines that have only +just begun to sprout, the common from the choice varieties! How much +have they not wondered, too, at my being able to distinguish, among the +young plants in the fields, the shoots of the barley from those of the +bean; at my being familiar with many fruit and shade trees; at my +knowing the names of many plants, even, that grow spontaneously in the +woods, as well as something of their properties and virtues!</p> + +<p>Pepita Ximenez, who has heard through my father of the delight I take in +the gardens here, has invited me to visit one that she owns at a short +distance from the village, and eat the early strawberries that grow +there. This caprice of Pepita's to show so many little attentions to my +father, while at the same time she declines his addresses, seems to me +at times to partake somewhat of coquetry, and to be worthy of +reprobation. But when next I see her, and find her so natural, so frank +and so simple, this bad opinion is dispelled, and I can not believe her +to have any other end in view than to maintain the friendly relations +that exist between her and our family.</p> + +<p>Be this as it may, yesterday afternoon we went to Pepita's garden. It is +charmingly situated, and as delightful and picturesque a place as one +can imagine. The river, that by means of innumerable drains waters +almost all these gardens, falls into a deep ravine, bordered on both +sides by white and black poplars, osiers, flowering oleanders, and other +leafy trees. The waterfall, clear and transparent, precipitates itself +into this ravine, sending up a cloud of spray, and then follows its +tortuous course by a channel formed for it by Nature herself, enameling +its banks with a thousand plants and flowers, and just now covering them +with a multitude of violets. The declivity at the end of the garden is +full of walnut, hazel, fig, and other fruit trees; and in the level +portion are beds planted with strawberries and vegetables, tomatoes, +potatoes, beans, and peppers. There is also a little flower-garden, with +a great abundance of flowers, of the kinds most commonly cultivated +here. Roses especially abound, and of these there are innumerable +varieties. The house of the gardener is prettier and cleaner than the +houses of its class that one is accustomed to see in this part of the +country; and near it there is another smaller building, dedicated to the +use of the mistress of the place, where Pepita regaled us with a +sumptuous collation. The pretext for this collation was the +strawberries, to eat which was the chief purpose of our visit. The +quantity of strawberries, considering the earliness of the season, was +astonishing. They were served with the milk of goats belonging also to +Pepita.</p> + +<p>There were present at this banquet the doctor, the notary, my aunt +Casilda, my father, and myself, and of course the indispensable vicar, +spiritual father, and, more than spiritual father, admirer and perpetual +eulogist of Pepita.</p> + +<p>By a sort of sybaritic refinement, it was not by the gardener, nor his +wife, nor the son of the gardener, nor by any other rustic, that we were +served at this banquet, but by two lovely girls, confidential servants, +in a manner, of Pepita's, dressed like peasants, but with the greatest +neatness and even elegance. They wore gowns of gay-colored percale, +short, and confined at the waist, and around their shoulders silk +handkerchiefs. Their lustrous and abundant black hair, without covering, +was braided and arranged in a knot behind; and in front they wore curls +confined to the head by large hair-pins, here called <i>caracols</i>. Above +the knot or <i>chignon</i> they each displayed a bunch of fresh roses.</p> + +<p>Pepita's attire, except that it was black and of rich material, was +equally unpretending. Her merino gown, made in the same style as those +of her maids, without being short, was yet not long enough to catch the +dust of the ground. A modest handkerchief of black silk covered also, +according to the usage of the country, her shoulders and bosom; and on +her head she wore no other ornament, either flower or jewel, than that +of her own blonde tresses.</p> + +<p>The only particular, with respect to Pepita, in which I observed a +certain fastidiousness, and in which she departed from the customs of +the country-people, was in wearing gloves. It is evident that she takes +great care of her hands, and is, perhaps, to a certain extent, vain of +their beauty and whiteness, as well as of her rose-colored and polished +nails; but if this be so, it is to be pardoned to the weakness of the +flesh; and indeed, if I remember aright, I think that St. Theresa, in +her youth, had this same species of vanity, which did not prevent her, +however, from becoming a great saint.</p> + +<p>In truth, I can understand, even though I do not excuse, this little +piece of vanity. It is so distinguished, so aristocratic to possess a +beautiful hand! I even think, at times, that there is something +symbolic in it. The hand is the instrument by which we execute our +works, the sign of our nobility, the means by which the intellect gives +form and shape to its artistic conceptions, by which it gives reality to +the mandates of its will, by which it exercises the dominion that God +conceded to man over all other creatures. The rough, strong, sinewy, +horny hand, it may be, of a laborer, a workman, testifies nobly to this +dominion, but on its rudest and least intellectual side. The hands of +Pepita, on the contrary, transparent almost, like alabaster, but +rosy-hued, and in which one can almost see the pure and subtle blood +circulate that gives to the veins their faint, bluish tinge—these +hands, I say, with their tapering fingers, and unrivaled purity of +outline, seem the symbol of the magic power, the mysterious dominion, +that the human spirit holds and exercises, without the intervention of +material force, over all those visible things that are the creation of +God by a direct act of his will, and which man, as the instrument of +God, improves and completes. It would be impossible to suppose that any +one with hands like Pepita's should have an impure thought, a gross +desire, an unworthy purpose at variance with the purity of the hands +that would be called upon to put them into effect.</p> + +<p>It is unnecessary to say that my father appeared as much charmed with +Pepita, and she as attentive and affectionate toward him, as always; +though her affection seemed, perhaps, of a character more filial than he +could have wished. The fact is, that my father, notwithstanding the +reputation he has of being in general but little respectful or reverent +toward women, treats this one woman with such respect and consideration +that not even Amadis, in the most devoted period of his wooing, showed +greater toward Oriana. Not a single word that might shock the ear, no +indelicate or inopportune compliment, no coarse jest, of the kind the +Andalusians permit themselves so frequently to employ, does he ever +indulge in. Hardly does he dare say to Pepita, "What beautiful eyes you +have!" and, indeed, should he say so, he would only speak the truth, for +Pepita's eyes are large, green as those of Circe, expressive, and well +shaped. And what enhances their beauty is that she seems unaware of all +this, for there is not to be detected in her the slightest wish to +please or attract any one by the sweetness of her glances. One would say +she thought eyes were only made to see with, and for no other purpose; +the contrary of what I suppose to be the opinion, according to what I +have heard, of the greater number of young and pretty women, who use +their eyes as a weapon of offense, or as a sort of electric battery, by +means of which to subdue hearts and captivate them. Not like those, +indeed, are Pepita's eyes, wherein dwell a peace and a serenity as of +heaven. And yet it can not be said that there is anything of coldness in +their glance. Her eyes are full of charity and sweetness. They rest with +tenderness on a ray of light, on a flower, on the commonest object in +nature; but with greater tenderness still, with signs of a softer +feeling, more human and benign, do they rest on her fellow-man, without +his daring to imagine in that tranquil and serene glance, however young +or handsome or conceited he may be, anything more than charity and love +toward a fellow-man, or, at most, a friendly preference.</p> + +<p>I sometimes wonder if all this can be studied, and if Pepita be, in +truth, an accomplished actress; but the acting would be so perfect, and +so purposeless the play, that it seems to me, after all, impossible that +this should be the case. Nature herself it is, then, who serves as +teacher and as type for that glance and for those eyes. First, Pepita +loved her mother; then circumstances led her to love Don Gumersindo +through duty, as the companion of her existence; and then, doubtless, +all passion that any earthly object could inspire was extinguished in +her breast, and she loved God, and loved material objects for the love +of God; and so arrived at last at a peaceful and even enviable +condition of spirit, in which, if there be anything to censure, it is +perhaps a certain vanity of which she is herself unconscious. It is very +convenient to love in this mild fashion, without allowing ourselves to +be disturbed by our feelings, to have no passion to combat, to make of +our love and affection for others an addition to, and, as it were, the +complement of self-love.</p> + +<p>I ask myself at times if, when I censure this state of mind in Pepita, +it be not myself I censure. How do I know what passes in the soul of +this woman that I should censure her? Perhaps, in thinking I behold her +soul, it is my own soul that I behold. I never had nor have I now any +passion to conquer. All my virtuous inclinations, all my instincts, good +or bad, tend, thanks to your wise teachings, without obstacle or +impediment, to the furtherance of the one purpose. In the fulfillment of +this purpose, I should find not only my noble and disinterested desires, +but my selfish ones also, satisfied—my love of glory, my desire for +knowledge, my curiosity to see distant lands, my longing for name and +fame. All these are centered in the completing of the career upon which +I have entered. I fancy at times that, in this respect, I am more worthy +of censure than Pepita, supposing her even to be worthy of censure at +all.</p> + +<p>For, as regards myself, I have been invested with the lesser orders; I +have cast out from my soul the vanities of the world; I have received +the tonsure; I have consecrated myself to the service of the altar. Yet +I have a future full of ambition before me, and I dwell with pleasure on +the thought that this future is within my reach. I please myself in +thinking that the conditions I possess for it are real and efficacious; +though I call humility to my aid, at times, to save me from an +overweening self-confidence.</p> + +<p>To what, on the other hand, does this woman aspire, and what are her +hopes? I censure her for the care she takes of her hands, for regarding +her beauty, perhaps, with complacency; I almost censure her for her +neatness, for the attention she bestows on her dress; for a certain +indefinable coquetry there is in the very modesty and simplicity of her +attire. But what! must virtue be slovenly? Must holiness be unclean? Can +not a pure and clean soul rejoice in the cleanliness and purity of the +body also? Is there not something reprehensible in the displeasure with +which I regard the neatness and purity of Pepita? Is this displeasure, +perchance, because she is to be my step-mother? But, perhaps, she does +not wish to be my step-mother! Perhaps she does not love my father! It +is true, indeed, that women are incomprehensible. It may be that in her +secret heart she already feels inclined to return my father's +affection, and marry him, though, in accordance with the saying that +"what is worth much, costs much," she chooses first to torment him with +her affected coldness, to reduce him to unquestioning submission, to put +his constancy to the proof, and then means to end by quietly saying Yes. +We shall see.</p> + +<p>What there is no question about is, that our garden-party was decorously +merry. We talked of flowers, of fruit, of grafts, of planting, and of +innumerable other things relating to husbandry, Pepita displaying her +knowledge of agriculture in rivalry with my father, with myself, and +with the reverend vicar, who listens with open mouth to every word she +utters, and declares that in the seventy-odd years of his life, and +during his many wanderings, in the course of which he has traversed +almost the whole of Andalusia, he has never known a woman more discreet +or more judicious in all she thinks and says than she.</p> + +<p>On returning home from any of these excursions, I renew my entreaties to +my father to allow me to go back to you, in order that the wished-for +moment may at last arrive in which I shall see myself elevated to the +priesthood. But my father is so pleased to have me with him, he is so +happy here in the village, taking care of his plantations, exercising +the judicial and executive authority of squire, paying homage to Pepita, +and consulting her in everything as his Egeria, that he always finds, +and will find perhaps for months to come, some plausible pretext to keep +me here. Now he has to clarify the wine of I know not how many casks; +now he has to decant more wine still; now it is necessary to hoe around +the vines; now to plow the olive-groves and dig around the roots of the +olives; in fine, he keeps me here against my wishes—though I should not +say "against my wishes," for it gives me great pleasure to be with my +father, who is so good to me.</p> + +<p>The evil is, that, with this way of life, I fear I shall grow too +material. I am conscious in my devotions of a certain aridity of spirit. +My religious fervor diminishes; common life begins to penetrate, to +infiltrate itself into my nature; when I pray, I suffer distractions; in +my solitary meditations, when the soul should raise itself up to God, I +can no longer concentrate my thought as formerly. My sensibility of +heart, on the other hand, that refuses to occupy itself with any worthy +object, that does not employ and consume itself on its legitimate ends, +wells forth and, as it were, overflows, at times, for objects and under +circumstances that have something in them of puerile, that seem to me +ridiculous, of which I am ashamed. If I awaken in the silence of the +night and hear by chance some love-lorn rustic singing, to the sound of +his badly played guitar, a verse of a <i>fandango</i> or a <i>rondeña</i>, neither +very discreet, nor very poetical, nor very delicate, I am wont to be +affected as if I were listening to some celestial melody; a feeling of +pity, childish and insensate, comes over me at times. The other day the +children of my father's overseer stole a nest full of young sparrows, +and on seeing the little birds, not yet fledged, torn thus violently +from their tender mother, I felt a sudden pang of anguish, and I confess +I could not restrain my tears. A few days before this, a peasant had +brought in from the fields a calf that had broken its leg; he was about +to carry it to the slaughter-house, and came to ask my father what part +of it he wished for his table. My father answered, the head and the +feet, and a few pounds of the flesh. I was touched by compassion on +seeing the calf, and, but that shame prevented me, would have bought it +from the man, in the hope of curing and keeping it alive. In fine, my +dear uncle, nothing less than the confidence I have with you would make +me recount to you these signs of an extravagant and restless emotion, so +that you may judge by them how necessary it is that I should return to +my former way of life, to my studies, to my lofty speculations, and be +at last elevated to the priesthood, in order to provide with its fit and +proper aliment the fire that consumes my soul.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>April 14th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>I continue to lead the same life as usual, and am detained here still by +my father's entreaties.</p> + +<p>The greatest pleasure I enjoy, after that of being with him, is my +intercourse and conversation with the reverend vicar, with whom I am in +the habit of taking long walks. It seems incredible that a man of his +age—for he must be near eighty—should be so strong and active, and so +good a walker. I grow tired sooner than he; and there is no rough road, +no wild place, no rugged hill-top, in the neighborhood, where we have +not been.</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar is reconciling me, in a great degree, with the +Spanish clergy, whom I have stigmatized, at times, in speaking with you, +as but little enlightened. How much more to be admired, I often say to +myself, is this man, so full of candor and benevolence, so simple and +affectionate, than one who may have read many books, but in whose soul +the flame of charity burns less brightly than, fed by the purest and +sincerest faith, it does in his! Do not suppose from this that the +understanding of the reverend vicar is a limited one; his is a spirit +uncultured, indeed, but clear and sagacious. At times I fancy that the +good opinion I entertain of him may be due to the attention with which +he listens to me; but, if this be not the case, it seems to me that he +reasons on every subject with remarkable perspicacity, and that he knows +how to unite an ardent love of our holy religion with an appreciation of +all the good things that modern civilization has brought us. I am +charmed, above all, by the simplicity, the sobriety of sentiment, the +naturalness, in short, with which the reverend vicar performs the most +disagreeable works of charity. There is no misfortune he does not seek +to alleviate, no suffering he does not strive to console, no error he +does not endeavor to repair, no necessity which he does not hasten +solicitously to relieve.</p> + +<p>In all this, it must be confessed, he has a powerful auxiliary in +Pepita, whose piety and compassionate disposition he is always +extolling.</p> + +<p>This species of homage which the vicar pays to Pepita is founded upon, +and goes side by side with, the practice of a thousand good works—the +giving of alms, prayer, public worship, and the care of the poor. Pepita +not only gives alms for the poor, but also gives money for <i>novenas</i>, +sermons, and other observances of the Church. If the altars of the +parish are gay, at times, with beautiful flowers, these flowers are due +to the bounty of Pepita who has sent them from her garden. If Our Lady +of Sorrows, instead of her old worn cloak, wears to-day a resplendent +and magnificent mantle of black velvet, embroidered with silver, Pepita +it is who has paid for it.</p> + +<p>These, and other similar acts of beneficence, the vicar is always +extolling and magnifying. Thus it is, when I am not speaking of my own +aims, of my vocation, of my studies, to hear about which gives the +reverend vicar great delight, and keeps him hanging upon my words, when +it is he who speaks and I who listen, that, after a thousand turns, he +always ends by speaking of Pepita Ximenez. And of whom, indeed, should +the reverend vicar speak to me? His intercourse with the doctor, with +the apothecary, with the rich husbandmen of the place, hardly gives +motive for three words of conversation. As the reverend vicar possesses +the very rare quality, in one bred in the country, of not being fond of +scandal, or of meddling in other people's affairs, he has no one to +speak of but Pepita, whom he visits frequently, and with whom, as may be +gathered from what he says, he is in the habit of holding the most +familiar colloquies.</p> + +<p>I know not what books Pepita Ximenez has read, nor what education she +may have received; but, from what the reverend vicar says, it may be +deduced that she possesses a restless soul and an inquiring spirit, to +which a multiplicity of questions and problems present themselves that +she longs to elucidate and resolve, bringing them for that purpose +before the reverend vicar, whom she thus puts into a state of agreeable +perplexity.</p> + +<p>This man, educated in country fashion, a priest whose breviary is, as +one may say, his library, possesses an understanding open to the light +of truth, but is wanting in original power, and thus the problems and +questions Pepita presents to him open before him new horizons and new +paths, nebulous and vague indeed, and which he did not even imagine to +exist, which he is not able to follow with exactitude, but whose +vagueness, novelty, and mystery enchant him.</p> + +<p>The vicar is not ignorant of the danger of all this, and that he and +Pepita expose themselves to fall, without knowing it, into some heresy; +but he tranquillizes his conscience with the thought that, although very +far from being a great theologian, he has his catechism at his fingers' +ends, he has confidence in God that he will illuminate his spirit, and +he hopes not to be led into error, and takes it for granted that Pepita +will follow his counsels, and never deviate from the right path.</p> + +<p>Thus do both form to themselves a thousand poetical conceptions, full of +charm, although vague, of all the mysteries of our religion and the +articles of our faith. Great is the devotion they profess to the most +holy Virgin, and I am astonished to see how they are able to blend the +popular idea or conception of the Virgin with some of the sublimest +theological thoughts.</p> + +<p>From what the vicar relates, I can perceive that Pepita Ximenez's soul, +in the midst of its apparent calmness and serenity, is transfixed by the +sharp arrow of suffering; there is in it a love of purity in +contradiction with her past life. Pepita loved Don Gumersindo as her +companion, as her benefactor, as the man to whom she owed everything; +but she is tortured, she is humiliated by the recollection that Don +Gumersindo was her husband.</p> + +<p>In her devotion to the Virgin there may be detected a feeling of painful +humiliation, of suffering, of sadness, produced by the recollection of +her ignoble and childless marriage.</p> + +<p>Even in her adoration of the <i>Infant Jesus</i>, in the beautiful carved +image she has in her house, there is something of maternal love that +lacks an object on which to expend its tenderness, of maternal love that +seeks this object in a being not born of sin and impurity.</p> + +<p>The vicar says that Pepita worships the <i>Infant Jesus</i> as her God, but +that she also loves him with the maternal tenderness she would feel for +a son, if she had one, and whom she had no cause to regard with any +other feeling than affection. The vicar sees that Pepita, in her prayers +to the Holy Virgin, and in her care of her beautiful image of the Child +Jesus, has in her thoughts the ideal Mother and the ideal Son, both +alike immaculate.</p> + +<p>I confess that I know not what to think of all these singularities. I +know so little of women! What the vicar tells me of Pepita surprises me; +and yet, though on the whole I believe her to be good, rather than the +contrary, she inspires me at times with a certain fear on my father's +account. Notwithstanding his fifty-five years, I believe that he is in +love; and Pepita, although virtuous through conviction, may, without +premeditating or intending it, be an instrument of the spirit of evil, +may practice a species of coquetry, involuntary and instinctive, more +irresistible, efficacious, and fatal, than that which proceeds from +premeditation, calculation, and reasoning.</p> + +<p>Who knows, I say to myself at times, notwithstanding her prayers, her +secluded and devout life, her alms and her gifts to the churches, on all +which is based the affection that the vicar entertains for her, if there +be not also an earthly spell, if there be not something of diabolical +magic in the arts she practices, and with which she deludes and beguiles +this simple vicar, so that he thinks and speaks only of her on all +occasions?</p> + +<p>The very influence that Pepita exercises over a man so incredulous as my +father, a man whose nature is so vigorous and so little sentimental, +has in it, in truth, something extraordinary.</p> + +<p>Nor do the good works of Pepita suffice to explain the respect and +affection with which she inspires these country-people in general. On +the rare occasions on which she leaves her house, the little children +run to meet her and kiss her hand; the young girls smile, and salute her +with affection; and the men take off their hats, as she passes, and +incline themselves before her with the most spontaneous reverence and +the most natural good-feeling.</p> + +<p>Pepita Ximenez, whom many of the villagers have known since she was +born, and who, to the knowledge of every one here, lived in poverty with +her mother, until her marriage to the decrepid and avaricious Don +Gumersindo, has caused all this to be forgotten, and is now looked upon +as a wondrous being, a visitant, pure and radiant, from some distant +land, from some higher sphere, and is regarded by her fellow-townspeople +with affectionate esteem, and something like loving admiration.</p> + +<p>I see that I am inadvertently falling into the same fault that I censure +in the reverend vicar, and that I speak to you of nothing but Pepita. +But this is natural. Here no one speaks of anything else. One would +suppose the whole place to be full of the spirit, of the thought, of +the image, of this singular woman, in regard to whom I have not been +able to determine if she be an angel or an accomplished coquette, full +of <i>instinctive astuteness</i>, although the words may seem to involve a +contradiction. For I am fully convicted in my own mind that this woman +does not play the coquette, nor seek to gain the good-will of others, in +order to gratify her vanity.</p> + +<p>Pepita's soul is full of candor and sincerity. One has only to see her, +to be convinced of this. Her dignified and graceful bearing, her slender +figure, the smoothness and clearness of her forehead head, the soft and +pure light of her eyes, all blend into a fitting harmony, in which there +is not a single discordant note.</p> + +<p>How deeply I regret having come to this place, and having remained here +so long! I had passed my life in your house, and in the seminary; I had +seen and known no one but my companions and my teachers; I knew nothing +of the world but through speculation and through theory; and suddenly I +find myself thrown into the midst of this world, though it be only that +of a village; and distracted from my studies, meditations, and prayers +by a thousand profane objects.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>April 20th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Your last letters, dearest uncle, have been a welcome consolation to my +soul. Benevolent, as always, you admonish and enlighten me with prudent +and useful reflections.</p> + +<p>It is true, my impetuosity is worthy of reprobation. I wish to attain my +aims, without making use of the means requisite to their attainment; I +wish to reach the journey's end, without first treading, step by step, +the rough and thorny path.</p> + +<p>I complain of an aridity of spirit in prayer, of inability to fix my +thoughts, of a proneness to dissipate my tenderness on childish objects; +I desire to elevate myself to and be absorbed in God, to attain at once +to the contemplation of essential being, and yet I disdain mental prayer +and rational and discursive meditation. How, without attaining to its +purity, how, without beholding its light, can I hope to enjoy the +delights of divine love?</p> + +<p>I am by nature arrogant, and I shall therefore endeavor to humiliate +myself in my own eyes, in order that God may not suffer the spirit of +evil, in punishment of my pride and presumption, to cover me with +humiliation.</p> + +<p>I do not believe that it would be easy for me to fall into a lapse from +virtue so shameful and unexpected as the one you fear. I do not confide +in myself; I confide in the mercy of God and in his grace; and I trust +they will not fail me.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, you are altogether right in advising me to abstain from +forming ties of friendship with Pepita Ximenez; I am far enough from +being bound to her by any tie.</p> + +<p>I am not ignorant that, when those holy men and saints, who should serve +us as models and examples, were bound in close intimacy and affection +with women, it was in their old age, or when they were already proved +and disciplined by penitence, or when there existed a noticeable +disproportion in years between them and the pious women they elected to +be their friends; as is related of St. Jerome and St. Paulina, and of +St. John of the Cross and St. Theresa. And even thus, even with a purely +spiritual affection, I know it is possible to sin through excess. For +God only should occupy the soul as Lord and Spouse, and any other being +who dwells in it should do so but as the friend, the servant, the +creation of the Spouse, and as one in whom the Spouse delights.</p> + +<p>Do not think, however, that I vaunt myself on being invincible, that I +despise danger, and defy and seek it. He who loves danger shall perish +therein. And if the prophet-king, though so agreeable in the sight of +God and so favored of him, and Solomon, notwithstanding his supernatural +and God-given wisdom, were troubled and fell into sin because God turned +his face away from them, what have not I to fear, miserable sinner that +I am, so young, so inexperienced in the wiles of the devil, and so +wavering and unpracticed in the combats of virtue!</p> + +<p>Filled with a salutary fear of God, and imbued with a fitting distrust +of my own weakness, I shall not be forgetful of your counsels and your +prudent admonitions; and I shall pray, meantime, with fervor, and +meditate on holy things, in order to abhor the things of the world, in +so far as they deserve abhorrence; but of this I may assure you: that, +however deeply I penetrate into the depths of my conscience, however +carefully I search its inmost recesses, I have thus far discovered +nothing to make me share your fears.</p> + +<p>If my former letters are full of encomiums on the virtue of Pepita, it +is the fault of my father and of the reverend vicar, and not mine; for, +at first, far from being friendly to this woman, I was unjustly +prejudiced against her.</p> + +<p>As for the beauty and physical grace of Pepita, be assured that I have +contemplated them with entire purity of thought, and, though it cost me +something to say it, and may cost you a little to hear it, I confess +that, if any cloud has arisen to dim the clear and serene image of +Pepita in the mirror of my soul, it has been owing to your harsh +suspicions, which, for an instant, have almost made me suspect myself.</p> + +<p>But no; what thought have I ever entertained with regard to Pepita, what +have I seen or praised in her that should lead any one to suppose me to +have any other feeling for her than friendship, and the admiration, pure +and innocent, that a work of art may inspire, the more especially if it +be the work of the Supreme Artist, and nothing less than the temple +wherein he dwells?</p> + +<p>Besides, dear uncle, I shall have to live in the world, to hold +intercourse with my fellow-beings, to see them, and I can not, for that +reason, pluck out my eyes. You have told me many times that you wish me +to devote myself to a life of action, preaching the divine law, and +making it known in the world, rather than to a contemplative life in the +midst of solitude and isolation. Well, then, this being so, how would +you have me act, in order to avoid seeing Pepita Ximenez? Unless I made +myself ridiculous by closing my own eyes in her presence, how could I +fail to notice the beauty of hers; the clearness, the roseate hue, and +the purity of her complexion, the evenness and pearly whiteness of her +teeth, which she discloses with frequency when she smiles, the fresh +carmin of her lips, the serenity and smoothness of her forehead, and a +thousand other attractions with which Heaven has endowed her? It is true +that for one who bears within his soul the germ of evil thoughts, the +leaven of vice, any one of the impressions that Pepita produces might be +the shock of the steel against the flint, kindling the spark that would +set fire to and consume all around it; but, prepared for this danger, +watching against it, and guarded with the shield of Christian prudence, +I do not think I have anything to fear. Besides, if it be rash to seek +danger, it is cowardly not to be able to face it, or to shun it when it +presents itself.</p> + +<p>Have no fear; I see in Pepita only a beautiful creation of God; and in +God I love her as a sister. If I feel any predilection for her, it is +because of the praises I hear spoken of her by my father, by the +reverend vicar, and by almost every one here.</p> + +<p>For my father's sake it would please me were Pepita to relinquish her +inclination for a life of seclusion, and her purpose to lead it, and to +marry him. But were it not for this—were I to see that my father had +only a caprice and not a genuine passion for her—then I should be glad +that Pepita would remain resolute in her chaste widowhood; and when I +should be far away from here, in India or Japan or some other yet more +dangerous mission, I might find a consolation in writing to her of my +wanderings and labors; and, when I returned here in my old age, it +would be a great pleasure for me to be on friendly terms with her, who +would also then be aged, and to hold spiritual colloquies with her, and +chats of the same sort as those the father vicar now holds with her. At +present, however, as I am but a young man, I see but little of Pepita; I +hardly speak to her. I prefer to be thought bashful, shy, ill-bred, and +rude, rather than give the least occasion—not that I should be thought +to feel for her in reality what I ought not to feel—but even for +suspicion or for scandal.</p> + +<p>As for Pepita herself, not even in the most remote degree do I share the +apprehension that, as a vague suspicion, you allow me to perceive. What +projects could she form with respect to a man who, in two or three +months more, is to be a priest! She—who has treated so many others with +disdain—why should she be attracted by me? I know myself well, and I +know that, fortunately, I am not capable of inspiring a passion. They +say I am not ill-looking; but I am awkward, dull, shy, wanting in +amiability; I bear the stamp of what I am, a humble student. What am I, +compared with the gallant if somewhat rustic youths who have paid court +to Pepita—agile horsemen, discreet and agreeable in conversation, +Nimrods in the chase, skilled in all bodily exercises, singers of renown +in all the fairs of Andalusia, and graceful and accomplished in the +dance? If Pepita has scorned all these, how should she now think of me, +and conceive the diabolical desire, and the more than diabolical +project, of troubling the peace of my soul, of making me abandon my +vocation, perhaps of plunging me into perdition? No, it is not possible. +Pepita I believe to be good, and myself—and I say it in all +sincerity—insignificant; insignificant, be it understood, so far as +inspiring her with love is concerned, but not too insignificant to be +her friend, to merit her esteem, to be the object, one day, in a certain +sense, of her preference, when I shall have succeeded in making myself +worthy of this preference by a holy and laborious life.</p> + +<p>I ask you to forgive me if I have vindicated myself too warmly from +certain half-expressed suspicions in your letter—suspicions that sound +like accusations, or like prophetic warnings.</p> + +<p>I do not complain of these suspicions: you have given me judicious +advice, the greater part of which I accept, and intend to follow; if you +have gone a little beyond what is just, in your suspicions, it is owing, +without doubt, to the interest you take in me, and for which I am +grateful to you with all my heart.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 4th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>It is strange that in so many days I should not have had time to write +to you, but such is the fact. My father does not let me rest a moment, +and I am besieged by visitors.</p> + +<p>In large cities it is easy to avoid seeing visitors, to isolate one's +self, to create for one's self a solitude, a Thebaid in the midst of the +tumult; in an Andalusian village, and, above all, when one has the honor +of being the son of the squire, it is necessary to live in public. Not +only now to my study, but even to my bedroom, do the reverend vicar, the +notary, my cousin Currito, the son of Doña Casilda, and a hundred +others, penetrate without any one daring to oppose them, waken me if I +am asleep, and carry me off with them wherever they wish.</p> + +<p>The club-house here is not a place of amusement for the evening only, +but for all the hours of the day. From eleven o'clock in the morning it +is full of people, who chat, glance over a paper to learn the news, and +play at <i>hombra.</i> There are persons here who spend ten or twelve hours a +day at this game. In short, there is as much enjoyment here as one could +well desire. In order that this enjoyment may be uninterrupted, there +are a great many amusements. Besides <i>hombra,</i> there are many other +games at cards. Checkers, chess, and dominoes are not neglected. And, +finally, there is a decided passion for cock-fighting.</p> + +<p>All this, together with making calls, going to the fields to inspect the +work, settling accounts every night with the overseer, visiting the +wine-vaults and cask-stores, superintending the clarifying, decanting, +and perfecting of the wines, treating with gypsies and horse-dealers for +the purchase, sale, or barter of horses, mules, and donkeys, or with +dealers from Jeres who come to buy our wine in order to convert it into +sherry, are here the daily occupation of the gentry, squirearchy, or +whatever else they may choose to call themselves. On extraordinary +occasions there are other tasks and amusements that give a greater +appearance of animation to everything: as in harvest-time, at the +vintage, and the gathering in of the olives; or when there is a fair or +a bull-fight, either here or in the neighboring village; or when there +is a pilgrimage to the sanctuary of some miraculous image of the Holy +Virgin, where, if it be true that many go through curiosity, or to amuse +themselves, and give to their sweethearts a fairing of a Cupid or a +scapula, many more go through devotion, or in fulfillment of a vow or +promise. One of these sanctuaries is situated at the top of a very high +mountain, yet there are delicate women who, to reach it, will climb, +with bare feet, wounded by the stones and brambles, the steep and +rugged path that leads to it.</p> + +<p>There is, in the life here, a certain charm. For one who has no desire +for fame, no ambition, I can understand that it might be a very easy and +agreeable life. Even solitude may be obtained by an effort. As I am here +only for a short time, I can neither make this effort, nor ought I to do +so; but if I were settled here, I should find no difficulty in secluding +myself—and that, too, without offending any one—for several hours, or +for the whole day, if it were necessary, in order to devote myself to my +studies and meditations.</p> + +<p>Your last letter has troubled me a little. I see that you persist in +your suspicions, and I know not what answer to make, in order to justify +myself, but the answer I have already made you.</p> + +<p>You say that the victory, in a certain kind of warfare, consists in +flight; that to fly is to conquer. Why should I seek to deny what the +apostle and so many holy fathers and doctors of the Church have said? +But you well know that, in this case, flight does not depend upon me. My +father is resolved that I shall not go; he keeps me here against my +will, and I must obey him. The victory must be gained by other means, +then, than by flight.</p> + +<p>To set your mind at rest, I repeat that matters have not gone so far as +you think; that you see them in a much more advanced stage than they +really are.</p> + +<p>There is not the slightest sign that Pepita Ximenez loves me. And even +did she love me, it would be in a different way from that in which those +women loved whom you cite as a salutary warning to me. A lady of our +times, virtuous and well brought up, is neither so susceptible nor so +wanting in decorum as those matrons of whose adventures ancient history +is full.</p> + +<p>The passage you cite from St. John Chrysostom is indeed worthy of +consideration; but it is not altogether applicable to the circumstances. +The great lady that in Of, Thebes, or Diospolis Magna, fell in love with +the favorite son of Jacob, was in all probability extremely handsome. By +such a supposition only can one comprehend the words of the saint, that +it was a greater miracle that Joseph should have passed through this +ordeal unscathed, than that the three young men whom Nebuchadnezzar +caused to be placed in the fiery furnace were not reduced to ashes!</p> + +<p>As far as beauty is concerned, I confess frankly that I can not think +that the wife of the Egyptian prince, chamberlain of the palace of the +Pharaohs, or whatever else may have been his title, was in any degree +superior to Pepita Ximenez. But neither am I endowed with as many gifts +and excellences as was Joseph, nor is Pepita a woman without religion +and without decorum. And even were the circumstances such as he relates, +were all those horrors true, I can only account for the exaggerated +language of St. John Chrysostom by the fact that he lived in the corrupt +capital, half Gentile still, of the Lower Empire, in the midst of that +court whose vices he so harshly censures, and where even the Empress +Eudoxia herself gave an example of scandal and corruption.</p> + +<p>But in our day, when the morality taught in the gospel has penetrated +more deeply into the strata of society, it seems to me an exaggeration +to think the chaste scorn of the son of Jacob any more miraculous than +the material incombustibility of the three young men of Babylon.</p> + +<p>There is one point on which you touch in your letter that encourages and +pleases me greatly. You condemn, as is right, the exaggerated +sentimentality, and the tendency to be easily moved and to weep from +childish motives, from which I told you that I suffered at times; but, +since this disposition of soul, so necessary to combat, exists in me, +you rejoice that it does not affect my prayers and meditations, and +contaminate them. You recognize and praise in me the virile energy that +should animate the passions and the mind that seek to elevate themselves +to God.</p> + +<p>The intelligence that strives to comprehend him must be a vigorous one; +the will that submits itself entirely to him must first have triumphed, +fighting bravely against every appetite, and defeating and putting to +flight every temptation over self. The very passion that, purified and +ardent, has power, even in weak and miserable mortals, to exalt itself, +by an ecstasy of love, to God himself, attaining by a supernatural +illumination to the knowledge of him, is the offspring of a steadfast +and upright character, as well as of the divine grace. This languor, +this debility of the will, this morbid tenderness have nothing in them +in common with charity, with piety, or with divine love. The former are +the attributes of a nature less than feminine; the latter are passions, +if passions they can be called, of angels rather than of men. God will +be my surety, and with his help I will fight for my own salvation. But, +should I sink into perdition, not in disguise nor by capitulation shall +the enemies of the soul and the sins of the flesh enter into the +fortress of my conscience, but with banners flying, laying waste +everything before them by fire and sword, and after a desperate +conflict.</p> + +<p>In the past few days I have had occasion to practice patience in an +extreme degree, and to mortify my self-love in the most cruel manner. My +father, wishing to reciprocate Pepita's compliment of the garden-party, +invited her to visit his villa of the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i>. The excursion +took place on the 22d of April. I shall not soon forget that date.</p> + +<p>The <i>Pozo de la Solana</i> is about two leagues distant from the village, +and the only road to it is a bridle-path. We all had to go on horseback. +As I never learned to ride, I had on former occasions accompanied my +father mounted on a pacing mule, gentle and, according to the expression +of Dientes the muleteer, as good as gold, and of easier motion than a +carriage. On the journey to the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i> I went in the same +manner.</p> + +<p>My father, the notary, the apothecary, and my cousin Currito, were +mounted on good horses. My aunt, Doña Casilda, who weighs more than two +hundred and fifty pounds, rode on a large and powerful donkey, seated in +a commodious side-saddle. The reverend vicar rode a gentle and easy mule +like mine.</p> + +<p>As for Pepita Ximenez, who, I supposed, would go also mounted on a +donkey, in the same sort of easy saddle as my aunt—for I was ignorant +that she knew how to ride—she surprised me by making her appearance on +a black and white horse full of fire and spirit. She wore a +riding-habit, and managed her horse with admirable grace and skill.</p> + +<p>I was pleased to see Pepita look so charming on horseback, but I soon +began to foresee and to be mortified by the sorry part I would play, +jogging on in the rear beside my corpulent aunt Casilda and the vicar, +all three as quiet and tranquil as if we were seated in a carriage, +while the gay cavalcade in front would caracole, gallop, trot, and make +a thousand other displays of their horsemanship.</p> + +<p>I fancied on the instant that there was something of compassion in +Pepita's glance as she noted the pitiable appearance I no doubt +presented, seated on my mule. My cousin Currito looked at me with a +mocking smile, and immediately began to make fun of me and to tease me.</p> + +<p>Confess that I deserve credit for my resignation and courage. I +submitted to everything with a good grace, and Currito's jests soon +ceased when he saw that I was invulnerable to them. But what did I not +suffer in secret! The others, now trotting, now galloping, rode in +advance of us, both in going and returning. The vicar and I, with Doña +Casilda between us, rode on, tranquil as the mules we were seated upon, +without hastening or retarding our pace.</p> + +<p>I had not even the consolation of chatting with the vicar, in whose +conversation I find so much pleasure, nor of wrapping myself up in my +own thoughts and giving the reign to my fancy, nor of silently admiring +the beauty of the scenery around us. Doña Casilda is gifted with an +abominable loquacity, and we were obliged to listen to her. She told us +all there is to be told of the gossip of the village; she recounted to +us all her accomplishments; she told us how to make sausages, +brain-puddings, pastry, and innumerable other dishes and delicacies. +There is no one, according to herself, who can rival her in matters +pertaining to the kitchen, or to the dressing of hogs, but Antoñona, the +nurse of Pepita, and now her housekeeper and general manager. I am +already acquainted with this Antoñona, for she goes back and forth +between her mistress's house and ours with messages, and is in truth +extremely handy; as loquacious as Aunt Casilda, but a great deal more +discreet.</p> + +<p>The scenery on the road to the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i> is charming, but my +mind was so disturbed during our journey that I could not enjoy it. When +we arrived at the villa and dismounted, I was relieved of a great load, +as if it had been I who carried the mule, and not the mule who carried +me.</p> + +<p>We then proceeded on foot through the estate, which is magnificent, of +varied character, and extensive. There are vines, old and newly planted, +all on the same boundary-line, that produce more than a hundred and +twenty bushels of grapes; olive-trees that yield to the same amount; +and, finally, a grove of the most majestic oaks that are to be found in +all Andalusia. The water of the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i> forms a clear and +deep brook at which all the birds of the neighborhood come to drink, and +on whose borders they are caught by hundreds, by means of reeds smeared +with bird-lime, or of nets, in the center of which are fastened a cord +and a decoy. All this carried my thoughts back to the sports of my +childhood, and to the many times that I too had gone to catch birds in +the same manner.</p> + +<p>Following the course of the brook, and especially in the ravines, are +many poplars and other tall trees, that, together with the bushes and +the shrubs, form a dark and labyrinthine wood. A thousand fragrant wild +flowers grow there spontaneously, and it would, in truth, be difficult +to imagine anything more secluded and sylvan, more solitary, peaceful, +and silent than this spot. The mind is invaded here, during all the +fervor of noonday, when the sun pours down his light in torrents from a +heaven without a cloud, by the same mysterious terror that visits it at +times in the silent hours of the night. One can understand here the +manner of life of the patriarchs of old, and of the primitive shepherds +and heroes; and the visions and apparitions that appeared to them of +nymphs, of gods, and of angels, in the midst of the noonday brightness.</p> + +<p>As we walked through this thicket, there arrived a moment in which, I +know not how, Pepita and I found ourselves alone together. The others +had remained behind.</p> + +<p>I felt a sudden thrill pass through me. For the first time, and in a +place so solitary, I found myself alone with this woman, while my +thoughts were still dwelling on the noontide apparitions, now sinister, +now gracious, but always supernatural, vouchsafed to the men of remote +ages.</p> + +<p>Pepita had left the long skirt of her riding-habit in the house, and now +wore a short dress that did not interfere with the graceful ease of her +movements. She had on her head a little Andalusian hat, which became her +extremely. She carried in her hand her riding-whip, which I fancied to +myself to be a magic wand by means of which this enchantress might cast +her spells over me.</p> + +<p>I am not afraid to transcribe here these eulogies of her beauty. In this +sylvan scene she appeared to me more beautiful than ever. The precaution +recommended in similar cases by ascetics, to think of her beauty +defaced by sickness and old age, to picture her to myself dead, the prey +of corruption and of the worm, presented itself, against my will, to my +imagination; and I say <i>against my will</i>, for I do not concur in the +necessity for such a precaution. No thought of the material, no +suggestion of the evil spirit, troubled my reason, or infected my will +or my senses.</p> + +<p>What did occur to me was an argument, at least to my mind, in disproof +of the efficacy of this precaution. Beauty, the creation of a Sovereign +and Divine Power, may, indeed, be frail and ephemeral, may vanish in an +instant; but the idea of beauty is eternal, and, once perceived by the +mind, it lives there an immortal life. The beauty of this woman, such as +it manifests itself to-day, will disappear in a few short years; the +graceful form, those charming contours, the noble head that raises +itself so proudly above her shoulders, all will be food for loathsome +worms; but though the material must of necessity be transformed, its +idea, the thought through which it was created, abstract beauty, in a +word, who shall destroy this? Does it not exist in the Divine Mind? Once +perceived and known by me, shall it not continue to live in my soul, +triumphing over age and even over death?</p> + +<p>I was meditating thus, striving to tranquillize my spirit and to +dissipate the doubts which you have succeeded in infusing into my mind, +when Pepita and I encountered each other. I was pleased and at the same +time troubled to find myself alone with her—hoping and yet fearing that +the others would join us.</p> + +<p>The silvery voice of Pepita broke the silence, and drew me from my +meditations, saying:</p> + +<p>"How silent you are, Don Luis, and how sad! I am pained to think that it +is, perhaps, through my fault, or partly so at least, that your father +has caused you to spend a disagreeable day in these solitudes, taking +you away from a solitude more congenial, where there would be nothing to +distract your attention from your prayers and pious books."</p> + +<p>I know not what answer I made to this. It must have been something +nonsensical, for my mind was troubled. I did not wish to flatter Pepita +by paying her profane compliments, nor, on the other hand, did I wish to +answer her rudely.</p> + +<p>She continued:</p> + +<p>"You must forgive me if I am wrong, but I fancy that, in addition to the +annoyance of seeing yourself deprived to-day of your favorite +occupation, there is something else that powerfully contributes to your +ill-humor."</p> + +<p>"And what is this something else?" I said; "since you have discovered +it, or fancy you have done so."</p> + +<p>"This something else," responded Pepita, "is a feeling not altogether +becoming in one who is going to be a priest so soon, but very natural in +a young man of twenty-two."</p> + +<p>On hearing this I felt the blood mount to my face, and my face burn. I +imagined a thousand absurdities; I thought myself beset by evil spirits; +I fancied myself tempted by Pepita, who was doubtless about to let me +understand that she knew I loved her. Then my timidity gave place to +haughtiness, and I looked her steadily in the face. There must have been +something laughable in my look, but either Pepita did not observe it, +or, if she did, she concealed the fact with amiable discretion; for she +exclaimed, in the most natural manner:</p> + +<p>"Do not be offended because I find you are not without fault. This that +I have observed seems to me a slight one. You are hurt by the jests of +Currito, and by being compelled to play—speaking profanely—a not very +dignified <i>rôle</i>, mounted, like the reverend vicar with his eighty +years, on a placid mule, and not, as a youth of your age and condition +should be, on a spirited horse. The fault is the reverend dean's, to +whom it did not occur that you should learn to ride. To know how to +manage a horse is not opposed to the career you intend to follow, and I +think, now that you are here, that your father might in a few days give +you the necessary instruction to enable you to do so. If you should go +to Persia or to China, where there are no railroads yet, you will make +but a sorry figure in those countries as a bad horseman. It is possible, +even, that, through this want of foresight of the dean's, the missionary +himself may come to lose prestige in the eyes of those barbarians, which +will make it all the more difficult for him to reap the fruits of his +labors."</p> + +<p>This and other arguments Pepita adduced in order to persuade me to learn +to ride on horseback; and I was so convinced of the necessity of a +missionary's being a good horseman, that I promised her to learn at +once, taking my father for a teacher.</p> + +<p>"On the very next expedition we make," I said, "I shall ride the most +spirited horse my father has, instead of the mule I am riding to-day."</p> + +<p>"I shall be very glad of it," responded Pepita, with a smile of +indescribable sweetness.</p> + +<p>At this moment we were joined by the rest of the party, at which I was +secretly rejoiced, though for no other reason than the fear of not being +able to sustain the conversation, and of saying a great many foolish +things, on account of the little experience I have had in conversing +with women.</p> + +<p>After our walk my father's servants spread before us on the fresh grass, +in the most charming spot beside the brook, a rural and abundant +collation.</p> + +<p>The conversation was very animated, and Pepita sustained her part in it +with much discretion and intelligence. My cousin Currito returned to his +jests about my manner of riding and the meekness of my mule. He called +me a theologian, and said that, seated on mule-back, I looked as if I +were dispensing blessings. This time, however, being now firmly resolved +to learn to ride, I answered his jests with sarcastic indifference. I +was silent, nevertheless, with respect to the promise I had just made +Pepita. The latter, doubtless thinking as I did—although we had come to +no understanding in the matter—that silence for the present was +necessary to insure the complete success of the surprise that I would +create afterward by my knowledge of horsemanship, said nothing of our +conversation. Thus it happened, naturally and in the simplest manner, +that a secret existed between us; and it produced in my mind a singular +effect.</p> + +<p>Nothing else worth telling occurred during the day.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon we returned to the village in the same manner in which +we had left it. Yet, seated on my easy-going mule and at the side of my +aunt Casilda, I did not experience the same fatigue or sadness as +before.</p> + +<p>During the whole journey I listened without weariness to my aunt's +stories, amusing myself at times in conjuring up idle fancies. Nothing +of what passes in my soul shall be concealed from you. I confess, then, +that the figure of Pepita was, as it were, the center, or rather the +nucleus and focus of these idle fancies.—</p> + +<p>The noonday vision in which she had appeared to me in the shadiest and +most sequestered part of the grove, brought to my memory all the +visions, holy and unholy, of wondrous beings, of a condition superior to +ours, that I had read of in sacred authors and in the profane classics. +Pepita appeared to the eyes and on the stage of my fancy in foe, leafy +seclusion of the grove not as she rode before us on horseback but in an +ideal and ethereal fashion, as to Æneas his mother, as Minerva to +Callimachus, as the sylph who, afterward became the mother of Libusa to +the Bohemian Kroco, as Diana to the son of Aristæus, as the angels in +the valley of Mamre to the patriarch, as the hippocentaur to St. Anthony +in the solitude of the wilderness.</p> + +<p>That the vision of Pepita should assume in my mind something of a +supernatural character, seems to me no more to be wondered at than any +of these. For an instant, seeing the consistency of the illusion, I +thought myself tempted by evil spirits; but I reflected that in the few +moments, during which I had been alone with Pepita near the brook of the +Solana, nothing had occurred that was not natural and commonplace; that +it was afterward, as I rode along quietly on my mule, that some demon, +hovering invisible around me, had suggested these extravagant fancies.</p> + +<p>That night I told my father of my desire to learn to ride. I did not +wish to conceal from him that it was Pepita who had suggested this +desire. My father was greatly rejoiced; he embraced me, he kissed me, he +said that now not you only would be my teacher, but that he also would +have the pleasure of teaching me something. He ended by assuring me that +in two or three weeks he would make of me the best horseman of all +Andalusia; able to go to Gibraltar for contraband goods and come back +laden with tobacco and cotton, after eluding the vigilance of the +custom-house officers; fit, in a word, to astonish the riders who show +off their horsemanship in the fairs of Seville and Mairena, and worthy +to press the flanks of Babrecá, Bucephalus, or even of the horses of the +sun themselves, if they should by chance descend to earth, and I could +catch them by the bridle.</p> + +<p>I don't know what you will think of this notion of my learning to ride, +but I take it for granted you will see nothing wrong in it.</p> + +<p>If you could but see how happy my father is, and how he delights in +teaching me! Since the day after the excursion I told you of, I take two +lessons daily. There are days on which the lesson is continuous, for we +spend from morning till night on horseback. During the first week the +lessons took place in the court-yard of the house, which is unpaved, and +which served us as a riding-school.</p> + +<p>We now ride out into the country, but manage so that no one shall see +us. My father does not want me to show myself on horseback in public +until I am able to astonish every one by my fine appearance in the +saddle, as he says. If the vanity natural to a father does not deceive +him, this, it seems, will be very soon, for I have a wonderful aptitude +for riding.</p> + +<p>"It is easy to see that you are my son!" my father exclaims with joy, as +he watches my progress.</p> + +<p>My father is so good that I hope you will pardon him the profane +language and irreverent jests in which he indulges at times. I grieve +for this at the bottom of my soul, but I endure it with patience. These +constant and long-continued lessons have reduced me to a pitiable +condition with blisters. My father enjoins me to write to you that they +are caused by my flagellations.</p> + +<p>As he declares that within a few weeks I shall be an accomplished +horseman, and he does not desire to be superannuated as a master, he +proposes to teach me other accomplishments of a somewhat irregular +character, and sufficiently unsuited to a future priest. At times he +proposes to train me in throwing the bull in order that he may take me +afterward to Seville, where, with lance in hand, on the plains of +Tablada, I shall make the braggarts and the bullies stare. Then he +recalls his own youthful days, when he belonged to the body-guard, and +declares that he will look up his foils, gloves, and masks, and teach me +to fence. And, finally, as my father flatters himself that he can wield +the Sevillian knife better than any one else, he has offered to teach me +even this accomplishment also.</p> + +<p>You can already imagine the answer I make to all this nonsense. My +father replies that, in the good old times, not only the priests but +even the bishops themselves rode about the country on horseback, putting +infidels to the sword. I rejoin that this might happen in the dark ages, +but that in our days the ministers of the Most High should know how to +wield no other weapons than those of persuasion. "And what if persuasion +be not enough?" rejoins my father. "Do you think it would be amiss to +re-enforce argument with a few good blows of a cudgel?" The complete +missionary, according to my father's opinion, should know how, on +occasion, to have recourse to these heroic measures, and, as my father +has read a great many tales and romances, he cites various examples in +support of his opinion. He cites in the first place St. James, who, on +his white horse, without ceasing to be an apostle, puts the Moors to the +sword more frequently than he convinces or preaches to them; he cites a +certain Señor de la Vega who, being sent on an embassy to Boabdil by +Ferdinand and Isabella, became entangled in a theological discussion +with the Moors in the court-yard of the Lions, and, being at the end of +his arguments, drew his sword and fell upon them with fury in order to +complete their conversion; and he finally cites the Biscayan hidalgo, +Don Inigo de Loyola, who, in a controversy he had with a Moor, regarding +the purity of the Holy Virgin, growing weary at last of the impious and +horrible blasphemies with which the aforesaid Moor contradicted him, +fell upon him, sword in hand, and, if he had not taken to his heels, +would have enforced conviction upon his soul in a terrible fashion. In +regard to the incident relating to St. Ignatius, I answer my father that +this was before the saint became a priest; and in regard to the other +examples, I answer that historians are not agreed in the matter.</p> + +<p>In short, I defend myself as best I can against my father's jests, and I +content myself with being a good horseman, without learning other +accomplishments unsuited to the clergy; although my father assures me +that not a few of the Spanish clergy understand and practice them with +frequency in Spain, even in our own day, with a view to contributing to +the triumph of the faith, and to the preservation or the restoration of +the unity of the Church.</p> + +<p>I am grieved to the soul by this levity of my father's, and that he +should speak with irreverence and jestingly about the most serious +things; but a respectful son is not called upon to go further than I do +in repressing his somewhat Voltairean freedom of speech. I say +<i>Voltairean,</i> because I am not able to describe it by any other word. At +heart my father is a good Catholic, and this thought consoles me.</p> + +<p>Tuesday was the Feast of the Cross, and the village presented a very +animated appearance. In each street were six or seven May-crosses, +covered with flowers, but none of them was so beautiful as that placed +by Pepita at the door of her house. It was adorned by a perfect cascade +of flowers.</p> + +<p>In the evening we went to an entertainment at the house of Pepita. The +cross which had stood at the door was now placed in a large saloon on +the ground-floor, in which there is a piano, and Pepita presented us +with a simple and poetic spectacle, one that I had seen when a child, +but had since forgotten.</p> + +<p>From the upper part of the cross hung down seven bands or broad ribbons, +two white, two green, and three red, the symbolic colors of the +theological virtues. Eight children of five or six years old, +representing the seven sacraments, and holding the seven ribbons that +hung from the cross, performed with great skill a species of +contra-dance. The sacrament of baptism was represented by a child +wearing the white robe of a catechumen; ordination, by another child as +a priest; confirmation, by a little bishop; extreme unction, by a +pilgrim with staff and scrip, the latter filled with shells; marriage, +by a bride and bridegroom, and penance, by a Nazarene with cross and +crown of thorns.</p> + +<p>The dance was a series of reverences, steps, evolutions, and +genuflections, rather than a dance, performed to the sound of very +tolerable music, something like a march, which the organist played, not +without skill, on the piano.</p> + +<p>The little dancers, children of the servants or retainers of Pepita, +after playing their parts, went away to bed amid compliments and +caresses.</p> + +<p>The entertainment, in the course of which we were served with +refreshments, continued till twelve; the refreshments were sirup served +in little cups, and afterward chocolate with sponge-cake, and meringues +and water.</p> + +<p>Since the return of spring, Pepita's seclusion and retirement are being +gradually abandoned, at which my father is greatly rejoiced. In future, +Pepita will receive every night, and my father desires that I shall be +one of the guests.</p> + +<p>Pepita has left off mourning, and now appears more lovely and attractive +than ever, in the lighter fabrics appropriate to the season, which is +almost summer. She still dresses, however, with extreme simplicity.</p> + +<p>I cherish the hope that my father will not now detain me here beyond the +end of this month at farthest. In June we shall both join you in the +city, and you shall then see how, far from Pepita, to whom I am +indifferent, and who will remember me neither kindly nor unkindly, I +shall have the pleasure of embracing you, and attaining at last to the +happiness of being ordained.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 7th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Pepita, as I mentioned to you before, receives every evening, from nine +to twelve.</p> + +<p>Four or five married ladies of the village, and as many more unmarried +ones, including Aunt Casilda, are frequent visitors; as well as six or +seven young men, who play at forfeits with the girls. Three or four +engagements are the natural result.</p> + +<p>The sedate portion of the company are the same as usual. These are, as +one may say, the high functionaries of the village—my father, who is +the squire, the apothecary, the doctor, and the reverend vicar.</p> + +<p>I am at a loss to know in which division to place myself. If I join the +young people, my gravity proves a hindrance to their games and +flirtations; if I stay with the elders, I must play the <i>rôle</i> of a +looker-on in things I have no knowledge of. The only games of cards I +know are the <i>burro ciego</i>, the <i>burro con vista</i>, and a little <i>tute</i> +or <i>brisca cruzada</i>.</p> + +<p>The best course for me to pursue would be to absent myself from the +house altogether, but my father will not hear of this. By doing so, +according to him, I should make myself ridiculous.</p> + +<p>My father shows many signs of wonder when he sees my ignorance in +certain things. That I should not know how to play even ombre fills him +with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Your uncle has brought you up quite out of the world," he says to me, +"cramming you with theology, and leaving you in the dark about +everything else you ought to know. For the very reason that you are to +be a priest, and can neither dance nor make love in society, it is +necessary that you should know how to play ombre. Otherwise how are you +going to spend your time, unhappy boy?"</p> + +<p>To these and other arguments of a like land I have been obliged to +yield, and my father is teaching me at home to play ombre, so that, as +soon as I have learned it, I may play it at Pepita's. He wanted also, as +I already told you, to teach me to fence, and afterward to smoke and +shoot and throw the bar; but I have consented to nothing of all this.</p> + +<p>"What a difference," my father exclaims, "between your youth and mine!"</p> + +<p>And then he adds, laughing:</p> + +<p>"In substance it is the same thing. I, too, had my canonical hours, in +the quarters of the life-guard: a cigar was the censer; a pack of cards, +the hymn-book; and there were never wanting other devotions and +exercises of a more or less spiritual character."</p> + +<p>Although you had warned me of this levity of disposition of my father, +and on account of it I have spent with you twelve years of my life—from +the age of ten to that of twenty-two—yet the sayings of his, altogether +too free at times, perturb and mortify me. But what is to be done? +Although I can not reprove him for making use of them, I do not, on the +other hand, applaud or laugh at them. The strangest part of it is that +my father is altogether another person when he is in the house of +Pepita. Not even by chance does a single phrase, a single jest of the +kind he is so prodigal of at other times escape from him then. At +Pepita's my father is politeness itself. He seems, too, to become every +day more attached to her, and to cherish greater hopes of success.</p> + +<p>My father continues greatly pleased with me as his pupil in +horsemanship. He declares that in four or five days I shall have +mastered the art, and that I shall then mount Lucero, a black horse bred +from an Arab horse and a mare of the race of Guadalcazar, full of fire +and spirit, and trained to all manner of curvetings.</p> + +<p>"Whoever succeeds in getting on the back of Lucero," my father says to +me, "may venture to compete in horsemanship with the centaurs +themselves; and that you shall do very soon."</p> + +<p>Although I spend the whole day out of doors on horseback, in the +club-house, or at Pepita's, I yet steal a few hours from slumber, +sometimes voluntarily, sometimes because I can not sleep, to meditate on +my situation and to examine my conscience. The image of Pepita is always +present to my mind. "Can this be love?" I ask myself.</p> + +<p>The moral obligation I am under, the vow I have made to consecrate +myself to the service of the altar, although not confirmed, is +nevertheless, in my eyes, full and binding. If anything opposed to the +fulfillment of this vow has entered into my soul, it must be combated.</p> + +<p>I note, too, and do not accuse me of arrogance because I mention this to +you, that the empire of my will, which you have taught me to exercise, +is complete over my senses. While Moses on the top of Mount Sinai +conversed with God, the people on the plain below adored, rebellious, +the golden calf. Notwithstanding my youth, my spirit has no fears of +incurring a like rebelliousness. I might converse with God in full +security, if the enemy did not come to attack me in the sanctuary +itself. But the image of Pepita presents itself to my soul. It is a +spirit that makes war against my spirit. It is the idea of her beauty in +all its spiritual purity, that stands before the sanctuary of the souls +where God resides, and prevents me from reaching him.</p> + +<p>I do not shut my eyes to the truth, however; I can see clearly; I can +reason; I do not deceive myself. Above and beyond this spiritual +inclination that draws me to Pepita, is the love of the Infinite and of +the Eternal. Although I represent Pepita to myself as an idea, as a +poem, it is still the idea, the poetry of something finite, limited, +concrete; while the love of God and the conception of God embrace +everything. But, notwithstanding all my efforts, I am unable to give +form in my mind to this supreme conception—this object of the highest +love—in order that it may combat the image, the memory of the frail and +ephemeral reality that continually besets me. Fervently do I implore +Heaven to awaken within me the power of the imagination, that it may +create a likeness, a symbol of this conception, that shall be +all-embracing, and absorb and efface the image of Pepita. This highest +conception, on which I desire to center my love, is vague, shadowy, +indescribable, like the blackness of darkness; while Pepita's image +presents itself to me in clearly defined outlines, bright, palpable, +luminous with the subdued light that may be borne by the eyes of the +spirit, not bright with the intense light that for the eyes of the +spirit is as darkness.</p> + +<p>Every other consideration, every other object is of no avail to destroy +her image. Between the crucifix and me it places itself; between the +most sacred image of the Virgin and me it places itself; on the page of +the spiritual book I am reading it also comes to place itself.</p> + +<p>Yet I do not believe that my soul is invaded by what in the world is +called love. And even if this were the case, I should do battle against +this love, and conquer in the end.</p> + +<p>The daily sight of Pepita, the hearing her praises sounded continually, +even by the reverend vicar, preoccupy me; they turn my spirit toward +profane things, and withdraw it from its proper meditations. But, no—I +do not yet love Pepita; I will go away from here and forget her.</p> + +<p>While I remain here, I shall do battle with valor. I shall wrestle with +the Lord in order to prevail with him by love and submission. My cries +shall reach him like burning arrows, and shall cast down the buckler +wherewith he defends himself from the eyes of my soul. I shall fight +like Israel in the silence of the night; and the Lord shall wound me in +the thigh, and shall humble me in the conflict in order that, being +vanquished, I may become the victor.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 12th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Before I had any intention of doing so, my dear uncle, my father +persuaded me to ride Lucero. Yesterday, at six in the morning, I mounted +the beautiful wild creature, as my father calls Lucero, and we set out +for the country.</p> + +<p>I rode so well, I kept so firm a seat, and looked to such advantage on +the superb animal, that my father could not resist the temptation of +showing off his pupil; and, about eleven in the morning, after resting +at a grange he owns, half a league distant from here, he insisted on our +returning to the village and entering it by the most frequented street, +which we did, our horses' hoofs clattering loudly against the +paving-stones. It is needless to say that we rode by the house of +Pepita, who for some time past is to be seen occasionally in her window, +and who was then seated at the grating of a lower window, behind the +green blind.</p> + +<p>Hardly had Pepita heard the noise we made than, lifting up her eyes and +seeing us, she rose, laid down the sewing she had in her hands, and set +herself to observe us. Lucero, who has the habit, as I learned +afterward, of prancing and curveting when he passes the house of Pepita, +began to show off, and to rear and plunge. I tried to quiet him, but, as +there was something unfamiliar to him in the ways of his present rider, +as well as in the rider himself, whom, perhaps, he regarded with +contempt, he grew more and more unmanageable, and began to neigh and +prance, and even to kick; but I remained firm and serene, showing him +that I was his master, chastising him with the spur, touching his breast +with the whip, and holding him in by the bridle. Lucero, who had almost +stood up on his hind-legs, now humbled himself so far as to bend his +knees gently and make a reverence.</p> + +<p>The crowd of idlers who had gathered around us broke into boisterous +applause. My father called out to them:</p> + +<p>"A good lesson that for our braggarts and blusterers!"</p> + +<p>And, observing afterward that Currito—who has no other occupation than +to amuse himself—was among the crowd, he addressed him in these words:</p> + +<p>"Look at that, you rascal! Look at the theologian now, and see if you +don't stare with wonder, instead of laughing at him."</p> + +<p>And, in fact, there Currito stood stock-still with amazement, and unable +to utter a word.</p> + +<p>My triumph was great and assured, although unsuited to my character. The +unfitness of the triumph covered me with confusion. Shame brought the +blood to my cheeks. I must have turned as red as scarlet, or redder, +when I saw that Pepita was applauding and saluting me graciously, while +she smiled and clapped her beautiful hands.</p> + +<p>In short, I have been adjudged a man of nerve, and a horseman of the +first rank.</p> + +<p>My father could not be prouder or more happy than he is; he declares +that he is completing my education, that in me you have sent him a book +full of wisdom, but unconnected and unbound, which he is now making a +fair copy, and putting it between covers.</p> + +<p>On two occasions I played <i>hombre</i> with Pepita. Learning <i>hombre</i>, if +that be a part of the binding and the correcting, is already done with.</p> + +<p>The night after my equestrian feat Pepita received me with enthusiasm, +and—what she had never ventured nor perhaps desired to do before—she +gave me her hand.</p> + +<p>Do not suppose that I did not call to mind what so many moralists and +ascetics recommend in like cases, but in my inmost thoughts I believed +they exaggerated the danger. Those words of the Holy Spirit, that it is +as dangerous to touch a woman as a scorpion, seem to me to have been +said in another sense. In pious books, no doubt, many phrases and +sentences of the Scriptures are, with the best intentions, interpreted +harshly. How are we to understand otherwise the saying that the beauty +of woman, this perfect work of God, is always the cause of perdition? Or +how are we to understand, in a universal and invariable sense, that +woman is more bitter than death? How are we to understand that he who +touches a woman, on whatever occasion or with whatsoever thought, shall +not be without stain?</p> + +<p>In fine, I made answer rapidly within my mind to these and other similar +counsels, and took the hand that Pepita kindly extended to me and +pressed it in mine. Its softness made me comprehend all the better the +delicacy and beauty of the hand that until now I had known only by +sight.</p> + +<p>According to the usages of the world, the hand, once given, should be +given always thereafter on entering a room and on taking leave. I hope +that in this ceremony, in this evidence of friendship, in this +manifestation of kindness, given and accepted in purity of heart, and +without any mixture of levity, you will see nothing either evil or +dangerous.</p> + +<p>As my father is often obliged of an evening to see the overseer and +others of the country-people, and is seldom free until half-past ten or +eleven, I take his place beside Pepita at the ombre-table. The reverend +vicar and the notary are generally the other partners. We each stake a +penny a point, so that not more than a dollar or two changes hands in +the game.</p> + +<p>As the game possesses thus but little interest, we interrupt it +constantly with pleasant conversation, and even with discussions on +matters foreign to the game itself, in all which Pepita displays such +clearness of understanding, such liveliness of imagination, and a grace +of expression so extraordinary, as to astonish me.</p> + +<p>I find no sufficient motive to change my opinion with respect to what I +have already said in answer to your suspicions that Pepita perhaps feels +a certain liking for me. She manifests toward me the affection she would +naturally entertain for the son of her suitor, Don Pedro de Vargas, and +the timidity and shyness that would be inspired by a man in my position, +who, though not yet a priest, is soon to become one.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, as I always speak to you in my letters as if I were +kneeling before you in the confessional, I desire, as is my duty, to +communicate to you a passing impression I have received on two or three +occasions. This impression may be but a hallucination or a delusion, but +I have none the less received it.</p> + +<p>I have already told you in my former letters that the eyes of Pepita, +green as those of Circe, are calm and tranquil in their gaze; she does +not seem to be conscious of their power, or to know that they serve for +any other purpose than to see with. When she looks at one, the soft +light of her glance is so clear, so frank, and so untroubled that, +instead of giving rise to any evil thoughts, it seems to give birth to +pure thoughts, and leaves innocent and chaste souls in untroubled +repose, while it destroys every incitement to evil in souls that are not +chaste. There is no trace of ardent passion, no fire to be discovered in +Pepita's eyes. Their light is like the mild ray of the moon.</p> + +<p>Well, then, notwithstanding all this, I fancied I detected, on two or +three occasions, a sudden brightness, a gleam as of lightning, a swift, +devouring flame in her eyes as they rested on me. Can this be the result +of a ridiculous vanity, inspired by the arch-fiend himself?</p> + +<p>I think so. I believe it is, and I wish to believe it.</p> + +<p>The swiftness, the fugitive nature of the impression make me conjecture +that it had no external reality, that it was only an illusion.</p> + +<p>The serenity of heaven, the coldness of indifference, tempered, indeed, +with sweetness and charity—this is what I always discern in Pepita's +eyes.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, this illusion, this vision of a strange and ardent glance, +torments me.</p> + +<p>My father affirms that in affairs of the heart it is the woman, not the +man, who takes the first step; and that she takes it without thereby +incurring any responsibility, and with the power to disavow or retract +it whenever she desires to do so. According to my father, it is the +woman who first declares her passion through the medium of furtive +glances that, later, she disavows to her own conscience if necessary, +and of which he to whom they are directed divines, rather than reads, +the significance. In this manner, by a species of electric shock, by +means of a subtle and inexplicable intuition, he who is loved perceives +that he is loved; and when at last he makes up his mind to declare +himself, he can do so confidently, and in the full security that his +passion is returned.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it is these theories of my father, to which I have listened +because I could not help it, that have heated my fancy and made me +imagine what has no existence in reality.</p> + +<p>Yet, after all, I say to myself at times, Is the thought so absurd, so +incredible, that this illusion should have an existence in reality? And +if it had, if I were pleasing in Pepita's eyes otherwise than as a +friend, if the woman to whom my father is paying his addresses should +fall in love with me, would not my position then be terrible?</p> + +<p>But let us cast away these fears, the creation, no doubt, of vanity. Let +us not make of Pepita a Phædra, or of me a Hippolytus.</p> + +<p>What in reality begins to surprise me is my father's carelessness and +complete consciousness of security. Pardon my pride, ask Heaven to +pardon it; for at times this consciousness of security piques and +offends me. What! I say to myself, is there something so absurd in the +thought that it should not even occur to my father that, notwithstanding +my supposed sanctity, or perhaps because of my supposed sanctity, I +should, without wishing it, inspire Pepita with love?</p> + +<p>There is an ingenious method of reasoning by which I explain to myself, +without wounding my vanity, my father's carelessness in this important +particular. My father, although he has no reason for doing so, begins to +regard himself already in the light of Pepita's husband, and to share in +that fatal blindness with which Asmodeus, or some other yet more +malicious demon, afflicts husbands. Profane and ecclesiastical history +is fall of instances of this blindness, which God permits, no doubt, for +providential purposes. The most remarkable example of it, perhaps, is +that of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who had for wife a woman so vile as +Faustina, and yet so wise a man and so great a philosopher remained in +ignorance to the end of his days of what was known to every one else in +the Roman Empire; so that in the meditations or memoirs of himself that +he composed he gives infinite thanks to the immortal gods for having +bestowed upon him so faithful and so good a wife; thus provoking the +smiles of his contemporaries and of future generations.</p> + +<p>Every day since then we see examples of great men and men of exalted +rank who make those who enjoy the favor of their wives their private +secretaries, and bestow honors on them. Thus do I explain to myself my +father's indifference and his failure to suspect that, even against my +own will, it would be possible for him to find a rival in me.</p> + +<p>Would it be a want of respect on my part, should I fall into the fault +of presumption or insolence, if I were to warn my father of the danger +which he himself does not see? But he gives me no opportunity to say +anything to him. Besides, what could I say to him? That once or twice I +fancy Pepita has looked at me in a way different from that in which she +usually does? May not this be an illusion of mine? No; I have not the +least proof that Pepita desires to play the coquette with me.</p> + +<p>What, then, could I tell my father? Shall I say to him that it is I who +am in love with Pepita; that I covet the treasure he already regards as +his own? This is not the truth; and, above all, how could I tell this to +my father, even if, to my misfortune and through my fault, it were the +truth?</p> + +<p>The best course I can adopt is to say nothing; to combat the temptation +in silence, if it should indeed assail me, and to endeavor, as soon as +possible, to leave this place and return to you.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 19th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>I return thanks to Heaven and to you for the letters and the counsels +you have lately sent me. To-day I need them more than ever.</p> + +<p>The mystical and learned St. Theresa is right in dwelling upon the +suffering of timid souls that allow themselves to be disturbed by +temptation; but a thousand times worse than that suffering is the +awakening from error of those who, like me, have permitted themselves to +indulge in arrogance and self-confidence.</p> + +<p>Our bodies are the temples wherein dwells the Holy Spirit; but when +fire is set to the walls of the temple, though they do not burn, yet +they are blackened.</p> + +<p>The first evil thought is the head of the serpent; if we do not crush it +with firm and courageous foot, then will the venomous reptile climb up +and hide himself in our bosom.</p> + +<p>The nectar of earthly joys, however innocent they be, is sweet indeed to +the taste; but afterward it is converted into gall, and into the venom +of the serpent.</p> + +<p>It is true—I can no longer deny it to you—I ought not to have allowed +my eyes to rest with so much complacency on this dangerous woman.</p> + +<p>I do not deem myself lost; but I feel my soul troubled.</p> + +<p>Even as the thirsty hart desires and seeks the water-brooks, so does my +soul still seek God. To God does it turn that he may give it rest; it +longs to drink at the torrent of his delights the gushing forth of which +rejoices paradise, and whose clear waves make whiter than snow but deep +calleth unto deep, and my feet have stuck fast in the mire that is +hidden in their abysses.</p> + +<p>Yet have I still breath and voice to cry out with the psalmist: "Arise, +my joy! if thou dost take my part, who shall prevail against me?"</p> + +<p>I say unto my sinful soul, full of the chimerical imaginations and +sinful desires engendered by unlawful thoughts: "O miserable daughter +of Babylon! happy shall he be who shall give thee thy reward! Happy +shall he be that dasheth thy little ones against the rock!"</p> + +<p>Works of penance, fasting, prayer, and penitence, are the weapons +wherewith I shall arm myself to combat, and, with the Divine help, to +vanquish.</p> + +<p>It was not a dream; it was not madness; it was the truth: she lets her +eyes rest upon me at times with the ardent glance of which I have told +you. There is in her glance an unexplainable magnetic attraction. It +draws me on, it seduces me, and I can not withdraw my gaze from her. On +such occasions my eyes must burn, like hers, with a fatal flame, as did +those of Amnon when he turned them upon Tamar; as did those of the +prince of Shechem when they were fixed upon Dinah.</p> + +<p>When our glances encounter each other thus, I forget even God. Her image +rises up within my soul, the conqueror of everything. Her beauty +outshines all other beauty; the joys of heaven seem to me less desirable +than her affection. An eternity of suffering would be little in exchange +for one moment of the infinite bliss with which one of those glances +that pass like lightning inundates my soul.</p> + +<p>When I return home, when I am alone in my room, in the silence of the +night, I realize all the horror of my position, and I form good +resolutions, only to break them again.</p> + +<p>I resolve to feign sickness, to make use of any pretext so as not to go +to Pepita's on the following night, and yet I go.</p> + +<p>My father, confiding to the last degree, says to me when the hour +arrives, without any suspicion of what is passing in my soul:</p> + +<p>"Go you to Pepita's; I will go later, when I have finished with the +overseer."</p> + +<p>No excuse occurs to me; I can find no pretext for not going, and, +instead of answering, "I can not go," I take my hat and depart.</p> + +<p>On entering the room I shake hands with Pepita, and, as our hands touch, +she casts a spell over me; my whole being is changed; a devouring fire +penetrates my heart, and I think only of her. Moved by an irresistible +impulse, I gaze at her with insane ardor, and at every instant I think I +discover in her new perfections. Now it is the dimples in her cheeks +when she smiles, now the roseate whiteness of her skin, now the straight +outlines of her nose, now the smallness of her ear, now the softness of +contour and the admirable modeling of her throat.</p> + +<p>I enter her house against my will, as though summoned there by a +conjurer, and no sooner am I there than I fall under the spell of her +enchantment. I see clearly that I am in the power of an enchantress, +whose fascination is irresistible.</p> + +<p>Not only is she pleasing to my sight, but her words sound in my ears +like the music of the spheres, revealing to my soul the harmony of the +universe; and I even fancy that a subtle fragrance emanates from her, +sweeter than the perfume of the mint that grows by the brook-side, or +the wood-like odor of the thyme that is found among the hills.</p> + +<p>I know not how, in this state of exaltation, I am able to play <i>hombre,</i> +or to converse rationally, or even to speak, so completely am I absorbed +in her.</p> + +<p>When our glances encounter each other, our souls rush forth in them, and +seem to join and interpenetrate each other. In that meeting a thousand +feelings are communicated that in no other way could be made known; +poems are recited that could be uttered in no human tongue, and songs +are sung that no human voice could sing, no according zither accompany.</p> + +<p>Since the day I met Pepita in the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i>, I have not seen +her alone. Although no word has passed between us, yet we have told each +other everything.</p> + +<p>When I withdraw myself from this fascination, when I am again alone at +night in my chamber, I set myself to examine coolly the situation in +which I am placed; I see the abyss that is about to ingulf me, yawning +before me, and I feel my feet slip from under me, and that I am sinking +into it.</p> + +<p>You counsel me to reflect upon death—not on the death of this woman, +but on my own. You counsel me to reflect on the instability, on the +insecurity of our existence, and on what there is beyond it. But these +considerations, these reflections neither terrify nor daunt me. Why +should I, who desire to die, fear death? Love and death are brothers. A +sentiment of self-abnegation springs to life within me, and tells me +that my whole being should be consecrated to and annihilated in the +beloved object. I long to merge myself in one of her glances; to diffuse +and exhale my whole being in the ray of light shot forth from her eyes; +to die while gazing on her, even though I should be eternally lost.</p> + +<p>What is still to some extent efficacious with me against this love is +not fear, but love itself. Superior to this deep-rooted love with which +I now have the evidence that Pepita inspires me, Divine love exalts +itself in my spirit in mighty uprising. Then everything is changed +within me, and I feel that I may yet obtain the victory. The object of +my higher love presents itself to my mental vision, as the sun that +kindles and illuminates all things, and fills all space with light; and +the object of my inferior love appears but as an atom of dust floating +in the sunbeam. All its beauty, all its splendor, all its attraction are +nothing but the reflection of this uncreated sun, the brilliant, +transitory, fleeting spark that is cast off from that infinite and +inexhaustible fire.</p> + +<p>My soul, burning with love, would fain take to herself wings and rise to +that flame, in order that all that is impure within her might be +consumed therein.</p> + +<p>My life, for some days past, is a constant struggle. I know not how it +is that the malady from which I suffer does not betray itself in my +countenance. I scarcely eat; I scarcely sleep. And if by chance sleep +closes my eyelids, I awake in terror as from a dream in which rebel +angels are arrayed against good angels, and in which I am one of the +combatants. In this conflict of light against darkness, I do battle for +the right, but I sometimes imagine that I have gone over to the enemy, +that I am a vile deserter; and I hear a voice from Patmos saying, "And +men preferred darkness rather than light"; and then I am filled with +terror and I look upon myself as lost. No resource is left me but +flight. If, before the end of the month, my father does not go with me, +or consent to my going alone, I shall steal away like a thief, without a +word to any one.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 23d.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>I am a vile worm, not a man; I am the opprobrium and disgrace of +humanity. I am a hypocrite.</p> + +<p>I have been encompassed by the pangs of death, and the waters of +iniquity have passed over me.</p> + +<p>I am ashamed to write to you, and yet I write. I desire to confess +everything to you.</p> + +<p>I can not turn away from evil. Far from abstaining from going to +Pepita's, I go there each night earlier than the last. It would seem as +if devils took me by the feet and carried me there against my will!</p> + +<p>Happily, I never find Pepita alone; I do not desire to find her alone. I +almost always find there before me the excellent vicar, who attributes +our friendship to similarity of feeling in religious matters, and bases +it on piety, like the pure and innocent friendship he himself entertains +for her.</p> + +<p>The progress of my malady is rapid. Like the stone that is loosened from +the mountain-top and gathers force as it falls, so is it with my spirit +now.</p> + +<p>When Pepita and I shake hands, it is not now as before. Each one of us, +by an effort of the will, transmits to the other, through the handclasp, +every throb of the heart. It is as if, by some diabolical art, we had +effected a transfusion and a blending together of the most subtle +elements our blood. She must feel my life circulate through her veins, +as I feel hers in mine.</p> + +<p>When I am near her, I love her; when I am away from her, I hate her. +When I am in her presence she inspires me with love; she draws me to +her; she subjugates me with gentleness; she lays upon me a very easy +yoke.</p> + +<p>But the recollection of her undoes me. When I dream of her, I dream that +she is severing my head from my body, as Judith slew the captain of the +Assyrians; or that she is driving a nail into my temple, as Jael did to +Sisera. But when I am near her, she appears to me the Spouse of the Song +of Songs, and a voice within me calls to her, and I bless her, and I +regard her as a sealed fountain, as an inclosed garden, as the flower of +the valley, as the lily of the fields, my dove and my sister.</p> + +<p>I desire to free myself from her, and I can not. I abhor, yet I almost +worship her. Her spirit enters into and takes possession of me as soon +as I behold her; it subjugates me, it abases me.</p> + +<p>I leave her house each night, saying, "This is the last night I shall +return here"; and I return there on the following night!</p> + +<p>When she speaks, and I am near, my soul hangs, as it were, upon her +words. When she smiles, I imagine that a ray of spiritual light enters +into my heart and rejoices it.</p> + +<p>It has happened, when playing <i>hombre</i>, that our knees have touched by +chance, and then I have felt a thrill run through me impossible to +describe.</p> + +<p>Get me away from this place. Write to my father and ask him to let me +return to you. If it be necessary, tell him everything. Help me! Be you +my refuge!</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 30th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>God has given me strength to resist, and I have resisted.</p> + +<p>It is now many days since I have been in the house of Pepita, many days +since I have seen her.</p> + +<p>It is scarcely necessary that I should feign sickness, for I am in +reality sick. I have lost my color, and dark circles begin to show +themselves under my eyes; and my father asks me, full of affectionate +anxiety, what the cause of my suffering is, and manifests the deepest +concern in my regard.</p> + +<p>The kingdom of heaven is said to yield to violence, and I am resolved to +conquer it. With violence I call at its gates that they may open to me.</p> + +<p>With wormwood am I fed by the Lord, in order to prove me; and in vain do +I supplicate him to let this cup of bitterness pass away from me. But, +as I have passed and still pass many nights in vigil, delivered up to +prayer, a loving inspiration from the Supreme Consoler has come to +sweeten the bitterness of my cup.</p> + +<p>I have beheld with the eyes of the soul the new country; and the new +song of the heavenly Jerusalem has resounded within the depths of my +heart.</p> + +<p>If in the end I should conquer, glorious will be the victory; but I +shall owe it to the Queen of Angels, under whose protection I place +myself. She is my refuge and my defense; the tower and the house of +David, on whose walls hang innumerable shields and the armor of many +valiant champions; the cedar of Lebanon, that puts to flight the +serpent.</p> + +<p>The woman who inspires me with an earthly love, on the contrary, I +endeavor to despise and abase in my thoughts, remembering the words of +the sage, and applying them to her.</p> + +<p>"Thou art the snare of the hunter," I say to her; "thy heart is a net of +deceit, and thy hands are bands that imprison; he who fears God will +flee from thee, and the sinner shall be taken captive by thee."</p> + +<p>In my meditations on love, I find a thousand reasons for loving God, and +against loving her.</p> + +<p>I feel, in the depths of my heart, an indescribable enthusiasm that +convinces me that for the love of God I would sacrifice all +things—fame, honor, power, dominion. I feel myself capable of imitating +Christ, and if the tempter should carry me off to the mountain-top, and +should there offer me all the kingdoms of the earth if I consented to +bow the knee before him, yet would I not bend it. But were he to offer +me this woman if I should do so, I feel that I should waver, that I +should not reject his offer. Is this woman, then, worth more in my eyes +than all the kingdoms of the earth? More than fame, honor, power, and +dominion?</p> + +<p>Is the virtue of love, I ask myself at times, always the same, even when +applied to diverse objects; or are there two species and qualities of +love? To love God seems to me to be the giving up of self and of selfish +interest. Loving him, I desire to love, and I can love all things +through him, and I am not troubled or jealous because of his love toward +all things. I am not jealous of the saints, or of the martyrs, or of the +blessed, or even of the seraphim. The greater I picture to myself to be +the love of God for his creatures, and the graces and gifts he bestows +upon them, the less am I troubled by jealousy; the more I love him, the +nearer to me do I feel him to be, and the more loving and gracious does +he seem toward me. My brotherhood, my more than brotherhood with all +creatures, stands forth then in a most pleasing light. It seems to me +that I am one with all things, and that all things are bound together in +the bonds of love, through God and in God.</p> + +<p>Very different is it when my thoughts dwell upon Pepita, and on the love +with which she inspires me. This love is a love full of hatred, that +separates me from everything but myself. I desire her for myself, +altogether for myself, and myself altogether for her. Even devotion to +her, even sacrifices made for her sake, partake of the nature of +selfishness. To die for her would be to die of despair at not being able +to possess her in any other manner—from the fear of not enjoying her +love completely, except by dying and commingling with her in an eternal +embrace.</p> + +<p>By these reflections I endeavor to render the love of Pepita hateful to +me. I invest my love in my imagination with something diabolical and +fatal; but, as if I possessed a double soul, a double understanding, a +double will, and a double imagination, in contradiction to this thought, +other feelings rise up within me in its train, and I then deny what I +have just affirmed, and insanely endeavor to reconcile the two loves. +Would it not be possible, I ask myself, to fly from Pepita, and yet +continue to love her, without ceasing therefore to consecrate myself +with fervor to the love of God? For, as the love of God does not +exclude love of country, love of humanity, love of learning, love of +beauty in nature and in art, neither should it exclude another love, if +it be spiritual and immaculate. I will make of her, I say to myself, a +symbol, an allegory, an image of all that is good, of all that is +beautiful. She shall be to me, as Beatrice was to Dante, the image and +the symbol of country, of knowledge, and of beauty.</p> + +<p>This intention suggests to me a horrible fancy, a monstrous thought. In +order to make of Pepita this symbol, this vaporous and ethereal image, +this sign and epitome of all that I can love under God, in God, and +subordinate to God, I picture her to myself dead, as Beatrice was dead +when Dante made her the subject of his song.</p> + +<p>If I picture her to myself among the living, then I am unable to convert +her into a pure idea, and if I convert her into a pure idea, I kill her +in my thoughts.</p> + +<p>Then I weep; I am filled with horror at my crime, and I draw near to her +in spirit, and with the warmth of my heart I bring her back to life +again; and I behold her, not errant, diaphanous, floating in shadowy +outline among roseate clouds and celestial flowers, as the stern +Ghibelline beheld his beloved in the upper sphere of purgatory, but +coherent, solid, clearly defined in the pure and serene air like the +masterpieces of Greek art, like Galatea already animated by the love of +Pygmalion, and descending—full of fire, exhaling love, rich in youth +and beauty—from her pedestal of marble.</p> + +<p>Then I exclaim in the depths of my perturbed heart: "My virtue faints! +My God, do not thou forsake me! Hasten to my help; show thy countenance, +and I shall be saved."</p> + +<p>Thus do I recover strength to resist temptation. Thus again does the +hope spring to life within me, that I shall regain my former +tranquillity when I shall have left this place.</p> + +<p>The devil longs with ardor to swallow up the pure waters of Jordan, by +which are symbolized the persons who are consecrated to God. Hell +conspires against them, and lets loose all her monsters, upon them. St. +Bonaventure says, "We should not wonder that these persons have sinned, +but rather that they have not sinned."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding, I shall be able to resist and not sin. The Lord will +protect me.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>June 6th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Pepita's nurse—now her housekeeper—is, as my father says, a good bag +of wrinkles; she is talkative, gay, and skillful, as few are. She +married the son of Master Cencias, and has inherited from the father +what the son did not inherit—a wonderful facility for the mechanical +arts, with this difference; that while Master Cencias could set the +screw of a wine-press, or repair the wheels of a wagon, or make a plow, +this daughter-in-law of his knows how to make sweetmeats, conserves of +honey, and other dainties. The father-in-law practiced the useful arts, +the daughter-in-law those that have for their object pleasure, though +only innocent, or at least lawful pleasure.</p> + +<p>Antoñona—for such is her name—is permitted, or assumes, the greatest +familiarity with all the gentry here. She goes in and out of every house +as if it were her own. She says <i>thou</i> to all the young people of +Pepita's age, or four or five years older; she calls them <i>niño</i> and +<i>niña,</i> and treats them as if she had nursed them at her breast.</p> + +<p>She behaves toward me with the same familiarity; she comes to visit me, +enters my room unannounced, and has asked me several times already why I +no longer go to see her mistress, and has told me that I am wrong in not +going.</p> + +<p>My father, who has no suspicion of the truth, accuses me of +eccentricity; he calls me an owl, and he, too, is determined that I +shall resume my visits to Pepita. Last night I could no longer resist +his repeated importunities, and I went to her house very early, as my +father was about to settle his accounts with the overseer.</p> + +<p>Would God I had not gone!</p> + +<p>Pepita was alone. When our glances met, when we saluted each other, we +both turned red. We shook hands with timidity and in silence.</p> + +<p>I did not press her hand, nor did she press mine, but for a moment we +held them clasped together.</p> + +<p>In Pepita's glance, as she looked at me, there was nothing of love; +there was only friendship, sympathy, and a profound sadness.</p> + +<p>She had divined the whole of my inward struggle; she was persuaded that +divine love had triumphed in my soul; that my resolution not to love her +was firm and invincible.</p> + +<p>She did not venture to complain of me; she had no reason to complain of +me; she knew that right was on my side. A sigh, scarcely perceptible, +that escaped from her dewy, parted lips, revealed to me the depth of her +sorrow.</p> + +<p>Her hand still lay in mine; we were both silent. How say to her that she +was not destined for me, nor I for her; that we must part forever?</p> + +<p>But, though my lips refused to tell her this in words, I told it to her +with my eyes; my severe glance confirmed her fears; it convinced her of +the irrevocableness of my decision.</p> + +<p>All at once her gaze was troubled; her lovely countenance, pale with a +translucent pallor, was contracted with a touching expression of +melancholy. She looked like Our Lady of Sorrows. Two tears rose slowly +to her eyes, and began to steal down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>I know not what passed within me—and how describe it, even if I knew?</p> + +<p>I bent toward her to kiss away her tears, and our lips met in a kiss.</p> + +<p>A rapture unspeakable, a faintness full of peril, invaded our whole +being. She would have fallen, but that I supported her in my arms.</p> + +<p>Heaven willed that we should at this moment hear the step and the cough +of the reverend vicar, who was approaching, and we instantly drew apart.</p> + +<p>Recovering myself, and summoning all the strength of my will, I brought +to an end this terrible scene, that had been enacted in silence, with +these words, which I pronounced in low and intense accents:</p> + +<p>"The first and the last!"</p> + +<p>I made allusion to our profane kiss, but, as if my words had been an +invocation, there rose before me the vision of the Apocalypse in all its +terrible majesty. I beheld Him who is indeed the First and the Last, +and, with the two-edged sword that proceeded from his mouth, he pierced +my soul, full of evil, of wickedness, and of sin.</p> + +<p>All that evening I passed in a species of frenzy, an inward delirium, +that I know not how I was able to conceal.</p> + +<p>I withdrew from Pepita's house very early.</p> + +<p>The anguish of my soul was yet more poignant in solitude.</p> + +<p>When I recalled that kiss, and those words of farewell, I compared +myself with the traitor Judas, who made use of a kiss to betray; and +with the sanguinary and treacherous assassin Joab, who plunged the sharp +steel into the bowels of Amasa while in the act of kissing him.</p> + +<p>I had committed a double treason; I had been guilty of a double perfidy. +I had sinned against God and against her.</p> + +<p>I am an execrable wretch.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>June 11th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Everything may still be remedied.</p> + +<p>Pepita will, in time, forget her love and the weakness of which we were +guilty.</p> + +<p>Since that night I have not returned to her house. Antoñona has not made +her appearance in ours.</p> + +<p>By dint of entreaties I have obtained a formal promise from my father +that we shall leave here on the 25th, the day after St. John's day, +which is here celebrated with splendid feasts, and on the eve of which +there is a famous vigil.</p> + +<p>Absent from Pepita, I begin to recover my serenity, and to think that +this first appearance of love was a trial of my virtue.</p> + +<p>All these nights I have prayed, I have watched, I have performed many +works of penance.</p> + +<p>The persistence of my prayers, the deep contrition of my soul, have +found favor with the Lord, who has manifested to me his great mercy.</p> + +<p>The Lord, in the words of the prophet, has sent fire to the stronghold +of my spirit, he has illuminated my understanding, he has kindled my +resolution, and he has given me instruction. The working of the Divine +love which animates the Supreme Will has had power, at times, without my +deserving it, to lead me to that condition of prayerful contemplation in +which all the faculties of the soul are in repose. I have cast out from +the lower faculties of my soul every species of image—even her image; +and I am persuaded, if vanity does not deceive me, that, mind and heart +in reconciliation, I have known and enjoyed the Supreme Good that dwells +within the depths of the soul.</p> + +<p>Compared with this good, all else is worthless; compared with this +beauty, all else is deformity. Who would not forget and scorn every +other love for the love of God?</p> + +<p>Yes, the profane image of this woman shall depart, finally and forever, +from my soul. I shall make of my prayers and of my penance a sharp +scourge, and with it I will expel her therefrom, as Christ expelled the +money-lenders from the temple.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>June 18th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>This is the last letter I shall write to you. On the 25th I shall leave +this place without fail.</p> + +<p>I shall soon have the happiness of embracing you. Near you I shall be +stronger; you will infuse courage into me, and lend me the energy in +which I am wanting.</p> + +<p>A tempest of conflicting emotions is raging now in my soul. The disorder +of my ideas may be known by the disorder of what I write.</p> + +<p>Twice I returned to the house of Pepita. I was cold and stern. I was as +I ought to have been, but how much did it not cost me!</p> + +<p>My father told me yesterday that Pepita was indisposed, and would not +receive.</p> + +<p>The thought at once assailed me that the cause of her indisposition +might be her ill-requited love.</p> + +<p>Why did I return her glances of fire? Why did I basely deceive her? Why +did I make her believe I loved her? Why did my vile lips seek hers with +ardor, and communicate the ardor of an unholy love to hers?</p> + +<p>But no; my sin shall not be followed, as its unavoidable consequence, by +another sin!</p> + +<p>What has been, has been, and can not be undone; but a repetition of it +may be avoided, shall be avoided in future.</p> + +<p>On the 25th, I repeat, I shall depart from here without fail.</p> + +<p>The impudent Antoñona has just come to see me. I hid this letter from +her, as if it were a crime to write to you.</p> + +<p>Antoñona remained here only for a moment.</p> + +<p>I arose, and remained standing while I spoke to her, that the visit +might be a short one.</p> + +<p>During this short visit she gave utterance to a thousand absurdities +that afflict me profoundly. Finally, as she was going away, she +exclaimed, in her half-gypsy jargon:</p> + +<p>"Get away, you deceiver! you villain! my curse upon you! You have made +the child sick, and now you are killing her with your subterfuges. May +witches fly away with you, body and bones!"</p> + +<p>Having said this, the fiendish woman gave me, in a coarse plebeian +fashion, six or seven ferocious pinches below the shoulders, as if she +would like to tear the skin from my back in strips; and then went away, +looking daggers at me.</p> + +<p>I do not complain. I deserve this brutal jest, granting it to be a jest. +I deserve that fiends should tear my flesh with red-hot pincers.</p> + +<p>Grant, my God, that Pepita may forget me; let her, if it be necessary, +love another, and be happy with him!</p> + +<p>Can I do more than ask thee this, O my God?</p> + +<p>My father knows nothing, suspects nothing; it is better thus.</p> + +<p>Farewell for a few days, till we see and embrace each other again.</p> + +<p>How changed will you find me! How full of bitterness my heart! How lost +my innocence! How bruised and wounded my soul!</p> + + + +<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.<br /> +PARALIPOMENA.</h3> + + +<p>Here end the letters of Don Luis de Vargas. We should therefore be left +in ignorance of the subsequent fortunes of these lovers, and this simple +and ardent love-story would have remained without an ending, if one +familiar with all the circumstances had not left us the following +narrative:</p> + +<p>No one in the village found anything strange in the fact of Pepita's +being indisposed, or thought, still less, of attributing her +indisposition to a cause of which only we, Pepita herself, Don Luis, the +reverend dean, and the discreet Antoñona, are thus far cognizant.</p> + +<p>They might rather have wondered at the life, of gayety that Pepita had +been leading for some time past, at the daily gatherings at her house, +and the excursions into the country in which she had joined. That Pepita +should return to her habitual seclusion was quite natural.</p> + +<p>Her secret and deeply rooted love for Don Luis was hidden from the +searching glances of Doña Casilda, of Currito, and of all the other +personages of the village of whom mention is made in the letters of Don +Luis. Still less could the public know of it. It never entered into the +head, of any one—no one imagined for a moment that the theologian, the +<i>saint,</i> as they called Don Luis, could become the rival of his father, +or could have succeeded where the redoubtable and powerful Don Pedro de +Vargas had failed—in winning the heart of the lovely, graceful, coy, +and reserved young widow.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the familiarity of the ladies of the village with their +servants, Pepita had allowed none of hers to suspect anything. Only the +lynx-eyed Antoñona, whom nothing could escape, and more especially +nothing that concerned her young mistress, had penetrated the mystery.</p> + +<p>Antoñona did not conceal her discovery from Pepita, nor could Pepita +deny the truth to the woman who had nursed her, who idolized her, and +who, if she delighted in finding out and gossiping about all that took +place in the village, being, as she was, a model scandal-monger, was +yet, in all that related to her mistress, reticent and loyal as but few +are.</p> + +<p>In this manner Antoñona made herself the confidante of Pepita; and +Pepita found great consolation in unburdening her heart to one who, +though she might be cross and vulgar in the frankness with which she +expressed her sentiments, was not so either in the sentiments or the +ideas that she expressed.</p> + +<p>In this may be found the explanation of Antoñona's visits to Don Luis, +as well as of her words, and even of the ferocious and disrespectful +pinches, given in so ill-chosen a spot, with which she bruised his flesh +and wounded his dignity, on the occasion of her last visit to him.</p> + +<p>Not only had Pepita not desired Antoñona to carry messages to Don Luis, +but she did not even know that she had gone to see him. Antoñona had +taken the initiative, and had interfered in the matter simply because +she herself had wanted to do so.</p> + +<p>As we have already said, she had, with wonderful perspicacity, made +herself acquainted with the state of affairs between her mistress and +Don Luis.</p> + +<p>While Pepita herself was still scarcely conscious of the fact that she +loved Don Luis, Antoñona already knew it. Scarcely had Pepita begun to +cast on him those furtive glances, ardent and involuntary, that had +wrought such havoc—glances which had been intercepted by none of those +present when they were given—than Antoñona, who was not present, had +already spoken of them to Pepita. And no sooner had those glances been +returned in kind, than Antoñona also knew it.</p> + +<p>There was but little left, then, for the mistress to confide to a +servant of so much penetration, and who was so skilled in divination of +what passed in the inmost recesses of her breast.</p> + +<p class="top5">Five days after the date of Don Luis's last letter, our narrative +begins.</p> + +<p>It was eleven o'clock in the morning. Pepita was in an apartment on an +upper floor, contiguous to her bedroom and dressing-room, where no one +ever entered without being summoned, save Antoñona.</p> + +<p>The furniture of this apartment was simple, but comfortable and in good +taste. The curtains and the covering of the easy-chairs, the sofas and +the arm-chairs, were of a flowered cotton fabric. On a mahogany table +were writing materials and papers, and in a book-case, also of mahogany, +were many books of devotion and history. The walls were adorned with +pictures—engravings on religious subjects, but with this particularity +in their selection, unheard-of, extraordinary, almost incredible in an +Andalusian village, that, instead of being bad French lithographs, they +were engravings in the best style of Spanish art, as the <i>Spasimo di +Sicilia</i>, of Rafael; the <i>St. Ildefonso and the Virgin</i>, the +<i>Conception</i>, the <i>St. Bernard</i>, and the two <i>Lunettes</i> of Murillo.</p> + +<p>On an antique oak table, supported by fluted columns, was a small +writing-desk, or escritoire, inlaid with shell, mother-of-pearl, ivory, +and brass, and containing a great many little drawers, in which Pepita +kept bills and other papers. On this table were also two porcelain vases +filled with flowers; and, finally, hanging against the walls, were +several flower-pots of Seville Carthusian ware, containing ivy, +geranium, and other plants, and three gilded cages, in which were +canaries and larks.</p> + +<p>This apartment was the retreat of Pepita, where no one entered during +the daytime except the doctor and the reverend vicar, and, in the +evening, only the overseer to settle accounts. This apartment was called +the library, and served the purpose of one.</p> + +<p>Pepita was seated, half reclining, on a sofa, before which stood a small +table with some books upon it.</p> + +<p>She had just risen, and was attired in a light summer wrapper. Her +blonde hair, not yet arranged, looked even more beautiful in its +disorder. Her countenance, somewhat pale, and, although it still +preserved its fresh and youthful aspect, showing dark circles under the +eyes, looked more beautiful than ever under the influence of the malady, +that robbed it of color.</p> + +<p>Pepita showed signs of impatience; she was waiting for some one.</p> + +<p>At last the person she was awaiting, who proved to be the reverend +vicar, arrived, and entered without announcement.</p> + +<p>After the usual salutations the reverend vicar settled himself +comfortably in an easy-chair, and the conversation thus began:</p> + +<p>"I am very glad, my child, that you sent for me; but, even without your +doing so, I was just coming to see you. How pale you are! What is it +that ails you? Have you something of importance to tell me?"</p> + +<p>Pepita began her answer to this series of affectionate inquiries with a +deep sigh; she then said:</p> + +<p>"Do you not divine my malady? Have you not discovered the cause of my +suffering?"</p> + +<p>The vicar made a gesture of denial, and looked at Pepita with something +like terror in his gaze; for he knew nothing of all that had taken +place, and was struck by the vehemence with which she spoke.</p> + +<p>Pepita continued:</p> + +<p>"I ought not to have sent for you, father. I should have gone to the +church myself instead, to speak with you in the confessional, and there +confess my sins. But, unhappily, far from repenting of them my heart has +hardened itself in wickedness. I have neither the courage nor the +desire to speak to the confessor, but only to the friend."</p> + +<p>"What are you saying about sins and hardness of heart? Have you taken +leave of your senses? What sins can you have committed, you who are so +good?"</p> + +<p>"No, father, I am not good. I have been deceiving you; I have been +deceiving myself; I have tried to deceive God."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, calm yourself; speak with moderation and common sense, and +don't talk foolishly."</p> + +<p>"And how shall I avoid talking foolishly when the spirit of evil +possesses me?"</p> + +<p>"Holy Virgin! Don't talk nonsense, child; the demons most to be feared +that take possession of the soul are three, and none of them, I am +certain, can have dared to enter into yours. One is Leviathan, or the +spirit of Pride; the other is Mammon, or the spirit of Avarice; and the +other is Asmodeus or the spirit of Unholy Love."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am the victim of all three; all three hold dominion over me."</p> + +<p>"This is dreadful! Calm yourself, I repeat. The real trouble with you is +that you are out of your head."</p> + +<p>"Would to God it were so! The contrary, unhappily for me, is the case. I +am avaricious, because I possess riches, and do not perform the works +of charity I ought to perform; I am proud, because I scorn the addresses +of my many suitors, not through virtue, not through modesty, but because +I thought them unworthy of my love. God has punished me; God has +permitted the third enemy you have named to take possession of me."</p> + +<p>"How is this, child? What diabolical notion has entered into your mind? +Have you by chance fallen in love? And, if you have, what harm is there +in that? Are you not free? Get married, then, and stop talking nonsense. +I am certain it is my friend Don Pedro de Vargas who has wrought the +miracle. That same Don Pedro is the very devil! I confess I am +surprised, though. I did not think matters had gone quite so far as that +already."</p> + +<p>"But it is not Don Pedro de Vargas I am in love with."</p> + +<p>"And with whom, then?"</p> + +<p>Pepita rose from her seat, went to the door, opened it, looked to see if +any one was listening outside, drew near to the reverend vicar, and, +with signs of the deepest distress, in a trembling voice, and with tears +in her eyes, said, almost in the ear of the good old man:</p> + +<p>"I am hopelessly in love with his son."</p> + +<p>"With whose son?" cried the reverend vicar, who could not yet bring +himself to believe what he had heard.</p> + +<p>"With whose son should it be? I am hopelessly, desperately in love with +Don Luis."</p> + +<p>Consternation and dolorous surprise were depicted on the countenance of +the kind and simple priest. There was a moment's pause; the vicar then +said:</p> + +<p>"But this is a love without hope; a love not to be thought of. Don Luis +will not love you in return."</p> + +<p>In the midst of the tears that clouded the beautiful eyes of Pepita +gleamed a joyful light; her rosy, dewy lips, contracted by sorrow, +parted in a smile, disclosing to view her pearly teeth.</p> + +<p>"He loves me," said Pepita, with a faint and ill-concealed accent of +satisfaction and triumph that rose exultant over her sorrow and her +scruples of conscience.</p> + +<p>The consternation and the astonishment of the reverend vicar here +reached their highest pitch. If the saint to whom he paid his most +fervent devotions had been suddenly cast down from the altar before him, +and had fallen, broken into a thousand fragments at his feet, the +reverend vicar could not have felt greater consternation than he did. He +still looked at Pepita with incredulity, as if doubting whether what she +had said were true, or only a delusion of feminine vanity, so firmly +did he believe in the holiness of Don Luis, and in his +spiritual-mindedness.</p> + +<p>"He loves me," Pepita repeated, in answer to his incredulous glance.</p> + +<p>"Women are worse than the very devil!" said the vicar. "You would set a +snare for the old boy himself."</p> + +<p>"Did I not tell you already that I was very wicked?"</p> + +<p>"Come, come! calm yourself. The mercy of God is infinite. Tell me all +that has happened."</p> + +<p>"What should have happened? That he is dear to me; that I love him; that +I adore him; that he loves me, too, although he strives to conquer his +love, and, in the end, may succeed in doing so; and that you, without +knowing it, are very much to blame for it all!"</p> + +<p>"Well, this caps the climax! What do you mean by saying I am very much +to blame?"</p> + +<p>"With the extreme goodness that is characteristic of you, you have done +nothing but praise Don Luis to me; and I am sure that you have +pronounced still greater eulogies on me to him, although very much less +deserved. What is the natural consequence? Am I of bronze? Have I not +the passions of youth?"</p> + +<p>"You are more than right; I am a dolt: I have contributed, in great +part, to this work of Lucifer."</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar was so truly good, and so full of humility, that, +while pronouncing the preceding words, he showed as much confusion and +remorse as if he were the culprit and Pepita the judge.</p> + +<p>Pepita, conscious of her injustice and want of generosity in thus making +the reverend vicar the accomplice, and scarcely less than the chief +author of her fault, spoke to him thus:</p> + +<p>"Don't torment yourself, father; for God's sake, don't torment yourself! +You see now how perverse I am. I commit the greatest sins, and I want to +throw the responsibility of them on the best and the most virtuous of +men. It is not the praises you have recited to me of Don Luis that have +been my ruin, but my own eyes, and my want of circumspection. Even +though you had never spoken to me of the good qualities of Don Luis, I +should still have discovered them all by hearing him speak; for, after +all, I am not so ignorant, nor so great a fool. And, in any case, I +myself have seen the grace of his person, the natural and untaught +elegance of his manners, his eyes full of fire and intelligence, his +whole self, in a word, which seems to me altogether amiable and +desirable. Your eulogies of him have indeed pleased my vanity, but they +did not awaken my inclinations. Your praises charmed me because they +coincided with my own opinion, and were like the flattering +echo—deadened, indeed, and faint—of my thoughts. The most eloquent +encomium you have pronounced, in my hearing, on Don Luis, was far from +being equal to the encomiums that I, at each moment, at each instant, +silently pronounced upon him in my own soul."</p> + +<p>"Don't excite yourself, child," interrupted the reverend vicar.</p> + +<p>Pepita continued, with still greater exaltation:</p> + +<p>"But what a difference between your encomiums and my thoughts! For you +Don Luis was the exemplary model of the priest, the missionary, the +apostle, now preaching the gospel in distant lands, now endeavoring in +Spain to elevate Christianity, so degraded in our day through the +impiety of some, and the want of virtue, of charity, and of knowledge, +of others. I, on the contrary, pictured him to myself handsome, loving, +forgetting God for me, consecrating his life to me, giving me his soul, +becoming my stay, my support, my sweet companion. I longed to commit a +sacrilegious theft: I dreamed of stealing him from God and from his +temple, like the thief who, proclaiming himself the enemy of Heaven, +robs the sacred monstrance of its most precious jewel. To commit this +theft I have put off the mourning garments of the widow and orphan, and +have decked myself with profane adornments; I have abandoned my +seclusion, and I have sought and gathered around me society. I have +tried to make myself look beautiful; I have cared for every part of this +miserable body—that must one day be lowered into the grave, and be +converted into dust—with an unholy devotion; and, finally, I have +looked at Don Luis with provoking glances, and on shaking hands with him +I have sought to transmit from my veins to his, the inextinguishable +fire that is consuming me."</p> + +<p>"Alas! my child, what grief it gives me to hear this! Who could have +imagined it?" said the vicar.</p> + +<p>"But there is still more," resumed Pepita; "I succeeded in making Don +Luis love me. He declared it to me with his eyes. Yes, his love is as +profound, as ardent as mine. His virtues, his aspirations toward +heavenly things, his manly energy, have all urged him to conquer this +insensate passion. I sought to prevent this. One day, at the end of many +days during which he had stayed away, he came to see me, and found me +alone. When he gave me his hand, I wept; I could not speak, but hell +inspired me with an accursed, mute eloquence that told him of my grief +that he had scorned me, that he did not return my love, that he +preferred another love—a love without stain—to mine. Then he was +unable to resist the temptation, and he approached his lips to my face +to kiss away my tears. Our lips met. If God had not willed that you +should approach at that moment, what would have become of me?"</p> + +<p>"How shameful! my child, how shameful!" said the reverend vicar.</p> + +<p>Pepita covered her face with both hands and began to sob like a +Magdalen. Her hands were, in truth, beautiful, more beautiful even than +Don Luis had described them to be in his letters. Their whiteness, their +pure transparency, the tapering form of the fingers, the roseate hue, +the polish and the brilliancy of the pearl-like nails, all were such as +might turn the head of any man.</p> + +<p>The virtuous vicar could understand, notwithstanding his eighty years, +the fall, or rather the slip, of Don Luis.</p> + +<p>"Child!" he exclaimed, "don't cry so! It breaks my heart to see you. +Calm yourself; Don Luis has no doubt repented of his sin; do you repent +likewise, and nothing more need be said. God will pardon you both, and +make a couple of saints of you. Since Don Luis is going away the day +after to-morrow, it is a sure sign that virtue has triumphed in him, and +that he flies from you, as he should, that he may do penance for his +sin, fulfill his vow, and return to his vocation."</p> + +<p>"That is all very well," replied Pepita; "fulfill his vow, return to his +vocation, after giving me my death-wound! Why did he love me, why did he +encourage me, why did he deceive me? His kiss was a brand, it was as a +hot iron with which he marked me and stamped me as his slave. Now that I +am marked and enslaved, he abandons and betrays and destroys me. A good +beginning to give to his missions, his preachings, and gospel triumphs! +It shall not be! By Heaven, it shall not be!"</p> + +<p>This outbreak of anger and scorned love confounded the reverend vicar.</p> + +<p>Pepita had risen. Her attitude, her gesture, had something in them of +tragic animation. Her eyes gleamed like daggers; they shone like two +suns. The vicar was silent, and regarded her almost with terror. She +paced with hasty steps up and down the apartment. She did not now seem +like a timid gazelle, but like an angry lioness.</p> + +<p>"What!" she said, once more facing the vicar, "has he nothing to do but +laugh at me, tear my heart to pieces, humiliate it, trample it under +foot, after having cheated me out of it? He shall remember me! He shall +pay me for this! If he is so holy, if he is so virtuous, why did he, +with his glance, promise me everything? If he loves God so much, why +does he seek to hurt one of God's poor creatures? Is this charity? Is +this religion? No; it is pitiless selfishness."</p> + +<p>Pepita's anger could not last long. After she had spoken the last words, +it turned to dejection. She sank into a chair, weeping bitterly, and +abandoning herself to an anguish heart-breaking to witness.</p> + +<p>The vicar's heart was touched with pity; but he recovered himself on +seeing that the enemy gave signs of yielding.</p> + +<p>"Pepita, child," he said, "be reasonable; don't torment yourself in this +way. Console yourself with the thought that it was not without a hard +struggle he was able to conquer himself; that he has not deceived you; +that he loves you with his whole soul, but that God and his duty come +first. This life is short, and soon passes. In heaven you will be +reunited, and will love each other, as the angels love. God will accept +your sacrifice; he will reward you, and repay you with interest. Even +your self-love ought to be satisfied. How great must be your merit, when +you have caused a man like Don Luis to waver in his resolution, and even +to sin! How deep must be the wound you have made in his heart! Let this +suffice you. Be generous! be courageous! Be his rival in firmness. Let +him depart; cast out from your heart the fire of impure love; love him +as your neighbor, for the love of God. Guard his image in your memory, +but as that of the creature, reserving to the Creator the noblest part +of your soul. I know not what I am saying to you, my child, for I am +very much troubled; but you have a great deal of intelligence and a +great deal of common sense, and you will understand what I mean. +Besides, there are powerful worldly reasons against this absurd love, +even if the vocation and the vow of Don Luis were not opposed to it. His +father is your suitor. He aspires to your hand, even though you do not +love him. Does it look well that the son should turn out now to be the +rival of his father? Will not the father be displeased with the son for +loving you? See how dreadful all this is, and control yourself for the +sake of Jesus and his blessed Mother."</p> + +<p>"How easy it is to give advice!" returned Pepita, becoming a little +calmer. "How hard for me to follow it, when there is a fierce and +unchained tempest, as it were, raging in my soul! I am afraid I shall go +mad."</p> + +<p>"The advice I give you is for your own good. Let Don Luis depart. +Absence is a great remedy for the malady of love. In giving himself up +to his studies, and consecrating himself to the service of the altar, he +will be cured of his passion. When he is far away, you will recover your +serenity by degrees, and will preserve in your memory only a grateful +and melancholy recollection of him that will do you no harm. It will be +like a beautiful poem whose music will harmonize your existence. Even if +all your desires could be fulfilled—earthly love lasts, after all, but +a short time. The delight the imagination anticipates in its +enjoyment—what is it in comparison with the bitter dregs that remain +behind, when the cup has been drained to the bottom? How much better is +it that your love, hardly yet contaminated, hardly despoiled of its +purity, should be dissipated, and exhale itself now, rising up to heaven +like a cloud of incense, than that, after it is once satisfied, it +should perish through satiety! Have the courage to put away from your +lips the cup while you have hardly tasted of its contents. Make of them +a libation and an offering to the Divine Redeemer. He will give you, in +exchange, the draught he offered to the Samaritan—a draught that does +not satiate, that quenches the thirst, and that produces eternal life."</p> + +<p>"How good you are, father! Your holy words lend me courage. I will +control myself; I will conquer myself. It would be shameful—would it +not?—that Don Luis should be able to control and conquer himself, and +that I should not be able to do so? Let him depart. He is going away the +day after to-morrow; let him go with God's blessing. See his card. He +was here with his father to take leave of me, and I would not receive +him. I do not even want to preserve the poetical remembrance of him of +which you speak. This love has been a nightmare; I will cast it away +from me."</p> + +<p>"Good! very good! It is thus that I want to see you—energetic, +courageous."</p> + +<p>"Ah, father, God has cast down my pride with this blow. I was insolent +in my arrogance, and the scorn of this man was necessary to my +self-abasement. Could I be more humbled or more resigned than I am now? +Don Luis is right: I am not worthy of him. However great the efforts I +might make, I could not succeed in elevating myself to him and +comprehending him, in putting my spirit into perfect communication with +his. I am a rude country girl, unlearned, uncultured; and he—there is +no science he does not understand, no secret of which he is ignorant, no +region of the intellectual world, however exalted, to which he may not +soar. Thither on the wings of his genius does he mount; and me he leaves +behind in this lower sphere, poor, ignorant woman that I am, incapable +of following him even in my hopes or with my aspirations."</p> + +<p>"But, Pepita, for Heaven's sake don't say such things, or think them! +Don Luis does not scorn you because you are ignorant, or because you are +incapable of comprehending him, or for any other of those absurd reasons +that you are stringing together. He goes away because he must fulfill +his obligation toward God; and you should rejoice that he is going away, +for you will then forget your love for him, and God will reward you for +the sacrifice you make."</p> + +<p class="top5">Pepita, who had left off crying, and had dried her tears with her +handkerchief, answered quietly:</p> + +<p>"Very well, father; I shall be very glad of it; I am almost glad now +that he is going away. I long for to-morrow to pass, and for the time to +come when Antoñona shall say to me on wakening, 'Don Luis is gone.' You +shall see then how peace and serenity will spring up again in my heart."</p> + +<p>"God grant it may be so!" said the reverend vicar; and, convinced that +he had wrought a miracle and almost cured Pepita's malady, he took leave +of her and went home, unable to repress a certain feeling of vanity at +the thought of the influence he had exercised over the noble spirit of +this charming woman.</p> + +<p>Pepita, who had risen as the reverend vicar was about to take his leave, +after she had closed the door, stood for a moment immovable in the +middle of the room, her gaze fixed on space, her eyes tearless. A poet +or an artist, seeing her thus, would have been reminded of Ariadne, as +Catullus describes her, after Theseus has abandoned her on the island +of Naxos. All at once, as if she had but just succeeded in untying the +knot of a cord that was strangling her, Pepita broke into heart-rending +sobs, let loose a torrent of tears, and threw herself down on the tiled +floor of her apartment. There, her face buried in her hands, her hair +unbound, her dress disordered, she continued to sigh and moan.</p> + +<p>She might have remained thus for an indefinite time if Antoñona had not +come to her. Antoñona had heard her sobs from without and hurried to her +apartment. When she saw her mistress extended on the floor, Antoñona +gave way to a thousand extravagant expressions of fury.</p> + +<p>"Here's a pretty sight!" she cried; "that sneak, that blackguard, that +old fool, what a way he has to console his friends! I shouldn't wonder +if he has committed some piece of barbarity—given a couple of kicks to +this poor child, perhaps; and now I suppose he has gone back to the +church to get everything ready to sing the funeral chant, and sprinkle +her with hyssop, and bury her out of sight without more ado."</p> + +<p>Antoñona was about forty, and a hard worker—energetic, and stronger +than many a laborer. She often lifted up, with scarcely more than the +strength of her hand, a skin of oil or of wine, weighing nearly ninety +pounds, and placed it on the back of a mule, or carried a bag of wheat +up to the garret where the grain was kept. Although Pepita was not a +feather, Antoñona now lifted her up in her arms from the floor as if she +had been one, and placed her carefully on the sofa, as though she were +some delicate and precious piece of porcelain that she feared to break.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of all this?" asked Antoñona. "I wager anything +that drone of a vicar has been preaching you a sermon as bitter as +aloes, and has left you now with your heart torn to pieces with grief."</p> + +<p>Pepita continued to weep and sob without answering.</p> + +<p>"Come, leave off crying, and tell me what is the matter. What has the +vicar said to you?"</p> + +<p>"He said nothing that could offend me," finally answered Pepita.</p> + +<p>Then, seeing that Antoñona was waiting anxiously to hear her speak, and +feeling the need of unburdening herself to some one who could sympathize +more fully with her, and, humanly speaking, could better comprehend her +than the vicar, Pepita spoke as follows:</p> + +<p>"The reverend vicar has admonished me gently to repent of my sins; to +allow Don Luis to go away; to rejoice at his departure; to forget him. I +have said yes to everything; I have promised him to rejoice at Don +Luis's departure; I have tried to forget him, and even to hate him. But +look you, Antoñona, I can not; it is an undertaking superior to my +strength. While the vicar was here, I thought I had strength for +everything; but no sooner had he gone than, as if God had let go his +hold of me, I lost my courage, and fell, crushed with sorrow, on the +floor. I had dreamed of a happy life at the side of the man I love; I +already saw myself elevated to him by the miraculous power of love; my +poor mind in perfect communion with his sublime intellect; my will one +with his; both thinking the same thought; our hearts beating in unison. +And now God has taken him away from me, and I am left alone, without +hope or consolation. Is not this frightful? The arguments of the +reverend vicar are just and full of wisdom; for the time, they convinced +me. But he has gone away, and all those arguments now seem to me +worthless—a tissue of words, lies, entanglements, and sophistries. I +love Don Luis, and this argument is more powerful than all other +arguments put together. And if he loves me in return, why does he not +leave everything and come to me, break the vows he has taken, and +renounce the obligations he has contracted? I did not know what love +was; now I know; there is nothing stronger on earth or in heaven. What +would I not do for Don Luis? And he—he does nothing for me! Perhaps he +does not love me. No; Don Luis does not love me. I have deceived +myself; I was blinded by vanity. If Don Luis loved me, he would +sacrifice his plans, his vows, his fame, his aspirations to be a saint +and a light of the Church, he would sacrifice all to me. God forgive me, +what I am about to say is horrible, but I feel it here in the depths of +my heart, it burns here in my fevered brow: for him I would give even +the salvation of my soul!"</p> + +<p>"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Antoñona.</p> + +<p>"It is true; may our blessed Lady of Sorrows pardon me—I am mad—I know +not what I say. I blaspheme!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, child; you are talking indeed a little naughtily. Heaven help us! +To think how this cox-comb of a theologian has turned your head! Well, +if I were in your place, I would not take Heaven to task, which is in no +wise to blame, but this jackanapes of a collegian, and I would have it +out with him, or never again call myself Pepita Ximenez. I should like +to go hunt him up, and bring him here to you by the ear, and make him go +down on his knees before you, and beg your pardon."</p> + +<p>"No, Antoñona; I see that my madness is contagious, and that you are +raving, too. There is, in fact, nothing left for me to do but what the +reverend vicar advises. And I will do it, even though it should cost me +my life. If I die for him, he will then love me; he will cherish my +image in his memory, my love in his heart; and God, who is so good, will +permit me to see him again in heaven with the eyes of the soul, and will +let our spirits mingle together and love each other there."</p> + +<p>Antoñona, although of a rugged nature, and not at all sentimental, on +hearing these words felt the tears start to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, child!" she said; "do you want to make me take out my +handkerchief and begin to bellow like a calf? Calm yourself, and don't +talk about dying, even in jest. I can see that your nerves are very much +excited. Shan't I bring you a cup of linden tea?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks; leave me; you see how calm I am now."</p> + +<p>"I shall close the window, then, to see if you can sleep. How should you +feel well, when you have not slept for days? The devil take that same +Don Luis, with his fancy for making himself a priest! A nice price you +are paying for it!"</p> + +<p>Pepita had closed her eyes; she was calm and silent, weary now of her +colloquy with Antoñona.</p> + +<p>The latter, either thinking she was asleep, or hoping her to be so, bent +over Pepita, imprinted a kiss softly and slowly on her white forehead, +smoothed oat the folds of her dress, arranged the windows so as to leave +the room in semi-obscurity, and went out on tiptoe, closing the door +behind her without making the slightest noise.</p> + +<p class="top5">While these things were taking place at the house of Pepita, Don Luis de +Vargas in his was neither happier nor more tranquil than was she +herself.</p> + +<p>His father, who scarcely let a day pass without riding out into the +country, had to-day wished to take Don Luis with him; but, with the +pretext of a headache, he had excused himself, and Don Pedro had gone +without him. Don Luis had spent the whole morning alone, delivered up to +his melancholy thoughts, and continuing firm as a rock in his resolution +of blotting from his soul the image of Pepita, and of consecrating +himself wholly to God.</p> + +<p>Let it not be supposed, however, that he did not love the young widow. +We have already, in his letters, seen the proof of the vehemence of his +passion for her, but he continued his efforts to curb it by means of the +devout sentiments and elevated reflections of which he has given us in +his letters so extended a specimen, and of which we may here omit a +repetition, in order not to appear prolix.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, if we examine into this matter closely, we shall find that the +reasons which militated in the breast of Don Luis against his love for +Pepita were not only his vow to himself, which, though unconfirmed, was +binding in his eyes, or the love of God, or respect for his father, +whose rival he did not wish to be, or, finally, the vocation which he +felt himself to have for the priesthood. There were other reasons of a +more doubtful character than these.</p> + +<p>Don Luis was stubborn; he was obstinate; he had that quality of soul +which, well directed, constitutes what is called firmness of character, +and there was nothing that lowered him more in his own eyes than to feel +himself obliged to change his opinions or his conduct. The purpose of +his life, a purpose which he had declared and maintained on all +occasions, his moral ideal, in a word, was that of an aspirant to +holiness, of a man consecrated to God, of one imbued with the sublimest +religious teachings. All this could not fall to earth, as it would fall, +if he allowed himself to be carried away by his love for Pepita, without +great discredit. Although the price, indeed, was in this case +incomparably higher, yet Don Luis felt that, should he yield to his +passion, he would be following the example of Esau, selling his +birthright and bringing opprobrium on his name.</p> + +<p>Men, as a rule, allow themselves to be the plaything of circumstances; +they let themselves be carried along by the current of events, instead +of devoting all their energies to one single aim. We do not choose our +part in life, but accept and play the part allotted us, that which blind +fortune assigns to us. The profession, the political faith, the entire +life of many men depend on chance circumstances, on what is fortuitous, +on the caprice and the unexpected turns of fate.</p> + +<p>Against all this the pride of Don Luis rebelled with titanic power. What +would be thought of him, and above all, what would he think of himself +if the ideal of his life, the new man that he had created in his soul, +if all his plans of virtue, of honor, and even of holy ambition, should +vanish in an instant, should melt away in the warmth of a glance, at the +fugitive flame of a pair of beautiful eyes, as the hoar-frost melts in +the yet mild ray of the morning sun?</p> + +<p>These and other reasons of a like egotistic nature also militated, in +the breast of Don Luis, side by side with more weighty and legitimate +ones, against the widow; but every argument clothed itself in the same +religious garb, so that Don Luis himself was unable to recognize and +distinguish between them, believing to be the love of God not only what +was in truth the love of God, but also self-love. He recalled to mind, +for instance, the examples of many saints who had resisted greater +temptations than his, and he did not wish to be less than they. And he +recalled to mind, above all, the notable firmness of St. Chrysostom, who +was able to disregard the caresses of a tender and good mother, and her +tears and gentle entreaties, and all the eloquent and touching words she +spoke to him, in the very room where he was born, to the end that he +might not abandon her and become a priest. And, after reflecting on +this, Don Luis could not tolerate in himself the weakness of being +unable to scorn the entreaties of a woman who was a stranger to him, +whom he had known for so short a time, and of still wavering between his +duty and the attractions of one who was, perhaps, after all, rather than +enamored of him, merely a coquette.</p> + +<p>Don Luis then reflected on the supreme elevation of the sacerdotal +dignity to which he was called, regarding it in his thoughts as superior +to all the dignities and unsatisfying honors of the world; since it was +founded, neither by any mortal man, nor by the caprice of the variable +and servile populace, nor by the irruption or invasion of barbarians, +nor by the violence of rebellious armies urged on by greed, nor by angel +nor archangel, nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete himself. +How, for a motive so unworthy, for a mere woman, for a tear or two, +feigned, perhaps, scorn that august dignity, that authority that was not +conceded by God even to the archangels nearest to his throne? How +should he descend to be confounded among the obscure people, and become +one of the flock—he who had dreamed of being the shepherd, tying and +untying on earth what God should tie and untie in heaven, pardoning +sins, regenerating the people by water and by the spirit, teaching them +in the name of an infallible authority, pronouncing judgments that +should be ratified and confirmed by the Lord of the heavens—he, the +instructor and the minister in tremendous mysteries inscrutable by human +reason, calling down from heaven, not, like Elias, the flame that +consumes the victim, but the Holy Spirit, the Word made flesh, the river +of grace that purifies hearts and makes them clean like unalloyed gold?</p> + +<p>When Don Luis let his mind dwell on these thoughts, his spirit took +wings and soared up above the clouds into the empyrean, and poor Pepita +Ximenez remained below, far away, and hardly within sight.</p> + +<p>But the wings of his imagination soon drooped, and the spirit of Don +Luis touched earth again. Again he saw Pepita, so graceful, so young, so +ingenuous, and so enamored. Pepita combated in his soul his firmest and +most deep-seated resolutions, and Don Luis feared that in the end she +would put them all to flight.</p> + +<p>In this way was Don Luis allowing himself to be tormented by opposing +thoughts, that made war on each other, when Currito, without asking +leave or license, entered his room.</p> + +<p>Currito, who had held his cousin in very slight esteem so long as he was +only a student of theology, now regarded him with wonder and veneration, +looking upon him, from the moment when he had seen him manage Lucero so +skillfully, as something more than human.</p> + +<p>To know theology, and to be ignorant of horsemanship, was something +unflattering to Don Luis in the eyes of Currito; but when Currito saw +that, in addition to his learning, and to all those other matters of +which he himself knew nothing, although he supposed them to be difficult +and perplexing, Don Luis knew, besides, how to keep his seat so +admirably on the back of a fiery horse, his veneration and his affection +for his cousin knew no bounds. Currito was an idler, a good-for-nothing, +a very block of wood, but he had an affectionate and loyal heart.</p> + +<p>To Don Luis, who was the idol of Currito, happened what happens to all +superior natures when inferior persons take a liking to them. Don Luis +permitted himself to be loved, that is to say, he was governed +despotically by Currito in matters of little importance. And, as for men +like Don Luis there are hardly any matters of importance in common +daily life, the result was that Don Luis was led about by Currito like a +little dog.</p> + +<p>"I have come for you," the latter said, "to take you with me to the +club-house, which is full of people to-day, and presents a very animated +appearance. What is the use of sitting here longer, gazing into vacancy, +as if you were waiting to catch flies?"</p> + +<p>Don Luis, without offering any resistance, and as if these words were a +command, took his hat and cane, and saying, "Let us go wherever you +wish," followed Currito, who led the way, very well pleased with the +influence he exercised over his cousin.</p> + +<p>The club-house was full of people, owing to the festivities of the +morrow, which was St. John's day. Besides the gentry of the village, +many strangers were there, who had come in from the neighboring villages +to be present at the fair and the vigil in the evening.</p> + +<p>The principal point of reunion was the court-yard, which was paved with +marble. In its center played a fountain, which was adorned with +flower-pots containing roses, pinks, sweet-basil, and other flowers. +Around this court-yard ran a corridor or gallery, supported by marble +columns, in which, as well as in the various saloons that opened into +it, were tables for <i>ombre</i>, others with newspapers lying on them, +others where coffee and other refreshments were served, and finally, +lounges, benches, and several easy-chairs. The walls were like snow, +from frequent whitening; nor were pictures wanting for their adornment. +There were French colored lithographs, a minute explanation of the +subject of each being written, both in French and in Spanish below. Some +of them represented scenes to The life of Napoleon, from Toulon to St. +Helena; others, the adventures of Matilda and Malek-Adel; others. +Incidents in love and war, in the lives of the Templar, Rebecca, Lady +Rowena, and Ivanhoe; and others, the gallantries, the intrigues, the +lapses and the conversions of Louis XIV. and Mademoiselle de la +Vallière.</p> + +<p>Currito took Don Luis, and Don Luis allowed himself to be taken, to the +saloon where were gathered the cream of the fashion, the dandies and +<i>cocodés</i> of the village and of the surrounding district. Prominent +among these was the Count of Genazahar, of the neighboring city of—. +The Count was an illustrious and much admired personage. He had made +visits of great length to Madrid and Seville, and, whether as a country +dandy or as a young nobleman, was always attired by the most fashionable +tailors.</p> + +<p>The Count of Genazahar was a little past thirty. He was good-looking, +and he knew it; and could boast of his prowess in peace and in war, in +duels and in love-making. The Count, however—and this notwithstanding +the fact that he had been one of the most persistent suitors of +Pepita—had received the sugar-coated pill of refusal that she was +accustomed to bestow on those who paid their addresses to her and +aspired to her hand.</p> + +<p>He had not yet recovered from the irritation produced in his proud heart +by this rejection. Love had turned into hatred, and the count lost no +occasion of giving utterance to his feelings, holding Pepita up, on such +occasions, to the most merciless ridicule.</p> + +<p>The count was engaged in this agreeable exercise, when, by an evil +chance, Don Luis and Currito approached, and joined the crowd that was +listening to the odd species of panegyric, which opened to receive them. +Don Luis, as if the devil himself had had the arrangement of the matter, +found himself face to face with the count, who was speaking as follows:</p> + +<p>"She's a cunning one, this same Pepita Ximenez, with more fancies and +whims than the Princess Micomicona. She wants to make us forget that she +was born in poverty, and lived in poverty until she married that +accursed usurer, Don Gumersindo, and took possession of his dollars. The +only good action this same widow has performed in her life was to +conspire with Satan to send the rogue quickly to hell, and free the +earth from such a contamination and plague. Pepita now has a hobby for +virtue and for chastity. All that may be very well; but how do we know +that she has not a secret intrigue with some plowboy, and is not +deceiving the world as if she were Queen Artemisia herself?"</p> + +<p>People of quiet tastes, who seldom take part in reunions of men only, +may perhaps be scandalized by this language; it may appear to them +indecent and brutal, even to the point of incredibility; but those who +know the world will confess that language like this is very generally +employed in it, and that the most amiable and agreeable women, the most +honorable matrons, if they chance to have an enemy, or even without +having one, are often made the subjects of accusations no less infamous +and vile than those made by the count against Pepita; for scandal is +often indulged in, or, to speak more accurately, dishonor and insult are +disseminated, for the purpose of showing wit and the power to entertain.</p> + +<p>Don Luis—who, from a child, had been accustomed to the consideration +and respect of those around him, first, of the servants and dependents +of his father, who gratified him in all his wishes, and then, of every +one in the seminary, where, as well because he was a nephew of the dean, +as on account of his own merits, he had never been contradicted in +anything, but, on the contrary, always pleased and flattered—stood, +when he heard the insolent count thus drag in the dust the name of the +woman he loved, as if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet.</p> + +<p>But how undertake her defense? He knew, indeed, that although he was +neither husband, brother, nor other relative of Pepita's, he might yet +come forward in her defense, as a man of honor; but he saw well the +scandal this would give rise to, since, far from saying a word in her +favor, all the other persons present joined in applauding the wit of the +count. He, already the minister, almost, of a God of peace, could not be +the one to give the lie to this ruffian, and thus expose himself to the +risk of a quarrel.</p> + +<p>Don Luis was on the point of departing in silence. But his heart would +not consent to this, and, striving to clothe himself with an authority +which was justified neither by his years nor by his countenance, where +the beard had scarcely begun to make its appearance, nor by his presence +in that place, he began to speak with earnest eloquence in denunciation +of all slanderers, and to reproach the count, with the freedom of a +Christian and in severe accents, with the vileness of his conduct.</p> + +<p>This was to preach in the desert, or worse. The count answered his +homily with gibes and jests; the by-standers, among whom were many +strangers, took the part of the jester, notwithstanding the fact that +Don Luis was the son of the squire. Even Currito, who was of no account +whatever, and who was, besides, a coward, although he did not laugh, yet +made no effort to take the part of his friend, and the latter was +obliged to withdraw, disturbed and humiliated by the ridicule he had +drawn on himself.</p> + +<p class="top5">"This flower only was wanting to complete the nosegay," muttered poor +Don Luis between his teeth when he had reached his house and shut +himself up in his room, vexed and ill at ease because of the jeers of +which he had been the butt. He exaggerated them to himself; they seemed +to him unendurable. He threw himself into a chair, depressed and +disheartened, and a thousand contradictory ideas assailed his mind at +once.</p> + +<p>The blood of his father, which boiled in his veins, incited him to +anger, and urged him to throw aside the clerical garb, as he had in the +beginning been advised to do in the village, and then give the count his +deserts; but the whole future he had planned for himself would be thus, +at a blow, destroyed. He pictured to himself the dean disowning him; and +even the Pope, who had already sent the pontifical dispensation +permitting him to be ordained before the required age, and the bishop +of the diocese, who had based the petition for the dispensation on his +approved virtue and learning and on the firmness of his vocation, all +appeared before him now to reproach him.</p> + +<p>Then the humorous theory of his father in regard to those other +arguments, in addition to those of persuasion, of which the apostle St. +James, the bishops of the middle ages, and St. Ignatius Loyola had made +use, occurred to his mind, and it seemed to him now not so preposterous +as before, and he almost repented not having put them into practice.</p> + +<p>He then recalled to mind the custom of an orthodox doctor, a +distinguished philosopher of Persia, of our own day, mentioned in a book +recently written on that country—a custom which consisted in punishing +with harsh words his hearers and pupils when they laughed at his +teachings or could not understand them, and, if this did not suffice, in +descending from his chair, saber in hand, and giving them all a beating. +This method, as it appears, had proved efficacious, especially in +controversy; although it had chanced that the said philosopher, coming +across an opponent of the same way of thinking as himself, had received +from him a severe wound in the face.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, in the midst of his mortification and ill-humor, could not +help laughing at the absurdity of this recollection. He thought there +were not wanting in Spain philosophers who would willingly adopt the +Persian method; and, if he himself did not put it into practice, it was +certainly not through fear of the wounds he might receive, but through +considerations of greater weight.</p> + +<p>"I did very wrong in preaching there," he said to himself. "I should +have remained silent. Our Lord Jesus Christ has said, 'Give not that +which is holy to dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest +they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.'</p> + +<p>"But, no; why should I complain? Why should I return insult for insult? +Why should I allow myself to be vanquished by anger! Many holy fathers +have said, 'Anger in a priest is even worse than lasciviousness.' The +anger of priests has caused many tears to be shed, and has been the +cause of terrible evils.</p> + +<p>"Anger perhaps it was—this terrible counselor—that at times persuaded +them that it was necessary for the people to shed blood at the Divine +command, and that brought before their sanguinary eyes the vision of +Isaiah; they have then seen, and caused their fanatic followers to see, +the meek Lamb converted into an inexorable avenger, descending from the +summit of Edom, proud in the multitude of his strength, trampling the +nations under foot, as the treader tramples the grapes in the +wine-press, their garments raised, and covered with blood to the thighs. +Ah, no; my God! I am about to become thy minister. Thou art a God of +peace, and my first duty should be meekness. Thou makest the sun to +shine on the just and the unjust, and pourest down upon all alike the +fertilizing rain of thy inexhaustible goodness. Thou art our Father who +dwellest in the heavens, and we should be perfect, even as thou art +perfect, pardoning those who have offended us, and asking thee to pardon +them, because they know not what they do. I should recall to mind the +beatitudes of the Scripture: Blessed are ye when they revile you and +persecute you, and say all manner of evil things against you. The +minister of God, or he who is about to become his minister, must be +humble, peaceable, meek of heart; not like the oak that lifts itself up +proudly, until the thunderbolt strike it, but like the fragrant herbs of +the woods, and the modest flowers of the fields, that give sweeter and +more grateful perfume after the rustic has trodden them under foot."</p> + +<p>In these and other meditations of a like nature the hours passed until +three o'clock, when Don Pedro, who had just returned from the country, +entered his son's room to call him to dinner. The gay joviality of his +father, his jest, his affectionate attentions daring the meal, were all +of no avail to draw Don Luis from his melancholy, or to give him an +appetite; he ate little, and scarcely spoke while they were at table.</p> + +<p>Although much troubled by the silent melancholy of his son, whose +health, though indeed robust, was yet not beyond risk of being affected, +Don Pedro, who rose with the dawn and had a busy time of it during the +day, when he had finished his after-dinner cigar and taken his cup of +coffee and his glass of anisette, felt fatigued, and went, according to +his custom, to take his two or three hours of <i>siesta</i>.</p> + +<p>Don Luis had taken good care not to draw the attention of his father to +the offense done him by the Count of Genazahar. His father, who, for his +part, had no intention of fitting himself to celebrate mass, and who, +besides, was not of a very meek disposition, would have rushed +instantly, had he done so, to take the vengeance Don Luis had failed to +take.</p> + +<p>When his father had retired, Don Luis also left the dining-room, that he +might, in the seclusion of his own apartment, give himself up +undisturbed to his thoughts.</p> + +<p class="top5">He had been sunk in them for a long time, seated before his desk, with +his elbows resting upon it, when he heard a noise close by. He raised +his eyes, and saw standing beside him the meddlesome Antoñona, who, +although of such massive proportions, had entered like a shadow, and was +now watching him attentively with a mixture of pity and of anger in her +glance.</p> + +<p>Antoñona, taking advantage of the hour in which the servants dined and +Don Pedro slept, had penetrated thus far without being observed, and had +opened the door of the room and closed it behind her so gently that Don +Luis, even if he had been less absorbed in meditation than he was, would +not have noticed it.</p> + +<p>She had come resolved to hold a very serious conference with Don Luis, +but she did not quite know what she was going to say to him. +Nevertheless, she had asked heaven or hell, whichever of the two it may +have been, to loosen her tongue and bestow upon her the gift of speech; +not such grotesque and vulgar speech as she generally used, but correct, +elegant, and adapted to the noble reflections and beautiful things she +thought it necessary for the carrying out of her purpose to say.</p> + +<p>When Don Luis saw Antoñona, he frowned, and showed by his manner how +much this visit displeased him, at the same time saying roughly:</p> + +<p>"What do you want here? Go away!"</p> + +<p>"I have come to call you to account about my young mistress," returned +Antoñona, quietly, "and I shall not go away until you have answered +me."</p> + +<p>She then drew a chair toward the table and sat down in it, facing Don +Luis with coolness and effrontery.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, seeing there was no help for it, restrained his anger, armed +himself with patience, and, in accents less harsh than before, +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Say what you have to say!"</p> + +<p>"I have to say," resumed Antoñona, "that what you are plotting against +my mistress is a piece of wickedness. You are behaving like a villain. +You have bewitched her; you have given her some malignant potion. The +poor angel is going to die; she neither eats nor sleeps, nor has a +moment's peace, on account of you. To-day she has had two or three +hysterical attacks at the bare thought of your going away. A good deed +you have done before becoming a priest! Tell me, wretch, why did you not +stay where you were, with your uncle, instead of coming here? She, who +was so free, so completely mistress of her own will, enslaving that of +others, and allowing her own to be taken captive by none, has fallen +into your treacherous snares. Your hypocritical sanctity was, doubtless, +the lure you employed. With your theologies and your pious humbugs you +have acted like the wily and cruel sportsman, who attracts to him by his +whistle the silly thrushes, only to strangle them in the net."</p> + +<p>"Antoñona," returned Don Luis, "leave me in peace. For God's sake, +cease to torture me! I am a villain; I confess it. I ought not to have +looked at your mistress; I ought not to have allowed her to believe that +I loved her; but I loved her, and I love her still, with my whole heart; +and I have given her no other potion or philter than the love I have for +her. It is my duty, nevertheless, to cast away, to forget this love. God +commands me to do so. Do you imagine that the sacrifice I make will not +be—is not already—a tremendous one? Pepita ought to arm herself with +fortitude and make a similar sacrifice."</p> + +<p>"You do not give even that consolation to the unhappy creature," replied +Antoñona. "You sacrifice voluntarily, on the altar, this woman who loves +you, who is already yours—your victim. But she—what claim has she on +you that she should offer you up as a sacrifice? What is the precious +jewel she is going to renounce, what the beautiful ornament she is going +to cast into the flames, but an ill-requited love? How is she going to +give to God what she does not possess? Is she going to try to cheat God, +and say to him: 'My God, since he does not love me, here he is; I offer +him up to you; I will not love him either.' God never laughs—if he did, +he would laugh at such a present as that!"</p> + +<p>Don Luis, confounded, did not know what answer to return to these +arguments of Antoñona, more atrocious than her former pinches. Besides, +it was repugnant to him to discuss the metaphysics of love with a +servant.</p> + +<p>"Let us leave aside," he said, "these idle discussions. I can not cure +the malady of your mistress. What would you have me do?"</p> + +<p>"What would I have you do?" replied Antoñona, more gently, and with +insinuating accents; "I will tell you what I would have you do. If you +can not cure the malady of my mistress, you should, at least, alleviate +it a little. Are you not saintly? Well, the saints are compassionate, +and courageous besides. Don't run away like an ill-mannered coward, +without saying good-by. Come to see my mistress, who is sick. Do this +work of mercy."</p> + +<p>"And what would be gained by such a visit? It would aggravate her +malady, instead of curing it."</p> + +<p>"It will not do so; you don't see the matter in its proper light. You +shall go to see her, and, with your honeyed tongue and the gift of the +gab that nature has bestowed upon you, you will put some resignation +into her soul, and leave her consoled for your departure; and if you +tell her, in addition to this, that you love her, and that it is only +for the sake of God you are leaving her, her woman's vanity, at least, +will not be wounded."</p> + +<p>"What you propose to me is to tempt God; it is dangerous both for her +and for me."</p> + +<p>"And why should it be to tempt God? Since God can see the rectitude and +the purity of your intentions, will he not grant you his favor and his +grace that you may not yield to temptation during the visit to her, +which it is but justice you should make? Ought you not to fly to her to +deliver her from despair, and bring her back to the right path? If she +should die of grief at seeing herself scorned; or if, in a frenzy, she +should seize a rope and hang herself to a beam, I tell you, your remorse +would be harder to bear than the flames of pitch and sulphur that +surround the caldrons of Lucifer."</p> + +<p>"This is horrible! I would not have her grow desperate. I shall arm +myself with courage—I will go to see her."</p> + +<p>"May Heaven bless you! But my heart told me you would go. How good you +are!"</p> + +<p>"When do you wish me to go?"</p> + +<p>"To-night, at ten o'clock precisely. I will be at the street-door +waiting for you, and will take you to her."</p> + +<p>"Does she know you have come to see me?"</p> + +<p>"She does not—it was all my own idea; but I will prepare her +cautiously, so that the surprise, the unexpected joy of your visit, may +not be too much for her. You promise me to come?"</p> + +<p>"I will go."</p> + +<p>"Good-by. Don't fail to come. At ten o'clock precisely. I shall be at +the door."</p> + +<p>And Antoñona hurried away, descended the steps two at a time, and so +gained the street.</p> + +<p class="top5">It can not be denied that Antoñona displayed great prudence on this +occasion, and that her language was so dignified and proper that some +may think it apocryphal, if there were not the very best authority for +all that is related here, and if we did not know, besides, the wonders +the natural cleverness of a woman may work when she is spurred on by +interest or by some strong passion.</p> + +<p>Great, indeed, was the affection Antoñona entertained for her mistress, +and, seeing her so much in love and in such desperate case, she could do +no less than seek a remedy for her ills. The consent she had succeeded +in obtaining from Don Luis to her request that he should pay a visit to +Pepita was an unexpected triumph; and, in order to derive the greatest +possible advantage from this triumph, she was obliged to make the most +of her time, and to use all her worldly wisdom in preparing for the +occasion.</p> + +<p>Antoñona had suggested ten as the hour of Don Luis's visit, because this +was the hour in which Don Luis and Pepita had been accustomed to see +each other in the now abolished or suspended gatherings at the house of +the later. She had suggested this hour also in order to avoid giving +rise to scandal or slander; for she had once heard a preacher say that, +according to the gospel, there is nothing so wicked as scandal, and that +the scandal-monger ought to be flung into the sea with a mill-stone hung +round his neck.</p> + +<p>Antoñona, then, returned to the house of her mistress, very well +satisfied with herself and with the firm determination so to arrange +matters that the remedy she had sought should not prove useless, or +aggravate instead of curing Pepita's malady. She resolved to say nothing +of the matter to Pepita herself until the last moment, when she would +tell her that Don Luis had asked her of his own accord at what hour he +might make a farewell visit, and that she had said ten.</p> + +<p>In order to avoid giving rise to talk, she determined that Don Luis +should not be seen to enter the house, and for this the hour and the +internal arrangement of the house itself were alike propitious. At ten +the street would be full of people, on account of the vigil, which would +make it easier for Don Luis to reach the house without being observed. +To enter the hall would be the work of a moment, and Antoñona, who would +be waiting for him, could then take him to the library without any one +seeing him.</p> + +<p>All, or at least the greater part, of the handsome country-houses of +Andalusia are in construction double rather than single houses. Each +house, of these double houses, has its own door. The principal door +leads to the court-yard, which is pared and surrounded by columns, to +the parlors and the other apartments of the family; the other to the +inner yards, the stable and coach-house, the kitchens, the mill, the +wine-press, the granaries, the buildings where are kept the oil, the +must, the alcohol, the brandy and the vinegar, in large jars; and the +cask stores, or cellars, where the newly made wine, and that which has +been long kept, is stored in pipes or barrels. This second house, or +portion of a house, although it may be situated in the heart of a town +of twenty or twenty-five thousand inhabitants, is called <i>farm-house</i>. +The overseer, the foreman, the muleteer, the principal workmen, and the +domestics who have been longest in the service of the master, are +accustomed to gather here in the evenings, during the winter, around the +enormous fireplace of a spacious kitchen, and in summer in the open air, +or in some cool and well-ventilated apartment, and there chat or take +their ease until the master's family are about to retire.</p> + +<p>Antoñona was of opinion that the colloquy or explanation, which she +desired should take place between her mistress and Don Luis required +tranquillity, and should be interrupted by no one; and she therefore +determined that, as it was St. John's eve, the maid-servants of Pepita +should be to-night released from all their occupations, and should go to +amuse themselves at the farm-house, where, in union with the rustic +laborers, they might get up impromptu amusements, to consist of +fandangos, the recitation of pretty verses, playing the castanets, jigs, +and country-dances.</p> + +<p>In this manner the dwelling-house—without other occupants than Pepita +and herself—would be silent and almost deserted, and suited to the +solemnity and undisturbed quiet desirable in the interview she had +planned, and on which perhaps—or rather to a certainty—depended the +fate of two persons of such distinguished merit.</p> + +<p class="top5">While Antoñona went about turning over and arranging in her mind all +these things, Don Luis had no sooner been left alone than he regretted +having proceeded with so much haste, and weakly consenting to the +interview Antoñona had asked of him. As he reflected upon it, it seemed +to him more full of peril than those of Oenone or Celestina. He saw +before him all the danger to which he voluntarily exposed himself, and +he could see no advantage whatever in thus making in secret, and by +stealth, a visit to the beautiful widow.</p> + +<p>To go and see her in order to succumb to her attractions and fall into +her snares, making a mockery of his vows, and placing not only the +bishop, who had indorsed his petition for a dispensation, but even the +holy Pontiff, who had conceded it, in a false position, by relinquishing +his purpose of becoming a priest, seemed to him very dishonorable. It +was, besides, a treason against his father, who loved Pepita and desired +to marry her; and to visit her in order to undeceive her in regard to +his love for her, seemed to him a greater refinement of cruelty than to +depart without saying anything.</p> + +<p>Influenced by these considerations, the first thought of Don Luis was to +fail, without excuse or warning, to keep his appointment, and leave +Antoñona to wait in vain for him in the hall; but then, as Antoñona had, +in all probability, already announced his visit to her mistress, he +would, by failing to go, unpardonably offend, not only Antoñona, but +Pepita herself.</p> + +<p>He then resolved on writing Pepita a very affectionate and discreet +letter, excusing himself from going to see her, justifying his conduct, +consoling her, manifesting his tender sentiments toward her, while +letting her see that duty and Heaven were before everything, and +endeavoring to inspire her with the courage to make the same sacrifice +as he himself was making.</p> + +<p>He made four or five different attempts to write this letter. He blotted +a great deal of paper which he afterward tore up, and could not, in the +end, succeed in getting the letter to his taste. Now it was dry, cold, +pedantic, like a poor sermon or a school-master's discourse; now its +contents betrayed a childish apprehension, as if Pepita were a monster +lying in wait to devour him; now it had other faults not less serious. +In fine, after wasting many sheets of paper in the attempt, the letter +remained unwritten.</p> + +<p>"There is no help for it," said Don Luis to himself; "the die is cast. I +must only summon courage and go."</p> + +<p>He comforted his spirit with the hope that his self-control would not +forsake him during the coming interview; and that God would endow his +lips with eloquence to persuade Pepita, who was so good, that it was she +herself who, sacrificing her earthly love, urged him to fulfill his +vocation, resembling in this those holy women of whom there are not +wanting examples, who not only renounced the society of a bridegroom or +a lover, but even the companionship of a husband, as is narrated, for +instance, in the life of St. Edward, of England, whose queen lived with +him as a sister.</p> + +<p>Don Luis felt himself consoled and encouraged by this thought, and he +already pictured himself as St. Edward, and Pepita as Queen Edith. And +under the form and in the character of this virgin queen, Pepita +appeared to him, if possible, more graceful, charming, and romantic +than ever.</p> + +<p>Don Luis was not, however, altogether so secure of himself, or so +tranquil, as he should have been, after forming the resolution of +following the example of St. Edward. There seemed to him something +almost criminal, which he could not well define, in the visit he was +about to make to Pepita without his father's knowledge. He felt tempted +to awaken him from his <i>siesta</i>, and to reveal everything to him; two or +three times he rose from his chair with this purpose; then he stopped, +feeling that such a revelation would be dishonoring, and a disgraceful +exhibition of childishness. He might betray his own secrets, but to +betray those of Pepita in order to set himself right with his father, +seemed to him contemptible enough. The baseness and the ridiculous +meanness of the action were still further increased in his eyes by the +reflection that what prompted him to it was the fear of not being strong +enough to resist temptation.</p> + +<p>Don Luis kept silence, therefore, and revealed nothing to his father.</p> + +<p>More than this, he did not even feel that he had the confidence and +composure necessary to present himself before his father, with the +consciousness of this secret interview interposing itself as a barrier +between them. He was indeed so excited and so beside himself, under the +influence of the contending emotions that disputed the possession of his +soul, that he felt as if the room, though a large one, was too small to +contain him. Starting to his feet, he paced with rapid strides up and +down the floor, like some wild animal in his cage, impatient of +confinement. At last, although—being summer—the window was open, he +felt as if he could remain here no longer, lest he should suffocate for +want of air; as if the roof pressed down upon his head; as if, to +breathe, he needed the whole atmosphere; to walk, he required space +without limits; to lift up his brow, and exhale his sighs, and elevate +his thoughts, to have nothing less than the immeasurable vault of heaven +above him.</p> + +<p>Impelled by this necessity, he took his hat and cane and went out into +the street. Thence, avoiding every one he knew, he passed on into the +country, plunging into the leafiest and most sequestered recesses of the +gardens and walks that encompass the village, and make, for a radius of +more than half a league, a paradise of its surroundings.</p> + +<p>We have said but little, thus far, concerning the personal appearance of +Don Luis. Be it known, then, that he was in every sense of the word a +handsome fellow—tall, well formed, with black hair, and eyes also black +and full of fire and sweetness. His complexion was dark, his teeth were +white, his lips delicate and curling slightly, which gave to his +countenance an appearance of disdain; his bearing was manly and bold, +notwithstanding the reserve and meekness proper to his sacred character. +The whole mien of Don Luis bore, in a word, that indescribable stamp of +distinction and nobility that seems to be—though this is not always the +case—the peculiar quality and exclusive privilege of aristocratic +families.</p> + +<p>On beholding Don Luis one could not but confess that Pepita Ximenez was +aesthetic by instinct.</p> + +<p>Don Luis hurried on with precipitate steps in the course he had taken, +jumping across brooks and hardly glancing at surrounding objects, almost +as a bull stung by a hornet might do. The countrymen he met, the +market-gardeners who saw him pass, very possibly took him for a madman.</p> + +<p>Tired at last of walking on aimlessly, he sat down at the foot of a +stone cross near the ruins of an ancient convent of St. Francis de Paul, +almost two miles from the village, and there plunged anew into +meditation, but of so confused a character that he himself was scarcely +conscious of what was passing in his mind.</p> + +<p>The sound of the distant bells, calling the faithful to prayer and +reminding them of the salutation of the angel to the Most Holy Virgin, +reaching these solitudes through the rarefied atmosphere, drew Don Luis +at last from his meditations, and made him once more conscious of the +world of reality.</p> + +<p>The sun had just sunk behind the gigantic peaks of the neighboring +mountains, making their summits—in the shape of pyramids, needles, and +broken obelisks—stand out in bold relief against a background of topaz +and amethyst—for such was the appearance of the heavens, gilded by the +beams of the setting sun. The shadows began to deepen over the plain, +and, on the mountains opposite to those behind which the sun was +sinking, the more elevated peaks shone like flaming gold or crystal.</p> + +<p>The windows and the white walls of the distant sanctuary of the Virgin, +patroness of the village, which is situated on the summit of a distant +hill, as well as those of another small temple or hermitage, situated on +a nearer hill called Calvary, still shone like two beacon-lights, +touched by the oblique rays of the setting sun.</p> + +<p>Nature exhaled a poetic melancholy, and all things seemed to intone a +hymn to the Creator, with that silent music heard only by the spirit. +The low sound of the bells, softened and almost lost in the distance, +hardly disturbed the repose of the earth, and invited to prayer, without +distracting the senses by their noise. Don Luis uncovered his head, +knelt down at the foot of the cross, the pedestal of which had served +him as a seat, and repeated with profound devotion the <i>Angelus Domini</i>.</p> + +<p>The shades of evening were gathering fast; but when Night unfolds her +mantle, and spreads it over those favored regions, she delights to adorn +it with the most luminous stars, and with a still brighter moon. The +vault of heaven did not exchange its cerulean hue for the blackness of +night; it still retained it, though it had assumed a deeper shade. The +atmosphere was so clear and pure that myriads of stars could be descried +shining far into the limitless depths of space. The moon silvered the +tops of the trees, and touched with its splendor the waters of the +brooks that gleamed, luminous and transparent, with colors as changeful +and iridescent as the opal. In the leafy groves the nightingales were +singing. Herbs and flowers shed a rich perfume. Countless multitudes of +glow-worms shone like diamonds or carbuncles among the grass and wild +flowers along the banks of the brooks. In this region the winged +glow-worm is not found, but another and smaller species abounds, and +sheds a most brilliant light. Fruit-trees still in blossom, acacias and +roses without number, perfumed the air with their rich fragrance.</p> + +<p>Don Luis felt himself swayed, seduced, vanquished, by this +voluptuousness of nature, and began to doubt himself. It was necessary, +however, to fulfill his promise and keep his appointment.</p> + +<p>Deviating often from the straight path, hesitating at times whether he +should not rather push forward to the source of the river, where, at the +foot of a mountain and in the midst of the most enchanting surroundings, +the crystal torrent that waters the neighboring gardens and orchards +bursts from the living rock, he turned back, with slow and lingering +step, in the direction of the village.</p> + +<p>In proportion as he approached the village, the terror inspired by the +thought of what he was about to do increased. He plunged into the +thickest of the wood, hoping there to behold some wonder, some sign, +some warning, that should draw him back. He thought often of the student +Lisardo, and wished that, like him, he might behold his own burial. But +heaven smiled with her thousand lights, and invited to love; the stars +looked at each other with love; the nightingales sang of love; even the +crickets amorously vibrated their sonorous elytra, as troubadours the +plectrum, in a serenade; all the earth on this tranquil and beautiful +night seemed given up to love. There was no warning; there was no sign; +there was no funeral pomp; all was life, peace, joy.</p> + +<p>Where was now his guardian angel? Had he abandoned Don Luis as already +lost, or, deeming that he ran no risk, did he make no effort to turn him +from his purpose? Who can say? Perhaps from the danger that menaced him +would, in the end, result a triumph. St. Edward and Queen Edith +presented themselves again to the imagination of Don Luis, and +strengthened his resolution.</p> + +<p>Engrossed in these meditations, he delayed his return, and was still +some distance from the village when ten, the hour appointed for his +interview with Pepita, struck from the parish clock. The ten strokes of +the bell were ten blows that, falling on his heart, wounded it as with a +physical pain—a pain in which dread and treacherous disquiet were +blended with a ravishing sweetness.</p> + +<p>Don Luis hastened his steps that he might reach Pepita's house as soon +after the appointed hour as was now possible, and shortly found himself +in the village.</p> + +<p>The village presented a most animated scene. Young girls flocked to wash +their faces at the fountain on the common—those who had sweethearts, +that their sweethearts might remain faithful to them; and those who had +not, that they might obtain sweethearts. Here and there women and +children were returning from the fields, with verbena, branches of +rosemary, and other plants, which they had been gathering, to burn as a +charm. Guitars tinkled on every side, words of love were to be +overheard, and everywhere happy and tender couples were to be seen +walking together. The vigil and the early morning of St. John's day, +although a Christian festival, still retain a certain savor of paganism +and primitive naturalism. This may be because of the approximate +concurrence of this festival and the summer solstice. In any case, the +scene to-night was of a purely mundane character, without any religious +mixture whatever. All was love and gallantry. In our old romances and +legends the Moor always carries off the beautiful Christian princess, +and the Christian knight receives the reward of his devotion to the +Moorish princess, on the eve or in the early morning of St. John's day; +and the traditionary custom of the old romances had been, to all +appearances, preserved in the village.</p> + +<p>The streets were full of people. The whole village was out of doors, in +addition to the strangers from the surrounding country. Progress, thus +rendered extremely difficult, was still further impeded by the multitude +of little tables laden with <i>nougat</i>, honey-cakes, and toast, +fruit-stalls, booths for the sale of dolls and toys, and cake-shops, +where gypsies, young and old, by turns fried the dough, tainting the air +with the odor of oil, weighed and served the cakes, responded with +ready wit to the compliments of the gallants who passed by, and told +fortunes.</p> + +<p>Don Luis sought to avoid meeting any of his acquaintances, and, when he +caught sight by chance of any one he knew, he turned his steps in +another direction. Thus, by degrees, he reached the entrance to Pepita's +house without having been stopped or spoken to by any one. His heart now +began to beat with violence, and he paused a moment to recover his +serenity. He looked at his watch; it was almost half-past ten.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" he exclaimed; "she has been waiting for me nearly half +an hour."</p> + +<p>He then hurried his pace and entered the hall. The lamp by which it was +always lighted was burning dimly on this particular evening.</p> + +<p>No sooner had Don Luis entered the hall than a hand, or rather a talon, +seized him by the right arm. It belonged to Antoñona, who said to him +under her breath:</p> + +<p>"A pretty fellow you are, for a collegian! Ingrate! good-for-nothing! +vagabond! I began to think you were not coming. Where have you been, +imbecile? How dare you delay, as if you had no interest in the matter, +when the salt of the earth is melting for you, and the sum of beauty +awaits you?"</p> + +<p>While Antoñona was giving utterance to these complaints, she did not +stand still, but continued to go forward, dragging after her by the arm +the now cowed and silent collegian. They passed the grated door, which +Antoñona closed carefully and noiselessly behind them. They crossed the +court-yard, ascended the stairs, passed through some corridors and two +interjacent apartments, and arrived at last at the door of the library, +which was closed.</p> + +<p>Profound silence reigned throughout the house. The library was situated +in its interior, and was thus inaccessible to the noises of the street. +The only sounds that reached it, confused and vague, were the shaking of +the castanets, the tinkle of the guitar, and the murmur of the voices of +Pepita's servants, who were holding their impromptu dance in the +farm-house.</p> + +<p>Antoñona opened the door of the library and pushed Don Luis toward it, +at the same time announcing him in these words:</p> + +<p>"Here is Don Luis, who has come to take leave of you."</p> + +<p>This announcement being made with due ceremony, the discreet Antoñona +withdrew, leaving the visitor and her mistress at their ease, and +closing behind her the door of the outer saloon.</p> + +<p class="top5">At this point in our narrative we can not refrain from calling attention +to the character of authenticity that stamps the present history, and +paying a tribute of admiration to the scrupulous exactness of the person +who composed it. For, were the incidents related in these <i>paralipomena</i> +fictitious, as in a novel, there is nor the least doubt but that an +interview so important and of such transcendent interest as that of +Pepita and Don Luis would have been brought about by less vulgar means +than those here employed. Perhaps our hero and heroine, in the course of +some new excursion into the country, might have been surprised by a +sudden and frightful tempest, thus finding themselves obliged to take +refuge in the ruins of some ancient castle or Moorish tower, with the +reputation, of course, of being haunted by ghosts or other supernatural +visitants. Perhaps our hero and heroine might have fallen into the power +of a party of bandits, from whom they would have escaped, thanks to the +presence of mind and courage of Don Luis; taking shelter afterward for +the night—they two alone, and without the possibility of avoiding +it—in a cavern or grotto. Or, finally, perhaps the author would have +arranged the matter in such a way as that Pepita and her vacillating +admirer would have been obliged to make a journey by sea, and, although +at the present day there are neither pirates nor Algerine corsairs, it +is not difficult to invent a good shipwreck, during which Don Luis +could have saved Pepita's life, taking refuge with her afterward on a +desert island, or some other equally romantic and solitary place. Any +one of these devices would more artfully prepare the way for the tender +colloquy of the lovers, and would better serve to exculpate Don Luis. We +are of the opinion, nevertheless, that, instead of censuring the author +for not having had recourse to such complications as those we have +mentioned, we ought rather to thank him for his conscientiousness in +sacrificing to the truth of his relation the marvelous effect he might +have produced, had he ventured to ornament and adorn it with incidents +and episodes drawn from his own fancy.</p> + +<p>If the means by which this interview was brought about were, in reality, +only the officiousness and the skill of Antoñona, and the weakness with +which Don Luis acceded to her request that he should grant it, why forge +lies, and cause the two lovers to be impelled, as it were, by Fate, to +see and speak with each other alone, to the great danger of the virtue +and honor of both? There was nothing of this. Whether Don Luis did well +or ill in keeping his appointment, and whether Pepita Ximenez, whom +Antoñona had already told that Don Luis was coming of his own accord to +see her, did well or ill in rejoicing over that somewhat mysterious and +inopportune visit, let us not throw the blame on Fate, but on the +personages themselves who figure in this history, and on the passions +by which they are actuated. We confess to a great affection for Pepita; +but the truth is before everything, and must be declared, even should it +be to the prejudice of our heroine.</p> + +<p>At eight o'clock, then, Antoñona had told her that Don Luis was coming, +and Pepita, who had been talking of dying, whose eyes were red, whose +eyelids were slightly inflamed with weeping, and whose hair was in some +disorder, thought of nothing, thereafter, but of adorning and arranging +herself for the purpose of receiving Don Luis. She bathed her face with +warm water, so that the ravages her tears had made might be effaced to +the exact point of leaving her beauty unimpaired, while still allowing +it to be seen that she had wept. She arranged her hair, so as to +display, rather than a studied care in its arrangement, a certain +graceful and artistic carelessness, that fell short of disorder, +however, which would have been indecorous; she polished her nails, and, +as it was not fit that she should receive Don Luis in a wrapper, she put +on a simple house-dress. In fine, she managed instinctively that all the +details of her toilet should concur in heightening her beauty and grace, +but without allowing any trace to be perceived of the art, the labor, +and the time employed in the details. She would have it appear, on the +contrary, as if all this beauty and grace were the free gift of nature, +something inherent in her person, no matter how she might, owing to the +vehemence of her passions, neglect it on occasion.</p> + +<p>Pepita, so far as we have been able to discover, spent more than an hour +in these labors of the toilet, which were to be perceived only by their +results. She then, with ill-concealed satisfaction, gave herself the +final touch before the looking-glass. At last, at about half-past nine, +taking a candle in her hand, she descended to the apartment, in which +was the <i>Infant Jesus</i>. She first lighted the altar-candles which had +been extinguished; she saw with something of sorrow that the flowers +were drooping; she asked pardon of the sacred Image for neglecting it so +long, and, throwing herself on her knees before it, prayed in her +solitude with her whole heart, and with that frankness and confidence +that a guest inspires who has been so long an inmate of the house. Of a +<i>Jesus of Nazareth</i> bearing the cross upon his shoulders, and crowned +with thorns; of an <i>Ecce Homo</i>, insulted and scourged, with a reed for +derisive scepter, and his hands bound with a rough cord; of a <i>Christ +crucified</i>, bleeding and moribund, Pepita would not have dared to ask +what she now asked of a Saviour, still a child, smiling, beautiful, +untouched by suffering, and pleasing to the eye. Pepita asked him to +leave her Don Luis; not to take him away from her, since he, who was so +rich and so well provided with everything, might, without any great +sacrifice, deny himself this one of his servants, and give him up to +her.</p> + +<p>Having completed these preparations, which we may classify as cosmetic, +indumentary, and religious, Pepita installed herself in the library, and +there awaited the arrival of Don Luis with feverish impatience.</p> + +<p>Antoñona had acted with prudence in not telling her mistress that Don +Luis was coming to see her until a short time before the appointed hour. +Even as it was, thanks to the delay of the gallant, poor Pepita, from +the moment in which she had finished her prayers and supplications to +the <i>Infant Jesus</i>, to that in which she beheld Don Luis standing in the +library, was a prey to anguish and disquietude.</p> + +<p>The visit began in the most grave and ceremonious manner. The customary +salutations were mechanically interchanged, and Don Luis, at the +invitation of Pepita, seated himself in an easy-chair, without laying +aside his hat or cane, and at a short distance from her. Pepita was +seated on the sofa; beside her was a little table on which were some +books, and a candle, the light from which illuminated her countenance. +On the desk also burned a lamp. Notwithstanding these two lights, +however, the apartment, which was large, remained for the greater part +in obscurity. A large window, which looked out on an inner garden, was +open on account of the heat; and although the grating of the window was +covered with climbing roses and jasmine, the clear beams of the moon +penetrated through the interlaced leaves and flowers, and struggled with +the light of the lamp and candle. Through the open window came, too, the +distant and confused sounds of the dance at the farm-house, which was at +the other extremity of the garden, the monotonous murmur of the fountain +below, and the fragrance of the jasmine and roses that curtained the +window, mingled with that of the mignonette, sweet-basil, and other +plants that adorned the borders beneath.</p> + +<p>There was a long pause—a silence as difficult to maintain as it was to +break. Neither of the two interlocutors ventured to speak. The situation +was, in truth, embarrassing. They found it as difficult to express +themselves then, as we find it now to reproduce their words; but there +is nothing else for it than to make the effort. Let us allow them to +speak for themselves, transcribing their words with exactitude.</p> + +<p class="top5">"So you have finally condescended to come and take leave of me before +your departure," said Pepita; "I had already given up the hope that you +would do so."</p> + +<p>The part Don Luis had to perform was a serious one; and, besides this, +in this kind of dialogue, the man, not only if he be a novice, but even +when he is old in the business and an expert, is apt to begin with some +piece of folly. Let us not condemn Don Luis, therefore, because he also +began unwisely.</p> + +<p>"Your complaint is unjust," he said. "I came here with my father to take +leave of you, and, as we had not the pleasure of being received by you, +we left cards. We were told that your health was somewhat delicate, and +we have sent every day since to inquire for you. We were greatly pleased +to learn that you were improving. I hope you are now much better."</p> + +<p>"I am almost tempted to say I am no better," answered Pepita, "but, as I +see that you have come as the embassador of your father, and I do not +want to distress so excellent a friend, it is but right that I should +tell you, that you may repeat it to him, that I am much better now. But +it is strange that you have come alone. Don Pedro must be very much +occupied indeed, not to accompany you."</p> + +<p>"My father did not accompany me, madam, because he does not know that I +have come to see you. I have chosen to come without him because my +farewell must be a serious, a solemn, perhaps a final one, and his will +naturally be of a very different character. My father will return to +the village in a few weeks; it is possible that I may never return to +it, and, if I do, it will be in a very different character from my +present one."</p> + +<p>Pepita could not restrain herself. The happy future of which she had +dreamed vanished, at the words of Don Luis, into air. Her unalterable +resolution to vanquish, at whatever cost, this man, the only one she had +loved in her life, the only one she felt herself capable of loving, +seemed to have been made in vain. She felt herself condemned at twenty +years of age, with all her beauty, to perpetual widowhood, to solitude, +to an unrequited love—for any other love was impossible for her. The +character of Pepita, in whom obstacles only strengthened and kindled +afresh her desires, with whom a determination, once taken, carried +everything before it until it was fulfilled, showed itself now in all +its violence and without restraint. She must conquer, or die in the +attempt. Social considerations, the fixed habit of guarding and +concealing the feelings, acquired in the great world, which serve as a +restraint to the paroxysms of passion, and which veil in ambiguous +phrases, and dilute in circumlocutions, the most violent explosion of +undisciplined emotion, had no power with Pepita. She had had but little +intercourse with the world, she knew no middle way; her only rule of +conduct hitherto had been to obey blindly her mother and her husband +while they lived, and afterward to command despotically every other +human being. Thus it was that Pepita spoke her own thoughts on this +occasion, and showed herself such as she really was. Her soul, with all +the passion it contained, took sensible form in her words; and her +words, instead of serving to conceal her thoughts and her feelings, gave +them substance. She did not speak as a lady of our <i>salons</i> would have +spoken, with circumlocutions and attenuations of expression, but with +that idyllic frankness with which Chloe spoke to Daphnis, and with the +humility and the complete self-abandonment with which the +daughter-in-law of Naomi offered herself to Boaz.</p> + +<p>"Do you then persist in your purpose?" she asked. "Are you sure of your +vocation? Are you not afraid of being a bad priest? Don Luis, I am going +to make a supreme effort. I am going to forget that I am an uncultured +girl; I am going to dispense with all sentiment, and to reason as coldly +as if it were concerning the matter most indifferent to me. Things have +taken place that may be explained in two ways; both explanations do you +discredit. I will show you what my thoughts are. If the woman who, with +her coquetries—not very daring ones, in truth—almost without a word, +and but a few days after seeing and speaking to you for the first time, +has been able to provoke you, to move you to look at her with glances +that betokened a profane love, and has even obtained from you a proof of +that love that would be a fault, a sin, in any one, but is so especially +in a priest—if this woman be, as she indeed is, a simple country-girl, +without education, without talent, and without elegance, what is not to +be feared of you when in great cities you see and converse with other +women a thousand times more dangerous? Your head will be turned when you +are thrown into the society of the great ladies who dwell in palaces, +who tread on soft carpets, who dazzle the eye with their diamonds and +pearls, who are clad in silks and laces instead of muslin and percale, +who leave bare the white and well-formed throat instead of covering it +with a plebeian and modest handkerchief, who are adepts in all the arts +of coquetry, and who, by reason of the very ostentation, luxury, and +pomp that surround them, are all the more desirable for being apparently +more inaccessible; who discuss politics, philosophy, religion, and +literature; who sing like canaries, who are enveloped, as it were, in +clouds of incense, adoration and homage, set upon a pedestal of triumphs +and of victories, glorified by the prestige of an illustrious name, +enthroned in gilded saloons, or secluded in voluptuous boudoirs, where +enter only the blest ones of the earth, its titled ones, perhaps, who +only to their most intimate friends are "Pepita," "Antoñita," or +"Angelita," and to the rest of the world, "Her Grace the Duchess," or +"the Marchioness." If you have yielded to the arts of an uncultured +peasant when you were on the eve of being ordained, and in spite of all +the enthusiasm for your calling that you may naturally be supposed to +entertain—if you have thus yielded, urged by a passing impulse, am I +not right in foreseeing that you will make an abominable priest, impure, +worldly, and of evil influence, and that you will yield to temptation at +every step? On such a supposition as this, believe me, Don Luis—and do +not be offended with me for saying so—you are not even worthy to be the +husband of an honest woman. If, with all the ardor and tenderness of the +most passionate lover, you have pressed the hand of a woman, if you have +looked at one, with glances that foretold a heaven, an eternity of love, +if you have kissed a woman that inspired you with no other feeling than +one that for me has no name, then go, in God's name, and do not marry +her! If she is virtuous, she will not desire you for a husband, nor even +for a lover; but, for God's sake, do not become a priest either! The +Church needs men more serious, more capable of resisting temptation, as +ministers of the Most High.</p> + +<p>"If, on the other hand, you have felt a noble passion for the woman of +whom we are speaking, although she be of little worth, why abandon and +deceive her with so much cruelty? However unworthy she may be, if she +has inspired this great passion, do you not suppose that she will share +it, and be the victim of it? For, when a love is great, elevated, and +passionate, does it ever fail to make its power felt? Does it not +tyrannize over and subjugate the beloved object irresistibly? By the +extent of your love for her you may measure that of her you love. And +how can you avoid fearing for her, if you abandon her? Has she the +masculine energy, the firmness of character produced by the wisdom +learned from books, the attraction of fame, the multitude of splendid +projects, and all the resources of your cultured and exalted intellect, +to distract her mind, and turn her away, without destructive violence, +from every other earthly affection? Can you not see that she will die of +grief, and that you, called by your destiny to offer up bloodless +sacrifices, will begin by pitilessly sacrificing her who most loves +you?"</p> + +<p>"I too, madam," returned Don Luis, endeavoring to conquer his emotion, +and to speak with firmness—"I too, madam, am obliged to make a great +effort in order to answer you with the calmness necessary to one who +opposes argument to argument, as in a controversy; but your accusation +is supported by so many reasons, and you have invested those +reasons—pardon me for saying so—with so specious an appearance of +truth, that I have no choice left me but to disprove them by other +reasons. I had no thought of being placed in the necessity of +maintaining a discussion here, and of sharpening my poor wits for that +purpose; but you compel me to do so, unless I wish to pass for a +monster. I am going to reply to the two extremes of the cruel dilemma in +which you have placed me. Though it is true that my youth was passed in +my uncle's house and in the seminary, where I saw nothing of women, do +not therefore think me so ignorant, or possessed of so little +imagination, that I can not picture to myself how lovely, how seductive +they may be. My imagination, on the contrary, went far beyond the +reality. Excited by the reading of the sacred writers and of profane +poets, it pictured women more charming, more graceful, more intelligent, +than they are commonly to be found in real life. I knew then, and I even +exaggerated to myself, the cost of the sacrifice I was making, when I +renounced the love of those women for the purpose of elevating myself to +the dignity of the priesthood. I know well how much the charms of a +beautiful woman are enhanced by rich attire, by splendid jewels, by +being surrounded with all the arts of refined civilization, all the +objects of luxury produced by the indefatigable labor and the skill of +man. I knew well, too, how much the natural cleverness of a woman is +increased, how much her natural intelligence is sharpened, quickened, +and brightened by intercourse with scientific men, by the reading of +good books, even by the familiar spectacle of the wealth and splendor of +great cities, and of the monuments of the past that they contain. All +this I pictured to myself with so much vividness, my fancy painted it in +such glowing colors, that you need have no doubt that, should I be +thrown into the society of those women of whom you speak, far from +feeling the adoration and the transports you prophesy, I shall rather +experience a disenchantment on seeing how great a distance there is +between what I dreamed of and the truth, between the living reality and +the picture of it that my fancy drew."</p> + +<p>"This is indeed specious reasoning," exclaimed Pepita. "How can I deny +that what you have pictured in your imagination is, in truth, more +beautiful than what exists in reality? but who will deny, either, that +the real possesses a more seductive charm than that which exists only in +the imagination? The vagueness and etherealness of a phantasm, however +beautiful it may be, can not compete with what is palpable and visible +to the senses. I can understand that holy images might exercise a more +powerful influence over your spirit than the pictures of mundane beauty +created by your fancy, but I fear that those holy images will not prove +equally powerful where mundane realities are concerned."</p> + +<p>"Have no such fear, madam," returned Don Luis. "My fancy possesses, by +its own creations, more power over my spirit than does the whole +universe—only excepting yourself—by what it transmits to it through +the senses."</p> + +<p>"And why except me? Such an exception gives room to the suspicion that +the idea you have of me, the idea which you love, may be but the +creation of this potent fancy of yours, and an illusion that resembles +me in nothing."</p> + +<p>"No, this is not the case. You may be assured that this idea resembles +you in everything. It may be that it is innate in my soul, that it has +existed in it since it was created by God, that it is a part of its +essence, the best and purest part of its being, as the perfume is of the +flower."</p> + +<p>"This is what I had feared, and now you confess it to me. You do not +love me. What you love is the essence, the fragrance, the purest part of +your own soul, that has assumed a form resembling mine."</p> + +<p>"No, Pepita; do not seek to amuse yourself in tormenting me. What I love +is you—and you such as you really are; but what I love is also so +beautiful, so pure, so delicate that I can not understand how it should +have reached my mind, in a material manner, through the senses. I take +it for granted, then, and it is my firm belief, that it must have had an +innate existence there. It is like the idea of God that is inborn in my +soul, that has unfolded and developed itself within my soul, and that +has, nevertheless, its counterpart in reality, superior, infinitely +superior to the idea. As I believe that God exists, so do I believe that +you exist, and that you are a thousand times superior to the idea that I +have formed of you."</p> + +<p>"Still, I have a doubt left. May it not be woman in general, and not I, +solely and exclusively, that has awakened this idea?"</p> + +<p>"No, Pepita; before I saw you, I had felt in imagination what might be +the magic power, the fascination of a woman, beautiful of soul and +graceful in person. There is no duchess or marchioness in Madrid, no +empress in all the world, no queen or princess on the face of the globe, +to be compared to the ideals and fantastic creations with whom I have +lived. These were inhabitants of the castles and boudoirs, marvels of +luxury and taste, that I pleased myself in boyhood by erecting in my +fancy, and that I afterward gave as dwelling-places to my Lauras, +Beatrices, Juliets, Marguerites, and Leonoras; to my Cynthias, Glyceras, +and Lesbias. Them I crowned in my imagination with coronets and Oriental +diadems; I clothed them in mantles of purple and gold, and surrounded +them with regal pomp like Esther and Vashti; I endowed them, like +Rebekah and the Shulamite, with the bucolic simplicity of the +patriarchal age; I bestowed on them the sweet humility and the devotion +of Ruth; I listened to them discoursing like Aspasia, or Hypatia, +mistresses of eloquence; I enthroned them in luxurious drawing-rooms, +and cast over them the splendor of noble blood and illustrious lineage, +as if they had been the proudest and noblest of patrician maidens of +ancient Rome; I beheld them graceful, coquettish, gay, full of +aristocratic ease and manner, like the ladies of the time of Louis XIV, +in Versailles; and I adorned them, now with the modest <i>stola</i>, that +inspired veneration and respect; now with diaphanous tunics and +<i>peplums</i>, through whose airy folds were revealed all the plastic +perfections of their graceful forms; now with the transparent <i>coa</i>, of +the beautiful courtesans of Athens and Corinth, showing the white and +roseate hues of the finely molded forms that glowed beneath their +vaporous covering. But what are the joys of the senses, what the glory +and magnificence of the world, to a soul that burns with and consumes +itself in Divine love, as I believed mine, perhaps with too much +arrogance, to burn and consume itself? As volcanic fires, when they +burst into flame, send flying into air, shattered in a thousand +fragments, the solid rocks, the mountain-side itself, that obstruct +their passage, so, or with even greater force, did my spirit cast from +itself the whole weight of the universe and of created beauty that lay +upon it and imprisoned it, preventing it from soaring up to God, as the +center of its aspirations. No; I have rejected no delight, no sweetness, +no glory, through ignorance. I knew them all, and valued them all at +more than their worth, when I rejected them all for a greater delight, a +greater sweetness, a greater glory. The profane love of woman presented +itself to my fancy, clothed, not only with all its own charms, but with +the sovereign and almost irresistible charms of the most dangerous of +all temptations—of that which the moralists call virginal +temptation—when the mind, not yet undeceived by experience and by sin, +pictures to itself in the transports of love a supreme and ineffable +delight immeasurably superior to all reality. Ever since I reached +manhood—that is to say, for many years past, for my youth was short—I +have scorned those delights and that beauty that were but the shadow and +the reflex of the archetypal beauty of which I was enamored, of the +supreme delight for which I longed. I have sought to die to myself, in +order to live in the beloved object, to free, not only my senses, but +even my soul itself, from every earthly affection, from illusions and +imaginings, in order to be able to say with truth that it is not I who +live, but Christ who lives in me. It may be, nay, it must be, that in +this I sinned through arrogance and self-confidence, and that God has +therefore wished to chastise me; and you came across my path, and +tempted me, and led me astray. Now you upbraid me, you deride me, you +accuse me of levity and of yielding easily to temptation; but in +upbraiding me and deriding me you insult yourself, for you thus imply +that any other woman might have had equal power over me. I do not wish, +when I ought to be humble, to fall into the sin of pride, by trying to +justify my fault. If God, in chastisement of my pride, has let me fall +from his grace, it is possible that any temptation, however slight, +might have made me waver and fall. Yet I confess that I do not think so. +It may be that I err in my judgment that this is but the consequence of +my undisciplined pride, but, I repeat, I do not think so. I can not +succeed in persuading myself that the cause of my fall had in it +anything either mean or base. Above all the dreams of my youthful +imagination, the reality, such as I beheld it in you, enthroned itself. +Above all the nymphs, queens, and goddesses of my fancy, you towered. +Above the ruins of my ideal creations, overthrown and shattered by +Divine love, there arose in my soul the faithful image, the exact +reproduction of the living beauty that adorns, that is the essence of +that body and of that soul. There may be even something mysterious, +something supernatural in this; for I loved you from the moment I first +saw you—almost before I saw you. Long before I was conscious of loving +you, I loved you. It would seem as if there were some fatality in +this—that it was decreed, that it was a predestination."</p> + +<p>"And if it were predestined, if it be decreed," said Pepita, "why not +submit to Fate, why still resist? Sacrifice your purpose to our love. +Have not I sacrificed much? Am I not now sacrificing my pride, my +decorum, my reserve, in supplicating you thus, in making this effort to +overcome your scorn? I too believe that I loved you before I saw you. +Now I love you with my whole heart, and without you there is no +happiness for me. It is true indeed that in my humble intelligence you +can find no rival so powerful as that which I have in yours. Neither +with the understanding, nor the will, nor the affections, can I raise +myself all at once up to God. Neither by nature nor by grace do I mount +or desire to mount up to such exalted spheres. My soul, nevertheless, is +full of religious devotion, and I know and love and adore God; but I +only behold his omnipotence and admire his goodness in the works that +have proceeded from his hands. Nor can I, with the imagination, weave +those visions that you tell me of. Yet I too dreamed of some one nobler, +more intelligent, more poetic, and more enamored, than the men who have +thus far sought my hand; of a lover more distinguished and accomplished +than any of my adorers of this and the neighboring villages, who should +love me, and whom I should love, and to whose will I should blindly +surrender mine. This some one was you. I had a presentiment of it when +they told me that you had arrived at the village. When I saw you for the +first time, I knew it. But, as my imagination is so sterile, the picture +I had formed of you in my mind was not to be compared, even in the most +remote degree, to the reality. I too have read something of romances and +poetry. But from all that my memory retained of them, I was unable to +form a picture that was not far inferior in merit to what I see and +divine in you since I have known you. Thus it is that from the moment I +saw you I was vanquished and undone. If love is, as you say, to die to +self, in order to live in the beloved object, then is my love genuine +and legitimate, for I have died to myself, and live only in you and for +you. I have tried to cast this love away from me, deeming it +ill-requited, and I have not been able to succeed in doing so. I have +prayed to God with fervor to take away from me this love, or else to +kill me, and God has not deigned to hear me. I have prayed to the +Virgin Mary to blot your image from my soul, and my prayer has been in +vain. I have made vows to my patron saint to the end that he would +enable me to think of you only as he thought of his blessed spouse, and +my patron saint has not succored me. Seeing all this, I have had the +audacity to ask of Heaven that you would allow yourself to be +vanquished, that you would cease to desire to be a priest, that there +might spring up in your soul a love as profound as that which is in my +heart. Don Luis, tell me frankly, has Heaven been deaf to this last +prayer also? Or is it, perchance, that to subjugate a soul as weak, as +wretched, and as petty as mine, a petty love is sufficient, while to +master yours, protected and guarded as it is by vigorous and lofty +thoughts, a more powerful love than mine is necessary, a love that I am +neither worthy of inspiring, nor capable of sharing, nor even able to +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Pepita," returned Don Luis, "it is not that your soul is less than +mine, but that it is free from obligations, and mine is not. The love +you have inspired me with is profound, but my obligations, my vows, the +purpose of my whole life so near to its realization, contend against it. +Why should I not say it without fearing to offend you? If you succeed in +making me love you, you do not humiliate yourself. If I succumb to your +love, I humiliate and abase myself. I leave the Creator for the +creature. I renounce the unwavering purpose of my life, I break the +image of Christ that was in my soul; and the new man, that I had created +in myself at such cost, disappears, that the old man may come to life +again. Instead of my lowering myself to the earth, to the impurity of +the world that I have hitherto despised, why do not you rather elevate +yourself to me by virtue of that very love you entertain for me, freeing +it from every earthly alloy? Why should we not love each other then +without shame, and without sin, and without dishonor? God penetrates +holy souls with the pure and refulgent fire of his love, and fills them +with it, so that, like a metal fresh from the forge, that, without +ceasing to be a metal, shines and glitters and is all fire, these souls +fill themselves with joy, and are in all things God, penetrated by God +in every part, through the grace of the Divine love. These souls then +love and enjoy each other, as if they loved and enjoyed God, loving and +enjoying him in truth, because they are God. Let us mount together in +spirit this steep and mystical ladder. Let our souls ascend, side by +side, to this bliss, which even in this mortal life is possible; but to +do this we must separate in the body; it is essential that I should go +whither I am called by my duty, my vow, and the voice of the Most High, +who disposes of his servant, and has destined him to the service of his +altar."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Don Luis," replied Pepita, full of sorrow and contrition, "now +indeed I see how vile is the metal I am made of, and how unworthy I am +that the Divine fire should penetrate and transform me. I will confess +everything, casting away even shame: I am a vile sinner; my rude and +uncultured understanding can not grasp these subtleties, these +distinctions, these refinements of love. My rebellious will refuses what +you propose. I can not even conceive of you but as yourself. For me you +are your mouth, your eyes, your dark locks that I desire to caress with +my hands, your sweet voice, the pleasing sound of your words that fall +upon my ears, and charm them through the senses; your whole bodily form, +in a word that charms and seduces me, and through which, and only +through which, I perceive the invisible spirit, vague and full of +mystery. My soul, stubborn, and incapable of these mysterious raptures, +will never be able to follow you to those regions whither you would take +it. If you soar up to them, I shall remain alone, abandoned, plunged in +the deepest affliction. I prefer to die; I deserve death; I desire it. +It may be that after death my soul, loosening or breaking the vile bonds +that chain it here, will be able to understand the love with which you +desire we should be united. Kill me, then, in order that we may thus +love each other; kill me, and then my spirit, set free, will follow you +whithersoever you may go, and will journey invisible by your side, +watching over your steps, contemplating you with ravishment, penetrating +your most secret thoughts, beholding your soul as it is, without the +intervention of the senses. But in this life it can not be. I love in +you, not only the soul, but the body, and the shadow cast by the body, +and the reflection of the body in the mirror and in the water, and the +Christian name, and the surname, and the blood, and all that goes to +make you such as you are, Don Luis de Vargas; the sound of your voice, +your gesture, your gait, and I know not what else besides. I repeat that +you must kill me. Kill me without compassion. No, I am not a Christian; +I am a material idolater."</p> + +<p>Here Pepita made a long pause. Don Luis knew not what to say, and was +silent. Tears bathed the cheeks of Pepita, who continued, sobbing:</p> + +<p>"I know it; you despise me, and you are right to despise me. With this +just contempt you will kill me more surely than with a dagger, and +without staining either your hands or your conscience with blood. +Farewell! I am about to free you from my odious presence. Farewell +forever!"</p> + +<p>Having said this, Pepita rose from her seat, and, without looking at Don +Luis, her face bathed with tears, beside herself, rushed toward the door +that led to the inner apartment. An unconquerable tenderness, a fatal +pity, took possession of Don Luis. He feared Pepita would die. He +started forward to detain her, but it was too late. Pepita had crossed +the threshold. Her form disappeared in the obscurity within. Don Luis, +impelled by a superhuman power, drawn as by an invisible hand, followed +her into the darkened chamber.</p> + +<p class="top5">The library remained deserted.</p> + +<p>The servants' dance must have already terminated, for the only sound to +be heard was the murmur of the fountain in the garden below.</p> + +<p>Not even a breath of wind troubled the stillness of the night and the +serenity of the air.</p> + +<p>The perfume of the flowers and the light of the moon entered softly +through the open window. After a long interval, Don Luis made his +appearance, emerging from the darkness. Terror was depicted on his +countenance, mingled with despair—such despair as Judas may have felt +after he had betrayed his master.</p> + +<p>He dropped into a chair and, burying his face in his hands, with his +elbows resting on his knees, he remained for more than half an hour +plunged in a sea of bitter reflections.</p> + +<p>To see him thus, one might have supposed that he had just assassinated +Pepita.</p> + +<p>Pepita, nevertheless, at last made her appearance. With slow step, with +an air of the deepest melancholy, with bent head, and glance directed to +the floor, she approached Don Luis and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Now, indeed," said she, "though, alas! too late, I know all the +vileness of my heart and the iniquity of my conduct. I have nothing to +say in my own defense, but I would not have you think me more perverse +than I am. You must not think I have used any arts—that I have laid any +plans for your destruction. Yes; it is true that I have been guilty of +an atrocious crime, but an unpremeditated one; a crime inspired, +perhaps, by the spirit of evil that possesses me. Do not abandon +yourself to despair, do not torture yourself, for God's sake! You are +responsible for nothing. It was a frenzy, a madness that took possession +of your noble spirit. Your sin is a light one; mine is flagrant, +shameful, horrible. Now I am less worthy of you than ever. It is I who +ask you now to leave this place. Go; do penance. God will pardon you. +Go; a priest will give you absolution. Once cleansed from sin, carry out +your purpose, and become a minister of the Most High. Then, through the +holiness of your life, through your ceaseless labors, not only will you +efface from your soul the last traces of this fall, but you will obtain +for me, when you have pardoned me the evil I have done you, the pardon +of Heaven also. You are bound to me by no tie, and even if you were I +should loosen or break it. You are free. Let it suffice me that I have +taken captive by surprise the star of the morning. It is not my +desire—I neither can nor ought to seek to keep him in my power. I +divine it, I read it in your gesture, I am convinced of it—you despise +me more than before; and you are right in despising me. There is neither +honor, nor virtue, nor shame in me."</p> + +<p>When she had thus spoken, Pepita, throwing herself on her knees, bowed +her face till her forehead touched the floor. Don Luis continued in the +same attitude as before. Thus, for some moments, they remained both +silent with the silence of despair.</p> + +<p>In a stifled voice, and without raising her face from the floor, Pepita +after a time continued:</p> + +<p>"Go now, Don Luis, and do not, through an insulting pity, remain any +longer at the side of so despicable a wretch as I. I shall have courage +to bear your indifference, your forgetfulness, your contempt, for I have +deserved them all. I shall always be your slave—but far from you, very +far from you, in order that nothing may recall to your memory the +infamy of this night."</p> + +<p>Pepita's voice, as she ended, was choked with sobs.</p> + +<p>Don Luis could restrain himself no longer. He arose, approached Pepita, +and, raising her in his arms from the floor, pressed her to his heart; +then, putting aside from her face the blond tresses that fell in +disorder over it, he covered it with passionate kisses.</p> + +<p>"Soul of my soul," he said at last, "life of my life, treasure of my +heart, light of my eyes, raise up your dejected brow, and do not +prostrate yourself any longer before me. The sinner, the vile wretch, he +who has shown himself weak of purpose, who has made himself the butt of +scorn and ridicule, is I, not you. Angels and devils alike must laugh at +me and mock me. I have clothed myself with a false sanctity. I was not +able to resist temptation, and to undeceive you in the beginning, as +would have been just, and now I am equally unable to show myself a +gentleman, a man of honor, or a tender lover who knows how to value the +favors of his mistress. I can not understand what it was you saw in me +to attract you. There never was in me any solid virtue—nothing but vain +show and the pedantry of a student who has read pious books as one reads +a novel, and on this foundation has based his foolish romance of a +future devoted to converting the heathen, and to pious meditations. If +there had been in me any solid virtue, I should have undeceived you in +time, and neither you nor I would have sinned. True virtue is not so +easily vanquished. Notwithstanding your beauty, notwithstanding your +intelligence, notwithstanding your love for me, I should not have fallen +if I had been in reality virtuous, if I had had a true vocation. God, to +whom all things are possible, would have bestowed his grace upon me. It +would have needed nothing less than a miracle, or some other +supernatural event, to have enabled me to resist your love, but God +would have wrought the miracle, and I should have been worthy of it, and +a motive sufficient for its being wrought. You are wrong to counsel me +to become a priest. I know my own unworthiness. It was only pride that +actuated me in my desire to be one. It was a worldly ambition, like any +other. What do I say—like any other? It was worse than any other; it +was a hypocritical, a sacrilegious, a simoniacal ambition."</p> + +<p>"Do not judge yourself so harshly," said Pepita, now more tranquil, and +smiling through her tears. "I do not want you to judge yourself thus, +not even for the purpose of making me appear less unworthy to be your +companion. No; I would have you choose me through love—freely; not to +repair a fault, not because you have fallen into the snares you perhaps +think I have perfidiously spread for you. If you do not love me, if you +distrust me, if you do not esteem me, then go. My lips shall not breathe +a single complaint, if you should abandon me forever, and never think of +me again."</p> + +<p>To answer this fittingly, our poor and beggarly human speech was +insufficient for Don Luis. He cut short Pepita's words by pressing his +lips to hers, and again clasping her to his heart.</p> + +<p class="top5">Some time afterward, with much previous coughing and shuffling of the +feet, Antoñona entered the library with the words:</p> + +<p>"What a long talk you must have had! The sermon our student has been +preaching this time can not have been that of the <i>seven words</i>—it came +very near being that of the <i>forty hours</i>. It is time you should go now, +Don Luis; it is almost two o'clock in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Very well," answered Pepita, "he will go directly."</p> + +<p>Antoñona left the library again, and waited outside.</p> + +<p>Pepita was like one transformed. One might suppose that the joys she had +missed in her childhood, the happiness and contentment she had failed to +taste in her early youth, the gay activity and sprightliness that a +harsh mother and an old husband had repressed, and, as it were, crushed +within her, had suddenly burst into life in her soul, like the green +leaves of the trees, whose germination has been retarded by the snows +and frosts of a long and severe winter.</p> + +<p>A city-bred lady, familiar with what we call social conventionalities, +may find something strange, and even worthy of censure, in what I am +about to relate of Pepita. But Pepita, although refined by instinct, was +a being in whom every feeling was spontaneous, and in whose nature there +was no room for the affected sedateness and circumspection that are +customary in the great world. Thus it was that, seeing the obstacles +removed that had stood in the way of her happiness, and Don Luis +conquered, holding his voluntary promise that he would make her his +wife, and believing herself, with justice, to be loved, nay, worshiped +by him whom she too loved and worshiped, she danced and laughed, and +gave way to other manifestations of joy that had in them, after all, +something childlike and innocent.</p> + +<p>But it was necessary that Don Luis should now depart. Pepita took a comb +and smoothed his hair lovingly, and kissed him. She then rearranged his +neck-tie.</p> + +<p>"Farewell, lord of my life," she said, "dear sovereign of my soul. I +will tell your father everything if you fear to do. He is good, and he +will forgive us."</p> + +<p>At last the lovers separated.</p> + +<p>When Pepita found herself alone, her restless gayety disappeared, and +her countenance assumed a grave and thoughtful expression.</p> + +<p>Two thoughts now presented themselves to her mind, both equally serious; +the one possessing a merely mundane interest, the other an interest of a +higher nature. The first thought was that her conduct to-night—the +delirium of passion once past—might prejudice her in the opinion of Don +Luis; but, finding, after a severe examination of her conscience, that +neither premeditation nor artifice had had any part in her actions, +which were the offspring of an irresistible love, and of impulses noble +in themselves, she came to the conclusion that Don Luis could not +despise her for it, and she therefore made her mind easy on that point. +Nevertheless, although her frank confession that she was unable to +comprehend a love that was purely spiritual, and her taking refuge +afterward in the obscurity of her chamber—without foreseeing +consequences—were both the result of an impulse innocent enough in +itself, Pepita did not seek to deny in her own mind that she had sinned +against God, and on this point she could find for herself no excuse.</p> + +<p>She commended herself with all her heart, therefore, to the Virgin, +entreating her forgiveness. She vowed to the image of Our Lady of +Solitude, in the convent of the nuns, seven beautiful golden swords of +the finest and most elaborate workmanship, to adorn her breast, and +determined to go to confess herself on the following day to the vicar, +and to submit herself to the harshest penance he should choose to impose +upon her, in order to merit the absolution of those sins by means of +which she had vanquished the obstinacy of Don Luis, who, but for them, +would without a doubt have become a priest.</p> + +<p>While Pepita was engaged in these reflections, and while she was +arranging with so much discretion the affairs of her soul, Don Luis had +descended to the hall below, accompanied by Antoñona.</p> + +<p>Before taking his leave, Don Luis, without preface or circumlocution, +spoke thus:</p> + +<p>"Antoñona, tell me, you who are acquainted with everything, who is the +Count of Genazahar, and what has he had to do with your mistress?</p> + +<p>"You begin to be jealous very soon."</p> + +<p>"It is not jealousy that makes me ask this, it is simply curiosity."</p> + +<p>"So much the better. There is nothing more tiresome than jealousy. Well, +I will try to satisfy your curiosity. This same count has given room +enough for talk. He is a dissipated fellow, a gambler, and a man of no +principle whatever, but he has more vanity than Don Roderick on the +gallows. He made up his mind that my mistress should fall in love with +him and marry him, and, as she has refused him a thousand times, he is +mad enough to be tied. This does not prevent him, however, from keeping +in his money-chest more than a thousand dollars that Don Gumersindo lent +him years ago, without any more security than a bit of paper, through +the fault and at the entreaty of Pepita, who is better than bread. The +fool of a count thought, no doubt, that Pepita, who was so good to him +as a wife that she persuaded her husband to lend him money, would be so +much better to him as a widow that she would consent to marry him. He +was soon undeceived, however, and then he became furious."</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Antoñona," said Don Luis, as, now grave and thoughtful, he +left the house.</p> + +<p>The lights of the shops and of the booths in the fair were now +extinguished, and everybody was going home to bed, with the exception of +the owners of the toy-shops, and other poor hucksters, who slept beside +their wares in the open air.</p> + +<p>In some of the grated windows were still to be seen lovers, wrapped in +their cloaks, and chatting with their sweethearts. Almost every one else +had disappeared.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, once out of sight of Antoñona, gave a loose rein to his +thoughts. His resolution was taken, and all his reflections tended to +confirm this resolution. The sincerity and ardor of the passion with +which he had inspired Pepita; her beauty; the youthful grace of her +person, and the fresh exuberance of her soul, presented themselves to +his imagination, and rendered him happy.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding this, however, he could not but reflect with mortified +vanity on the change that had been wrought in himself. What would the +dean think? How great would be the horror the bishop! And, above all, +how serious were the grounds for complaint he had given his father! The +displeasure of the latter, his anger when he should know of the bond +that bound his son to Pepita, caused him infinite disquietude.</p> + +<p>As for what—before he fell—he had called his fall it must be confessed +that, after he had fallen, it did not seem to him either so very serious +or so very reprehensible. His spiritual-mindedness, viewed in the light +that had just dawned upon him, he fancied to have had neither reality +nor consistency; to have been but the vain and artificial product of his +reading, of his boyish arrogance, of his aimless tenderness in the +innocent days of his college life. When he remembered that he had at +times thought himself the recipient of supernatural gifts and graces, +that he heard mystic whisperings, that his spirit held communion with +superior beings; when he remembered that he had fancied himself almost +beginning to tread the path that leads to spiritual unity, through +contemplation of the Divine, penetrating into the recesses of the soul, +and mounting up to the region of pure intelligence, he smiled to +himself, and began to suspect that during the period in question he had +not been altogether in his right mind. It had all been simply the result +of his own arrogance. He had neither done penance, nor passed long years +in meditation; he did not possess, nor had he ever possessed, sufficient +merits for God to favor him with privileges like these. The greatest +proof he could give himself of the truth of this, the greatest certainty +he could possess that the supernatural favors he had enjoyed were +spurious; mere recollections of the authors he had read, was that not +one of them had ever given him the rapture of Pepita's "I love you," or +of the soft touch of her hand caressing his dark locks.</p> + +<p>Don Luis had recourse to another species of Christian humility to +justify in his eyes what he now no longer called his fall, but his +change of purpose. He confessed himself unworthy to be a priest; he +reconciled himself to being a commonplace married man, a good sort of +country gentleman, like any other, taking care of his vines and olives, +and bringing up his children—for he now desired to have children—and +to being a model husband at the side of his Pepita.</p> + +<p class="top5">Here I think myself again in the necessity—responsible as I am for the +publication and divulgation of this history—of interpolating various +reflections and explanations of my own.</p> + +<p>I said at the beginning of the story that I was inclined to think that +the narrative part, or <i>paralipomena</i>, was composed by the reverend dean +for the purpose of completing the story, and supplying incidents not +related in the letters; but I had not at that time read the manuscript +with attention. Now, on observing the freedom with which certain matters +are treated, and the indulgence with which certain frailties are +regarded by the author, I am compelled to ask whether the reverend dean, +with the severity of whose morals I am well acquainted, would have spent +his time in writing what we have just read.</p> + +<p>There are not sufficient grounds, however, for denying positively that +the reverend dean was the author of these <i>paralipomena</i>. The question, +therefore, may still be left in doubt, as in substance they contain +nothing opposed to Catholic doctrine or to Christian morality. On the +contrary, if we examine them carefully, we shall see that they contain a +lesson to pride and arrogance, in the person of Don Luis. This history +might easily serve as an appendix to the "Spiritual Disillusions" of +Father Arbiol.</p> + +<p>As for the opinion entertained by two or three ingenious friends of mine +that the reverend dean, if he were the author, would have used a +different style in his narration, saying "my nephew" in speaking of Don +Luis, and interposing, from time to time, moral reflections of his own, +I do not think it an argument of any great weight. The reverend dean +proposed to himself to tell what had taken place, without seeking to +prove any thesis, and he acted with judgment in narrating things as they +were, without analyzing motives or moralizing. He did not do ill, +either, in my opinion, in concealing his personality, and in avoiding +the use of the word <i>I</i>, which is a proof, not only of his humility and +modesty, but of his literary taste also, for the epic poets and +historians who should serve us as models, do not say <i>I</i>, even when +speaking of themselves, and are themselves the heroes of the events they +relate. The Athenian Xenophon, to cite an instance, does not say <i>I</i> in +his "Anabasis" but speaks of himself in the third person, when +necessary, as if the historian of those exploits were one person, and +the hero of them another. And there are whole chapters in which no +mention at all is made of Xenophon. Only a little before the famous +battle in which the youthful Cyrus met his death, while this prince was +reviewing the Greeks and barbarians who formed his army, and when that +of his brother Artaxerxes was already near, having been descried on the +broad, treeless plain afar off, first as a little white cloud, then as a +black spot, and, finally, clearly and distinctly—the neighing of the +horses, the creaking of the war-chariots armed with formidable scythes, +the cries of the elephants and the sound of warlike instruments reaching +the ears of the spectators, and the glitter of the brass and gold of the +weapons, irradiated by the sun, striking their eyes—only at that +moment, I repeat, and not before, does Xenophon appear in his own +person; then he emerges from the ranks to speak with Cyrus, and explains +to him the cry that ran from Greek to Greek; it was no other than what +in our day we call the watchword; and on that occasion it was "<i>Jupiter +the Savior, and victory!</i>"</p> + +<p>The reverend dean, who was a man of taste, and very well versed in the +classics, would not be likely to fall into the error of introducing +himself into the narrative, and mixing himself up with it, under pretext +of being the uncle or tutor of the hero; and of vexing the reader by +coming out at every step a little difficult or slippery, with a "Stop +there!" or "What are you about to do?" or, "Take care you do not fall, +unhappy boy!" or other warnings of a like sort. Not to open his lips, +on the other hand, or manifest disapprobation in any way whatever, he +being present at least in spirit, would, in the case of some of the +incidents related, have been but little becoming. In view of these +facts, the reverend dean, with the discretion which was characteristic +of him, may possibly have composed the <i>paralipomena</i>, without +disclosing his identity to the reader. This much is certain, however—he +added notes and comments of an edifying and profitable character, where +such or such a passage seemed to require them. But these I have +suppressed, for the reason that notes and comments are now out of +fashion, and because this little book would be beyond measure voluminous +if it were printed with these additions.</p> + +<p>I shall insert here, however, in the body of the text, the comment of +the reverend dean on the rapid transformation of Don Luis from +spiritual-mindedness to the reverse, as it is curious and throws much +light on the whole matter.</p> + +<p>"This change of purpose of my nephew," he says, "does not disappoint me. +I foresaw it from the time he wrote me his first letters. I was deceived +in regard to Luisito in the beginning. I believed him to have a true +religious vocation; but I soon recognized the fact that his was a vain +poetic spirit. Mysticism was the form his poetic imaginings took, only +until a more adequate form presented itself.</p> + +<p>"Praised be God, who has willed that Luisito should be undeceived in +time! A bad priest he would have made, if Pepita Ximenez had not so +opportunely presented herself. His very impatience to attain to +perfection at a single bound would have caused me to suspect something +if I had not been blinded by the affection of an uncle. What! are the +favors of Heaven thus obtained all at once? Is it only necessary to +present one's self in order to triumph? A friend of mine, a naval +officer, used to relate that, when he was in certain cities of America, +being then very young, he sought to gain favor with the ladies with too +much precipitation, and that they would say to him in their languid +American accent: 'You have but just presented yourself, and you already +want to be loved. Do something to deserve it, if you are able.' If these +ladies answered thus, what answer will not Heaven give to those who hope +to gain it without merit, and in the twinkling of an eye? Many efforts +must be made, much purification is needed, much penance must be done, in +order to begin to stand well in the sight of God, and to enjoy his +favors. Even in those vain and false philosophies that have in them +anything of mysticism, no supernatural gift or grace is received without +a powerful effort and a costly sacrifice. Iamblichus was not given +power to evoke the genii, and cause them to emerge from the fountain of +Gadara, without first spending days and nights in study, and mortifying +the body with privations and abstinences. Apollonius of Tyana is thought +to have mortified himself finely before performing his false miracles. +And in our own day the Krausists, who behold God, as they affirm, with +corporeal vision, are forced to read and learn beforehand the whole +"Analytics" of Sanz del RÃo, which is a much harder task and a greater +proof of patience and endurance than to flagellate the body until it +looks like a ripe fig. My nephew desired, without effort or merit, to be +a perfect man, and—see how it has ended! The important thing now is +that he shall make a good husband, and that, since he is unsuited for +great things, he may be fit for smaller ones—for domestic life, and to +make Pepita happy, whose only fault, after all, is to have fallen madly +in love with him, with all the ingenuousness and violence of an untamed +creature."</p> + +<p class="top5">Thus far the comments of the reverend dean, written with easy +familiarity, as if for himself alone; for the good man was far from +suspecting that I would play him the trick of giving them to the public.</p> + +<p class="top5">Don Luis, in the middle of the street, at two o'clock in the morning, +was occupied with the thought, as we have said, that his life, that +until now he had dreamed might be worthy of the "Golden Legend," was +about to be converted into a sweet and perpetual idyl. He had not been +able to resist the lures of earthly passion. He had failed to imitate +the example set by so many saints, among others by St. Vincent Ferrer +with regard, to a certain dissolute lady of Valencia; though, indeed, +the cases were dissimilar. For if to flee from the diabolical courtesan +in question was an act of heroic virtue in St. Vincent, to flee from the +self-abandonment, the ingenuousness, and the humility of Pepita would, +in him, have been something as monstrous and cruel as if, when Ruth lay +down at the feet of Boaz, saying to him, "I am thy handmaid; spread +therefore thy skirt over thine handmaid," Boaz had given her a blow and +sent her about her business! Don Luis, then, when Pepita surrendered +herself to him, was obliged to follow the example of Boaz, and exclaim: +"Daughter, blessed be thou of the Lord; thou hast shewed more kindness +in the latter end than at the beginning." Thus did Don Luis justify +himself in not following the example of St. Vincent, and other saints no +less churlish. As for the ill success of the design he had entertained +of imitating St. Edward, he tried also to justify and excuse it. St. +Edward married for reasons of state, and without entertaining any +affection for Queen Edith; but in his case and in that of Pepita +Ximenez there were no reasons of state, but only a tender love on both +sides.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, however, did not deny to himself—and this imparted to his +present happiness a slight tinge of melancholy—that he had proved false +to his ideal; that he had been vanquished in the conflict. Those who +have no ideal, who have never had an ideal, would not distress +themselves on this account. Don Luis did distress himself; but he +presently came to the conclusion that he would substitute a more humble +and easily attained ideal for his former exalted one. And although the +recollection of Don Quixote's resolution to turn shepherd, on being +vanquished by the Knight of the White Moon, here crossed his mind with +ludicrous appositeness, he was in no way daunted by it. He thought, in +union with Pepita Ximenez, to renew, in our prosaic and unbelieving +time, the golden age, and to repeat the pious example of Philemon and +Baucis, creating: a model of patriarchal life in these pleasant fields, +founding in the place where he was born a home presided over by +religion, that should be at once the asylum of the needy, the center of +culture and friendly conviviality, and the clear mirror in which the +domestic virtues should be reflected; joining in one, finally, conjugal +love and the love of God, in order that God might sanctify and be +present in their dwelling, making it the temple in which both should be +his ministers, until, by the will of Heaven, they should be called to a +better life.</p> + +<p>Two obstacles must first be removed, however, before all this could be +realized, and Don Luis began to consider with himself how he might best +remove them.</p> + +<p>The one was the displeasure, perhaps the anger, of his father, whom he +had defrauded of his dearest hopes. The other was of a very different +and, in a certain sense, of a much more serious character. Don Luis, +while he entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was right in +defending Pepita from the gross insults of the Count of Genazahar by the +weapons of argument only, and in taking no vengeance for the scorn and +contempt with which those arguments were listened to. But, having now +determined to lay aside the cassock, and obliged, as he was, to declare +immediately that he was betrothed to Pepita and was going to marry her, +Don Luis, notwithstanding his peaceable disposition, his dreams of human +brotherhood, and his religious belief, all of which remained intact in +his soul, and all of which were alike opposed to violent measures, could +not succeed in reconciling it with his dignity to refrain from breaking +the head of the insolent count. He knew well that dueling is a barbarous +practice; that Pepita had no need of the blood of the count to wash +from her name the stain of calumny; and even that the count himself had +uttered the insults he had uttered, not because he believed them, nor +perhaps through an excess of hatred, but through stupidity and want of +breeding. Notwithstanding all these reflections, however, Don Luis was +conscious that he would never again be able to respect himself, and, as +a consequence, would never be able to perform to his taste the <i>rôle</i> of +Philemon, if he did not begin with that of Furabras, by giving the count +his deserts; asking God, meantime, never again to place him in a similar +position.</p> + +<p>This matter, then, being decided upon, he resolved to bring it to an end +as soon as possible. And as it appeared to him that it would be +inexpedient, as well as in bad taste, to arrange the affair through +seconds, and thus make the honor of Pepita a subject of common talk, he +determined to provoke a quarrel with the count under some other pretext.</p> + +<p>Thinking that the count, being a stranger in the village and a confirmed +gambler, might possibly be still engaged at play in the club-house, +notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Don Luis went straight there.</p> + +<p>The club-house was still open, but, both in the court-yard and the +parlors, the lights were nearly all extinguished. In one apartment only +was there still a light. Thither Don Luis directed his steps, and, on +reaching it, he saw through the open door the Count of Genazahar engaged +in playing <i>monte</i>, in which he acted as banker. Only five other persons +were playing; two were strangers like the count; the others were the +captain of cavalry in charge of the remount, Currito, and the doctor. +Things could not have been better arranged to suit the purpose of Don +Luis. So engrossed were the players in their game that they did not +observe him, who, as soon as he saw the count, left the club-house and +went rapidly homeward.</p> + +<p>On reaching his house the door was opened for him by a servant. Don Luis +inquired for his father, and, finding that he was asleep, procured a +light and went up to his own room, taking care to make no noise lest he +should disturb him. There he took some three thousand reals in gold that +he had laid by, and put them in his pocket. He then called the servant +to open the door for him again, and returned to the club-house.</p> + +<p>Arrived there, Don Luis entered the parlor in which the players were, +walking noisily, and giving himself the airs of a fop. The players were +struck with amazement at seeing him.</p> + +<p>"You here, at this hour!" said Currito.</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from, little priest?" said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Have you come to preach me another sermon?" cried the count.</p> + +<p>"I have done with sermons," returned Don Luis, calmly. "The bad success +of the last one I preached has clearly convinced me that God does not +call me to that path in life, and I have chosen another. You, count, +have wrought my conversion. I have thrown aside the cassock. I wish to +amuse myself; I am in the flower of my youth, and I want to enjoy it."</p> + +<p>"Come, I am glad of that," returned the count; "but take care, my lad, +for, if the flower be a delicate one, it may wither and drop its leaves +before their time."</p> + +<p>"I shall take care of that," returned Don Luis. "I see you are playing; +I feel inspired. You are dealing. Do you know, count, that it would be +amusing if I should break your bank?"</p> + +<p>"You think it would be amusing, eh? You have been dining liberally!"</p> + +<p>"I have dined as I choose to dine."</p> + +<p>"The youngster is learning to answer back."</p> + +<p>"I learn what it is my pleasure to learn."</p> + +<p>"Damnation!" cried the count, and the storm was about to burst, when the +captain, interposing, succeeded in re-establishing the peace.</p> + +<p>"Come," said the count, when he had recovered his temper, "out with your +cash, and try your luck."</p> + +<p>Don Luis seated himself at the table, and took out all his gold. At +sight of it the count regained his serenity completely, for it must have +exceeded in amount the sum he had in the bank, and he already pleased +himself in anticipation with the thought of winning it.</p> + +<p>"There is no need to cudgel one's brains much in this game," said Don +Luis to the count; "I think I understand it already. I put money on a +card, and if the card turns up, I win; and if the card opposed to it +turns up, you win."</p> + +<p>"Just so, my young friend; you have a strong understanding."</p> + +<p>"And the best of it is that I have not only a strong understanding, but +a strong will as well. But, though I may have the stubbornness of the +donkey, I am not the complete donkey that many a one I know of is."</p> + +<p>"What a witty mood you are in to-night, and how anxious you are to +display your wit!"</p> + +<p>Don Luis was silent. He played a few times, and was so lucky as to win +each time.</p> + +<p>The count began to be annoyed.</p> + +<p>"What if the youngster should pluck me?" he said to himself. "Fortune +favors the innocent."</p> + +<p>While the count was troubling himself with this reflection, Don Luis, +feeling fatigued, and weary now of the part he was playing, determined +to end the matter at once.</p> + +<p>"The object of all this," he said, "is to see if I can win all your +gold, or if you can win mine. Is it not so, count?"</p> + +<p>"Just so."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, why should we remain here all night? It is getting late, +and, according to your advice, I ought to retire early, so that the +flower of my youth may not wither before its time."</p> + +<p>"How is this? Do you want to go away already? Do you want to back out?"</p> + +<p>"I have not the slightest desire to back out. Quite the +contrary.—Currito, tell me, in this heap of gold here, is there not +already more than there is in the bank?"</p> + +<p>Currito looked at the gold and answered:</p> + +<p>"Without a doubt."</p> + +<p>"How shall I explain," asked Don Luis, "that I wish to stake on one card +all that I have here, against what there is in the bank?"</p> + +<p>"You do that," responded Currito, "by saying, 'I play <i>banco!</i>'"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I play <i>banco</i>," said Don Luis, addressing himself to the +count; "I play <i>banco</i> on this king of spades, whose companion will to a +certainty turn up before his opponent the three does."</p> + +<p>The count, whose whole cash capital was in the bank, began to be alarmed +at the risk he ran; but there was nothing for it but to accept.</p> + +<p>It is a common saying that those who are fortunate in love are +unfortunate at play but the reverse of this is often more nearly the +truth. He who is fortunate in one thing is apt to be fortunate in +everything; it is the same when one is unfortunate.</p> + +<p>The count continued to draw cards, but no <i>three</i> turned up. His +emotion, notwithstanding his efforts to conceal it, was great. Finally, +he came to a card which he knew by the lines at the top to be the king +of hearts, and paused.</p> + +<p>"Draw," said the captain.</p> + +<p>"It is no use! The king of hearts! Curses on it! The little priest has +plucked me. Take up your money."</p> + +<p>The count threw the cards angrily on the table.</p> + +<p>Don Luis took up the money calmly, and with apparent indifference.</p> + +<p>After a short silence the count said:</p> + +<p>"My little priest, you must give me my revenge."</p> + +<p>"I see no such necessity."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that between gentlemen—"</p> + +<p>"According to that rule the game would have no end," said Don Luis, "and +it would be better to save one's self the trouble of playing +altogether."</p> + +<p>"Give me my revenge," replied the count, without paying any attention to +this argument.</p> + +<p>"Be it so," returned Don Luis; "I wish to be generous."</p> + +<p>The count took up the cards again, and proceeded to deal.</p> + +<p>"Stop a moment," said Don Luis; "let us understand each other. Where is +the money for your new bank?"</p> + +<p>The count showed signs of confusion and disturbance.</p> + +<p>"I have no money here," he returned, "but it seems to me that my word is +more than enough."</p> + +<p>Don Luis answered, with grave and measured accent:</p> + +<p>"Count, I should be quite willing to trust the word of a gentleman, and +allow him to remain in my debt, if it were not that in doing so I should +fear to lose your friendship, which I am now in a fair way to gain; but, +as I was a witness this morning to the cruelty with which you treated +certain friends of mine, to whom you are indebted, I do not wish to run +the risk of becoming culpable in your eyes by means of the same fault. +How ridiculous to suppose that I should voluntarily incur your enmity by +lending you money which you would not repay me, as you have not repaid, +except with insults, that which you owe Pepita Ximenez!"</p> + +<p>From the fact that this accusation was true, the offense was all the +greater. The count became livid with anger, and, by this time on his +feet, ready to come to blows with the collegian.</p> + +<p>"You lie, slanderer!" he exclaimed. "I shall tear you limb from limb, +you——"</p> + +<p>This last insult, which concerned the honor of her whose memory was most +sacred to him, was never finished; its end never reached his ears. For, +with marvelous quickness, dexterity, and force, he reached across the +table which was between himself and the count, and, with the light, +flexible bamboo cane with which he had armed himself, struck his +antagonist on the face, raising on it instantly a dark purple welt.</p> + +<p>There was neither retort, outcry, nor uproar after this. When the hands +come into play, the tongue is apt to be silent. The count was about to +throw himself on Don Luis, for the purpose of tearing him to pieces, if +it were in his power. But opinion had changed greatly since yesterday +morning, and was now on the side of Don Luis. The captain, the doctor, +and even Currito, who now showed more courage than he had done on that +occasion, all held back the count, who struggled and fought ferociously +to release himself.</p> + +<p>"Let me go!" he cried; "let me get at him and kill him!"</p> + +<p>"I do not seek to prevent a duel," said the captain; "a duel is +inevitable. I only seek to prevent your fighting here, like two porters. +I should be wanting in self-respect if I consented to be present at +such a combat."</p> + +<p>"Let weapons be brought!" said the count; "I do not wish to defer the +affair for a single moment. At once—and here!"</p> + +<p>"Will you fight with sabers?" said the captain.</p> + +<p>"Yes," responded Don Luis.</p> + +<p>"Sabers be it," said the count.</p> + +<p>All this was said in a low voice, so that nothing might be heard in the +street. Even the servants of the club-house, who slept on chairs in the +kitchen and in the yard, were not awakened by the noise.</p> + +<p>Don Luis chose as his seconds the captain and Currito; the count chose +the two strangers. The doctor made ready to practice his art, and show +the signal of the Red Cross.</p> + +<p>It was not yet daylight. It was agreed that the apartment in which they +were, should be the field of combat, the door being first closed. The +captain went to his house for the sabers, and returned soon afterward, +carrying them under the cloak which he had put on for the purpose of +concealing them from view.</p> + +<p>We already know that Don Luis had never wielded a weapon in his life. +Fortunately the count, although he had never studied theology, or +entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was not much more skilled +than he in the art of handling the broadsword.</p> + +<p>The only roles laid down for the duel were that, their sabers once in +hand, each of the combatants should use his weapon as Heaven might best +direct him.</p> + +<p>The door of the apartment was closed. The tables and chairs were placed +in a corner, to leave a free field for the combatants, and the lights +were suitably disposed.</p> + +<p>Don Luis and the count divested themselves of their coats and +waistcoats, remaining in their shirt-sleeves, and selected, each one, +his weapon. The seconds stood on one side. At a signal from the captain, +the combat began. Between two persons who know neither how to parry a +stroke nor how to put themselves on guard, a combat must of necessity be +brief; and such this one was.</p> + +<p>The fury of the count, restrained for some time past, now burst forth +and blinded his reason. He was strong, and he had wrists of steel; and +he showered down on Don Luis, with his saber, a rain of blows without +order or sequence. Four times he succeeded in touching Don Luis—each +time, fortunately, with the flat of his weapon. He bruised his +shoulders, but did not wound him. The young theologian had need of all +his strength to keep from falling to the floor, overcome by the force of +the blows and the pain of his bruises. A fifth time the count struck +Don Luis, and this time with the edge of his weapon, although sidewise. +The blood of Don Luis began to flow abundantly. Far from stopping, the +count resumed the attack with renewed fury, in the hope of again +wounding his antagonist. He almost placed himself under the weapon of +Don Luis. The latter, instead of putting himself in position to parry, +brought his sword down vigorously on his adversary, and succeeded in +wounding the count in the head. The blood gushed forth, and ran down his +forehead and into his eyes. Stunned by the blow, the count fell heavily +to the floor.</p> + +<p>The whole combat was a matter of a few seconds. Don Luis had remained +tranquil throughout, like a Stoic philosopher, who is obliged by the +hard law of necessity to take part in a conflict opposed alike to his +habits and his ways of thought. But no sooner did he see his antagonist +extended on the floor, bathed in blood and looking as though he were +dead, than he experienced the most poignant anguish, and feared for a +moment that he should faint. He who, until within the last five or six +hours, had held unwaveringly to his resolution of being a priest, a +missionary, a minister and a messenger of the gospel, had committed, or +accused himself of having committed, during those few hours, every +crime, and of breaking all the commandments of God. There was now no +mortal sin by which he was not contaminated. First, his purpose of +leading a life of perfect and heroic holiness had been put to flight; +then followed his purpose of leading a life of holiness of a more easy, +comfortable, and <i>bourgeois</i> sort. The devil seemed to please himself in +over-throwing his plans. He reflected that he could now no longer be +even a Christian Philemon, for to lay his neighbor's head open with a +stroke of a saber was not a very good beginning of his idyl.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, after the agitations of the day, was now in a condition +resembling that of a man who has brain-fever. Currito and the captain, +one at each side, took hold of him and led him home.</p> + +<p class="top5">Don Pedro de Vargas got out of bed in terror when he was told that his +son had come home wounded. He ran to see him, examined his bruises and +the wound in his arm, and saw that they were none of them attended with +danger; but he broke out into threats of vengeance, and would not be +pacified until he was made acquainted with the particulars of the +affair, and learned that Don Luis had known how to avenge himself in +spite of his theology.</p> + +<p>The doctor came soon after to examine the wound, and was of opinion that +in three or four days' time Don Luis would be able to go out again, as +if nothing had happened. With the count, on the other hand, it would be +a matter of months. His life, however, was in no danger. He had returned +to consciousness, and had asked to be taken to his own village, which +was distant only a league from the village which these events took +place. A hired coach had been procured, and he had been taken thither, +accompanied by his servant, and the two strangers who had acted as his +seconds.</p> + +<p>Four days after the affair the doctor's opinion was justified by the +result, and Don Luis, although sore from his bruises, and with his wound +still open, was in a condition to go out, and promised a complete +recovery within a short time.</p> + +<p>The first duty which Don Luis thought himself obliged to fulfill, as +soon as he was off the sick-list, was to confess to his father his love +for Pepita, and his intention of marrying her.</p> + +<p>Don Pedro had not gone to the country, nor had he occupied himself in +any other way than in taking care of his son during the sickness of the +latter. He was constantly at his side, waiting on him and petting him +with tender affection.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the 27th of June, after the doctor had gone, Don Pedro +being alone with his son, the confession, so difficult for Don Luis to +make, took place in the following manner:</p> + +<p>"Father," said Don Luis, "I ought not to deceive you any longer. To-day +I am going to confess my faults to you, and cast away hypocrisy."</p> + +<p>"If it is a confession you are about to make, my boy, it would be better +for you to send for the reverend vicar. My standard of morality is an +indulgent one, and I shall give you absolution for everything, without +my absolution being of much value to you, however. But if you wish to +confide to me some weighty secret, as to your best friend, begin by all +means; I am ready to listen to you."</p> + +<p>"What I am about to confess to you is a very serious fault of which I +have been guilty; and I am ashamed to—"</p> + +<p>"You have no need to be ashamed before your father; speak frankly."</p> + +<p>Here Don Luis, growing very red, and with visible confusion, said:</p> + +<p>"My secret is, that I am in love with—Pepita Ximenez—and that she—"</p> + +<p>Don Pedro interrupted his son with a burst of laughter, and finished the +sentence for him:</p> + +<p>"And that she is in love with you, and that on the night of St. John's +eve you were with her in tender conference until two o'clock in the +morning, and that, for her sake, you sought a quarrel with the Count of +Genazahar, whose head you have broken. A pretty secret you confide to +me, truly! There isn't a cat or a dog in the village that is not fully +acquainted with every detail of the business. The only thing there +seemed a possibility of being able to conceal was, that your interview +lasted until just two o'clock in the morning; but some gypsy cake-women +chanced to see you leave Pepita's house, and did not stop until they had +told every living creature in the place of it. Pepita, besides, makes no +great effort to conceal the truth, and in this she does well, for that +would be only the concealment of Antequera. Since you have been wounded, +Pepita comes here twice a day, and sends Antoñona two or three times +more to inquire after you; and if they have not come in to see you, it +is because I would not consent to their doing so, lest it should excite +you."</p> + +<p>The confusion and the distress of Don Luis reached their climax when he +heard his father thus compendiously tell the whole story.</p> + +<p>"How surprised," he said, "how astounded you must have been!"</p> + +<p>"No, my boy, I was neither surprised nor astounded. The matter has been +known in the village only for four days, and indeed, to tell the truth, +your transformation did create some surprise. 'Oh, the sly-boots! the +wolf in sheep's clothing! the hypocrite!' every one exclaimed, 'how we +have been deceived in him!' The reverend vicar, above all, is quite +bewildered. He is still crossing himself to think how you toiled in the +vineyard of the Lord on the night of the 23d and the morning of the +24th, and of how diverse a character were your labors. But there was +nothing in these occurrences to surprise me, except your wound. We old +people can feel the grass grow. It is not easy for the chickens to +deceive the huckster."</p> + +<p>"It is true, I sought to deceive you! I have been a hypocrite!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool; I do not say this to blame you. I say it in order to +give myself an air of perspicacity. But let us speak with frankness. My +boasting is, after all, without foundation. I knew, step by step, for +more than two months past, the progress of your love-affair with Pepita; +but I know it because your uncle the dean, to whom you were writing all +that passed within your mind, has communicated it to me. Listen to your +uncle's letter of accusation, and to the answer I gave him, a very +important document, of which I have kept the copy."</p> + +<p>Don Pedro took some papers from his pocket, and read as follows:</p> + +<p class="c top5"> +<i>The Dean's Letter.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Brother</span>: It grieves me to the heart to be obliged to give you a +piece of bad news; but I trust that God will grant you patience and +endurance to enable you to hear it without feeling too much anger or +bitterness. Luisito has been writing me strange letters for some days +past, in which he reveals, in the midst of his mystical exaltation, an +inclination, earthly and sinful enough, toward a certain widow, +charming, mischievous, and coquettish, who lives in your village. Up to +the present I had deceived myself, believing Luisito's vocation to be a +true one; and I flattered myself with giving to the Church of God, in +him, a wise, virtuous, and exemplary priest. But his letters have +dispelled my illusions. Luisito shows himself, in them, to have more of +poetry than of true piety in his nature; and the widow, who must be a +limb of Satan, will be able to vanquish him with but a very slight +effort. Although I write to Luisito admonishing him to flee from +temptation, I am already certain that he will fall into it. This ought +not to grieve me; for, if he is to be false to his vocation, to indulge +in gallantries, and to make love, it is better that this evil +disposition should reveal itself in time, and that he should not become +a priest. I should not, therefore, see any serious objection to +Luisito's remaining with you, for the purpose of being tested by the +touchstone and analyzed in the crucible of such a love, making the +little widow the agent by whose means might be discovered how great is +the quantity of the pure gold of his clerical virtues, and how much +alloy is mixed with that gold, were it not that we are met by the +difficulty that the widow whom we would thus convert into a faithful +assayer, is the object of your own addresses, and, it may be, your +sweetheart. That your son should turn out to be your rival would be too +serious a matter. This would be a monstrous scandal, and, to avoid it in +time, I write to you to-day to the end that, under whatever pretext, you +may send or bring Luisito here—the sooner the better."</p> + +<p>Don Luis listened in silence, and with his eyes cast down. His father +continued:</p> + +<p>"To this letter of the dean I answered as follows:</p> + +<p class="c top5"> +<i>Don Pedro's Answer.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Brother and Venerable Spiritual Father</span>: I return you a thousand +thanks for the news you send me, and for your counsel and advice. +Although I flatter myself with not being wanting in shrewdness, I +confess my stupidity on this occasion; I was blinded by vanity. Pepita +Ximenez, from the time that my son arrived here, manifested toward me so +much amiability and affection that I began to indulge in pleasing hopes +on my own account. Your letter was necessary to undeceive me. I now +understand that in making herself so sociable, in showing me so many +attentions, and in dancing attendance on me, as she did, this cunning +Pepita had in her mind only the father of the smooth-faced theologian. I +shall not attempt to conceal from you that, for the moment, this +disappointment mortified and distressed me a little; but, when I +reflected over it with due consideration, my mortification and my +distress were converted into joy. Luis is an excellent boy. Since he has +been with me, I have learned to regard him with much greater affection +than formerly. I parted from him, and gave him up to you to educate, +because my own life was not very exemplary, and, for this and other +reasons, he would have grown up here a savage. You went beyond my hopes +and even my desires, and almost made of Luisito a father of the Church. +To have a holy son would have flattered my vanity; but I should have +been very sorry to remain without an heir to my house and name, who +would give me handsome grandchildren, and who, after my death, would +enjoy my wealth, which is my glory, for I acquired it by skill and +industry, and not by artifices and tricks. Perhaps the conviction I had +that there was no remedy, and that Luis would inevitably go to convert +the Chinese, the Indians, and the blacks of Monicongo made me resolve on +marrying, so as to provide myself with an heir. Naturally enough, I cast +my eyes on Pepita Ximenez, who is not, as you imagine, a limb of Satan, +but a lovely creature, as innocent as an angel, and ardent in her +nature, rather than coquettish. I have so good an opinion of Pepita +that, if she were again sixteen, with a domineering mother who +tyrannized over her, and if I were eighty, like Don Gumersindo, that is +to say, if death were already knocking at the door, I would marry +Pepita, that her smile might cheer me on my death-bed, as if my guardian +angel had taken human shape in her; and for the purpose of leaving her +my position, my fortune, and my name. But Pepita is not sixteen, but +twenty, nor is she now in the power of that serpent, her mother; nor am +I eighty, but fifty-five. I am at the very worst age, because I begin to +feel myself considerably the worse for wear, with something of asthma, a +good deal of cough, rheumatic pains, and other chronic ailments; yet the +devil a wish have I to die, notwithstanding! I believe I shall not die +for twenty years to come, and, as I am thirty-five years older than +Pepita, you may calculate the miserable future that would await her, +tied to an old man who would live forever. At the end of a few years of +marriage she would be compelled to hate me, notwithstanding her +goodness. Doubtless it is because she is good and wise, that she has not +chosen to accept me for a husband, notwithstanding the perseverance and +the obstinacy with which I have proposed it to her. How much do I not +thank her for this now! Even my self-love, wounded by her scorn, is +soothed by the reflection that, if she does not love me, at least she +loves one of my blood; she is captivated by a son of mine. If this fresh +and luxuriant ivy, I say to myself, refuses to twine around the old +trunk, worm-eaten already, it climbs by it to reach the new sprout it +has put forth—a green and flourishing offshoot. May God bless them +both, and make their love prosper! Far from taking the boy to you again, +I shall keep him here—by force, if it be necessary. I have determined +to conspire against his vocation. I dream already of seeing him married. +I shall grow young again, contemplating the handsome pair, joined +together by love. And how will it be when they shall have given me a +couple of grandchildren? Instead of going as a missionary, and bringing +back to me from Australia, or Madagascar, or India, neophytes black as +soot, with lips the size of your hand, or yellow as deer-skin, and with +eyes like owls, would it not be better for Luisito to preach the gospel +in his own house, and to give me a series of little catechumens, fair, +rosy, with eyes like those of Pepita, who will resemble cherubim without +wings? The catechumens he would bring me from those foreign lands I +should have to keep at a respectful distance, in order not to be +overpowered by their odor; while those I speak of would seem to me like +roses of paradise, and would come to climb up on my knees, and would +call me grand-papa, and pat with their little hands the bald spot I am +beginning to get. What would you have? When I was in all my vigor, I did +not think of domestic joys; but now, that I am approaching old age, if I +have not already entered on it, as I have no intention of turning monk, +I please myself in thinking that I shall play the <i>rôle</i> of patriarch. +And do not imagine, either, that I am going to leave it to time to bring +to a happy close this incipient engagement. No! I shall myself set to +work to do this. Continuing your comparison, since you transform Pepita +into a crucible, and Luis into a metal, I shall find, or rather I have +found already, a bellows, or blow-pipe, very well adapted to kindle up +the fire, so that the metal may melt in it the more quickly. Antoñona +has an understanding with me already, and through her I know that Pepita +is over head and ears in love. We have agreed that I shall continue to +seem blind to everything, and to know nothing of what passes. The +reverend vicar, who is a simple soul, always in the clouds, helps me as +much as Antoñona does, or more, and without knowing it, because he +repeats to Pepita everything Luis says to him, and everything Pepita +says to him to Luis; so that this excellent man, with the weight of +half a century in each foot, has been converted—O miracle of love and +of innocence!—into a carrier-dove by which the two lovers send each +other their flatteries and endearments, while they are as ignorant as he +is of the fact. So powerful a combination of natural and artificial +methods ought to give an infallible result. You will be made acquainted +with this result when I give you notice of the wedding, so that you may +come to perform the ceremony, or else send the lovers your blessing and +a handsome present."</p> + +<p class="top5">With these words Don Pedro finished the reading of his letter; and, on +looking again at Don Luis, he saw that he had been listening to him with +his eyes full of tears.</p> + +<p>Father and son gave each other a long and close embrace.</p> + +<p class="top5">Just a month from the date of this interview, the wedding of Don Luis de +Vargas and Pepita Ximenez took place.</p> + +<p>The reverend dean—fearing the ridicule of his brother at the +spiritual-mindedness of Don Luis having thus come to naught, and +recognizing also that he would not play a very dignified <i>rôle</i> in the +village, where every one would say he had a poor knack at turning out +saints—declined to be present, giving his occupations as an excuse; +although he sent his blessing, and a magnificent pair of ear-rings as a +present for Pepita.</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar, therefore, had the pleasure of marrying her to Don +Luis.</p> + +<p>The bride, elegantly attired, was thought lovely by every one, and was +looked upon as a good exchange for the hair shirt and the scourge.</p> + +<p>That night Don Pedro gave a magnificent ball in the court-yard of his +house and the contiguous apartments. Servants and gentlemen, nobles and +laborers, ladies and country-girls were present, and mingled together, +as if it were the ideal golden age—though why called golden I know not. +Four skillful, or if not skillful at least indefatigable guitar-players +played a <i>fandango</i>. Two gypsies, a man and a woman, both famous +singers, sang verses of a tender character and appropriate to the +occasion; and the school-master read epithalamium in heroic verse.</p> + +<p>There were tarts, fritters, jumbles, ginger-bread, sponge-cake, and wine +in abundance for the common people. The gentry regaled themselves selves +with liquors, chocolate, orange cordial, honey, and various kinds of +aromatic and delicate punches.</p> + +<p>Don Pedro was like a boy—sprightly, gallant, and full of jests. It did +not look as if there were much truth in what he had said in his letter +to the dean in regard to his rheumatism and other ailments. He danced +the <i>fandango</i> with Pepita, as also with the most attractive among her +maids and with six or seven of the village girls. He gave each of them, +on reconducting her, tired out, to her seat, the prescribed embrace, and +to the least serious of them a couple of pinches, though this latter +forms no part of the ceremonial. He carried his gallantry to the extreme +of dancing with Doña Casilda, who could not refuse him; who, with her +two hundred and fifty pounds of humanity, and the heat of July, +perspired at every pore. Finally, Don Pedro stuffed Currito so full, and +made him drink so often to the health of the newly married pair, that +the muleteer Dientes was obliged to carry him home to sleep off the +effect of his excesses, slung like a skin of wine across the back of an +ass!</p> + +<p>The ball lasted until three in the morning; but the young couple +discreetly disappeared before eleven, and retired to the house of +Pepita. There Don Luis re-entered, with light, pomp, and majesty, and as +adored lord and master, the room which, little more than a month before, +he had entered in darkness, and filled with terror and confusion.</p> + +<p>Although it is the unfailing use and custom of the village to treat +every widow or widower who marries again to a terrible <i>charivari</i>, +leaving them not a moment's rest from the cow-bells during the first +night after marriage, Pepita was such a favorite, Don Pedro was so much +respected, and Don Luis was so beloved, that there were no bells on this +occasion, nor was there the least attempt made at ringing them—a +singular circumstance, which is recorded as such in the annals of the +village.</p> + + + +<h3><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>EPILOGUE.<br /> +LETTERS OF MY BROTHER</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> history of Pepita and Luisito should, properly speaking, end here. +This epilogue is not necessary to the story; but, as it formed part of +the bundle of papers left at his death by the reverend dean, although we +refrain from publishing it entire, we shall at least give a sample of +it.</p> + +<p>No one can entertain the least doubt that Don Luis and Pepita, united by +an irresistible love, almost of the same age, she beautiful, he brave +and handsome, both intelligent and full of goodness, would enjoy during +a long life as much peace and happiness as falls to the lot of mortals. +And this supposition, which, for those who have read the preceding +narrative, is a logically drawn deduction from it, is converted into a +certainty for him who reads the epilogue.</p> + +<p>The epilogue gives, besides, some information respecting the secondary +personages of the narrative, in whose fate the reader may possibly be +interested. It consists of a collection of letters addressed by Don +Pedro de Vargas to his brother the dean, dating from the day of his +son's marriage to four years later.</p> + +<p>Without prefixing to them the dates, although following their +chronological order, we shall transcribe here a few short extracts from +these letters, and thus bring our task to an end:</p> + +<p class="top5">Luis manifests the most lively gratitude toward Antoñona, without whose +services he would not now possess Pepita. But this woman, the accomplice +of the sole fault of which either he or Pepita had been guilty in their +lives, living as she did on the most familiar footing in the house, and +fully acquainted with all that had taken place, could not but be in the +way. To get rid of her, then, and at the same time to do her a service, +Luis set to work to bring about a reconciliation between her and her +husband, whose daily fits of drunkenness she had refused to put up with. +The son of Master Cencias gave his promise that he would get drunk +<i>hardly ever</i>; but he would not venture on an absolute and +uncompromising <i>never</i>. Confiding in this half-promise, however, +Antoñona consented to return to the conjugal roof. Husband and wife +being thus reunited, it occurred to Luis that a homeopathic principle of +treatment might prove efficacious with the son of Master Cencias, in +curing him radically of his vice; for, having heard it affirmed that +confectioners detest sweets, he concluded that, on the same principle, +tavern-keepers ought to detest whisky; and he sent Antoñona and her +husband to the capital of the province, where, at his own cost, he set +them up in a fine tavern. Both live there together happily; they have +succeeded in obtaining many patrons, and will probably become rich. He +still gets drunk occasionally; but Antoñona, who is the stronger of the +two, is accustomed at such times to give him a good trouncing, to help +on his cure.</p> + +<p class="top5">Currito, anxious to imitate his cousin, whom he admires more and more +every day, and seeing and enjoying the domestic felicity of Pepita and +Luis, has looked up a sweetheart in haste, and married the daughter of a +rich farmer of the place, health, fresh, red as a poppy, and who +promises soon to acquire proportions as ample as those of her +mother-in-law Casilda.</p> + +<p class="top5">The Count of Genazahar, after being confined to his bed for five months, +is now cured of his wound, and, according to what they say, is very much +improved in respect to his manners. He paid Pepita, a short time ago, +more than half of his debt to her, and asks for a respite in the payment +of the remainder.</p> + +<p class="top5">We have had a very great grief, although one that we had foreseen for +some time past. The father vicar, yielding to the advance of years, has +passed to a better life. Pepita remained to the last at his bedside, and +closed his eyes with her own beautiful hands. The father vicar died the +death of a blessed servant of the Lord. Rather than death, it seemed a +happy transit to serener regions. Nevertheless, Pepita and all of us +have mourned him sincerely. He has left behind him only a few dollars +and his furniture, for he gave all he had in alms. His death would have +made orphans of the poor of the village, if it were not that Pepita +still lives.</p> + +<p class="top5">Every one in the village laments the death of the reverend vicar; and +there are many who regard him as a real saint, worthy of religious +honors, and who attribute miracles to him. I know not how that may be, +but I do know that he was an excellent man, and that he must have gone +straight to heaven, where we may hope to have in him an intercessor. +With all this, his humility, his modesty, and his fear of God were such +that he spoke of his sins in the hour of death, as if he had in reality +committed any, and he besought our prayers to the Lord and to the Virgin +Mary for their forgiveness.</p> + +<p>A strong impression has been produced on the mind of Luis by the +exemplary life and death of this man. He was simple, it must be +confessed, and of limited intelligence, but of upright will, ardent, +faith, and fervent charity. When Luis compares himself with the vicar, +he feels humiliated. This has infused into his soul a certain bitter +melancholy; but Pepita, who has a great deal of tact, dissipates it with +smiles and caresses.</p> + +<p class="top5">Everything prospers with us. Luis and I have some wine-vaults than which +there are no better in Spain, if we except those of Xeres. The +olive-crop of this year has been superb. We can afford to allow +ourselves every species of luxury; and I counsel Luis and Pepita to make +the tour of Germany, France, and Italy, as soon as Pepita is over her +trouble, and once more in her usual health. The children may, without +improvidence or folly, throw away a few thousands of dollars on the +expedition, and bring back many fine books, pieces of furniture, and +objects of art, to adorn their dwelling.</p> + +<p>We have deferred the baptism for two weeks, in order that it may take +place on the first anniversary of the wedding. The child is a marvel of +beauty, and is very healthy. I am the godfather, and he has been named +after me. I am already dreaming of the time when Periquito shall begin +to talk, and amuse us with his prattle.</p> + +<p>In order that nothing may be wanting to the prosperity of this tender +pair, it turns out now, according to letters received from Havana, that +the brother of Pepita, whose evil ways we feared might disgrace the +family, is almost—and indeed without an <i>almost</i>—about to honor and +elevate it by becoming a person of eminence. During all the time in +which we heard nothing from him, he has been profiting by his +opportunities, and fortune has sent him favoring gales. He obtained +another employment in the custom-house; then he trafficked in negroes; +then he failed—an occurrence which for certain business men is like a +good pruning for trees, making them sprout again with fresh vigor—and +now he is so prosperous that he has formed the resolution of entering +the highest circles of the aristocracy, under the title of marquis or +duke. Pepita is frightened and troubled at this unexpected turn of +fortune, but I tell her not to be foolish: if her brother is, and must +in any case be, a rascal, is it not better that he should at least be a +fortunate one?</p> + +<p class="top5">We might thus go on making extracts did we not fear to weary the reader. +We shall end, then, by copying a few passages from one of the latest +letters:</p> + +<p class="top5">My children have returned from their travels in good health. Periquito +is very mischievous and very charming. Luis and Pepita come back +resolved never again to leave the village, though their lives should be +longer than were those of Philemon and Baucis. They are more in love +with each other than ever.</p> + +<p>They have brought back with them articles of furniture, a great many +books, some pictures, and I know not how many other elegant trifles, +purchased in the countries through which they have traveled, and +principally in Paris, Rome, Florence, and Vienna.</p> + +<p>The affection they entertain for each other, and the tenderness and +cordiality with which they treat each other and every one else, have +exercised a beneficent influence on manners here; and the elegance and +good taste with which they are now completing the furnishing of their +house will go far to make exterior culture take root and spread.</p> + +<p>The people in Madrid say that in the country we are stupid and uncouth; +but they remain where they are, and never take the trouble to come and +reform our manners. On the contrary, no sooner does any one make his +appearance in the country who knows or is worth anything, or who thinks +he knows or is worth anything, than he makes every possible effort to +get away from it, and leaves the fields and provincial towns behind him. +Pepita and Luis pursue the opposite course, and I commend them for it +with my whole heart. They are gradually improving and beautifying their +surroundings, so as to make out of this secluded spot a paradise.</p> + +<p>Do not imagine, however, that the inclination of Pepita and Luis for +material well-being has cooled in the slightest degree their religious +feelings. The piety of both grows deeper every day; and in each new +pleasure or satisfaction which they enjoy, or which they can procure for +their fellow-beings, they see a new benefaction of Heaven, in which they +recognize fresh cause for gratitude. More than this, no pleasure or +satisfaction would be such, none would be of any worth, or substance, or +value in their eyes, were it not for the thought of higher things, and +for the firm belief they have in them.</p> + +<p>Luis, in the midst of his present happiness, never forgets the +dethronement of the ideal he had set up for himself. There are times +when his present life seems to him vulgar, selfish, and prosaic, +compared with the life of sacrifice, with the spiritual existence to +which he believed himself called in the first years of his youth. But +Pepita hastens, solicitous, to dispel his melancholy on such occasions; +and then Luis comprehends and acknowledges that it is possible for man +to serve God in every state and condition, and succeeds in reconciling +the lively faith and the love of God that fill his soul, with this +legitimate love of the earthly and perishable. But in the earthly and +perishable he beholds the divine principle, as it were, without which, +neither in the stars that stud the heavens, nor in the flowers and +fruits that beautify the fields, nor in the eyes of Pepita, nor in the +innocence and beauty of Periquito, would he behold anything lovely. The +greater world, all this magnificent fabric of the universe, he declares, +would without its all-seeing God seem to him sublime indeed, but without +order, or beauty, or purpose. And as for the lesser world, as we are +accustomed to call man, neither would he love it were it not for God; +and this, not because God commands him to love it, but because the +dignity of man, and his title to be loved, have their foundation in God +himself, who not only made the soul of man in his own likeness, but +ennobled also his body, making it the living temple of the Spirit, +holding communion with it by means of the sacrament, and exalting it to +the extreme of uniting with it his uncreate Word. In these and other +arguments, which I am unable to set forth here, Luis finds consolation. +He reconciles himself to having relinquished his purpose of leading a +life devoted to pious meditations, ecstatic contemplation, and apostolic +works, and ceases to feel the sort of generous envy with which the +father vicar inspired him on the day of his death; but both he and +Pepita continue to give thanks, with great Christian devoutness, for +the benefits they enjoy, comprehending that not to their own merit do +they owe these benefits, but only to the goodness of God.</p> + +<p>And so my children have in their house a couple of apartments resembling +beautiful little Catholic chapels or oratories: but I must confess that +these chapels have, too, their trace of paganism—an +amorous-pastoral-poetic and Arcadian air, which is to be seen only +beyond city walls.</p> + +<p>The orchard of Pepita is no longer an orchard, but a most enchanting +garden, with its <i>araucarias</i>, its Indian fig-trees, that grow here in +the open air, and its well-arranged though small hot-house, full of rare +plants.</p> + +<p>The dining-room in which we ate the strawberries on the afternoon on +which Pepita and Luis saw and spoke with each other for the second time +has been transformed into a graceful temple, with portico and columns of +white marble. Within is a spacious apartment, comfortably furnished, and +adorned by two beautiful pictures. One represents Psyche, discovering, +by the light of her lamp, Cupid asleep on his couch; the other +represents Chloe, when the fugitive grasshopper has taken refuge in her +bosom, where, believing itself secure, it begins to chirp in the +pleasant hiding-place from which Daphne tries, meanwhile, to take it +forth.</p> + +<p>A very good copy, in Carrara marble, of the Venus de' Medici occupies +the most prominent place in the apartment, and, as it were, presides +over it. On the pedestal are engraved, in letters of gold, these words +of Lucretius:</p> + +<p class="poem"> +"<i>Nec sine te quidquam dias in luminis oras<br /> +Exoritur, neque fit lætum, neque amabile quidquam.</i>"<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="top15">THE END.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p class="c">PEPITA XIMENEZ.</p> + +<p class="c">From the Spanish of JUAN VALERA,</p> + +<p class="c"><span class="smcap">With an Introduction by the Author written specially for this edition.</span></p> + + +<p>"Pepita Ximenez," by Señor Don Juan Valera, recently Spanish Minister to +the Government of the United States, is the most successful of recent +novels in Spain, having attained a large number of editions in that +country, and been translated into German, French, Italian, and Bohemian. +Señor Valera is recognized as the most prominent literary man of the +time in Spain. A large number of volumes have come from his pen, all of +which enjoy a great popularity in the author's native land. The present +translation is authorized by Señor Valera, who is admitted by the +publishers to all the rights of a native author.</p> + +<p class="c"><b>12mo, paper cover. Price, 50 cents.</b></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c">ALIETTE</p> + +<p class="c">(La Morte).</p> + +<p class="c">From the French of OCTAVE FEUILLET,</p> + +<p class="c">Author of "The Romance of a Poor Young Man," etc., etc.</p> + +<p class="c"><i>From the London Athenæum.</i></p> + +<p>"Not often has a representative of the past in literature obtained a +more decided success over his younger rivals than M. Octave Feuillet has +obtained with 'La Morte.' Of the popularity of the book it is enough to +say that the fiftieth edition was advertised in Paris within two or +three weeks of publication. The important thing is not that 'La Morte' +has commanded so much success, but that it has deserved it. The story is +that of a hero who has two wives—the first an angel, and the second +something quite different from an angel. The first has been brought up +in the straitest sect of Catholics, the second has been educated to +science, and nothing but science. Of course, in this mere contrast there +is nothing very striking or original. But in the way in which M. +Feuillet has linked the fortunes of Bernard de Vaudricourt to the two, +in the gradual increase of the interest and of the tragic force of the +situation, and, lastly, in the writing itself, there is merit of a most +unusual kind."</p> + +<p class="c"><b>12mo, paper cover, 50 cents; half bound, 75 cents.</b></p> + +<p class="c">New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 3, and 6 Bond Street.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c"><i>A BRILLIANT NEW AMERICAN NOVEL</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c">A CONVENTIONAL BOHEMIAN.</p> + +<p class="c">A NOVEL. By <span class="smcap">Edmund Pendleton.</span> 12mo. Cloth, $1,25.</p> + + +<p>"A Conventional Bohemian" is a society novel, the greater part of the +action taking place at summer cottages on the shores of New England. The +plot of the story is simple, the action direct, the movement often +dramatic. Although a society novel, it reaches at times the heights of +passion, and reveals a remarkable knowledge of the motives and conflicts +of the human heart. The style is noticeable for epigrammatic wit and +wisdom in the lighter scene, and for dramatic power in the serious ones. +There are a number of well-drawn characters, the heroine being a +peculiarly felicitous study, and the hero a virile and striking +portrait. It is a novel sure of many admirers among those who delight in +intellectual subtlety and artistic execution.</p> + +<hr /> +<p class="c"><i>"A POWERFUL, WELL-CONSTRUCTED STORY."</i></p> + +<p class="c">THE ALIENS.</p> + +<p class="c">A NOVEL. By <span class="smcap">Henry F. Keenan,</span> author of "Trajan," etc. 12mo. Cloth, +$1.25.</p> + +<p>"The Aliens" is a stirring, picturesque romance, depicting life and +character in strong contrasts, and marked by an affluent and vivid +style. The scene of the story is laid in the western part of the State +of New York, about fifty years ago—the events coming down to the time +of the Mexican War.</p> + +<p>"He colors richly, warmly, and with the dash of an artist; ... and his +characters grow, and are not manufactured; ... the freshest and most +readable American novel of the season."—<i>Philadelphia Bulletin</i>.</p> + +<p>"The prevailing merit of the story is the vivid sense of reality which +the writer gives to scenes and characters; ... above all things, +interesting."—<i>Rochester Post-Express.</i></p> + +<p>"Not second to 'Trajan' in character-painting, felicity of diction, +well-managed conversations, pathos, and humor."—<i>Journal of Commerce.</i></p> + +<p>"Thoroughly interesting in plot, and told with equal skill and +animation."—<i>Boston Gazette</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c">THE NEW TWENTY-FIVE CENT SERIES.</p> + +<hr /> +<p> +THE SECRET OF HER LIFE. By <span class="smcap">Edward Jenkins</span>, author<br /> +of "Ginx's Baby," etc.<br /> +<br /> +FOR MAIMIE'S SAKE. By <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span>, author of "Babylon,"<br /> +etc.<br /> +<br /> +THE MASTER OF THE MINE. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Robert<br /> +Buchanan</span>.<br /> +<br /> +THE RABBI'S SPELL. A Russo-Jewish Romance. By <span class="smcap">Stuart<br /> +C. Cumberland</span>.<br /> +<br /> +A DARK HOUSE. A Knot Unravelled. By <span class="smcap">G. Manville Fenn</span>.<br /> +<br /> +A VAGRANT WIFE. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Florence Warden</span>, author<br /> +of "The House on the Marsh," "A Prince of Darkness," etc., etc.<br /> +<br /> +A PRINCE OF DARKNESS. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Florence Warden</span>,<br /> +author of "The House on the Marsh," etc.<br /> +<br /> +STRUCK DOWN. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Hawley Smart</span>, author of "A Race<br /> +for a Wife," etc.<br /> +<br /> +THE MAURICE MYSTERY. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">J. Esten Cooke</span>,<br /> +author of "The Virginia Comedians," etc.<br /> +<br /> +A NEMESIS; or, Tinted Vapors. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">J. Maclaren<br /> +Cobban</span>, author of "The Cure of Souls."<br /> +<br /> +THE TINTED VENUS. A Farcical Romance. By <span class="smcap">F. Anstey</span>,<br /> +author of "Vice Versa," "The Giant's Robe," etc.<br /> +<br /> +THE WITCH'S HEAD. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">H. R. Haggard</span>.<br /> +<br /> +MATT: A Tale of a Caravan. By <span class="smcap">Robert Buchanan</span>.<br /> +<br /> +ADDIE'S HUSBAND. A Novel.<br /> +<br /> +THE CRIME OF CHRISTMAS-DAY. A Tale of the<br /> +Latin Quarter. By the author of "My Ducats and my Daughter."<br /> +<br /> +DELDEE; or, The Iron Hand. A Novel. By the author of "The<br /> +House on the Marsh" and "At the World's Mercy."<br /> +<br /> +AT THE WORLD'S MERCY. A Novel. By the author of<br /> +"The House on the Marsh."<br /> +<br /> +THE HOUSE ON THE MARSH. A Romance.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="c"><i>12mo, paper covers. Price, 25 cents each,</i></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 30236 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f18829 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #30236 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/30236) diff --git a/old/30236-8.txt b/old/30236-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d905aa9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/30236-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7202 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Pepita Ximenez, by Juan Valera + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pepita Ximenez + +Author: Juan Valera + +Release Date: October 12, 2009 [EBook #30236] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEPITA XIMENEZ *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at DP Europe (http://dp.rastko.net) + + + + + + + + + +PEPITA XIMENEZ + +FROM THE SPANISH OF +JUAN VALERA + +_WITH AN INTRODUCTION_ +BY THE AUTHOR +WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THIS EDITION + +NEW YORK +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1886 + +COPYRIGHT, 1886, +BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. + + + + +AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. + + +_To the Messrs. Appleton._ + +GENTLEMEN: It was my intention to write a preface for the purpose of +authorizing the edition you are about to publish in English of "Pepita +Ximenez"; but, on thinking the matter over, I was deterred by the +recollection of an anecdote that I heard in my young days. + +A certain gallant, wishing to be presented at the house of a rich man +who was about to give a magnificent ball, availed himself for that +purpose of the services of a friend, who boasted of his familiarity with +the great man, and of the favor he enjoyed with him. They proceeded to +the great man's house, and the gallant got his introduction; but the +great man said to him who had introduced the other, "And you, who is to +introduce you, for I am not acquainted with you?" As I entertain a +profound respect and affection for this country, and have not, besides, +the assurance that such an occasion would require, it would not do for +me to say what the _introducer_ of my story is said to have answered, +"I need no one to introduce or to recommend me, for I am just now going +away." + +I infer from my story, as its evident moral, that I ought to refrain +from addressing the public of the United States, to which I am entirely +unknown as an author, notwithstanding the fact of my having maintained +pleasant and friendly relations with its Government as the +representative of my own. + +The most judicious and prudent course I can adopt, then, is to limit +myself to returning you earnest thanks for asking from me an +authorization of which you did not stand in need, either by law or by +treaty, for wishing to make known to your countrymen the least insipid +of the products of my unfruitful genius, and for your generous purpose +of conceding to me author's rights. + +This, however, does not preclude the fact that, in thus expressing my +thanks to you publicly, I incur a responsibility which I did not assume +on any other occasion, either in Germany, Italy, or any other country +where my works have been translated; for then, if they failed to please +the public, although the fact might pain me, I could still shrug my +shoulders, and throw the blame of failure on the translator, or the +publisher; but in this case I make myself your accomplice, and share, or +rather receive, all the disgrace of failure, if failure there should be. + +"Pepita Ximenez" has enjoyed a wide celebrity, not only in Spain, but in +every other Spanish-speaking country. I am very far from thinking that +we Spaniards of the present day are either more easily satisfied, less +cultured than, or possessed of an inferior literary taste to, the +inhabitants of any other region of the globe; but this does not suffice +to dispel my misgivings that my novel may be received with indifference +or with censure by a public somewhat prejudiced against Spain by +fanciful and injurious preconceptions. + +My novel, both in essence and form, is distinctively national and +classic. Its merit--supposing it to have such--consists in the language +and the style, and not in the incidents, which are of the most +commonplace, or in the plot, which, if it can be said to have any, is of +the simplest. + +The characters are not wanting, as I think, in individuality, or in such +truth to human nature as makes them seem like living beings; but, the +action being so slight, this is brought out and made manifest by means +of a subtile analysis, and by the language chosen to express the +emotions, both which may in the translation be lost. There is, besides, +in my novel a certain irony, good-humored and frank, and a certain +humor, resembling rather the humor of the English than the _esprit_ of +the French, which qualities, although happily they do not depend upon +puns, or a play upon words, but are in the subject itself, require, in +order that they may appear in the translation, that this should be made +with extreme care. + +In conclusion, the chief cause of the extraordinary favor with which +"Pepita Ximenez" was received in Spain is something that may fail to be +noticed here by careless readers. + +I am an advocate of art for art's sake. I think it in very bad taste, +always impertinent, and often pedantic, to attempt to prove theses by +writing stories. For such a purpose dissertations or books purely and +severely didactic should be written. The object of a novel should be to +charm, through a faithful representation of human actions and human +passions, and to create by this fidelity to nature a beautiful work. The +object of art is the creation of the beautiful, and whoever applies it +to any other end, of however great utility this end may be, debases it. +But it may chance, through a conjunction of favorable circumstances, by +a happy inspiration, because in a given moment everything is, disposed +as by enchantment, or by supernatural influences, that an author's soul +may become like a clear and magic mirror wherein are reflected all the +ideas and all the sentiments that animate the eclectic spirit of his +country, and in which these ideas and these sentiments lose their +discordance, and group and combine themselves in pleasing agreement and +harmony. + +Herein is the explanation of the interest of "Pepita Ximenez." It was +written when Spain was agitated to its center, and everything was thrown +out of its regular course by a radical revolution that at the same time +shook to their foundations the throne and religions unity. It was +written when everything in fusion, like molten metal, might readily +amalgamate, and be molded into new forms. It was written when the strife +raged fiercest between ancient and modern ideals; and, finally, it was +written in all the plenitude of my powers, when my soul was sanest and +most joyful in the possession of an enviable optimism and an +all-embracing love and sympathy for humanity that, to my misfortune, can +never again find place within my breast. + +If I had endeavored by dialectics and by reasoning to conciliate +opinions and beliefs, the disapprobation would have been general; but, +as the conciliating and syncretic spirit manifested itself naturally in +a diverting story, every one accepted and approved it, each one drawing +from my book the conclusions that best suited himself. Thus it was that, +from the most orthodox Jesuit father down to the most rabid +revolutionist, and from the ultra-Catholic who cherishes the dream of +restoring the Inquisition, to the rationalist who is the irreconcilable +enemy of every religion, all were pleased with "Pepita Ximenez." + +It would be curious, and not inopportune, to explain here how it came +about that I succeeded in pleasing every one without intending it, +without knowing it, and, as it were, by chance. + +There was in Spain, some years ago, a conservative minister who had sent +a godson of his to study philosophy in Germany. By rare good fortune +this godson, who was called Julián Sanz del Río, was a man of clear and +profound intelligence, of unwearied application, and endowed with all +the qualities necessary to make of him a sort of apostle. He studied, he +formulated his system, he obtained the chair of metaphysics in the +University of Madrid, and he founded a school, from which has since +issued a brilliant pleiad of philosophers and statesmen, and of men +illustrious for their learning, their eloquence, and their virtues. +Chief among them are Nicolás Salmerón, Francisco Giner, Gumersindo +Azcárate, Federico de Castro, and Urbano González Serrano. + +The clerical party soon began to stir up strife against the master, the +scholars, and the doctrines taught by them. They accused them of +mystical pantheism. + +I, who had ridiculed, at times, the confused terms, the pomp of words, +and the method which the new philosophers made use of, regarded these +philosophers, nevertheless, with admiration, and took up their +defense--an almost solitary champion--in periodicals and reviews. + +I had already maintained, before this, that our great dogmatic +theologians, and especially the celebrated Domingo de Soto, were more +liberal than the liberal rationalists of the present day, affirming, as +they do, the sovereignty of the people by divine right; for if, as St. +Paul declares, all authority proceeds from God, it does so through the +medium of the people whom God inspires to found it; and because the only +authority that proceeds directly from God is that of the Church. + +I then set myself to demonstrate that, if Sanz del Río and his followers +were pantheists, our mystical theologians of the sixteenth and +seventeenth centuries were pantheists also; and that, if the former had +for predecessors Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and Krause, St. Theresa, St. +John de la Cruz, and the inspired and ecstatic Father Miguel de la +Fuente followed, as their model, Tauler and others of the Germans. In +saying this, however, it was not my intention to deny the claims of any +of these mystical writers as founders of their school in Spain, but only +to recognize, in this unbroken transmission of doctrine, the progressive +continuity of European civilization. + +For the purpose of carrying forward my undertaking, I read and studied +with ardor every Spanish book on devotion, asceticism, and mysticism +that fell into my hands, growing every day more charmed with the +richness of our literature in such works; with the treasures of poetry +contained in them; with the boldness and independence of their authors; +with the profound and delicate observation, in which they excel the +Scotch school, that they display in examining the faculties of the soul; +and with their power of entering into themselves, of penetrating to the +very center of the mind, in order there to behold God, and to unite +themselves with God, not therefore losing their own personality, or +their capacity for an active life, but issuing from the ecstasies and +ravishments of divine love more apt than before for every work that can +benefit the human species, as the steel is more finely tempered, +polished, and bright after it has burned in the fires of the forge. + +Of all this, on its most poetic and easily understood side, I wished to +give a specimen to the Spanish public of to-day, who had forgotten it; +but, as I was a man of my epoch, a layman, not very exemplary as regards +penitential practices, and had the reputation of a freethinker, I did +not venture to undertake doing this in my own name, and I created a +theological student who should do it in his. I then fancied that I could +paint with more vividness the ideas and the feelings of this student by +contrasting them with an earthly love; and this was the origin of +"Pepita Ximenez." Thus, when it was farthest from my thoughts, did I +become a novelist. My novel had, therefore, the freshness and the +spontaneity of the unpremeditated. + +The novels I wrote afterward, with premeditation, are inferior to this +one. + +"Pepita Ximenez" pleased the public also, as I have said, by its +transcendentalism. + +The rationalists supposed that I had rejected the old ideals, as my hero +casts off the clerical garb. And the believers, with greater unanimity +and truth, compared me to the false prophet who went forth to curse the +people of Israel, and without intending it exalted and blessed them. +What is certain is that, if it be allowable to draw any conclusion from +a story, the inference that may be deduced from mine is, that faith in +an all-seeing and personal God, and in the lore of this God, who is +present in the depths of the soul, even when we refuse to follow the +higher vocation to which he would persuade and solicit us--even were we +carried away by the violence of mundane passions to commit, like Don +Luis, almost all the capital sins in a single day--elevates the soul, +purifies the other emotions, sustains human dignity, and lends poetry, +nobility, and holiness to the commonest state, condition, and manner of +life. + +Such is, in my opinion, the novel you are now about to present to the +American public; for I repeat that I have not the right to make the +presentation. + +Perhaps, independent of its transcendentalism, my novel may serve to +interest and amuse your public for a couple of hours, and may obtain +some favor with it; for it is a public that reads a great deal, that is +indulgent, and that differs from the English public--which is eminently +exclusive in its tastes--by its generous and cosmopolitan spirit. + +I have always regarded as a delusion of national vanity the belief that +there is, or the hope that there ever will be, anything that, with +legitimate and candid independence, may be called American literature. +Greece diffused herself throughout the world in nourishing colonies, +and, after the conquests of Alexander, founded powerful states in Egypt, +in Syria, and even in Bactriana, among peoples who, unlike the American +Indians, possessed a high civilization of their own. But, +notwithstanding this dispersion, and this political severance from the +mother-country, the literature of Syracuse, of Antioch, and of +Alexandria was as much Greek literature as was the literature of Athens. +In my opinion, then, and for the same reason, the literature of New York +and Boston will continue to be as much English literature as the +literature of London and Edinburgh; the literature of Mexico and Buenos +Ayres will continue to be as much Spanish literature as the literature +of Madrid; the literature of Rio Janeiro will be as much Portuguese +literature as the literature of Lisbon. Political union may be severed, +but, between peoples of the same tongue and the same race, the ties of +spiritual fraternity are indissoluble, so long as their common +civilization lasts. There are immortal kings or emperors who reign and +rule in America by true divine right, and against whom no Washington or +Bolivar shall prevail--no Franklin succeed in plucking from them their +scepter. These tyrants are called Miguel de Cervantes, William +Shakespeare, and Luiz de Camoëns. + +All this does not prevent the new nation from bringing to the common +fund, and _pro indiviso_, of the culture of their race, rich elements, +fine traits of character, and perhaps even higher qualities. Thus it is +that I observe, in this American literature, of English origin and +language, a certain largeness of views, a certain cosmopolitanism and +affectionate comprehension of what is foreign, broad as the continent +itself which the Americans inhabit, and which forms a contrast to the +narrow exclusivism of the insular English. It is because of these +qualities that I venture to hope now for a favorable reception of my +little book; and it is in these qualities that I found my hope that the +fruits of Spanish genius in general will, in future, be better known and +more highly esteemed here than in Great Britain. + +Already, to some extent, Irving, Prescott, Ticknor, Longfellow, Howells, +and others have contributed, with judgment and discretion, translating, +criticising, and eulogizing our authors, to the realization of this +hope. + +Forgive my wearying you with this long letter, and believe me to be +sincerely yours, + +JUAN VALERA. + +NEW YORK, _April 18, 1886._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + + PAGE + +LETTER OF THE AUTHOR iii + +PEPITA XIMENEZ 1 + +I--LETTERS OF MY NEPHEW 4 + +II.--PARALIPOMENA 129 + +III.--EPILOGUE. (LETTERS OF MY BROTHER) 263 + + + + +PEPITA XIMENEZ + +"_Nescit labi virtus._" + + +The reverend Dean of the Cathedral of ------, deceased a few years since, +left among his papers a bundle of manuscript, tied together, which, +passing from hand to hand, finally fell into mine, without, by some +strange chance, having lost a single one of the documents contained in +it. Inscribed on this manuscript were the Latin words I use above as a +motto, but without the addition of the woman's name I now prefix to it +as its title; and this inscription has probably contributed to the +preservation of the papers, since, thinking them, no doubt, to be +sermons, or other theological matter, no one before me had made any +attempt to untie the string of the package, or to read a single page of +it. + +The manuscript is in three parts. The first is entitled "Letters from my +Nephew"; the second, "Paralipomena"; and the third, "Epilogue--Letters +from my Brother." + +All three are in the same handwriting, which, it may be inferred, is +that of the reverend dean; and, as taken together they form something +like a novel, I at first thought that perhaps the reverend dean wished +to exercise his genius in composing one in his leisure hours; but, +looking at the matter more closely, and observing the natural simplicity +of the style, I am inclined to think now that it is no novel at all, but +that the letters are copies of genuine epistles which the reverend dean +tore up, burned, or returned to their owners, and that the narrative +part only, designated by the biblical title of "Paralipomena," is the +work of the reverend dean, added for the purpose of completing the story +with incidents not related in the letters. + +However this may be, I confess that I did not find the reading of these +papers tiresome; I found them, indeed, rather interesting than +otherwise; and as nowadays everything is published, I have decided to +publish them too, without further investigation, changing only the +proper names, so that if those who bear them be still living they may +not find themselves figuring in a book without desiring or consenting to +it. + +The letters contained in the first part seem to have been written by a +very young man, with some theoretical but no practical knowledge of the +world, whose life was passed in the house of the reverend dean, his +uncle, and in the seminary, and who was imbued with an exalted religious +fervor and an earnest desire to be a priest. + +We shall call this young man Don Luis de Vargas. + +The aforesaid manuscript, faithfully transferred to print, is as +follows. + + + + +I. + +LETTERS FROM MY NEPHEW. + + +_March 22d._ + +DEAR UNCLE AND VENERABLE MASTER: + +Four days ago I arrived in safety at this my native village, where I +found my father, the reverend vicar, our friends and relations all in +good health. The happiness of seeing them and conversing with them has +so completely occupied my time and thoughts, that I have not been able +to write to you until now. + +You will pardon me for this. + +Having left this place a mere child, and coming back a man, the +impression produced upon me by all those objects that I had treasured up +in my memory is a singular one. Everything appears to me more +diminutive, much more diminutive, but also more pleasing to the eye, +than my recollection of it. My father's house, which in my imagination +was immense, is, indeed, the large house of a rich husbandman, but still +much smaller than the seminary. What I now understand and appreciate +better than formerly is the country around here. The orchards, above +all, are delightful. What charming paths there are through them! On one +side, and sometimes on both, crystal waters flow with a pleasant murmur. +The banks of these streams are covered with odorous herbs and flowers of +a thousand different hues. In a few minutes one may gather a large bunch +of violets. The paths are shaded by majestic trees, chiefly walnut and +fig trees; and the hedges are formed of blackberry-bushes, roses, +pomegranates, and honeysuckle. + +The multitude of birds that enliven grove and field is marvelous. + +I am enchanted with the orchards, and I spend a couple of hours walking +in them every afternoon. + +My father wishes to take me to see his olive-plantations, his vineyards, +his farm-houses; but of all this we have as yet seen nothing. I have not +been outside of the village and the charming orchards that surround it. + +It is true, indeed, that the numerous visits I receive do not leave me a +moment to myself. + +Five different women have come to see me, all of whom were my nurses, +and have embraced and kissed me. + +Every one calls me Luisito, or Don Pedro's boy, although I have passed +my twenty-second birthday; and every one inquires of my father for _the +boy_, when I am not present. + +I imagine I shall make but little use of the books I have brought with +me to read, as I am not left alone for a single instant. + +The dignity of squire, which I supposed to be a matter for jest, is, on +the contrary, a serious matter. My father is the squire of the village. + +There is hardly any one here who can understand what they call my +caprice of entering the priesthood, and these good people tell me, with +rustic candor, that I ought to throw aside the clerical garb; that to be +a priest is very well for a poor young man, but that I, who am to be a +rich man's heir, should marry, and console the old age of my father by +giving him half a dozen handsome and robust grandchildren. + +In order to flatter my father and myself, both men and women declare +that I am a splendid fellow, that I am of an angelic disposition, that I +have a very roguish pair of eyes, and other stupid things of a like kind +that annoy, disgust, and humiliate me, although I am not very modest, +and am too well acquainted with the meanness and folly of the world to +be shocked or frightened at anything. + +The only defect they find in me is that I am too thin through +over-study. In order to have me grow fat they propose not to allow me +either to study or even to look at a book while I remain here; and, +besides this, to make me eat of as many choice dishes of meats and +confectionery as they know how to concoct in the village. + +It is quite clear--I am to be stall-fed. There is not a single family of +our acquaintance that has not sent me some token of regard. Now it is a +sponge-cake, now a meat-salad, now a pyramid of sweetmeats, now a jug of +sirup. + +And these presents which they send to the house are not the only +attentions they show me. I have also been invited to dinner by three or +four of the principal persons of the village. + +To-morrow I am to dine at the house of the famous Pepita Ximenez, of +whom you have doubtless heard. No one here is ignorant of the fact that +my father is paying her his addresses. + +My father, notwithstanding his fifty-five years, is so well preserved +that the finest young men of the village might feel envious of him. He +possesses, besides, the powerful attraction, irresistible to some women, +of his past conquests, of his celebrity, of having been a sort of Don +Juan Tenorio. + +I have not yet made the acquaintance of Pepita Ximenez. Every one says +she is very beautiful. I suspect she will turn out to be a village +beauty, and somewhat rustic. From what I have heard of her I can not +quite decide whether, ethically speaking, she is good or bad; but I am +quite certain that she is possessed of great natural intelligence. +Pepita is about twenty years old and a widow; her married life lasted +only three years. She was the daughter of Doña Francisca Galvez, the +widow, as you know, of a retired captain + + "Who left her at his death, + As sole inheritance, his honorable sword," + +as the poet says. Until her sixteenth year Pepita lived with her mother +in very straitened circumstances--bordering, indeed, upon absolute want. + +She had an uncle called Don Gumersindo, the possessor of a small +entailed estate, one of those petty estates that, in olden times, owed +their foundation to a foolish vanity. Any ordinary person, with the +income derived from this estate, would have lived in continual +difficulties, burdened by debts, and altogether cut off from the display +and ceremony proper to his rank. But Don Gumersindo was an extraordinary +person--the very genius of economy. It could not be said of him that he +created wealth himself, but he was endowed with a wonderful faculty of +absorption with respect to the wealth of others; and, in regard to +dispensing, it would be difficult to find any one on the face of the +globe with whose maintenance, preservation, and comfort, Mother Nature +and human industry ever had less reason to trouble themselves. No one +knows how he lived; but the fact is that he reached the age of eighty +years, saving his entire income, and adding to his capital by lending +money on unquestionable security. No one here speaks of him as a usurer; +on the contrary, he is considered to have been of a charitable +disposition, because, being moderate in all things, he was so even in +usury; and would ask only ten per cent a year, while throughout the +district they ask twenty and even thirty per cent, and still think it +little. + +In the practice of this species of industry and economy, and with +thoughts dwelling constantly on increasing instead of diminishing his +capital, indulging neither in the luxury of matrimony and of having a +family, nor even of smoking, Don Gumersindo arrived at the age I have +mentioned, the possessor of a fortune considerable anywhere, and here +regarded as enormous, thanks to the poverty of these villagers, and to +the habit of exaggeration natural to the Andalusians. + +Don Gumersindo, always extremely neat and clean in his person, was an +old man who did not inspire repugnance. + +The articles of his modest wardrobe were somewhat worn, but carefully +brushed, and without a stain; although from time immemorial he had +always been seen with the same cloak, the same jacket, and the same +trousers and waistcoat. People sometimes asked each other in vain if +any one had ever seen, him wear a new garment. + +With all these defects, which here and elsewhere many regard as virtues, +though virtues in excess, Don Gumersindo possessed excellent qualities; +he was affable, obliging, compassionate, and did his utmost to please +and to be of service to everybody, no matter what trouble, anxiety, or +fatigue it might cost him, provided only it did not cost him money. Of a +cheerful disposition, and fond of fun and joking, he was to be found at +every feast and merry-making around, that was not got up by +contribution, which he enlivened by the amenity of his manners, and by +his discreet although not very Attic conversation. He had never had any +tender inclination for any one woman in particular, but, innocently and +without malice, he loved them all; and was the most given to +complimenting the girls, and making them laugh, of any old man for ten +leagues around. + +I have already said that he was the uncle of Pepita. When he was nearing +his eightieth year, she was about to complete her sixteenth. He was +rich; she, poor and friendless. + +Her mother was a vulgar woman of limited intelligence and coarse +instincts. She worshiped her daughter, yet lamented continually and with +bitterness the sacrifices she made for her, the privations she +suffered, and the disconsolate old age and melancholy end that awaited +her in the midst of her poverty. She had, besides, a son, older than +Pepita, who had a well-deserved reputation in the village as a gambler +and a quarrelsome fellow, and for whom, after many difficulties, she had +succeeded in obtaining an insignificant employment in Havana; thus +finding herself rid of him, and with the sea between them. After he had +been a few years in Havana, however, he lost his situation on account of +his bad conduct, and thereupon began to shower letters upon his mother, +containing demands for money. The latter, who had scarcely enough for +herself and for Pepita, grew desperate at this, broke out into abuse, +cursed herself and her destiny with a perseverance but little resembling +the evangelical virtue, and ended by fixing all her hopes upon settling +her daughter well, as the only way of getting out of her difficulties. + +In this distressing situation Don Gumersindo began to frequent the house +of Pepita and her mother, and to pay attentions to the former with more +ardor and persistence than he had shown in his attentions to other +girls. Nevertheless, to suppose that a man who had passed his eightieth +year without wishing to marry, should think of committing such a folly, +with one foot already in the grave, was so wild and improbable a +notion, that Pepita's mother, still less Pepita herself, never for a +moment suspected the audacious intentions of Don Gumersindo. Thus it was +that both were struck, one day, with amazement, when, after a good many +compliments between jest and earnest, Don Gumersindo, with the greatest +seriousness and without the least hesitation, proposed the following +categorical question: + +"Pepita, will you marry me?" + +Although the question came at the end of a great deal of joking, and +might itself be taken for a joke, Pepita, who, inexperienced though she +was in worldly matters, yet knew by a certain instinct of divination +that is in all women, and especially in young girls, no matter how +innocent they may be, that this was said in earnest, grew as red as a +cherry and said nothing. Her mother answered in her stead: + +"Child, don't be ill-bred; answer your uncle as you should: 'With much +pleasure, uncle; whenever you wish.'" + +This "with much pleasure, uncle--whenever you wish," came then, it is +said, and many times afterward, almost mechanically from the trembling +lips of Pepita, in obedience to the admonitions, the sermons, the +complaints, and even the imperious mandate of her mother. + +I see, however, that I am enlarging too much on this matter of Pepita +Ximenez and her history; but she interests me, as I suppose she should +interest you too, since, if what they affirm here be true, she is to be +your sister-in-law and my step-mother. I shall endeavor, +notwithstanding, to avoid dwelling on details, and to relate briefly +what perhaps you already know, though you have been away from here so +long. + +Pepita Ximenez was married to Don Gumersindo. The tongue of slander was +let loose against her, both in the days preceding the wedding and for +some months afterward. + +In point of fact, ethically considered, this marriage was a matter that +will admit of discussion; but, so far as the girl herself is concerned, +if we remember her mother's prayers, her complaints, and even her +commands--if we take into consideration the fact that Pepita thought by +this means to procure for her mother a comfortable old age, and to save +her brother from dishonor and infamy, constituting herself his guardian +angel and his earthly providence, we must confess that our condemnation +will admit of some abatement. Besides, who shall penetrate into the +recesses of the heart, into the hidden secrets of the immature mind of a +young girl brought up, probably, in the most absolute seclusion and +ignorance of the world, in order to know what idea she might have formed +to herself of marriage? Perhaps she thought that to marry this old man +meant to devote her life to his service, to be his nurse, to soothe his +old age; to save him from a solitude and abandonment embittered by his +infirmities, and in which only mercenary hands should minister to him; +in a word, to cheer and illumine his declining years with the glowing +beams of her beauty and her youth, like an angel who has taken human +form. If something of this, or all of this, was what the girl thought, +and if she failed to perceive the full significance of her act, then its +morality is placed beyond question. + +However this may be, leaving aside psychological investigations that I +have no authority for making, since I am not acquainted with Pepita +Ximenez, it is quite certain that she lived in edifying harmony with the +old man during three years, that she nursed him and waited upon him with +admirable devotion, and that in his last painful and fatal sickness she +ministered to him and watched over him with tender and unwearying +affection, until he expired in her arms, leaving her heiress to a large +fortune. + +Although more than two years have passed since she lost her mother, and +more than a year and a half since she was left a widow, Pepita still +wears the deepest mourning. Her sedateness, her retired manner of +living, and her melancholy, are such that one might suppose she lamented +the death of her husband as much as though he had been a handsome young +man. Perhaps there are some who imagine or suspect that Pepita's pride, +and the certain knowledge she now has of the not very poetical means by +which she has become rich, trouble her conscience with something more +than doubt; and that, humiliated in her own eyes and in those of the +world, she seeks, in austerity and retirement, consolation for the +vexations of her mind, and balm for her wounded heart. + +People here, as everywhere, have a great love of money. Perhaps I am +wrong in saying, _as everywhere_; in populous cities, in the great +centers of civilization, there are other distinctions which are prized +as much as or even more than money, because they smooth the way to +fortune, and give credit and consideration in the eyes of the world; but +in smaller places, where neither literary nor scientific fame, nor, as a +rule, distinction of manners, nor elegance, nor discretion and amenity +in intercourse, are apt to be either valued or understood, there is no +other way by which to grade the social hierarchy than the possession of +more or less money, or of something worth money. Pepita, then, in the +possession of money, and beauty besides, and making a good use, as every +one says, of her riches, is to-day respected and esteemed in an +extraordinary degree. From this and the surrounding villages, the most +eligible suitors, the wealthiest young men, have crowded to pay their +court to her. But, so far as can be seen, she rejects them all, though +with the utmost sweetness, for she wishes to make no one her enemy; and +it is commonly supposed that her soul is filled with the most ardent +devotion, and that it is her fixed intention to dedicate her life to +practices of charity and religious piety. + +My father, according to the general opinion, has not succeeded better +than her other suitors; but Pepita, to fulfill the adage that "courtesy +and candor are consistent with each other," takes the greatest pains to +give him proofs of a frank, affectionate, and disinterested friendship. +She is unremitting in her attentions to him, and, when he tries to speak +to her of love, she brings him to a stop with a sermon delivered with +the most winning sweetness, recalling to his memory his past faults, and +endeavoring to undeceive him in regard to the world and its vain pomps. + +I confess that I begin to have some curiosity to know this woman, so +much do I hear her spoken of; nor do I think my curiosity is without +foundation, or that there is anything in it either vain or sinful. I +myself feel the truth of what Pepita says; I myself desire that my +father, in his advanced years, should enter upon a better life, should +forget, and not seek to renew the agitations and passions of his youth, +and should attain to the enjoyment of a tranquil, happy, and honorable +old age. I differ from Pepita's way of thinking in one thing only; I +believe my father would succeed in this rather by marrying a good and +worthy woman who loved him, than by remaining single. For this very +reason I desire to become acquainted with Pepita, in order to know if +she be this woman; for I am to a certain extent troubled--and perhaps +there is in this feeling something of family pride, which, if it be +wrong, I desire to divest myself of--by the disdain, however honeyed and +gracious, of the young widow. + +If my situation were other than it is, I should prefer my father to +remain unmarried. Then, being the only child, I should inherit all his +wealth, and, as one might say, nothing less than the position of squire +of the village. But you already know how firm is the resolution I have +taken. Humble and unworthy though I be, I feel myself called to the +priesthood, and the possessions of this world have but little power over +my mind. If there is anything in me of the ardor of youth, and the +vehemence of the passions proper to that age, it shall all be employed +in nourishing an active and fecund charity. Even the many books you have +given me to read, and my knowledge of the history of the ancient +civilizations of the peoples of Asia, contribute to unite within me +scientific curiosity with the desire of propagating the faith, and +invite and animate me to go forth as a missionary to the far East. As +soon as I leave this village, where you, my dear uncle, have sent me to +pass some time with my father, and am raised to the dignity of the +priesthood, and, ignorant and sinner as I am, feel myself invested, by +free and supernatural gift through the sovereign goodness of the Most +High, with the power to absolve from sin, and with the mission to teach +the peoples, as soon as I receive the perpetual and miraculous grace of +handling with impure hands the very God made man, it is my purpose to +leave Spain, and go forth to distant lands to preach the gospel. + +I am not actuated in this by any species of vanity. I do not desire to +believe myself superior to other men. The power of my faith, the +constancy of which I feel myself capable, everything after the favor and +grace of God, I owe to the judicious education, to the holy teaching, +and to the good example I have received from you, my dear uncle. + +There is something I hardly dare confess to myself, but which, against +my will, presents itself with frequency to my mind; and, since it +presents itself to my mind, it is my desire, it is my duty to confess it +to you: it would be wrong for me to hide from you even my most secret +and involuntary thoughts. You have taught me to analyze the feelings of +the soul; to search for their origin, if it be good or evil; to make, in +short, a scrupulous examination of conscience. + +I have often reflected on two different methods of education: that of +those who endeavor to keep the mind in innocence, confounding innocence +with ignorance, and believing evil that is unknown to be avoided more +easily than evil that is known; and that of those, on the other hand, +who courageously, and as soon as the pupil has arrived at the age of +reason, show him, with due regard for modesty, evil in all its hideous +ugliness and repulsive nakedness, to the end that he may abhor and avoid +it. According to my way of thinking, it is necessary to know evil in +order the better to comprehend the infinite divine goodness, the ideal +and unattainable end of every virtuously born desire. I am grateful to +you that you have made me to know, with the honey and the oil of your +teaching, as the Scripture says, both good and evil, to the end that I +should aspire to the one and condemn the other, knowingly and with +discreet ardor. I rejoice that I am no longer in a state of mere +innocence, and that I shall go forward in the progress toward virtue, +and, in so far as is permitted to humanity, toward perfection, with a +knowledge of all the tribulations, all the asperities that there are in +the pilgrimage we are called upon to make through this valley of tears; +as I am not ignorant, on the other hand, of how smooth, how easy, how +pleasant, how flowery, the road is, in appearance, that leads to +perdition and eternal death. + +Another thing for which I feel bound to be grateful to you is the +indulgence, the toleration, not condescending nor lax, but, on the +contrary, grave and severe, with which you have been able to inspire me +for the errors and the sins of my fellow-men. + +I say all this to you because I wish to speak to you on a subject of so +delicate a nature that I hardly find words in which to express myself +concerning it. In short, I often ask myself whether the resolution I +have adopted had not its origin, in part at least, in the character of +my relations with my father. In the bottom of my heart have I been able +to pardon him his conduct toward my poor mother, the victim of his +errors? + +I consider this matter carefully, and I can not find an atom of hatred +in my breast. On the contrary, gratitude fills it entirely. My father +has brought me up affectionately. He has tried to honor in me the memory +of my mother, and one would have said that in my bringing up, in the +care he took of me, in the indulgence with which he treated me, in his +devotion to me as a child, he sought to appease her angry shade--if the +shade, if the spirit of her who was on earth an angel of goodness and +gentleness, could be capable of anger. I repeat, then, that I am full of +gratitude toward my father; he has acknowledged me, and, besides, he +sent me at the age of ten years to you, to whom I owe all that I am. + +If there is in my heart any germ of virtue, if there is in my mind any +element of knowledge, if there is in my will any honorable and good +purpose, to you it is I owe it. + +My father's affection for me is extraordinary; the estimation in which +he holds me is far superior to my merits. Perhaps, vanity may have +something to do with this. In paternal love there is something selfish; +it is, as it were, a prolongation of selfishness. If I were possessed of +any merit, my father would regard it all as a creation of his own, as if +I were an emanation of his personality, as much in spirit as in body. Be +this as it will, however, I believe that my father loves me, and that +there is in his affection something self-sustaining, and superior to all +this pardonable selfishness of which I have spoken. + +I experience a great consolation, a profound tranquillity of +conscience--and for this I return most fervent thanks to God--when I +take cognizance of the fact that the power of blood, the tie of nature, +that mysterious bond that unites us, leads me, without any +consideration of duty, to love my father and to reverence him. It would +be horrible not to love him thus--to be compelled to force myself to +love in order to obey a divine command. Nevertheless--and here comes +back my doubt--does my purpose of becoming a priest or a friar, of not +accepting, or of accepting only a very small part of the immense fortune +that will be mine by inheritance, and which I might enjoy even during my +father's lifetime, does this proceed solely from my contempt of the +things of this world, from a true vocation for a religious life, or does +it not also proceed from pride, from hidden rancor, from resentment, +from something in me that refuses to forgive what my mother herself, +with sublime generosity, forgave? This doubt assails and torments me at +times, but almost always I resolve it in my favor, and come to the +conclusion that I have no feeling of pride toward my father: I think I +would accept from him all he has, if I were to need it, and I rejoice to +be as grateful to him for little as for much. + +Farewell, uncle; in future I will write to you often, and as much at +length as you recommend me, if not quite so much so as to-day, lest I +should appear prolix. + +_March 28th._ + +I begin to be tired of my stay in this place, and every day the desire +grows stronger within me to return to you and to receive my ordination; +but my father wishes to accompany me, he wishes to be present at that +solemn ceremony, and desires that I should remain here with him at least +two months longer. He is so amiable, so affectionate with me, that it +would be impossible for me not to gratify him in all his wishes. I shall +remain here, therefore, for the time he desires. In order to give him +pleasure I do violence to my feelings, and make an effort to seem +interested in the amusements of the village, the country sports, and +even shooting, in all of which I am his companion. I try to appear gayer +and more animated than I am by nature. As, in the village, half in jest, +half by way of eulogy, I am called the saint, I endeavor, through +modesty, to avoid the appearance of sanctity, or to soften and humanize +its manifestations with the virtue of moderation, displaying a serene +and decent cheerfulness which was never yet opposed to holiness nor to +the saints. I confess, nevertheless, that the merry-making and the +sports of these people, with their coarse jokes and boisterous mirth, +weary me. I do not want to fall into the sin of scandal, nor to speak +ill of any one, though it be only to you and in confidence, but I often +think that it would be a more difficult enterprise, as well as a more +rational and meritorious one, to preach the gospel to these people, and +try to elevate their moral nature, than to go to India, Persia, or +China, leaving so many of my country-people behind, who are, if not +perverted, at least to some extent gone astray. Many, indeed, are of the +opinion that modern ideas, that materialism and infidelity, are to blame +for this; but if that be the case, if they it be that produce such evil +effects, then it must be in some strange, diabolical, and miraculous +manner, and not by natural means; since the fact is that here the people +read no books, either good or bad, so that I do not well see how they +can be perverted by any evil doctrines the books in fashion may contain. +Can these evil doctrines be in the air, like a miasma or an epidemic? +Perhaps--and I am sorry this thought, which I mention to you only, +should occur to me--perhaps the clergy themselves are in fault. Are +they, in Spain, equal to their mission? Do they go among the people, +teaching and preaching to them? Are they all capable of this? Have those +who consecrate themselves to a religious life and to the salvation of +souls a true vocation for their calling? Or is it only a means of +living, like any other, with this difference, that in our day only the +poorest, only those who are without expectations and without means, +devote themselves to it, for the very reason that this calling offers a +less brilliant prospect than any other? Be that as it may, the very +scarcity of virtuous and learned priests arouses all the more within me +the desire to be a priest. I would not willingly let self-love deceive +me. I recognize all my defects, but I feel within me a true vocation, +and many of those defects it may still be possible, with the divine +help, to correct. + +The dinner at the house of Pepita Ximenez, which I mentioned to you, +took place three days ago. As she leads so retired a life, I had not met +her before; she seemed to me, in truth, as beautiful as she is said to +be; and I noticed that her amiability with my father was such as to give +him reason to hope, at least judging superficially, that she will yield +to his wishes in the end, and accept his hand. + +As there is a possibility of her becoming my step-mother, I have +observed her with attention; she seems to me to be a remarkable woman, +whose moral qualities I am not able to determine with exactitude. There +is about her an air of calmness and serenity that may come either from +coldness of heart and spirit, with great self-control and power of +calculating effects, accompanied by little or no sensibility, or that +may, on the other hand, proceed from the tranquillity of her conscience +and the purity of her aspirations, united to the purpose of fulfilling +in this life the duties imposed upon her by society, while her hopes are +fixed meantime upon loftier things, as their proper goal. What is +certain is that, either because with this woman everything is the result +of calculation, without any effort to elevate her mind to a higher +sphere, or, it may be, because she blends in perfect harmony the prose +of daily life with the poetry of her illusions, there is nothing +discernible in her out of tone with her surroundings, although she +possesses a natural distinction of manner that elevates her above and +separates her from them all. She does not affect the dress of a +provincial, nor does she, on the other hand, follow blindly the fashions +of the city; she unites both these styles in her mode of dress in such a +manner as to appear like a lady, but still a lady country-born and +country-bred. She disguises to a great extent, as I think, the care she +takes of her person. There is nothing about her to betray the use of +cosmetics or the arts of the toilet. But the whiteness of her hands, the +color and polish of her nails, and the grace and neatness of her attire +denote a greater regard for such matters than might be looked for in one +who lives in a village, and who is said, besides, to despise the +vanities of this world, and to think only of heavenly things. + +Her house is exquisitely clean, and everything in it reveals the most +perfect order. The furniture is neither artistic nor elegant, nor is it, +on the other hand, either pretentious or in bad taste. To give a poetic +air to her surroundings, she keeps in the saloons and galleries, as well +as in the garden, a multitude of plants and flowers. There is not, +indeed, among them any rare plant or exotic, but her plants and flowers, +of the commonest species here, are tended with extraordinary care. + +Canaries in gilded cages enliven the whole house with their songs. Its +mistress, it is obvious, has need of living creatures on which to bestow +some of her affection; and besides several maid-servants that one would +suppose she had selected with care, since it can not be by mere chance +that they are all pretty, she has, after the fashion of old maids, +various animals to keep her company--a parrot, a little dog whose coat +is of the whitest, and two or three cats, so tame and sociable that they +jump up on one in the most friendly manner. + +At one end of the principal saloon is a species of oratory, whose chief +ornament is an _Infant Jesus_, carved in wood, with red and white cheeks +and blue eyes, and altogether quite handsome. The dress is of white +satin, with a blue cloak full of little golden stars; and the image is +completely covered with jewels and trinkets. The little altar on which +the figure is placed is adorned with flowers, and around it are set pots +of broom and laurel; and on the altar itself, which is furnished with +steps, a great many wax tapers are kept burning. When I behold all this +I know not what to think, but for the most part I am inclined to believe +that the widow loves herself above all things, and that it is for her +recreation, and for the purpose of furnishing her with occasions for the +effusion of this love, that she keeps the cats, the canaries, the +flowers, and even the _Infant Jesus_ itself, which, in her secret soul, +perhaps, does not occupy a place very much higher than the canaries and +the cats. + +It can not be denied that Pepita Ximenez is possessed of discretion. No +silly jest, no impertinent question in regard to my vocation, and, above +all, in regard to my approaching ordination, has crossed her lips. She +conversed with me on matters relating to the village, about agriculture, +the last crop of grapes and olives, and the means of improving the +methods of making wine, expressing herself always with modesty and +naturalness, and without manifesting any desire of appearing to know +more than others. + +There were present at dinner the doctor, the notary, and the reverend +vicar, who is a great friend of the house, and the spiritual father of +Pepita. + +The reverend vicar must have a very high opinion of the latter, for on +several occasions he spoke to me apart of her charity, of the many alms +she bestows, of her compassion and goodness toward every one. In a word, +he declared her to be a saint. + +In view of what the vicar has told me, and relying on his judgment, I +can do no less than wish that my father may marry Pepita. As my father +is not fitted for a life of penance, in this way only could he hope to +change his mode of life, that up to the present has been so dissipated, +and settle down to a well-ordered and quiet, if not exemplary, old age. + +When we reached our house, after leaving that of Pepita Ximenez, my +father spoke to me seriously of his projects. He told me that in his +time he had been very wild, that he had led a very bad life, and that he +saw no way of reforming, notwithstanding his years, unless Pepita were +to fall in love with and marry him. + +Taking for granted, of course, that she would do so, my father then +spoke to me of business. He told me that he was very rich, and would +leave me amply provided for in his will, even though he should have +other children. I answered him that for my plans and purposes in life I +needed very little money, and that my greatest satisfaction would always +consist in knowing him to be happy with wife and children, his former +evil ways forgotten. My father then spoke to me of his tender hopes with +a candor and vivacity that might make one suppose me to be the father +and the old man, and he a youth of my age, or younger. In order to +enhance the merit of his mistress, and the difficulties of his conquest, +he recounted to me the accomplishments and the excellences of the +fifteen or twenty suitors who had already presented themselves to +Pepita, and who had all been rejected. As for himself, as he explained +to me, the same lot, to a certain extent, had been his also; but he +flattered himself that this want of success was not final, since Pepita +showed him so many kindnesses, and an affection so great that, if it +were not love, it might easily, with time, and the persistent homage he +dedicated to her, be converted into love. There was, besides, in my +father's opinion, a something fantastic and fallacious in the cause of +Pepita's coldness, that must in the end wear away. Pepita did not wish +to retire to a convent, nor did she incline to a penitential life. +Notwithstanding her seclusion and her piety, it was easy to see that she +took delight in pleasing. Her neatness and the exquisite care she took +of her person had in them little of the cenobite. The cause of her +coldness, then, my father declared to be, without a doubt, her pride--a +pride, to a certain extent, well founded. She is naturally elegant and +distinguished in appearance; both by her force of character and by her +intelligence she is superior to those who surround her, no matter how +she may seek, through modesty, to disguise it. How, then, should she +bestow her hand upon any of the rustics who, up to the present time, +have been her suitors? She imagines that her soul is filled with a +mystic love of God, and that God only can satisfy it, because thus far +no mortal has crossed her path intelligent enough and agreeable enough +to make her forget even her image of the _Infant Jesus_. "Although it +may seem to indicate a want of modesty on my part," added my father, "I +flatter myself with being such a one." + +Such, dear uncle, are the occupations and the projects of my father +here, and such the matters, so foreign to my nature, and to my aims and +thoughts, of which he speaks to me with frequency, and on which he +requires me to give an opinion. + +It would almost seem as if your too indulgent opinion of my judgment had +extended itself to the people here, for they all tell me their troubles, +and ask my advice as to the course they should adopt. Even the reverend +vicar, exposing himself to the risk of betraying what might be called +secrets of confession, has already come to consult me in regard to +several cases of conscience that have presented themselves to him in the +confessional. + +One of these cases, related, like all the others, with much mystery, and +without revealing the name of the person concerned, has greatly +interested me. + +The reverend vicar tells me that a certain penitent of his is troubled +by scruples of conscience, because, while she feels herself irresistibly +attracted toward a solitary and contemplative life, she yet fears at +times that this devout fervor is not accompanied by a true humility, but +that it is in part excited by, and has its source in, the demon of pride +himself. + +To love God in all things, to seek him in the inmost recesses of the +soul wherein he dwells, to purify ourselves from all earthly passions +and affections, in order to unite ourselves to him--these are, in truth, +pious aspirations and virtuous inclinations; but the doubt arises in +determining whether the source of these aspirations and inclinations be +not an exaggerated self-love. "Have they their origin," the penitent it +seems asks herself, "in the thought that I, although unworthy and a +sinner, presume my soul to be of more value than the souls of my +fellow-mortals?--that the interior beauty of my mind and of my will +would be dimmed by harboring affection for the human beings by whom I am +surrounded, and whom I deem unworthy of me? Do I love God above all +things, infinitely, or only more than the little things that I know, +and that I scorn and despise, that can not satisfy my heart? If my piety +is founded upon this feeling, then there are in it two great defects: +the first, that it is not based upon a pure love of God, full of +humility and charity, but on pride; and the second, that this piety, +because it is thus without foundation, is unstable and inefficacious. +For who can be certain that the soul will not forget the love of its +Creator, when it does not love him infinitely, but only because there is +no other being whom it deems worthy of endowing with its love?" + +It is concerning this case of conscience, refined and subtle enough thus +to exercise the mind of a simple rustic, that the reverend vicar has +come to consult me. I would have excused myself from saying anything in +the matter, alleging, as a reason for doing so, my youth and +inexperience; but the reverend vicar has shown himself so persistent in +the matter that I could do no less than discuss the question with him. I +said--and it would rejoice me greatly should you concur in my +opinion--that what this troubled penitent requires is to regard those +who surround her with greater benevolence; to try to throw over their +faults--instead of analyzing and dissecting them with the scalpel of +criticism--the mantle of charity, bringing into relief and dwelling upon +their good qualities, to the end that she may esteem and love them; to +endeavor, in fine, to behold in every human being an object worthy of +her love, a true fellow-creature, her equal, a soul wherein there is a +treasure of good qualities and virtues--a being made, in short, in the +image and likeness of God. Entertaining this exalted view of our +surroundings, loving and esteeming others for what they are, and as more +than they are, striving not to hold ourselves superior to them in +anything, but, on the contrary, searching courageously in the depths of +our own conscience for the purpose of discovering all our faults and +sins, and thus acquiring a devout humility and contempt of self, the +heart will feel itself full of human affection, and, instead of +despising, will value highly the worth of things and of persons, so that +if afterward divine love should, with irresistible power, erect itself +upon and tower above this foundation, there can then be no fear but that +such a love has its origin, not in an exaggerated self-esteem, in pride, +or in an unjust contempt for our neighbor, but in a pure and holy +contemplation of the Infinite Beauty and Goodness. + +If, as I suspect, it be Pepita Ximenez who has consulted the reverend +vicar in regard to these doubts and tribulations, I think my father can +not yet flatter himself with being very dear to her; but, if the vicar +should resolve on giving her my advice, and she accepts it and acts upon +it, then she will either become a sort of Maria de Agreda, a +self-conscious recluse, or, what is more probable, she will cast away +mysticism and coldness altogether, and will consent to accept, without +further caviling, the hand and heart of my father who is in no respect +her inferior. + +_April 4th._ + +My life in this place begins, from its monotony, to be wearisome; and +not because it is, physically, less active here than it was elsewhere, +for I walk and ride a great deal, and make excursions into the country, +and, to please my father, visit the club-house and go to parties, and +live, in short, in a state of dissatisfaction with myself and with my +surroundings. But my intellectual life is a blank; I read nothing, and +there is hardly a moment left me in which to reflect and meditate with +tranquillity; and, as reflection and meditation were what constituted +the chief charm of my existence, my life without them seems to me +monotonous. Thanks to the patience which you have recommended to me for +every occasion, I am able to endure it. + +Another thing that prevents my spirit from being completely at rest is +the longing, that becomes every day more ardent within me, to embrace +that life to which, without a moment's vacillation, I have been for +years inclined. It seems to me that, in those moments when I feel +myself so near to the realization of the constant dream of my life, it +is something like a profanation to allow my mind to be distracted by +other objects. So much does this idea torment me, and to so many doubts +does it give rise within me, that my admiration for the beauty of things +created--of the heavens so full of stars, in these serene nights of +spring, and in this favored region of Andalusia; of these smiling +fields, now covered with verdure, and of these cool and pleasant +gardens, abounding in shady and delightful walks, in gently flowing +streams and rivulets, in sequestered nooks, in birds that enliven them +with song, and in flowers and odorous herbs--this admiration and +enthusiasm, I repeat, which formerly seemed to me in perfect harmony +with the religious feeling that filled my soul, animating and exalting +it, instead of weakening it, seems to me now almost a sinful +distraction, and an unpardonable forgetfulness of the eternal for the +temporal, of the uncreated and the spiritual for the material and +created. Although I have made but little progress in virtue, although my +mind is never free from the phantasms of the imagination, although the +interior man is never exempt in me from the influence of external +impressions, and from the need of employing in meditation the fatiguing +argumentative method; although I can not, by an effort of love, withdraw +myself to the very center of pure intelligence, to the loftiest sphere +of thought, in order to behold there goodness and truth divested of +images and forms, yet I confess to you that the method of mental prayer, +unrestricted by set forms, makes me afraid. Even rational meditation +inspires me with distrust. I do not want to employ a process of +reasoning in order to know God, nor to adduce arguments for loving, in +order to love him. I desire, by a single effort of the will, to elevate +myself to and be absorbed in the divine contemplation. Oh, that I had +the wings of a dove, to fly to the bosom of him whom my soul loveth! But +what and where are my merits? Where the mortifications, the extended +prayers, and the fasting? What have I done, O my God, that thou shouldst +favor me? + +I know that the ungodly of the present day accuse--though without any +foundation whatever--our holy religion of inciting souls to abhor the +things of this world, to despise or to contemn nature, perhaps to fear +it also, as if there were in it something diabolical, placing all their +affections on what these ungodly call the monstrous egotism of divine +love, for it is herself, they say, the soul loves in loving God; I know, +too, that this is not the case; that the divine love is charity, and +that to love God is to love all things, for all things are in God, in a +supreme and ineffable manner. I know that I commit no sin in loving +material things for the love of God, which is to love them for +themselves, righteously; for what are material things but the +manifestation, the creation of the love of God? And, notwithstanding, I +know not what undefinable fear, what unwonted scruple, what vague and +scarcely perceptible remorse torments me now, when, as formerly, as in +other days of my youth, as in childhood itself, I feel an effusion of +tenderness, a sort of ecstasy of enthusiasm, on penetrating into some +leafy grove, on hearing the song of the nightingale, or the twittering +of the swallows, or the tender cooing of the dove; on looking at the +flowers, on beholding the stars. I imagine, at times, that there is in +all this something of sensual pleasure, a something that makes me +forget, for the moment at least, more lofty aspirations. I do not desire +that in me the spirit should sin against the flesh; but neither do I +desire, on the other hand, that the beauty of the material world--that +its delights, even those most delicate, subtle, and ethereal ones that +are perceived rather by the spirit than by the senses, such as the soft +sigh of the zephyr, laden with rural scents, the song of the birds, the +peaceful and majestic silence of the night in these gardens and +orchards--should distract me from the contemplation of higher beauty, or +weaken, even for a moment, my love toward Him who has created this +harmonious fabric of the world. + +I know that all these material things are like the letters of a book, +the signs and characters in which the soul, eager for knowledge, may +find a hidden meaning, and decipher and discover the beauty of God that, +though but dimly, is shadowed forth in them, and of which they are the +pictures or rather emblems, because they do not represent, but only +symbolize it. On this distinction I dwell at times to strengthen my +scruples and mortify the flesh. For, I consider, if I love the beauty of +earthly things as they are, it is idolatry; I ought to love this beauty +as a sign, as the symbol of a beauty occult and divine, and infinitely +superior to it in all things. + +A few days ago I completed my twenty-second year. Heretofore, my +religious fervor has been such that I have felt no other love than the +immaculate love of God himself and of his holy religion, which I desire +to diffuse and see triumphant in all the regions of the earth. I confess +that something of a profane sentiment has mingled itself with this +purity of affection. You are aware of this; I have told it to you many +times, and you, regarding me with your accustomed indulgence, have +answered me that man is not an angel, and that even to aspire to so +great a degree of perfection is pride; that I should endeavor to +moderate these sentiments rather than seek to eradicate them entirely. +Love of knowledge, a desire for the reputation which is founded on the +possession of knowledge, even a not unfavorable opinion of one's own +merits, these, even when kept within just bounds, though guarded and +moderated by Christian humility, and directed toward a good end, have in +them, doubtless, something of selfishness, but they may serve as a +stimulus and a support to the noblest and most constant resolutions. The +scruples that trouble my conscience now, therefore, have not their +source in pride, in an overweening self-confidence, in a desire for +worldly fame, or in a too great love of knowledge. Nothing of this +nature it is that troubles me; nothing bearing any relation to +self-conceit, but, in a certain sense, something entirely opposed to it. +I feel a lassitude, a debility and abandonment of the will so great--I +am so ready to weep for tenderness when I see a little flower, when I +contemplate the ray, mysterious, tenuous, and swift, of a remote +star--that it almost makes me afraid. + +Tell me what you think of these things; and if there be not something +morbid in this disposition of my mind. + +_April 8th._ + +The amusements of the country, in which, very much against my will, I am +compelled to take part, still go on. + +My father has taken me to see almost all his plantations, and he and his +friends are astonished to find me not altogether ignorant in matters +pertaining to the country. It would seem as if, in their eyes, the study +of theology, to which I have dedicated myself, were incompatible with a +familiarity with Nature. How much have they not wondered at my +knowledge, on seeing me discriminate, among the vines that have only +just begun to sprout, the common from the choice varieties! How much +have they not wondered, too, at my being able to distinguish, among the +young plants in the fields, the shoots of the barley from those of the +bean; at my being familiar with many fruit and shade trees; at my +knowing the names of many plants, even, that grow spontaneously in the +woods, as well as something of their properties and virtues! + +Pepita Ximenez, who has heard through my father of the delight I take in +the gardens here, has invited me to visit one that she owns at a short +distance from the village, and eat the early strawberries that grow +there. This caprice of Pepita's to show so many little attentions to my +father, while at the same time she declines his addresses, seems to me +at times to partake somewhat of coquetry, and to be worthy of +reprobation. But when next I see her, and find her so natural, so frank +and so simple, this bad opinion is dispelled, and I can not believe her +to have any other end in view than to maintain the friendly relations +that exist between her and our family. + +Be this as it may, yesterday afternoon we went to Pepita's garden. It is +charmingly situated, and as delightful and picturesque a place as one +can imagine. The river, that by means of innumerable drains waters +almost all these gardens, falls into a deep ravine, bordered on both +sides by white and black poplars, osiers, flowering oleanders, and other +leafy trees. The waterfall, clear and transparent, precipitates itself +into this ravine, sending up a cloud of spray, and then follows its +tortuous course by a channel formed for it by Nature herself, enameling +its banks with a thousand plants and flowers, and just now covering them +with a multitude of violets. The declivity at the end of the garden is +full of walnut, hazel, fig, and other fruit trees; and in the level +portion are beds planted with strawberries and vegetables, tomatoes, +potatoes, beans, and peppers. There is also a little flower-garden, with +a great abundance of flowers, of the kinds most commonly cultivated +here. Roses especially abound, and of these there are innumerable +varieties. The house of the gardener is prettier and cleaner than the +houses of its class that one is accustomed to see in this part of the +country; and near it there is another smaller building, dedicated to the +use of the mistress of the place, where Pepita regaled us with a +sumptuous collation. The pretext for this collation was the +strawberries, to eat which was the chief purpose of our visit. The +quantity of strawberries, considering the earliness of the season, was +astonishing. They were served with the milk of goats belonging also to +Pepita. + +There were present at this banquet the doctor, the notary, my aunt +Casilda, my father, and myself, and of course the indispensable vicar, +spiritual father, and, more than spiritual father, admirer and perpetual +eulogist of Pepita. + +By a sort of sybaritic refinement, it was not by the gardener, nor his +wife, nor the son of the gardener, nor by any other rustic, that we were +served at this banquet, but by two lovely girls, confidential servants, +in a manner, of Pepita's, dressed like peasants, but with the greatest +neatness and even elegance. They wore gowns of gay-colored percale, +short, and confined at the waist, and around their shoulders silk +handkerchiefs. Their lustrous and abundant black hair, without covering, +was braided and arranged in a knot behind; and in front they wore curls +confined to the head by large hair-pins, here called _caracols_. Above +the knot or _chignon_ they each displayed a bunch of fresh roses. + +Pepita's attire, except that it was black and of rich material, was +equally unpretending. Her merino gown, made in the same style as those +of her maids, without being short, was yet not long enough to catch the +dust of the ground. A modest handkerchief of black silk covered also, +according to the usage of the country, her shoulders and bosom; and on +her head she wore no other ornament, either flower or jewel, than that +of her own blonde tresses. + +The only particular, with respect to Pepita, in which I observed a +certain fastidiousness, and in which she departed from the customs of +the country-people, was in wearing gloves. It is evident that she takes +great care of her hands, and is, perhaps, to a certain extent, vain of +their beauty and whiteness, as well as of her rose-colored and polished +nails; but if this be so, it is to be pardoned to the weakness of the +flesh; and indeed, if I remember aright, I think that St. Theresa, in +her youth, had this same species of vanity, which did not prevent her, +however, from becoming a great saint. + +In truth, I can understand, even though I do not excuse, this little +piece of vanity. It is so distinguished, so aristocratic to possess a +beautiful hand! I even think, at times, that there is something +symbolic in it. The hand is the instrument by which we execute our +works, the sign of our nobility, the means by which the intellect gives +form and shape to its artistic conceptions, by which it gives reality to +the mandates of its will, by which it exercises the dominion that God +conceded to man over all other creatures. The rough, strong, sinewy, +horny hand, it may be, of a laborer, a workman, testifies nobly to this +dominion, but on its rudest and least intellectual side. The hands of +Pepita, on the contrary, transparent almost, like alabaster, but +rosy-hued, and in which one can almost see the pure and subtle blood +circulate that gives to the veins their faint, bluish tinge--these +hands, I say, with their tapering fingers, and unrivaled purity of +outline, seem the symbol of the magic power, the mysterious dominion, +that the human spirit holds and exercises, without the intervention of +material force, over all those visible things that are the creation of +God by a direct act of his will, and which man, as the instrument of +God, improves and completes. It would be impossible to suppose that any +one with hands like Pepita's should have an impure thought, a gross +desire, an unworthy purpose at variance with the purity of the hands +that would be called upon to put them into effect. + +It is unnecessary to say that my father appeared as much charmed with +Pepita, and she as attentive and affectionate toward him, as always; +though her affection seemed, perhaps, of a character more filial than he +could have wished. The fact is, that my father, notwithstanding the +reputation he has of being in general but little respectful or reverent +toward women, treats this one woman with such respect and consideration +that not even Amadis, in the most devoted period of his wooing, showed +greater toward Oriana. Not a single word that might shock the ear, no +indelicate or inopportune compliment, no coarse jest, of the kind the +Andalusians permit themselves so frequently to employ, does he ever +indulge in. Hardly does he dare say to Pepita, "What beautiful eyes you +have!" and, indeed, should he say so, he would only speak the truth, for +Pepita's eyes are large, green as those of Circe, expressive, and well +shaped. And what enhances their beauty is that she seems unaware of all +this, for there is not to be detected in her the slightest wish to +please or attract any one by the sweetness of her glances. One would say +she thought eyes were only made to see with, and for no other purpose; +the contrary of what I suppose to be the opinion, according to what I +have heard, of the greater number of young and pretty women, who use +their eyes as a weapon of offense, or as a sort of electric battery, by +means of which to subdue hearts and captivate them. Not like those, +indeed, are Pepita's eyes, wherein dwell a peace and a serenity as of +heaven. And yet it can not be said that there is anything of coldness in +their glance. Her eyes are full of charity and sweetness. They rest with +tenderness on a ray of light, on a flower, on the commonest object in +nature; but with greater tenderness still, with signs of a softer +feeling, more human and benign, do they rest on her fellow-man, without +his daring to imagine in that tranquil and serene glance, however young +or handsome or conceited he may be, anything more than charity and love +toward a fellow-man, or, at most, a friendly preference. + +I sometimes wonder if all this can be studied, and if Pepita be, in +truth, an accomplished actress; but the acting would be so perfect, and +so purposeless the play, that it seems to me, after all, impossible that +this should be the case. Nature herself it is, then, who serves as +teacher and as type for that glance and for those eyes. First, Pepita +loved her mother; then circumstances led her to love Don Gumersindo +through duty, as the companion of her existence; and then, doubtless, +all passion that any earthly object could inspire was extinguished in +her breast, and she loved God, and loved material objects for the love +of God; and so arrived at last at a peaceful and even enviable +condition of spirit, in which, if there be anything to censure, it is +perhaps a certain vanity of which she is herself unconscious. It is very +convenient to love in this mild fashion, without allowing ourselves to +be disturbed by our feelings, to have no passion to combat, to make of +our love and affection for others an addition to, and, as it were, the +complement of self-love. + +I ask myself at times if, when I censure this state of mind in Pepita, +it be not myself I censure. How do I know what passes in the soul of +this woman that I should censure her? Perhaps, in thinking I behold her +soul, it is my own soul that I behold. I never had nor have I now any +passion to conquer. All my virtuous inclinations, all my instincts, good +or bad, tend, thanks to your wise teachings, without obstacle or +impediment, to the furtherance of the one purpose. In the fulfillment of +this purpose, I should find not only my noble and disinterested desires, +but my selfish ones also, satisfied--my love of glory, my desire for +knowledge, my curiosity to see distant lands, my longing for name and +fame. All these are centered in the completing of the career upon which +I have entered. I fancy at times that, in this respect, I am more worthy +of censure than Pepita, supposing her even to be worthy of censure at +all. + +For, as regards myself, I have been invested with the lesser orders; I +have cast out from my soul the vanities of the world; I have received +the tonsure; I have consecrated myself to the service of the altar. Yet +I have a future full of ambition before me, and I dwell with pleasure on +the thought that this future is within my reach. I please myself in +thinking that the conditions I possess for it are real and efficacious; +though I call humility to my aid, at times, to save me from an +overweening self-confidence. + +To what, on the other hand, does this woman aspire, and what are her +hopes? I censure her for the care she takes of her hands, for regarding +her beauty, perhaps, with complacency; I almost censure her for her +neatness, for the attention she bestows on her dress; for a certain +indefinable coquetry there is in the very modesty and simplicity of her +attire. But what! must virtue be slovenly? Must holiness be unclean? Can +not a pure and clean soul rejoice in the cleanliness and purity of the +body also? Is there not something reprehensible in the displeasure with +which I regard the neatness and purity of Pepita? Is this displeasure, +perchance, because she is to be my step-mother? But, perhaps, she does +not wish to be my step-mother! Perhaps she does not love my father! It +is true, indeed, that women are incomprehensible. It may be that in her +secret heart she already feels inclined to return my father's +affection, and marry him, though, in accordance with the saying that +"what is worth much, costs much," she chooses first to torment him with +her affected coldness, to reduce him to unquestioning submission, to put +his constancy to the proof, and then means to end by quietly saying Yes. +We shall see. + +What there is no question about is, that our garden-party was decorously +merry. We talked of flowers, of fruit, of grafts, of planting, and of +innumerable other things relating to husbandry, Pepita displaying her +knowledge of agriculture in rivalry with my father, with myself, and +with the reverend vicar, who listens with open mouth to every word she +utters, and declares that in the seventy-odd years of his life, and +during his many wanderings, in the course of which he has traversed +almost the whole of Andalusia, he has never known a woman more discreet +or more judicious in all she thinks and says than she. + +On returning home from any of these excursions, I renew my entreaties to +my father to allow me to go back to you, in order that the wished-for +moment may at last arrive in which I shall see myself elevated to the +priesthood. But my father is so pleased to have me with him, he is so +happy here in the village, taking care of his plantations, exercising +the judicial and executive authority of squire, paying homage to Pepita, +and consulting her in everything as his Egeria, that he always finds, +and will find perhaps for months to come, some plausible pretext to keep +me here. Now he has to clarify the wine of I know not how many casks; +now he has to decant more wine still; now it is necessary to hoe around +the vines; now to plow the olive-groves and dig around the roots of the +olives; in fine, he keeps me here against my wishes--though I should not +say "against my wishes," for it gives me great pleasure to be with my +father, who is so good to me. + +The evil is, that, with this way of life, I fear I shall grow too +material. I am conscious in my devotions of a certain aridity of spirit. +My religious fervor diminishes; common life begins to penetrate, to +infiltrate itself into my nature; when I pray, I suffer distractions; in +my solitary meditations, when the soul should raise itself up to God, I +can no longer concentrate my thought as formerly. My sensibility of +heart, on the other hand, that refuses to occupy itself with any worthy +object, that does not employ and consume itself on its legitimate ends, +wells forth and, as it were, overflows, at times, for objects and under +circumstances that have something in them of puerile, that seem to me +ridiculous, of which I am ashamed. If I awaken in the silence of the +night and hear by chance some love-lorn rustic singing, to the sound of +his badly played guitar, a verse of a _fandango_ or a _rondeña_, neither +very discreet, nor very poetical, nor very delicate, I am wont to be +affected as if I were listening to some celestial melody; a feeling of +pity, childish and insensate, comes over me at times. The other day the +children of my father's overseer stole a nest full of young sparrows, +and on seeing the little birds, not yet fledged, torn thus violently +from their tender mother, I felt a sudden pang of anguish, and I confess +I could not restrain my tears. A few days before this, a peasant had +brought in from the fields a calf that had broken its leg; he was about +to carry it to the slaughter-house, and came to ask my father what part +of it he wished for his table. My father answered, the head and the +feet, and a few pounds of the flesh. I was touched by compassion on +seeing the calf, and, but that shame prevented me, would have bought it +from the man, in the hope of curing and keeping it alive. In fine, my +dear uncle, nothing less than the confidence I have with you would make +me recount to you these signs of an extravagant and restless emotion, so +that you may judge by them how necessary it is that I should return to +my former way of life, to my studies, to my lofty speculations, and be +at last elevated to the priesthood, in order to provide with its fit and +proper aliment the fire that consumes my soul. + +_April 14th._ + +I continue to lead the same life as usual, and am detained here still by +my father's entreaties. + +The greatest pleasure I enjoy, after that of being with him, is my +intercourse and conversation with the reverend vicar, with whom I am in +the habit of taking long walks. It seems incredible that a man of his +age--for he must be near eighty--should be so strong and active, and so +good a walker. I grow tired sooner than he; and there is no rough road, +no wild place, no rugged hill-top, in the neighborhood, where we have +not been. + +The reverend vicar is reconciling me, in a great degree, with the +Spanish clergy, whom I have stigmatized, at times, in speaking with you, +as but little enlightened. How much more to be admired, I often say to +myself, is this man, so full of candor and benevolence, so simple and +affectionate, than one who may have read many books, but in whose soul +the flame of charity burns less brightly than, fed by the purest and +sincerest faith, it does in his! Do not suppose from this that the +understanding of the reverend vicar is a limited one; his is a spirit +uncultured, indeed, but clear and sagacious. At times I fancy that the +good opinion I entertain of him may be due to the attention with which +he listens to me; but, if this be not the case, it seems to me that he +reasons on every subject with remarkable perspicacity, and that he knows +how to unite an ardent love of our holy religion with an appreciation of +all the good things that modern civilization has brought us. I am +charmed, above all, by the simplicity, the sobriety of sentiment, the +naturalness, in short, with which the reverend vicar performs the most +disagreeable works of charity. There is no misfortune he does not seek +to alleviate, no suffering he does not strive to console, no error he +does not endeavor to repair, no necessity which he does not hasten +solicitously to relieve. + +In all this, it must be confessed, he has a powerful auxiliary in +Pepita, whose piety and compassionate disposition he is always +extolling. + +This species of homage which the vicar pays to Pepita is founded upon, +and goes side by side with, the practice of a thousand good works--the +giving of alms, prayer, public worship, and the care of the poor. Pepita +not only gives alms for the poor, but also gives money for _novenas_, +sermons, and other observances of the Church. If the altars of the +parish are gay, at times, with beautiful flowers, these flowers are due +to the bounty of Pepita who has sent them from her garden. If Our Lady +of Sorrows, instead of her old worn cloak, wears to-day a resplendent +and magnificent mantle of black velvet, embroidered with silver, Pepita +it is who has paid for it. + +These, and other similar acts of beneficence, the vicar is always +extolling and magnifying. Thus it is, when I am not speaking of my own +aims, of my vocation, of my studies, to hear about which gives the +reverend vicar great delight, and keeps him hanging upon my words, when +it is he who speaks and I who listen, that, after a thousand turns, he +always ends by speaking of Pepita Ximenez. And of whom, indeed, should +the reverend vicar speak to me? His intercourse with the doctor, with +the apothecary, with the rich husbandmen of the place, hardly gives +motive for three words of conversation. As the reverend vicar possesses +the very rare quality, in one bred in the country, of not being fond of +scandal, or of meddling in other people's affairs, he has no one to +speak of but Pepita, whom he visits frequently, and with whom, as may be +gathered from what he says, he is in the habit of holding the most +familiar colloquies. + +I know not what books Pepita Ximenez has read, nor what education she +may have received; but, from what the reverend vicar says, it may be +deduced that she possesses a restless soul and an inquiring spirit, to +which a multiplicity of questions and problems present themselves that +she longs to elucidate and resolve, bringing them for that purpose +before the reverend vicar, whom she thus puts into a state of agreeable +perplexity. + +This man, educated in country fashion, a priest whose breviary is, as +one may say, his library, possesses an understanding open to the light +of truth, but is wanting in original power, and thus the problems and +questions Pepita presents to him open before him new horizons and new +paths, nebulous and vague indeed, and which he did not even imagine to +exist, which he is not able to follow with exactitude, but whose +vagueness, novelty, and mystery enchant him. + +The vicar is not ignorant of the danger of all this, and that he and +Pepita expose themselves to fall, without knowing it, into some heresy; +but he tranquillizes his conscience with the thought that, although very +far from being a great theologian, he has his catechism at his fingers' +ends, he has confidence in God that he will illuminate his spirit, and +he hopes not to be led into error, and takes it for granted that Pepita +will follow his counsels, and never deviate from the right path. + +Thus do both form to themselves a thousand poetical conceptions, full of +charm, although vague, of all the mysteries of our religion and the +articles of our faith. Great is the devotion they profess to the most +holy Virgin, and I am astonished to see how they are able to blend the +popular idea or conception of the Virgin with some of the sublimest +theological thoughts. + +From what the vicar relates, I can perceive that Pepita Ximenez's soul, +in the midst of its apparent calmness and serenity, is transfixed by the +sharp arrow of suffering; there is in it a love of purity in +contradiction with her past life. Pepita loved Don Gumersindo as her +companion, as her benefactor, as the man to whom she owed everything; +but she is tortured, she is humiliated by the recollection that Don +Gumersindo was her husband. + +In her devotion to the Virgin there may be detected a feeling of painful +humiliation, of suffering, of sadness, produced by the recollection of +her ignoble and childless marriage. + +Even in her adoration of the _Infant Jesus_, in the beautiful carved +image she has in her house, there is something of maternal love that +lacks an object on which to expend its tenderness, of maternal love that +seeks this object in a being not born of sin and impurity. + +The vicar says that Pepita worships the _Infant Jesus_ as her God, but +that she also loves him with the maternal tenderness she would feel for +a son, if she had one, and whom she had no cause to regard with any +other feeling than affection. The vicar sees that Pepita, in her prayers +to the Holy Virgin, and in her care of her beautiful image of the Child +Jesus, has in her thoughts the ideal Mother and the ideal Son, both +alike immaculate. + +I confess that I know not what to think of all these singularities. I +know so little of women! What the vicar tells me of Pepita surprises me; +and yet, though on the whole I believe her to be good, rather than the +contrary, she inspires me at times with a certain fear on my father's +account. Notwithstanding his fifty-five years, I believe that he is in +love; and Pepita, although virtuous through conviction, may, without +premeditating or intending it, be an instrument of the spirit of evil, +may practice a species of coquetry, involuntary and instinctive, more +irresistible, efficacious, and fatal, than that which proceeds from +premeditation, calculation, and reasoning. + +Who knows, I say to myself at times, notwithstanding her prayers, her +secluded and devout life, her alms and her gifts to the churches, on all +which is based the affection that the vicar entertains for her, if there +be not also an earthly spell, if there be not something of diabolical +magic in the arts she practices, and with which she deludes and beguiles +this simple vicar, so that he thinks and speaks only of her on all +occasions? + +The very influence that Pepita exercises over a man so incredulous as my +father, a man whose nature is so vigorous and so little sentimental, +has in it, in truth, something extraordinary. + +Nor do the good works of Pepita suffice to explain the respect and +affection with which she inspires these country-people in general. On +the rare occasions on which she leaves her house, the little children +run to meet her and kiss her hand; the young girls smile, and salute her +with affection; and the men take off their hats, as she passes, and +incline themselves before her with the most spontaneous reverence and +the most natural good-feeling. + +Pepita Ximenez, whom many of the villagers have known since she was +born, and who, to the knowledge of every one here, lived in poverty with +her mother, until her marriage to the decrepid and avaricious Don +Gumersindo, has caused all this to be forgotten, and is now looked upon +as a wondrous being, a visitant, pure and radiant, from some distant +land, from some higher sphere, and is regarded by her fellow-townspeople +with affectionate esteem, and something like loving admiration. + +I see that I am inadvertently falling into the same fault that I censure +in the reverend vicar, and that I speak to you of nothing but Pepita. +But this is natural. Here no one speaks of anything else. One would +suppose the whole place to be full of the spirit, of the thought, of +the image, of this singular woman, in regard to whom I have not been +able to determine if she be an angel or an accomplished coquette, full +of _instinctive astuteness_, although the words may seem to involve a +contradiction. For I am fully convicted in my own mind that this woman +does not play the coquette, nor seek to gain the good-will of others, in +order to gratify her vanity. + +Pepita's soul is full of candor and sincerity. One has only to see her, +to be convinced of this. Her dignified and graceful bearing, her slender +figure, the smoothness and clearness of her forehead head, the soft and +pure light of her eyes, all blend into a fitting harmony, in which there +is not a single discordant note. + +How deeply I regret having come to this place, and having remained here +so long! I had passed my life in your house, and in the seminary; I had +seen and known no one but my companions and my teachers; I knew nothing +of the world but through speculation and through theory; and suddenly I +find myself thrown into the midst of this world, though it be only that +of a village; and distracted from my studies, meditations, and prayers +by a thousand profane objects. + +_April 20th._ + +Your last letters, dearest uncle, have been a welcome consolation to my +soul. Benevolent, as always, you admonish and enlighten me with prudent +and useful reflections. + +It is true, my impetuosity is worthy of reprobation. I wish to attain my +aims, without making use of the means requisite to their attainment; I +wish to reach the journey's end, without first treading, step by step, +the rough and thorny path. + +I complain of an aridity of spirit in prayer, of inability to fix my +thoughts, of a proneness to dissipate my tenderness on childish objects; +I desire to elevate myself to and be absorbed in God, to attain at once +to the contemplation of essential being, and yet I disdain mental prayer +and rational and discursive meditation. How, without attaining to its +purity, how, without beholding its light, can I hope to enjoy the +delights of divine love? + +I am by nature arrogant, and I shall therefore endeavor to humiliate +myself in my own eyes, in order that God may not suffer the spirit of +evil, in punishment of my pride and presumption, to cover me with +humiliation. + +I do not believe that it would be easy for me to fall into a lapse from +virtue so shameful and unexpected as the one you fear. I do not confide +in myself; I confide in the mercy of God and in his grace; and I trust +they will not fail me. + +Nevertheless, you are altogether right in advising me to abstain from +forming ties of friendship with Pepita Ximenez; I am far enough from +being bound to her by any tie. + +I am not ignorant that, when those holy men and saints, who should serve +us as models and examples, were bound in close intimacy and affection +with women, it was in their old age, or when they were already proved +and disciplined by penitence, or when there existed a noticeable +disproportion in years between them and the pious women they elected to +be their friends; as is related of St. Jerome and St. Paulina, and of +St. John of the Cross and St. Theresa. And even thus, even with a purely +spiritual affection, I know it is possible to sin through excess. For +God only should occupy the soul as Lord and Spouse, and any other being +who dwells in it should do so but as the friend, the servant, the +creation of the Spouse, and as one in whom the Spouse delights. + +Do not think, however, that I vaunt myself on being invincible, that I +despise danger, and defy and seek it. He who loves danger shall perish +therein. And if the prophet-king, though so agreeable in the sight of +God and so favored of him, and Solomon, notwithstanding his supernatural +and God-given wisdom, were troubled and fell into sin because God turned +his face away from them, what have not I to fear, miserable sinner that +I am, so young, so inexperienced in the wiles of the devil, and so +wavering and unpracticed in the combats of virtue! + +Filled with a salutary fear of God, and imbued with a fitting distrust +of my own weakness, I shall not be forgetful of your counsels and your +prudent admonitions; and I shall pray, meantime, with fervor, and +meditate on holy things, in order to abhor the things of the world, in +so far as they deserve abhorrence; but of this I may assure you: that, +however deeply I penetrate into the depths of my conscience, however +carefully I search its inmost recesses, I have thus far discovered +nothing to make me share your fears. + +If my former letters are full of encomiums on the virtue of Pepita, it +is the fault of my father and of the reverend vicar, and not mine; for, +at first, far from being friendly to this woman, I was unjustly +prejudiced against her. + +As for the beauty and physical grace of Pepita, be assured that I have +contemplated them with entire purity of thought, and, though it cost me +something to say it, and may cost you a little to hear it, I confess +that, if any cloud has arisen to dim the clear and serene image of +Pepita in the mirror of my soul, it has been owing to your harsh +suspicions, which, for an instant, have almost made me suspect myself. + +But no; what thought have I ever entertained with regard to Pepita, what +have I seen or praised in her that should lead any one to suppose me to +have any other feeling for her than friendship, and the admiration, pure +and innocent, that a work of art may inspire, the more especially if it +be the work of the Supreme Artist, and nothing less than the temple +wherein he dwells? + +Besides, dear uncle, I shall have to live in the world, to hold +intercourse with my fellow-beings, to see them, and I can not, for that +reason, pluck out my eyes. You have told me many times that you wish me +to devote myself to a life of action, preaching the divine law, and +making it known in the world, rather than to a contemplative life in the +midst of solitude and isolation. Well, then, this being so, how would +you have me act, in order to avoid seeing Pepita Ximenez? Unless I made +myself ridiculous by closing my own eyes in her presence, how could I +fail to notice the beauty of hers; the clearness, the roseate hue, and +the purity of her complexion, the evenness and pearly whiteness of her +teeth, which she discloses with frequency when she smiles, the fresh +carmin of her lips, the serenity and smoothness of her forehead, and a +thousand other attractions with which Heaven has endowed her? It is true +that for one who bears within his soul the germ of evil thoughts, the +leaven of vice, any one of the impressions that Pepita produces might be +the shock of the steel against the flint, kindling the spark that would +set fire to and consume all around it; but, prepared for this danger, +watching against it, and guarded with the shield of Christian prudence, +I do not think I have anything to fear. Besides, if it be rash to seek +danger, it is cowardly not to be able to face it, or to shun it when it +presents itself. + +Have no fear; I see in Pepita only a beautiful creation of God; and in +God I love her as a sister. If I feel any predilection for her, it is +because of the praises I hear spoken of her by my father, by the +reverend vicar, and by almost every one here. + +For my father's sake it would please me were Pepita to relinquish her +inclination for a life of seclusion, and her purpose to lead it, and to +marry him. But were it not for this--were I to see that my father had +only a caprice and not a genuine passion for her--then I should be glad +that Pepita would remain resolute in her chaste widowhood; and when I +should be far away from here, in India or Japan or some other yet more +dangerous mission, I might find a consolation in writing to her of my +wanderings and labors; and, when I returned here in my old age, it +would be a great pleasure for me to be on friendly terms with her, who +would also then be aged, and to hold spiritual colloquies with her, and +chats of the same sort as those the father vicar now holds with her. At +present, however, as I am but a young man, I see but little of Pepita; I +hardly speak to her. I prefer to be thought bashful, shy, ill-bred, and +rude, rather than give the least occasion--not that I should be thought +to feel for her in reality what I ought not to feel--but even for +suspicion or for scandal. + +As for Pepita herself, not even in the most remote degree do I share the +apprehension that, as a vague suspicion, you allow me to perceive. What +projects could she form with respect to a man who, in two or three +months more, is to be a priest! She--who has treated so many others with +disdain--why should she be attracted by me? I know myself well, and I +know that, fortunately, I am not capable of inspiring a passion. They +say I am not ill-looking; but I am awkward, dull, shy, wanting in +amiability; I bear the stamp of what I am, a humble student. What am I, +compared with the gallant if somewhat rustic youths who have paid court +to Pepita--agile horsemen, discreet and agreeable in conversation, +Nimrods in the chase, skilled in all bodily exercises, singers of renown +in all the fairs of Andalusia, and graceful and accomplished in the +dance? If Pepita has scorned all these, how should she now think of me, +and conceive the diabolical desire, and the more than diabolical +project, of troubling the peace of my soul, of making me abandon my +vocation, perhaps of plunging me into perdition? No, it is not possible. +Pepita I believe to be good, and myself--and I say it in all +sincerity--insignificant; insignificant, be it understood, so far as +inspiring her with love is concerned, but not too insignificant to be +her friend, to merit her esteem, to be the object, one day, in a certain +sense, of her preference, when I shall have succeeded in making myself +worthy of this preference by a holy and laborious life. + +I ask you to forgive me if I have vindicated myself too warmly from +certain half-expressed suspicions in your letter--suspicions that sound +like accusations, or like prophetic warnings. + +I do not complain of these suspicions: you have given me judicious +advice, the greater part of which I accept, and intend to follow; if you +have gone a little beyond what is just, in your suspicions, it is owing, +without doubt, to the interest you take in me, and for which I am +grateful to you with all my heart. + +_May 4th._ + +It is strange that in so many days I should not have had time to write +to you, but such is the fact. My father does not let me rest a moment, +and I am besieged by visitors. + +In large cities it is easy to avoid seeing visitors, to isolate one's +self, to create for one's self a solitude, a Thebaid in the midst of the +tumult; in an Andalusian village, and, above all, when one has the honor +of being the son of the squire, it is necessary to live in public. Not +only now to my study, but even to my bedroom, do the reverend vicar, the +notary, my cousin Currito, the son of Doña Casilda, and a hundred +others, penetrate without any one daring to oppose them, waken me if I +am asleep, and carry me off with them wherever they wish. + +The club-house here is not a place of amusement for the evening only, +but for all the hours of the day. From eleven o'clock in the morning it +is full of people, who chat, glance over a paper to learn the news, and +play at _hombra._ There are persons here who spend ten or twelve hours a +day at this game. In short, there is as much enjoyment here as one could +well desire. In order that this enjoyment may be uninterrupted, there +are a great many amusements. Besides _hombra,_ there are many other +games at cards. Checkers, chess, and dominoes are not neglected. And, +finally, there is a decided passion for cock-fighting. + +All this, together with making calls, going to the fields to inspect the +work, settling accounts every night with the overseer, visiting the +wine-vaults and cask-stores, superintending the clarifying, decanting, +and perfecting of the wines, treating with gypsies and horse-dealers for +the purchase, sale, or barter of horses, mules, and donkeys, or with +dealers from Jeres who come to buy our wine in order to convert it into +sherry, are here the daily occupation of the gentry, squirearchy, or +whatever else they may choose to call themselves. On extraordinary +occasions there are other tasks and amusements that give a greater +appearance of animation to everything: as in harvest-time, at the +vintage, and the gathering in of the olives; or when there is a fair or +a bull-fight, either here or in the neighboring village; or when there +is a pilgrimage to the sanctuary of some miraculous image of the Holy +Virgin, where, if it be true that many go through curiosity, or to amuse +themselves, and give to their sweethearts a fairing of a Cupid or a +scapula, many more go through devotion, or in fulfillment of a vow or +promise. One of these sanctuaries is situated at the top of a very high +mountain, yet there are delicate women who, to reach it, will climb, +with bare feet, wounded by the stones and brambles, the steep and +rugged path that leads to it. + +There is, in the life here, a certain charm. For one who has no desire +for fame, no ambition, I can understand that it might be a very easy and +agreeable life. Even solitude may be obtained by an effort. As I am here +only for a short time, I can neither make this effort, nor ought I to do +so; but if I were settled here, I should find no difficulty in secluding +myself--and that, too, without offending any one--for several hours, or +for the whole day, if it were necessary, in order to devote myself to my +studies and meditations. + +Your last letter has troubled me a little. I see that you persist in +your suspicions, and I know not what answer to make, in order to justify +myself, but the answer I have already made you. + +You say that the victory, in a certain kind of warfare, consists in +flight; that to fly is to conquer. Why should I seek to deny what the +apostle and so many holy fathers and doctors of the Church have said? +But you well know that, in this case, flight does not depend upon me. My +father is resolved that I shall not go; he keeps me here against my +will, and I must obey him. The victory must be gained by other means, +then, than by flight. + +To set your mind at rest, I repeat that matters have not gone so far as +you think; that you see them in a much more advanced stage than they +really are. + +There is not the slightest sign that Pepita Ximenez loves me. And even +did she love me, it would be in a different way from that in which those +women loved whom you cite as a salutary warning to me. A lady of our +times, virtuous and well brought up, is neither so susceptible nor so +wanting in decorum as those matrons of whose adventures ancient history +is full. + +The passage you cite from St. John Chrysostom is indeed worthy of +consideration; but it is not altogether applicable to the circumstances. +The great lady that in Of, Thebes, or Diospolis Magna, fell in love with +the favorite son of Jacob, was in all probability extremely handsome. By +such a supposition only can one comprehend the words of the saint, that +it was a greater miracle that Joseph should have passed through this +ordeal unscathed, than that the three young men whom Nebuchadnezzar +caused to be placed in the fiery furnace were not reduced to ashes! + +As far as beauty is concerned, I confess frankly that I can not think +that the wife of the Egyptian prince, chamberlain of the palace of the +Pharaohs, or whatever else may have been his title, was in any degree +superior to Pepita Ximenez. But neither am I endowed with as many gifts +and excellences as was Joseph, nor is Pepita a woman without religion +and without decorum. And even were the circumstances such as he relates, +were all those horrors true, I can only account for the exaggerated +language of St. John Chrysostom by the fact that he lived in the corrupt +capital, half Gentile still, of the Lower Empire, in the midst of that +court whose vices he so harshly censures, and where even the Empress +Eudoxia herself gave an example of scandal and corruption. + +But in our day, when the morality taught in the gospel has penetrated +more deeply into the strata of society, it seems to me an exaggeration +to think the chaste scorn of the son of Jacob any more miraculous than +the material incombustibility of the three young men of Babylon. + +There is one point on which you touch in your letter that encourages and +pleases me greatly. You condemn, as is right, the exaggerated +sentimentality, and the tendency to be easily moved and to weep from +childish motives, from which I told you that I suffered at times; but, +since this disposition of soul, so necessary to combat, exists in me, +you rejoice that it does not affect my prayers and meditations, and +contaminate them. You recognize and praise in me the virile energy that +should animate the passions and the mind that seek to elevate themselves +to God. + +The intelligence that strives to comprehend him must be a vigorous one; +the will that submits itself entirely to him must first have triumphed, +fighting bravely against every appetite, and defeating and putting to +flight every temptation over self. The very passion that, purified and +ardent, has power, even in weak and miserable mortals, to exalt itself, +by an ecstasy of love, to God himself, attaining by a supernatural +illumination to the knowledge of him, is the offspring of a steadfast +and upright character, as well as of the divine grace. This languor, +this debility of the will, this morbid tenderness have nothing in them +in common with charity, with piety, or with divine love. The former are +the attributes of a nature less than feminine; the latter are passions, +if passions they can be called, of angels rather than of men. God will +be my surety, and with his help I will fight for my own salvation. But, +should I sink into perdition, not in disguise nor by capitulation shall +the enemies of the soul and the sins of the flesh enter into the +fortress of my conscience, but with banners flying, laying waste +everything before them by fire and sword, and after a desperate +conflict. + +In the past few days I have had occasion to practice patience in an +extreme degree, and to mortify my self-love in the most cruel manner. My +father, wishing to reciprocate Pepita's compliment of the garden-party, +invited her to visit his villa of the _Pozo de la Solana_. The excursion +took place on the 22d of April. I shall not soon forget that date. + +The _Pozo de la Solana_ is about two leagues distant from the village, +and the only road to it is a bridle-path. We all had to go on horseback. +As I never learned to ride, I had on former occasions accompanied my +father mounted on a pacing mule, gentle and, according to the expression +of Dientes the muleteer, as good as gold, and of easier motion than a +carriage. On the journey to the _Pozo de la Solana_ I went in the same +manner. + +My father, the notary, the apothecary, and my cousin Currito, were +mounted on good horses. My aunt, Doña Casilda, who weighs more than two +hundred and fifty pounds, rode on a large and powerful donkey, seated in +a commodious side-saddle. The reverend vicar rode a gentle and easy mule +like mine. + +As for Pepita Ximenez, who, I supposed, would go also mounted on a +donkey, in the same sort of easy saddle as my aunt--for I was ignorant +that she knew how to ride--she surprised me by making her appearance on +a black and white horse full of fire and spirit. She wore a +riding-habit, and managed her horse with admirable grace and skill. + +I was pleased to see Pepita look so charming on horseback, but I soon +began to foresee and to be mortified by the sorry part I would play, +jogging on in the rear beside my corpulent aunt Casilda and the vicar, +all three as quiet and tranquil as if we were seated in a carriage, +while the gay cavalcade in front would caracole, gallop, trot, and make +a thousand other displays of their horsemanship. + +I fancied on the instant that there was something of compassion in +Pepita's glance as she noted the pitiable appearance I no doubt +presented, seated on my mule. My cousin Currito looked at me with a +mocking smile, and immediately began to make fun of me and to tease me. + +Confess that I deserve credit for my resignation and courage. I +submitted to everything with a good grace, and Currito's jests soon +ceased when he saw that I was invulnerable to them. But what did I not +suffer in secret! The others, now trotting, now galloping, rode in +advance of us, both in going and returning. The vicar and I, with Doña +Casilda between us, rode on, tranquil as the mules we were seated upon, +without hastening or retarding our pace. + +I had not even the consolation of chatting with the vicar, in whose +conversation I find so much pleasure, nor of wrapping myself up in my +own thoughts and giving the reign to my fancy, nor of silently admiring +the beauty of the scenery around us. Doña Casilda is gifted with an +abominable loquacity, and we were obliged to listen to her. She told us +all there is to be told of the gossip of the village; she recounted to +us all her accomplishments; she told us how to make sausages, +brain-puddings, pastry, and innumerable other dishes and delicacies. +There is no one, according to herself, who can rival her in matters +pertaining to the kitchen, or to the dressing of hogs, but Antoñona, the +nurse of Pepita, and now her housekeeper and general manager. I am +already acquainted with this Antoñona, for she goes back and forth +between her mistress's house and ours with messages, and is in truth +extremely handy; as loquacious as Aunt Casilda, but a great deal more +discreet. + +The scenery on the road to the _Pozo de la Solana_ is charming, but my +mind was so disturbed during our journey that I could not enjoy it. When +we arrived at the villa and dismounted, I was relieved of a great load, +as if it had been I who carried the mule, and not the mule who carried +me. + +We then proceeded on foot through the estate, which is magnificent, of +varied character, and extensive. There are vines, old and newly planted, +all on the same boundary-line, that produce more than a hundred and +twenty bushels of grapes; olive-trees that yield to the same amount; +and, finally, a grove of the most majestic oaks that are to be found in +all Andalusia. The water of the _Pozo de la Solana_ forms a clear and +deep brook at which all the birds of the neighborhood come to drink, and +on whose borders they are caught by hundreds, by means of reeds smeared +with bird-lime, or of nets, in the center of which are fastened a cord +and a decoy. All this carried my thoughts back to the sports of my +childhood, and to the many times that I too had gone to catch birds in +the same manner. + +Following the course of the brook, and especially in the ravines, are +many poplars and other tall trees, that, together with the bushes and +the shrubs, form a dark and labyrinthine wood. A thousand fragrant wild +flowers grow there spontaneously, and it would, in truth, be difficult +to imagine anything more secluded and sylvan, more solitary, peaceful, +and silent than this spot. The mind is invaded here, during all the +fervor of noonday, when the sun pours down his light in torrents from a +heaven without a cloud, by the same mysterious terror that visits it at +times in the silent hours of the night. One can understand here the +manner of life of the patriarchs of old, and of the primitive shepherds +and heroes; and the visions and apparitions that appeared to them of +nymphs, of gods, and of angels, in the midst of the noonday brightness. + +As we walked through this thicket, there arrived a moment in which, I +know not how, Pepita and I found ourselves alone together. The others +had remained behind. + +I felt a sudden thrill pass through me. For the first time, and in a +place so solitary, I found myself alone with this woman, while my +thoughts were still dwelling on the noontide apparitions, now sinister, +now gracious, but always supernatural, vouchsafed to the men of remote +ages. + +Pepita had left the long skirt of her riding-habit in the house, and now +wore a short dress that did not interfere with the graceful ease of her +movements. She had on her head a little Andalusian hat, which became her +extremely. She carried in her hand her riding-whip, which I fancied to +myself to be a magic wand by means of which this enchantress might cast +her spells over me. + +I am not afraid to transcribe here these eulogies of her beauty. In this +sylvan scene she appeared to me more beautiful than ever. The precaution +recommended in similar cases by ascetics, to think of her beauty +defaced by sickness and old age, to picture her to myself dead, the prey +of corruption and of the worm, presented itself, against my will, to my +imagination; and I say _against my will_, for I do not concur in the +necessity for such a precaution. No thought of the material, no +suggestion of the evil spirit, troubled my reason, or infected my will +or my senses. + +What did occur to me was an argument, at least to my mind, in disproof +of the efficacy of this precaution. Beauty, the creation of a Sovereign +and Divine Power, may, indeed, be frail and ephemeral, may vanish in an +instant; but the idea of beauty is eternal, and, once perceived by the +mind, it lives there an immortal life. The beauty of this woman, such as +it manifests itself to-day, will disappear in a few short years; the +graceful form, those charming contours, the noble head that raises +itself so proudly above her shoulders, all will be food for loathsome +worms; but though the material must of necessity be transformed, its +idea, the thought through which it was created, abstract beauty, in a +word, who shall destroy this? Does it not exist in the Divine Mind? Once +perceived and known by me, shall it not continue to live in my soul, +triumphing over age and even over death? + +I was meditating thus, striving to tranquillize my spirit and to +dissipate the doubts which you have succeeded in infusing into my mind, +when Pepita and I encountered each other. I was pleased and at the same +time troubled to find myself alone with her--hoping and yet fearing that +the others would join us. + +The silvery voice of Pepita broke the silence, and drew me from my +meditations, saying: + +"How silent you are, Don Luis, and how sad! I am pained to think that it +is, perhaps, through my fault, or partly so at least, that your father +has caused you to spend a disagreeable day in these solitudes, taking +you away from a solitude more congenial, where there would be nothing to +distract your attention from your prayers and pious books." + +I know not what answer I made to this. It must have been something +nonsensical, for my mind was troubled. I did not wish to flatter Pepita +by paying her profane compliments, nor, on the other hand, did I wish to +answer her rudely. + +She continued: + +"You must forgive me if I am wrong, but I fancy that, in addition to the +annoyance of seeing yourself deprived to-day of your favorite +occupation, there is something else that powerfully contributes to your +ill-humor." + +"And what is this something else?" I said; "since you have discovered +it, or fancy you have done so." + +"This something else," responded Pepita, "is a feeling not altogether +becoming in one who is going to be a priest so soon, but very natural in +a young man of twenty-two." + +On hearing this I felt the blood mount to my face, and my face burn. I +imagined a thousand absurdities; I thought myself beset by evil spirits; +I fancied myself tempted by Pepita, who was doubtless about to let me +understand that she knew I loved her. Then my timidity gave place to +haughtiness, and I looked her steadily in the face. There must have been +something laughable in my look, but either Pepita did not observe it, +or, if she did, she concealed the fact with amiable discretion; for she +exclaimed, in the most natural manner: + +"Do not be offended because I find you are not without fault. This that +I have observed seems to me a slight one. You are hurt by the jests of +Currito, and by being compelled to play--speaking profanely--a not very +dignified _rôle_, mounted, like the reverend vicar with his eighty +years, on a placid mule, and not, as a youth of your age and condition +should be, on a spirited horse. The fault is the reverend dean's, to +whom it did not occur that you should learn to ride. To know how to +manage a horse is not opposed to the career you intend to follow, and I +think, now that you are here, that your father might in a few days give +you the necessary instruction to enable you to do so. If you should go +to Persia or to China, where there are no railroads yet, you will make +but a sorry figure in those countries as a bad horseman. It is possible, +even, that, through this want of foresight of the dean's, the missionary +himself may come to lose prestige in the eyes of those barbarians, which +will make it all the more difficult for him to reap the fruits of his +labors." + +This and other arguments Pepita adduced in order to persuade me to learn +to ride on horseback; and I was so convinced of the necessity of a +missionary's being a good horseman, that I promised her to learn at +once, taking my father for a teacher. + +"On the very next expedition we make," I said, "I shall ride the most +spirited horse my father has, instead of the mule I am riding to-day." + +"I shall be very glad of it," responded Pepita, with a smile of +indescribable sweetness. + +At this moment we were joined by the rest of the party, at which I was +secretly rejoiced, though for no other reason than the fear of not being +able to sustain the conversation, and of saying a great many foolish +things, on account of the little experience I have had in conversing +with women. + +After our walk my father's servants spread before us on the fresh grass, +in the most charming spot beside the brook, a rural and abundant +collation. + +The conversation was very animated, and Pepita sustained her part in it +with much discretion and intelligence. My cousin Currito returned to his +jests about my manner of riding and the meekness of my mule. He called +me a theologian, and said that, seated on mule-back, I looked as if I +were dispensing blessings. This time, however, being now firmly resolved +to learn to ride, I answered his jests with sarcastic indifference. I +was silent, nevertheless, with respect to the promise I had just made +Pepita. The latter, doubtless thinking as I did--although we had come to +no understanding in the matter--that silence for the present was +necessary to insure the complete success of the surprise that I would +create afterward by my knowledge of horsemanship, said nothing of our +conversation. Thus it happened, naturally and in the simplest manner, +that a secret existed between us; and it produced in my mind a singular +effect. + +Nothing else worth telling occurred during the day. + +In the afternoon we returned to the village in the same manner in which +we had left it. Yet, seated on my easy-going mule and at the side of my +aunt Casilda, I did not experience the same fatigue or sadness as +before. + +During the whole journey I listened without weariness to my aunt's +stories, amusing myself at times in conjuring up idle fancies. Nothing +of what passes in my soul shall be concealed from you. I confess, then, +that the figure of Pepita was, as it were, the center, or rather the +nucleus and focus of these idle fancies.-- + +The noonday vision in which she had appeared to me in the shadiest and +most sequestered part of the grove, brought to my memory all the +visions, holy and unholy, of wondrous beings, of a condition superior to +ours, that I had read of in sacred authors and in the profane classics. +Pepita appeared to the eyes and on the stage of my fancy in foe, leafy +seclusion of the grove not as she rode before us on horseback but in an +ideal and ethereal fashion, as to Æneas his mother, as Minerva to +Callimachus, as the sylph who, afterward became the mother of Libusa to +the Bohemian Kroco, as Diana to the son of Aristæus, as the angels in +the valley of Mamre to the patriarch, as the hippocentaur to St. Anthony +in the solitude of the wilderness. + +That the vision of Pepita should assume in my mind something of a +supernatural character, seems to me no more to be wondered at than any +of these. For an instant, seeing the consistency of the illusion, I +thought myself tempted by evil spirits; but I reflected that in the few +moments, during which I had been alone with Pepita near the brook of the +Solana, nothing had occurred that was not natural and commonplace; that +it was afterward, as I rode along quietly on my mule, that some demon, +hovering invisible around me, had suggested these extravagant fancies. + +That night I told my father of my desire to learn to ride. I did not +wish to conceal from him that it was Pepita who had suggested this +desire. My father was greatly rejoiced; he embraced me, he kissed me, he +said that now not you only would be my teacher, but that he also would +have the pleasure of teaching me something. He ended by assuring me that +in two or three weeks he would make of me the best horseman of all +Andalusia; able to go to Gibraltar for contraband goods and come back +laden with tobacco and cotton, after eluding the vigilance of the +custom-house officers; fit, in a word, to astonish the riders who show +off their horsemanship in the fairs of Seville and Mairena, and worthy +to press the flanks of Babrecá, Bucephalus, or even of the horses of the +sun themselves, if they should by chance descend to earth, and I could +catch them by the bridle. + +I don't know what you will think of this notion of my learning to ride, +but I take it for granted you will see nothing wrong in it. + +If you could but see how happy my father is, and how he delights in +teaching me! Since the day after the excursion I told you of, I take two +lessons daily. There are days on which the lesson is continuous, for we +spend from morning till night on horseback. During the first week the +lessons took place in the court-yard of the house, which is unpaved, and +which served us as a riding-school. + +We now ride out into the country, but manage so that no one shall see +us. My father does not want me to show myself on horseback in public +until I am able to astonish every one by my fine appearance in the +saddle, as he says. If the vanity natural to a father does not deceive +him, this, it seems, will be very soon, for I have a wonderful aptitude +for riding. + +"It is easy to see that you are my son!" my father exclaims with joy, as +he watches my progress. + +My father is so good that I hope you will pardon him the profane +language and irreverent jests in which he indulges at times. I grieve +for this at the bottom of my soul, but I endure it with patience. These +constant and long-continued lessons have reduced me to a pitiable +condition with blisters. My father enjoins me to write to you that they +are caused by my flagellations. + +As he declares that within a few weeks I shall be an accomplished +horseman, and he does not desire to be superannuated as a master, he +proposes to teach me other accomplishments of a somewhat irregular +character, and sufficiently unsuited to a future priest. At times he +proposes to train me in throwing the bull in order that he may take me +afterward to Seville, where, with lance in hand, on the plains of +Tablada, I shall make the braggarts and the bullies stare. Then he +recalls his own youthful days, when he belonged to the body-guard, and +declares that he will look up his foils, gloves, and masks, and teach me +to fence. And, finally, as my father flatters himself that he can wield +the Sevillian knife better than any one else, he has offered to teach me +even this accomplishment also. + +You can already imagine the answer I make to all this nonsense. My +father replies that, in the good old times, not only the priests but +even the bishops themselves rode about the country on horseback, putting +infidels to the sword. I rejoin that this might happen in the dark ages, +but that in our days the ministers of the Most High should know how to +wield no other weapons than those of persuasion. "And what if persuasion +be not enough?" rejoins my father. "Do you think it would be amiss to +re-enforce argument with a few good blows of a cudgel?" The complete +missionary, according to my father's opinion, should know how, on +occasion, to have recourse to these heroic measures, and, as my father +has read a great many tales and romances, he cites various examples in +support of his opinion. He cites in the first place St. James, who, on +his white horse, without ceasing to be an apostle, puts the Moors to the +sword more frequently than he convinces or preaches to them; he cites a +certain Señor de la Vega who, being sent on an embassy to Boabdil by +Ferdinand and Isabella, became entangled in a theological discussion +with the Moors in the court-yard of the Lions, and, being at the end of +his arguments, drew his sword and fell upon them with fury in order to +complete their conversion; and he finally cites the Biscayan hidalgo, +Don Inigo de Loyola, who, in a controversy he had with a Moor, regarding +the purity of the Holy Virgin, growing weary at last of the impious and +horrible blasphemies with which the aforesaid Moor contradicted him, +fell upon him, sword in hand, and, if he had not taken to his heels, +would have enforced conviction upon his soul in a terrible fashion. In +regard to the incident relating to St. Ignatius, I answer my father that +this was before the saint became a priest; and in regard to the other +examples, I answer that historians are not agreed in the matter. + +In short, I defend myself as best I can against my father's jests, and I +content myself with being a good horseman, without learning other +accomplishments unsuited to the clergy; although my father assures me +that not a few of the Spanish clergy understand and practice them with +frequency in Spain, even in our own day, with a view to contributing to +the triumph of the faith, and to the preservation or the restoration of +the unity of the Church. + +I am grieved to the soul by this levity of my father's, and that he +should speak with irreverence and jestingly about the most serious +things; but a respectful son is not called upon to go further than I do +in repressing his somewhat Voltairean freedom of speech. I say +_Voltairean,_ because I am not able to describe it by any other word. At +heart my father is a good Catholic, and this thought consoles me. + +Tuesday was the Feast of the Cross, and the village presented a very +animated appearance. In each street were six or seven May-crosses, +covered with flowers, but none of them was so beautiful as that placed +by Pepita at the door of her house. It was adorned by a perfect cascade +of flowers. + +In the evening we went to an entertainment at the house of Pepita. The +cross which had stood at the door was now placed in a large saloon on +the ground-floor, in which there is a piano, and Pepita presented us +with a simple and poetic spectacle, one that I had seen when a child, +but had since forgotten. + +From the upper part of the cross hung down seven bands or broad ribbons, +two white, two green, and three red, the symbolic colors of the +theological virtues. Eight children of five or six years old, +representing the seven sacraments, and holding the seven ribbons that +hung from the cross, performed with great skill a species of +contra-dance. The sacrament of baptism was represented by a child +wearing the white robe of a catechumen; ordination, by another child as +a priest; confirmation, by a little bishop; extreme unction, by a +pilgrim with staff and scrip, the latter filled with shells; marriage, +by a bride and bridegroom, and penance, by a Nazarene with cross and +crown of thorns. + +The dance was a series of reverences, steps, evolutions, and +genuflections, rather than a dance, performed to the sound of very +tolerable music, something like a march, which the organist played, not +without skill, on the piano. + +The little dancers, children of the servants or retainers of Pepita, +after playing their parts, went away to bed amid compliments and +caresses. + +The entertainment, in the course of which we were served with +refreshments, continued till twelve; the refreshments were sirup served +in little cups, and afterward chocolate with sponge-cake, and meringues +and water. + +Since the return of spring, Pepita's seclusion and retirement are being +gradually abandoned, at which my father is greatly rejoiced. In future, +Pepita will receive every night, and my father desires that I shall be +one of the guests. + +Pepita has left off mourning, and now appears more lovely and attractive +than ever, in the lighter fabrics appropriate to the season, which is +almost summer. She still dresses, however, with extreme simplicity. + +I cherish the hope that my father will not now detain me here beyond the +end of this month at farthest. In June we shall both join you in the +city, and you shall then see how, far from Pepita, to whom I am +indifferent, and who will remember me neither kindly nor unkindly, I +shall have the pleasure of embracing you, and attaining at last to the +happiness of being ordained. + +_May 7th._ + +Pepita, as I mentioned to you before, receives every evening, from nine +to twelve. + +Four or five married ladies of the village, and as many more unmarried +ones, including Aunt Casilda, are frequent visitors; as well as six or +seven young men, who play at forfeits with the girls. Three or four +engagements are the natural result. + +The sedate portion of the company are the same as usual. These are, as +one may say, the high functionaries of the village--my father, who is +the squire, the apothecary, the doctor, and the reverend vicar. + +I am at a loss to know in which division to place myself. If I join the +young people, my gravity proves a hindrance to their games and +flirtations; if I stay with the elders, I must play the _rôle_ of a +looker-on in things I have no knowledge of. The only games of cards I +know are the _burro ciego_, the _burro con vista_, and a little _tute_ +or _brisca cruzada_. + +The best course for me to pursue would be to absent myself from the +house altogether, but my father will not hear of this. By doing so, +according to him, I should make myself ridiculous. + +My father shows many signs of wonder when he sees my ignorance in +certain things. That I should not know how to play even ombre fills him +with astonishment. + +"Your uncle has brought you up quite out of the world," he says to me, +"cramming you with theology, and leaving you in the dark about +everything else you ought to know. For the very reason that you are to +be a priest, and can neither dance nor make love in society, it is +necessary that you should know how to play ombre. Otherwise how are you +going to spend your time, unhappy boy?" + +To these and other arguments of a like land I have been obliged to +yield, and my father is teaching me at home to play ombre, so that, as +soon as I have learned it, I may play it at Pepita's. He wanted also, as +I already told you, to teach me to fence, and afterward to smoke and +shoot and throw the bar; but I have consented to nothing of all this. + +"What a difference," my father exclaims, "between your youth and mine!" + +And then he adds, laughing: + +"In substance it is the same thing. I, too, had my canonical hours, in +the quarters of the life-guard: a cigar was the censer; a pack of cards, +the hymn-book; and there were never wanting other devotions and +exercises of a more or less spiritual character." + +Although you had warned me of this levity of disposition of my father, +and on account of it I have spent with you twelve years of my life--from +the age of ten to that of twenty-two--yet the sayings of his, altogether +too free at times, perturb and mortify me. But what is to be done? +Although I can not reprove him for making use of them, I do not, on the +other hand, applaud or laugh at them. The strangest part of it is that +my father is altogether another person when he is in the house of +Pepita. Not even by chance does a single phrase, a single jest of the +kind he is so prodigal of at other times escape from him then. At +Pepita's my father is politeness itself. He seems, too, to become every +day more attached to her, and to cherish greater hopes of success. + +My father continues greatly pleased with me as his pupil in +horsemanship. He declares that in four or five days I shall have +mastered the art, and that I shall then mount Lucero, a black horse bred +from an Arab horse and a mare of the race of Guadalcazar, full of fire +and spirit, and trained to all manner of curvetings. + +"Whoever succeeds in getting on the back of Lucero," my father says to +me, "may venture to compete in horsemanship with the centaurs +themselves; and that you shall do very soon." + +Although I spend the whole day out of doors on horseback, in the +club-house, or at Pepita's, I yet steal a few hours from slumber, +sometimes voluntarily, sometimes because I can not sleep, to meditate on +my situation and to examine my conscience. The image of Pepita is always +present to my mind. "Can this be love?" I ask myself. + +The moral obligation I am under, the vow I have made to consecrate +myself to the service of the altar, although not confirmed, is +nevertheless, in my eyes, full and binding. If anything opposed to the +fulfillment of this vow has entered into my soul, it must be combated. + +I note, too, and do not accuse me of arrogance because I mention this to +you, that the empire of my will, which you have taught me to exercise, +is complete over my senses. While Moses on the top of Mount Sinai +conversed with God, the people on the plain below adored, rebellious, +the golden calf. Notwithstanding my youth, my spirit has no fears of +incurring a like rebelliousness. I might converse with God in full +security, if the enemy did not come to attack me in the sanctuary +itself. But the image of Pepita presents itself to my soul. It is a +spirit that makes war against my spirit. It is the idea of her beauty in +all its spiritual purity, that stands before the sanctuary of the souls +where God resides, and prevents me from reaching him. + +I do not shut my eyes to the truth, however; I can see clearly; I can +reason; I do not deceive myself. Above and beyond this spiritual +inclination that draws me to Pepita, is the love of the Infinite and of +the Eternal. Although I represent Pepita to myself as an idea, as a +poem, it is still the idea, the poetry of something finite, limited, +concrete; while the love of God and the conception of God embrace +everything. But, notwithstanding all my efforts, I am unable to give +form in my mind to this supreme conception--this object of the highest +love--in order that it may combat the image, the memory of the frail and +ephemeral reality that continually besets me. Fervently do I implore +Heaven to awaken within me the power of the imagination, that it may +create a likeness, a symbol of this conception, that shall be +all-embracing, and absorb and efface the image of Pepita. This highest +conception, on which I desire to center my love, is vague, shadowy, +indescribable, like the blackness of darkness; while Pepita's image +presents itself to me in clearly defined outlines, bright, palpable, +luminous with the subdued light that may be borne by the eyes of the +spirit, not bright with the intense light that for the eyes of the +spirit is as darkness. + +Every other consideration, every other object is of no avail to destroy +her image. Between the crucifix and me it places itself; between the +most sacred image of the Virgin and me it places itself; on the page of +the spiritual book I am reading it also comes to place itself. + +Yet I do not believe that my soul is invaded by what in the world is +called love. And even if this were the case, I should do battle against +this love, and conquer in the end. + +The daily sight of Pepita, the hearing her praises sounded continually, +even by the reverend vicar, preoccupy me; they turn my spirit toward +profane things, and withdraw it from its proper meditations. But, no--I +do not yet love Pepita; I will go away from here and forget her. + +While I remain here, I shall do battle with valor. I shall wrestle with +the Lord in order to prevail with him by love and submission. My cries +shall reach him like burning arrows, and shall cast down the buckler +wherewith he defends himself from the eyes of my soul. I shall fight +like Israel in the silence of the night; and the Lord shall wound me in +the thigh, and shall humble me in the conflict in order that, being +vanquished, I may become the victor. + +_May 12th._ + +Before I had any intention of doing so, my dear uncle, my father +persuaded me to ride Lucero. Yesterday, at six in the morning, I mounted +the beautiful wild creature, as my father calls Lucero, and we set out +for the country. + +I rode so well, I kept so firm a seat, and looked to such advantage on +the superb animal, that my father could not resist the temptation of +showing off his pupil; and, about eleven in the morning, after resting +at a grange he owns, half a league distant from here, he insisted on our +returning to the village and entering it by the most frequented street, +which we did, our horses' hoofs clattering loudly against the +paving-stones. It is needless to say that we rode by the house of +Pepita, who for some time past is to be seen occasionally in her window, +and who was then seated at the grating of a lower window, behind the +green blind. + +Hardly had Pepita heard the noise we made than, lifting up her eyes and +seeing us, she rose, laid down the sewing she had in her hands, and set +herself to observe us. Lucero, who has the habit, as I learned +afterward, of prancing and curveting when he passes the house of Pepita, +began to show off, and to rear and plunge. I tried to quiet him, but, as +there was something unfamiliar to him in the ways of his present rider, +as well as in the rider himself, whom, perhaps, he regarded with +contempt, he grew more and more unmanageable, and began to neigh and +prance, and even to kick; but I remained firm and serene, showing him +that I was his master, chastising him with the spur, touching his breast +with the whip, and holding him in by the bridle. Lucero, who had almost +stood up on his hind-legs, now humbled himself so far as to bend his +knees gently and make a reverence. + +The crowd of idlers who had gathered around us broke into boisterous +applause. My father called out to them: + +"A good lesson that for our braggarts and blusterers!" + +And, observing afterward that Currito--who has no other occupation than +to amuse himself--was among the crowd, he addressed him in these words: + +"Look at that, you rascal! Look at the theologian now, and see if you +don't stare with wonder, instead of laughing at him." + +And, in fact, there Currito stood stock-still with amazement, and unable +to utter a word. + +My triumph was great and assured, although unsuited to my character. The +unfitness of the triumph covered me with confusion. Shame brought the +blood to my cheeks. I must have turned as red as scarlet, or redder, +when I saw that Pepita was applauding and saluting me graciously, while +she smiled and clapped her beautiful hands. + +In short, I have been adjudged a man of nerve, and a horseman of the +first rank. + +My father could not be prouder or more happy than he is; he declares +that he is completing my education, that in me you have sent him a book +full of wisdom, but unconnected and unbound, which he is now making a +fair copy, and putting it between covers. + +On two occasions I played _hombre_ with Pepita. Learning _hombre_, if +that be a part of the binding and the correcting, is already done with. + +The night after my equestrian feat Pepita received me with enthusiasm, +and--what she had never ventured nor perhaps desired to do before--she +gave me her hand. + +Do not suppose that I did not call to mind what so many moralists and +ascetics recommend in like cases, but in my inmost thoughts I believed +they exaggerated the danger. Those words of the Holy Spirit, that it is +as dangerous to touch a woman as a scorpion, seem to me to have been +said in another sense. In pious books, no doubt, many phrases and +sentences of the Scriptures are, with the best intentions, interpreted +harshly. How are we to understand otherwise the saying that the beauty +of woman, this perfect work of God, is always the cause of perdition? Or +how are we to understand, in a universal and invariable sense, that +woman is more bitter than death? How are we to understand that he who +touches a woman, on whatever occasion or with whatsoever thought, shall +not be without stain? + +In fine, I made answer rapidly within my mind to these and other similar +counsels, and took the hand that Pepita kindly extended to me and +pressed it in mine. Its softness made me comprehend all the better the +delicacy and beauty of the hand that until now I had known only by +sight. + +According to the usages of the world, the hand, once given, should be +given always thereafter on entering a room and on taking leave. I hope +that in this ceremony, in this evidence of friendship, in this +manifestation of kindness, given and accepted in purity of heart, and +without any mixture of levity, you will see nothing either evil or +dangerous. + +As my father is often obliged of an evening to see the overseer and +others of the country-people, and is seldom free until half-past ten or +eleven, I take his place beside Pepita at the ombre-table. The reverend +vicar and the notary are generally the other partners. We each stake a +penny a point, so that not more than a dollar or two changes hands in +the game. + +As the game possesses thus but little interest, we interrupt it +constantly with pleasant conversation, and even with discussions on +matters foreign to the game itself, in all which Pepita displays such +clearness of understanding, such liveliness of imagination, and a grace +of expression so extraordinary, as to astonish me. + +I find no sufficient motive to change my opinion with respect to what I +have already said in answer to your suspicions that Pepita perhaps feels +a certain liking for me. She manifests toward me the affection she would +naturally entertain for the son of her suitor, Don Pedro de Vargas, and +the timidity and shyness that would be inspired by a man in my position, +who, though not yet a priest, is soon to become one. + +Nevertheless, as I always speak to you in my letters as if I were +kneeling before you in the confessional, I desire, as is my duty, to +communicate to you a passing impression I have received on two or three +occasions. This impression may be but a hallucination or a delusion, but +I have none the less received it. + +I have already told you in my former letters that the eyes of Pepita, +green as those of Circe, are calm and tranquil in their gaze; she does +not seem to be conscious of their power, or to know that they serve for +any other purpose than to see with. When she looks at one, the soft +light of her glance is so clear, so frank, and so untroubled that, +instead of giving rise to any evil thoughts, it seems to give birth to +pure thoughts, and leaves innocent and chaste souls in untroubled +repose, while it destroys every incitement to evil in souls that are not +chaste. There is no trace of ardent passion, no fire to be discovered in +Pepita's eyes. Their light is like the mild ray of the moon. + +Well, then, notwithstanding all this, I fancied I detected, on two or +three occasions, a sudden brightness, a gleam as of lightning, a swift, +devouring flame in her eyes as they rested on me. Can this be the result +of a ridiculous vanity, inspired by the arch-fiend himself? + +I think so. I believe it is, and I wish to believe it. + +The swiftness, the fugitive nature of the impression make me conjecture +that it had no external reality, that it was only an illusion. + +The serenity of heaven, the coldness of indifference, tempered, indeed, +with sweetness and charity--this is what I always discern in Pepita's +eyes. + +Nevertheless, this illusion, this vision of a strange and ardent glance, +torments me. + +My father affirms that in affairs of the heart it is the woman, not the +man, who takes the first step; and that she takes it without thereby +incurring any responsibility, and with the power to disavow or retract +it whenever she desires to do so. According to my father, it is the +woman who first declares her passion through the medium of furtive +glances that, later, she disavows to her own conscience if necessary, +and of which he to whom they are directed divines, rather than reads, +the significance. In this manner, by a species of electric shock, by +means of a subtle and inexplicable intuition, he who is loved perceives +that he is loved; and when at last he makes up his mind to declare +himself, he can do so confidently, and in the full security that his +passion is returned. + +Perhaps it is these theories of my father, to which I have listened +because I could not help it, that have heated my fancy and made me +imagine what has no existence in reality. + +Yet, after all, I say to myself at times, Is the thought so absurd, so +incredible, that this illusion should have an existence in reality? And +if it had, if I were pleasing in Pepita's eyes otherwise than as a +friend, if the woman to whom my father is paying his addresses should +fall in love with me, would not my position then be terrible? + +But let us cast away these fears, the creation, no doubt, of vanity. Let +us not make of Pepita a Phædra, or of me a Hippolytus. + +What in reality begins to surprise me is my father's carelessness and +complete consciousness of security. Pardon my pride, ask Heaven to +pardon it; for at times this consciousness of security piques and +offends me. What! I say to myself, is there something so absurd in the +thought that it should not even occur to my father that, notwithstanding +my supposed sanctity, or perhaps because of my supposed sanctity, I +should, without wishing it, inspire Pepita with love? + +There is an ingenious method of reasoning by which I explain to myself, +without wounding my vanity, my father's carelessness in this important +particular. My father, although he has no reason for doing so, begins to +regard himself already in the light of Pepita's husband, and to share in +that fatal blindness with which Asmodeus, or some other yet more +malicious demon, afflicts husbands. Profane and ecclesiastical history +is fall of instances of this blindness, which God permits, no doubt, for +providential purposes. The most remarkable example of it, perhaps, is +that of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who had for wife a woman so vile as +Faustina, and yet so wise a man and so great a philosopher remained in +ignorance to the end of his days of what was known to every one else in +the Roman Empire; so that in the meditations or memoirs of himself that +he composed he gives infinite thanks to the immortal gods for having +bestowed upon him so faithful and so good a wife; thus provoking the +smiles of his contemporaries and of future generations. + +Every day since then we see examples of great men and men of exalted +rank who make those who enjoy the favor of their wives their private +secretaries, and bestow honors on them. Thus do I explain to myself my +father's indifference and his failure to suspect that, even against my +own will, it would be possible for him to find a rival in me. + +Would it be a want of respect on my part, should I fall into the fault +of presumption or insolence, if I were to warn my father of the danger +which he himself does not see? But he gives me no opportunity to say +anything to him. Besides, what could I say to him? That once or twice I +fancy Pepita has looked at me in a way different from that in which she +usually does? May not this be an illusion of mine? No; I have not the +least proof that Pepita desires to play the coquette with me. + +What, then, could I tell my father? Shall I say to him that it is I who +am in love with Pepita; that I covet the treasure he already regards as +his own? This is not the truth; and, above all, how could I tell this to +my father, even if, to my misfortune and through my fault, it were the +truth? + +The best course I can adopt is to say nothing; to combat the temptation +in silence, if it should indeed assail me, and to endeavor, as soon as +possible, to leave this place and return to you. + +_May 19th._ + +I return thanks to Heaven and to you for the letters and the counsels +you have lately sent me. To-day I need them more than ever. + +The mystical and learned St. Theresa is right in dwelling upon the +suffering of timid souls that allow themselves to be disturbed by +temptation; but a thousand times worse than that suffering is the +awakening from error of those who, like me, have permitted themselves to +indulge in arrogance and self-confidence. + +Our bodies are the temples wherein dwells the Holy Spirit; but when +fire is set to the walls of the temple, though they do not burn, yet +they are blackened. + +The first evil thought is the head of the serpent; if we do not crush it +with firm and courageous foot, then will the venomous reptile climb up +and hide himself in our bosom. + +The nectar of earthly joys, however innocent they be, is sweet indeed to +the taste; but afterward it is converted into gall, and into the venom +of the serpent. + +It is true--I can no longer deny it to you--I ought not to have allowed +my eyes to rest with so much complacency on this dangerous woman. + +I do not deem myself lost; but I feel my soul troubled. + +Even as the thirsty hart desires and seeks the water-brooks, so does my +soul still seek God. To God does it turn that he may give it rest; it +longs to drink at the torrent of his delights the gushing forth of which +rejoices paradise, and whose clear waves make whiter than snow but deep +calleth unto deep, and my feet have stuck fast in the mire that is +hidden in their abysses. + +Yet have I still breath and voice to cry out with the psalmist: "Arise, +my joy! if thou dost take my part, who shall prevail against me?" + +I say unto my sinful soul, full of the chimerical imaginations and +sinful desires engendered by unlawful thoughts: "O miserable daughter +of Babylon! happy shall he be who shall give thee thy reward! Happy +shall he be that dasheth thy little ones against the rock!" + +Works of penance, fasting, prayer, and penitence, are the weapons +wherewith I shall arm myself to combat, and, with the Divine help, to +vanquish. + +It was not a dream; it was not madness; it was the truth: she lets her +eyes rest upon me at times with the ardent glance of which I have told +you. There is in her glance an unexplainable magnetic attraction. It +draws me on, it seduces me, and I can not withdraw my gaze from her. On +such occasions my eyes must burn, like hers, with a fatal flame, as did +those of Amnon when he turned them upon Tamar; as did those of the +prince of Shechem when they were fixed upon Dinah. + +When our glances encounter each other thus, I forget even God. Her image +rises up within my soul, the conqueror of everything. Her beauty +outshines all other beauty; the joys of heaven seem to me less desirable +than her affection. An eternity of suffering would be little in exchange +for one moment of the infinite bliss with which one of those glances +that pass like lightning inundates my soul. + +When I return home, when I am alone in my room, in the silence of the +night, I realize all the horror of my position, and I form good +resolutions, only to break them again. + +I resolve to feign sickness, to make use of any pretext so as not to go +to Pepita's on the following night, and yet I go. + +My father, confiding to the last degree, says to me when the hour +arrives, without any suspicion of what is passing in my soul: + +"Go you to Pepita's; I will go later, when I have finished with the +overseer." + +No excuse occurs to me; I can find no pretext for not going, and, +instead of answering, "I can not go," I take my hat and depart. + +On entering the room I shake hands with Pepita, and, as our hands touch, +she casts a spell over me; my whole being is changed; a devouring fire +penetrates my heart, and I think only of her. Moved by an irresistible +impulse, I gaze at her with insane ardor, and at every instant I think I +discover in her new perfections. Now it is the dimples in her cheeks +when she smiles, now the roseate whiteness of her skin, now the straight +outlines of her nose, now the smallness of her ear, now the softness of +contour and the admirable modeling of her throat. + +I enter her house against my will, as though summoned there by a +conjurer, and no sooner am I there than I fall under the spell of her +enchantment. I see clearly that I am in the power of an enchantress, +whose fascination is irresistible. + +Not only is she pleasing to my sight, but her words sound in my ears +like the music of the spheres, revealing to my soul the harmony of the +universe; and I even fancy that a subtle fragrance emanates from her, +sweeter than the perfume of the mint that grows by the brook-side, or +the wood-like odor of the thyme that is found among the hills. + +I know not how, in this state of exaltation, I am able to play _hombre,_ +or to converse rationally, or even to speak, so completely am I absorbed +in her. + +When our glances encounter each other, our souls rush forth in them, and +seem to join and interpenetrate each other. In that meeting a thousand +feelings are communicated that in no other way could be made known; +poems are recited that could be uttered in no human tongue, and songs +are sung that no human voice could sing, no according zither accompany. + +Since the day I met Pepita in the _Pozo de la Solana_, I have not seen +her alone. Although no word has passed between us, yet we have told each +other everything. + +When I withdraw myself from this fascination, when I am again alone at +night in my chamber, I set myself to examine coolly the situation in +which I am placed; I see the abyss that is about to ingulf me, yawning +before me, and I feel my feet slip from under me, and that I am sinking +into it. + +You counsel me to reflect upon death--not on the death of this woman, +but on my own. You counsel me to reflect on the instability, on the +insecurity of our existence, and on what there is beyond it. But these +considerations, these reflections neither terrify nor daunt me. Why +should I, who desire to die, fear death? Love and death are brothers. A +sentiment of self-abnegation springs to life within me, and tells me +that my whole being should be consecrated to and annihilated in the +beloved object. I long to merge myself in one of her glances; to diffuse +and exhale my whole being in the ray of light shot forth from her eyes; +to die while gazing on her, even though I should be eternally lost. + +What is still to some extent efficacious with me against this love is +not fear, but love itself. Superior to this deep-rooted love with which +I now have the evidence that Pepita inspires me, Divine love exalts +itself in my spirit in mighty uprising. Then everything is changed +within me, and I feel that I may yet obtain the victory. The object of +my higher love presents itself to my mental vision, as the sun that +kindles and illuminates all things, and fills all space with light; and +the object of my inferior love appears but as an atom of dust floating +in the sunbeam. All its beauty, all its splendor, all its attraction are +nothing but the reflection of this uncreated sun, the brilliant, +transitory, fleeting spark that is cast off from that infinite and +inexhaustible fire. + +My soul, burning with love, would fain take to herself wings and rise to +that flame, in order that all that is impure within her might be +consumed therein. + +My life, for some days past, is a constant struggle. I know not how it +is that the malady from which I suffer does not betray itself in my +countenance. I scarcely eat; I scarcely sleep. And if by chance sleep +closes my eyelids, I awake in terror as from a dream in which rebel +angels are arrayed against good angels, and in which I am one of the +combatants. In this conflict of light against darkness, I do battle for +the right, but I sometimes imagine that I have gone over to the enemy, +that I am a vile deserter; and I hear a voice from Patmos saying, "And +men preferred darkness rather than light"; and then I am filled with +terror and I look upon myself as lost. No resource is left me but +flight. If, before the end of the month, my father does not go with me, +or consent to my going alone, I shall steal away like a thief, without a +word to any one. + +_May 23d._ + +I am a vile worm, not a man; I am the opprobrium and disgrace of +humanity. I am a hypocrite. + +I have been encompassed by the pangs of death, and the waters of +iniquity have passed over me. + +I am ashamed to write to you, and yet I write. I desire to confess +everything to you. + +I can not turn away from evil. Far from abstaining from going to +Pepita's, I go there each night earlier than the last. It would seem as +if devils took me by the feet and carried me there against my will! + +Happily, I never find Pepita alone; I do not desire to find her alone. I +almost always find there before me the excellent vicar, who attributes +our friendship to similarity of feeling in religious matters, and bases +it on piety, like the pure and innocent friendship he himself entertains +for her. + +The progress of my malady is rapid. Like the stone that is loosened from +the mountain-top and gathers force as it falls, so is it with my spirit +now. + +When Pepita and I shake hands, it is not now as before. Each one of us, +by an effort of the will, transmits to the other, through the handclasp, +every throb of the heart. It is as if, by some diabolical art, we had +effected a transfusion and a blending together of the most subtle +elements our blood. She must feel my life circulate through her veins, +as I feel hers in mine. + +When I am near her, I love her; when I am away from her, I hate her. +When I am in her presence she inspires me with love; she draws me to +her; she subjugates me with gentleness; she lays upon me a very easy +yoke. + +But the recollection of her undoes me. When I dream of her, I dream that +she is severing my head from my body, as Judith slew the captain of the +Assyrians; or that she is driving a nail into my temple, as Jael did to +Sisera. But when I am near her, she appears to me the Spouse of the Song +of Songs, and a voice within me calls to her, and I bless her, and I +regard her as a sealed fountain, as an inclosed garden, as the flower of +the valley, as the lily of the fields, my dove and my sister. + +I desire to free myself from her, and I can not. I abhor, yet I almost +worship her. Her spirit enters into and takes possession of me as soon +as I behold her; it subjugates me, it abases me. + +I leave her house each night, saying, "This is the last night I shall +return here"; and I return there on the following night! + +When she speaks, and I am near, my soul hangs, as it were, upon her +words. When she smiles, I imagine that a ray of spiritual light enters +into my heart and rejoices it. + +It has happened, when playing _hombre_, that our knees have touched by +chance, and then I have felt a thrill run through me impossible to +describe. + +Get me away from this place. Write to my father and ask him to let me +return to you. If it be necessary, tell him everything. Help me! Be you +my refuge! + +_May 30th._ + +God has given me strength to resist, and I have resisted. + +It is now many days since I have been in the house of Pepita, many days +since I have seen her. + +It is scarcely necessary that I should feign sickness, for I am in +reality sick. I have lost my color, and dark circles begin to show +themselves under my eyes; and my father asks me, full of affectionate +anxiety, what the cause of my suffering is, and manifests the deepest +concern in my regard. + +The kingdom of heaven is said to yield to violence, and I am resolved to +conquer it. With violence I call at its gates that they may open to me. + +With wormwood am I fed by the Lord, in order to prove me; and in vain do +I supplicate him to let this cup of bitterness pass away from me. But, +as I have passed and still pass many nights in vigil, delivered up to +prayer, a loving inspiration from the Supreme Consoler has come to +sweeten the bitterness of my cup. + +I have beheld with the eyes of the soul the new country; and the new +song of the heavenly Jerusalem has resounded within the depths of my +heart. + +If in the end I should conquer, glorious will be the victory; but I +shall owe it to the Queen of Angels, under whose protection I place +myself. She is my refuge and my defense; the tower and the house of +David, on whose walls hang innumerable shields and the armor of many +valiant champions; the cedar of Lebanon, that puts to flight the +serpent. + +The woman who inspires me with an earthly love, on the contrary, I +endeavor to despise and abase in my thoughts, remembering the words of +the sage, and applying them to her. + +"Thou art the snare of the hunter," I say to her; "thy heart is a net of +deceit, and thy hands are bands that imprison; he who fears God will +flee from thee, and the sinner shall be taken captive by thee." + +In my meditations on love, I find a thousand reasons for loving God, and +against loving her. + +I feel, in the depths of my heart, an indescribable enthusiasm that +convinces me that for the love of God I would sacrifice all +things--fame, honor, power, dominion. I feel myself capable of imitating +Christ, and if the tempter should carry me off to the mountain-top, and +should there offer me all the kingdoms of the earth if I consented to +bow the knee before him, yet would I not bend it. But were he to offer +me this woman if I should do so, I feel that I should waver, that I +should not reject his offer. Is this woman, then, worth more in my eyes +than all the kingdoms of the earth? More than fame, honor, power, and +dominion? + +Is the virtue of love, I ask myself at times, always the same, even when +applied to diverse objects; or are there two species and qualities of +love? To love God seems to me to be the giving up of self and of selfish +interest. Loving him, I desire to love, and I can love all things +through him, and I am not troubled or jealous because of his love toward +all things. I am not jealous of the saints, or of the martyrs, or of the +blessed, or even of the seraphim. The greater I picture to myself to be +the love of God for his creatures, and the graces and gifts he bestows +upon them, the less am I troubled by jealousy; the more I love him, the +nearer to me do I feel him to be, and the more loving and gracious does +he seem toward me. My brotherhood, my more than brotherhood with all +creatures, stands forth then in a most pleasing light. It seems to me +that I am one with all things, and that all things are bound together in +the bonds of love, through God and in God. + +Very different is it when my thoughts dwell upon Pepita, and on the love +with which she inspires me. This love is a love full of hatred, that +separates me from everything but myself. I desire her for myself, +altogether for myself, and myself altogether for her. Even devotion to +her, even sacrifices made for her sake, partake of the nature of +selfishness. To die for her would be to die of despair at not being able +to possess her in any other manner--from the fear of not enjoying her +love completely, except by dying and commingling with her in an eternal +embrace. + +By these reflections I endeavor to render the love of Pepita hateful to +me. I invest my love in my imagination with something diabolical and +fatal; but, as if I possessed a double soul, a double understanding, a +double will, and a double imagination, in contradiction to this thought, +other feelings rise up within me in its train, and I then deny what I +have just affirmed, and insanely endeavor to reconcile the two loves. +Would it not be possible, I ask myself, to fly from Pepita, and yet +continue to love her, without ceasing therefore to consecrate myself +with fervor to the love of God? For, as the love of God does not +exclude love of country, love of humanity, love of learning, love of +beauty in nature and in art, neither should it exclude another love, if +it be spiritual and immaculate. I will make of her, I say to myself, a +symbol, an allegory, an image of all that is good, of all that is +beautiful. She shall be to me, as Beatrice was to Dante, the image and +the symbol of country, of knowledge, and of beauty. + +This intention suggests to me a horrible fancy, a monstrous thought. In +order to make of Pepita this symbol, this vaporous and ethereal image, +this sign and epitome of all that I can love under God, in God, and +subordinate to God, I picture her to myself dead, as Beatrice was dead +when Dante made her the subject of his song. + +If I picture her to myself among the living, then I am unable to convert +her into a pure idea, and if I convert her into a pure idea, I kill her +in my thoughts. + +Then I weep; I am filled with horror at my crime, and I draw near to her +in spirit, and with the warmth of my heart I bring her back to life +again; and I behold her, not errant, diaphanous, floating in shadowy +outline among roseate clouds and celestial flowers, as the stern +Ghibelline beheld his beloved in the upper sphere of purgatory, but +coherent, solid, clearly defined in the pure and serene air like the +masterpieces of Greek art, like Galatea already animated by the love of +Pygmalion, and descending--full of fire, exhaling love, rich in youth +and beauty--from her pedestal of marble. + +Then I exclaim in the depths of my perturbed heart: "My virtue faints! +My God, do not thou forsake me! Hasten to my help; show thy countenance, +and I shall be saved." + +Thus do I recover strength to resist temptation. Thus again does the +hope spring to life within me, that I shall regain my former +tranquillity when I shall have left this place. + +The devil longs with ardor to swallow up the pure waters of Jordan, by +which are symbolized the persons who are consecrated to God. Hell +conspires against them, and lets loose all her monsters, upon them. St. +Bonaventure says, "We should not wonder that these persons have sinned, +but rather that they have not sinned." + +Notwithstanding, I shall be able to resist and not sin. The Lord will +protect me. + +_June 6th._ + +Pepita's nurse--now her housekeeper--is, as my father says, a good bag +of wrinkles; she is talkative, gay, and skillful, as few are. She +married the son of Master Cencias, and has inherited from the father +what the son did not inherit--a wonderful facility for the mechanical +arts, with this difference; that while Master Cencias could set the +screw of a wine-press, or repair the wheels of a wagon, or make a plow, +this daughter-in-law of his knows how to make sweetmeats, conserves of +honey, and other dainties. The father-in-law practiced the useful arts, +the daughter-in-law those that have for their object pleasure, though +only innocent, or at least lawful pleasure. + +Antoñona--for such is her name--is permitted, or assumes, the greatest +familiarity with all the gentry here. She goes in and out of every house +as if it were her own. She says _thou_ to all the young people of +Pepita's age, or four or five years older; she calls them _niño_ and +_niña,_ and treats them as if she had nursed them at her breast. + +She behaves toward me with the same familiarity; she comes to visit me, +enters my room unannounced, and has asked me several times already why I +no longer go to see her mistress, and has told me that I am wrong in not +going. + +My father, who has no suspicion of the truth, accuses me of +eccentricity; he calls me an owl, and he, too, is determined that I +shall resume my visits to Pepita. Last night I could no longer resist +his repeated importunities, and I went to her house very early, as my +father was about to settle his accounts with the overseer. + +Would God I had not gone! + +Pepita was alone. When our glances met, when we saluted each other, we +both turned red. We shook hands with timidity and in silence. + +I did not press her hand, nor did she press mine, but for a moment we +held them clasped together. + +In Pepita's glance, as she looked at me, there was nothing of love; +there was only friendship, sympathy, and a profound sadness. + +She had divined the whole of my inward struggle; she was persuaded that +divine love had triumphed in my soul; that my resolution not to love her +was firm and invincible. + +She did not venture to complain of me; she had no reason to complain of +me; she knew that right was on my side. A sigh, scarcely perceptible, +that escaped from her dewy, parted lips, revealed to me the depth of her +sorrow. + +Her hand still lay in mine; we were both silent. How say to her that she +was not destined for me, nor I for her; that we must part forever? + +But, though my lips refused to tell her this in words, I told it to her +with my eyes; my severe glance confirmed her fears; it convinced her of +the irrevocableness of my decision. + +All at once her gaze was troubled; her lovely countenance, pale with a +translucent pallor, was contracted with a touching expression of +melancholy. She looked like Our Lady of Sorrows. Two tears rose slowly +to her eyes, and began to steal down her cheeks. + +I know not what passed within me--and how describe it, even if I knew? + +I bent toward her to kiss away her tears, and our lips met in a kiss. + +A rapture unspeakable, a faintness full of peril, invaded our whole +being. She would have fallen, but that I supported her in my arms. + +Heaven willed that we should at this moment hear the step and the cough +of the reverend vicar, who was approaching, and we instantly drew apart. + +Recovering myself, and summoning all the strength of my will, I brought +to an end this terrible scene, that had been enacted in silence, with +these words, which I pronounced in low and intense accents: + +"The first and the last!" + +I made allusion to our profane kiss, but, as if my words had been an +invocation, there rose before me the vision of the Apocalypse in all its +terrible majesty. I beheld Him who is indeed the First and the Last, +and, with the two-edged sword that proceeded from his mouth, he pierced +my soul, full of evil, of wickedness, and of sin. + +All that evening I passed in a species of frenzy, an inward delirium, +that I know not how I was able to conceal. + +I withdrew from Pepita's house very early. + +The anguish of my soul was yet more poignant in solitude. + +When I recalled that kiss, and those words of farewell, I compared +myself with the traitor Judas, who made use of a kiss to betray; and +with the sanguinary and treacherous assassin Joab, who plunged the sharp +steel into the bowels of Amasa while in the act of kissing him. + +I had committed a double treason; I had been guilty of a double perfidy. +I had sinned against God and against her. + +I am an execrable wretch. + +_June 11th._ + +Everything may still be remedied. + +Pepita will, in time, forget her love and the weakness of which we were +guilty. + +Since that night I have not returned to her house. Antoñona has not made +her appearance in ours. + +By dint of entreaties I have obtained a formal promise from my father +that we shall leave here on the 25th, the day after St. John's day, +which is here celebrated with splendid feasts, and on the eve of which +there is a famous vigil. + +Absent from Pepita, I begin to recover my serenity, and to think that +this first appearance of love was a trial of my virtue. + +All these nights I have prayed, I have watched, I have performed many +works of penance. + +The persistence of my prayers, the deep contrition of my soul, have +found favor with the Lord, who has manifested to me his great mercy. + +The Lord, in the words of the prophet, has sent fire to the stronghold +of my spirit, he has illuminated my understanding, he has kindled my +resolution, and he has given me instruction. The working of the Divine +love which animates the Supreme Will has had power, at times, without my +deserving it, to lead me to that condition of prayerful contemplation in +which all the faculties of the soul are in repose. I have cast out from +the lower faculties of my soul every species of image--even her image; +and I am persuaded, if vanity does not deceive me, that, mind and heart +in reconciliation, I have known and enjoyed the Supreme Good that dwells +within the depths of the soul. + +Compared with this good, all else is worthless; compared with this +beauty, all else is deformity. Who would not forget and scorn every +other love for the love of God? + +Yes, the profane image of this woman shall depart, finally and forever, +from my soul. I shall make of my prayers and of my penance a sharp +scourge, and with it I will expel her therefrom, as Christ expelled the +money-lenders from the temple. + +_June 18th._ + +This is the last letter I shall write to you. On the 25th I shall leave +this place without fail. + +I shall soon have the happiness of embracing you. Near you I shall be +stronger; you will infuse courage into me, and lend me the energy in +which I am wanting. + +A tempest of conflicting emotions is raging now in my soul. The disorder +of my ideas may be known by the disorder of what I write. + +Twice I returned to the house of Pepita. I was cold and stern. I was as +I ought to have been, but how much did it not cost me! + +My father told me yesterday that Pepita was indisposed, and would not +receive. + +The thought at once assailed me that the cause of her indisposition +might be her ill-requited love. + +Why did I return her glances of fire? Why did I basely deceive her? Why +did I make her believe I loved her? Why did my vile lips seek hers with +ardor, and communicate the ardor of an unholy love to hers? + +But no; my sin shall not be followed, as its unavoidable consequence, by +another sin! + +What has been, has been, and can not be undone; but a repetition of it +may be avoided, shall be avoided in future. + +On the 25th, I repeat, I shall depart from here without fail. + +The impudent Antoñona has just come to see me. I hid this letter from +her, as if it were a crime to write to you. + +Antoñona remained here only for a moment. + +I arose, and remained standing while I spoke to her, that the visit +might be a short one. + +During this short visit she gave utterance to a thousand absurdities +that afflict me profoundly. Finally, as she was going away, she +exclaimed, in her half-gypsy jargon: + +"Get away, you deceiver! you villain! my curse upon you! You have made +the child sick, and now you are killing her with your subterfuges. May +witches fly away with you, body and bones!" + +Having said this, the fiendish woman gave me, in a coarse plebeian +fashion, six or seven ferocious pinches below the shoulders, as if she +would like to tear the skin from my back in strips; and then went away, +looking daggers at me. + +I do not complain. I deserve this brutal jest, granting it to be a jest. +I deserve that fiends should tear my flesh with red-hot pincers. + +Grant, my God, that Pepita may forget me; let her, if it be necessary, +love another, and be happy with him! + +Can I do more than ask thee this, O my God? + +My father knows nothing, suspects nothing; it is better thus. + +Farewell for a few days, till we see and embrace each other again. + +How changed will you find me! How full of bitterness my heart! How lost +my innocence! How bruised and wounded my soul! + + + + +II. + +PARALIPOMENA. + + +Here end the letters of Don Luis de Vargas. We should therefore be left +in ignorance of the subsequent fortunes of these lovers, and this simple +and ardent love-story would have remained without an ending, if one +familiar with all the circumstances had not left us the following +narrative: + +No one in the village found anything strange in the fact of Pepita's +being indisposed, or thought, still less, of attributing her +indisposition to a cause of which only we, Pepita herself, Don Luis, the +reverend dean, and the discreet Antoñona, are thus far cognizant. + +They might rather have wondered at the life, of gayety that Pepita had +been leading for some time past, at the daily gatherings at her house, +and the excursions into the country in which she had joined. That Pepita +should return to her habitual seclusion was quite natural. + +Her secret and deeply rooted love for Don Luis was hidden from the +searching glances of Doña Casilda, of Currito, and of all the other +personages of the village of whom mention is made in the letters of Don +Luis. Still less could the public know of it. It never entered into the +head, of any one--no one imagined for a moment that the theologian, the +_saint,_ as they called Don Luis, could become the rival of his father, +or could have succeeded where the redoubtable and powerful Don Pedro de +Vargas had failed--in winning the heart of the lovely, graceful, coy, +and reserved young widow. + +Notwithstanding the familiarity of the ladies of the village with their +servants, Pepita had allowed none of hers to suspect anything. Only the +lynx-eyed Antoñona, whom nothing could escape, and more especially +nothing that concerned her young mistress, had penetrated the mystery. + +Antoñona did not conceal her discovery from Pepita, nor could Pepita +deny the truth to the woman who had nursed her, who idolized her, and +who, if she delighted in finding out and gossiping about all that took +place in the village, being, as she was, a model scandal-monger, was +yet, in all that related to her mistress, reticent and loyal as but few +are. + +In this manner Antoñona made herself the confidante of Pepita; and +Pepita found great consolation in unburdening her heart to one who, +though she might be cross and vulgar in the frankness with which she +expressed her sentiments, was not so either in the sentiments or the +ideas that she expressed. + +In this may be found the explanation of Antoñona's visits to Don Luis, +as well as of her words, and even of the ferocious and disrespectful +pinches, given in so ill-chosen a spot, with which she bruised his flesh +and wounded his dignity, on the occasion of her last visit to him. + +Not only had Pepita not desired Antoñona to carry messages to Don Luis, +but she did not even know that she had gone to see him. Antoñona had +taken the initiative, and had interfered in the matter simply because +she herself had wanted to do so. + +As we have already said, she had, with wonderful perspicacity, made +herself acquainted with the state of affairs between her mistress and +Don Luis. + +While Pepita herself was still scarcely conscious of the fact that she +loved Don Luis, Antoñona already knew it. Scarcely had Pepita begun to +cast on him those furtive glances, ardent and involuntary, that had +wrought such havoc--glances which had been intercepted by none of those +present when they were given--than Antoñona, who was not present, had +already spoken of them to Pepita. And no sooner had those glances been +returned in kind, than Antoñona also knew it. + +There was but little left, then, for the mistress to confide to a +servant of so much penetration, and who was so skilled in divination of +what passed in the inmost recesses of her breast. + + * * * * * + +Five days after the date of Don Luis's last letter, our narrative +begins. + +It was eleven o'clock in the morning. Pepita was in an apartment on an +upper floor, contiguous to her bedroom and dressing-room, where no one +ever entered without being summoned, save Antoñona. + +The furniture of this apartment was simple, but comfortable and in good +taste. The curtains and the covering of the easy-chairs, the sofas and +the arm-chairs, were of a flowered cotton fabric. On a mahogany table +were writing materials and papers, and in a book-case, also of mahogany, +were many books of devotion and history. The walls were adorned with +pictures--engravings on religious subjects, but with this particularity +in their selection, unheard-of, extraordinary, almost incredible in an +Andalusian village, that, instead of being bad French lithographs, they +were engravings in the best style of Spanish art, as the _Spasimo di +Sicilia_, of Rafael; the _St. Ildefonso and the Virgin_, the +_Conception_, the _St. Bernard_, and the two _Lunettes_ of Murillo. + +On an antique oak table, supported by fluted columns, was a small +writing-desk, or escritoire, inlaid with shell, mother-of-pearl, ivory, +and brass, and containing a great many little drawers, in which Pepita +kept bills and other papers. On this table were also two porcelain vases +filled with flowers; and, finally, hanging against the walls, were +several flower-pots of Seville Carthusian ware, containing ivy, +geranium, and other plants, and three gilded cages, in which were +canaries and larks. + +This apartment was the retreat of Pepita, where no one entered during +the daytime except the doctor and the reverend vicar, and, in the +evening, only the overseer to settle accounts. This apartment was called +the library, and served the purpose of one. + +Pepita was seated, half reclining, on a sofa, before which stood a small +table with some books upon it. + +She had just risen, and was attired in a light summer wrapper. Her +blonde hair, not yet arranged, looked even more beautiful in its +disorder. Her countenance, somewhat pale, and, although it still +preserved its fresh and youthful aspect, showing dark circles under the +eyes, looked more beautiful than ever under the influence of the malady, +that robbed it of color. + +Pepita showed signs of impatience; she was waiting for some one. + +At last the person she was awaiting, who proved to be the reverend +vicar, arrived, and entered without announcement. + +After the usual salutations the reverend vicar settled himself +comfortably in an easy-chair, and the conversation thus began: + +"I am very glad, my child, that you sent for me; but, even without your +doing so, I was just coming to see you. How pale you are! What is it +that ails you? Have you something of importance to tell me?" + +Pepita began her answer to this series of affectionate inquiries with a +deep sigh; she then said: + +"Do you not divine my malady? Have you not discovered the cause of my +suffering?" + +The vicar made a gesture of denial, and looked at Pepita with something +like terror in his gaze; for he knew nothing of all that had taken +place, and was struck by the vehemence with which she spoke. + +Pepita continued: + +"I ought not to have sent for you, father. I should have gone to the +church myself instead, to speak with you in the confessional, and there +confess my sins. But, unhappily, far from repenting of them my heart has +hardened itself in wickedness. I have neither the courage nor the +desire to speak to the confessor, but only to the friend." + +"What are you saying about sins and hardness of heart? Have you taken +leave of your senses? What sins can you have committed, you who are so +good?" + +"No, father, I am not good. I have been deceiving you; I have been +deceiving myself; I have tried to deceive God." + +"Come, come, calm yourself; speak with moderation and common sense, and +don't talk foolishly." + +"And how shall I avoid talking foolishly when the spirit of evil +possesses me?" + +"Holy Virgin! Don't talk nonsense, child; the demons most to be feared +that take possession of the soul are three, and none of them, I am +certain, can have dared to enter into yours. One is Leviathan, or the +spirit of Pride; the other is Mammon, or the spirit of Avarice; and the +other is Asmodeus or the spirit of Unholy Love." + +"Well, I am the victim of all three; all three hold dominion over me." + +"This is dreadful! Calm yourself, I repeat. The real trouble with you is +that you are out of your head." + +"Would to God it were so! The contrary, unhappily for me, is the case. I +am avaricious, because I possess riches, and do not perform the works +of charity I ought to perform; I am proud, because I scorn the addresses +of my many suitors, not through virtue, not through modesty, but because +I thought them unworthy of my love. God has punished me; God has +permitted the third enemy you have named to take possession of me." + +"How is this, child? What diabolical notion has entered into your mind? +Have you by chance fallen in love? And, if you have, what harm is there +in that? Are you not free? Get married, then, and stop talking nonsense. +I am certain it is my friend Don Pedro de Vargas who has wrought the +miracle. That same Don Pedro is the very devil! I confess I am +surprised, though. I did not think matters had gone quite so far as that +already." + +"But it is not Don Pedro de Vargas I am in love with." + +"And with whom, then?" + +Pepita rose from her seat, went to the door, opened it, looked to see if +any one was listening outside, drew near to the reverend vicar, and, +with signs of the deepest distress, in a trembling voice, and with tears +in her eyes, said, almost in the ear of the good old man: + +"I am hopelessly in love with his son." + +"With whose son?" cried the reverend vicar, who could not yet bring +himself to believe what he had heard. + +"With whose son should it be? I am hopelessly, desperately in love with +Don Luis." + +Consternation and dolorous surprise were depicted on the countenance of +the kind and simple priest. There was a moment's pause; the vicar then +said: + +"But this is a love without hope; a love not to be thought of. Don Luis +will not love you in return." + +In the midst of the tears that clouded the beautiful eyes of Pepita +gleamed a joyful light; her rosy, dewy lips, contracted by sorrow, +parted in a smile, disclosing to view her pearly teeth. + +"He loves me," said Pepita, with a faint and ill-concealed accent of +satisfaction and triumph that rose exultant over her sorrow and her +scruples of conscience. + +The consternation and the astonishment of the reverend vicar here +reached their highest pitch. If the saint to whom he paid his most +fervent devotions had been suddenly cast down from the altar before him, +and had fallen, broken into a thousand fragments at his feet, the +reverend vicar could not have felt greater consternation than he did. He +still looked at Pepita with incredulity, as if doubting whether what she +had said were true, or only a delusion of feminine vanity, so firmly +did he believe in the holiness of Don Luis, and in his +spiritual-mindedness. + +"He loves me," Pepita repeated, in answer to his incredulous glance. + +"Women are worse than the very devil!" said the vicar. "You would set a +snare for the old boy himself." + +"Did I not tell you already that I was very wicked?" + +"Come, come! calm yourself. The mercy of God is infinite. Tell me all +that has happened." + +"What should have happened? That he is dear to me; that I love him; that +I adore him; that he loves me, too, although he strives to conquer his +love, and, in the end, may succeed in doing so; and that you, without +knowing it, are very much to blame for it all!" + +"Well, this caps the climax! What do you mean by saying I am very much +to blame?" + +"With the extreme goodness that is characteristic of you, you have done +nothing but praise Don Luis to me; and I am sure that you have +pronounced still greater eulogies on me to him, although very much less +deserved. What is the natural consequence? Am I of bronze? Have I not +the passions of youth?" + +"You are more than right; I am a dolt: I have contributed, in great +part, to this work of Lucifer." + +The reverend vicar was so truly good, and so full of humility, that, +while pronouncing the preceding words, he showed as much confusion and +remorse as if he were the culprit and Pepita the judge. + +Pepita, conscious of her injustice and want of generosity in thus making +the reverend vicar the accomplice, and scarcely less than the chief +author of her fault, spoke to him thus: + +"Don't torment yourself, father; for God's sake, don't torment yourself! +You see now how perverse I am. I commit the greatest sins, and I want to +throw the responsibility of them on the best and the most virtuous of +men. It is not the praises you have recited to me of Don Luis that have +been my ruin, but my own eyes, and my want of circumspection. Even +though you had never spoken to me of the good qualities of Don Luis, I +should still have discovered them all by hearing him speak; for, after +all, I am not so ignorant, nor so great a fool. And, in any case, I +myself have seen the grace of his person, the natural and untaught +elegance of his manners, his eyes full of fire and intelligence, his +whole self, in a word, which seems to me altogether amiable and +desirable. Your eulogies of him have indeed pleased my vanity, but they +did not awaken my inclinations. Your praises charmed me because they +coincided with my own opinion, and were like the flattering +echo--deadened, indeed, and faint--of my thoughts. The most eloquent +encomium you have pronounced, in my hearing, on Don Luis, was far from +being equal to the encomiums that I, at each moment, at each instant, +silently pronounced upon him in my own soul." + +"Don't excite yourself, child," interrupted the reverend vicar. + +Pepita continued, with still greater exaltation: + +"But what a difference between your encomiums and my thoughts! For you +Don Luis was the exemplary model of the priest, the missionary, the +apostle, now preaching the gospel in distant lands, now endeavoring in +Spain to elevate Christianity, so degraded in our day through the +impiety of some, and the want of virtue, of charity, and of knowledge, +of others. I, on the contrary, pictured him to myself handsome, loving, +forgetting God for me, consecrating his life to me, giving me his soul, +becoming my stay, my support, my sweet companion. I longed to commit a +sacrilegious theft: I dreamed of stealing him from God and from his +temple, like the thief who, proclaiming himself the enemy of Heaven, +robs the sacred monstrance of its most precious jewel. To commit this +theft I have put off the mourning garments of the widow and orphan, and +have decked myself with profane adornments; I have abandoned my +seclusion, and I have sought and gathered around me society. I have +tried to make myself look beautiful; I have cared for every part of this +miserable body--that must one day be lowered into the grave, and be +converted into dust--with an unholy devotion; and, finally, I have +looked at Don Luis with provoking glances, and on shaking hands with him +I have sought to transmit from my veins to his, the inextinguishable +fire that is consuming me." + +"Alas! my child, what grief it gives me to hear this! Who could have +imagined it?" said the vicar. + +"But there is still more," resumed Pepita; "I succeeded in making Don +Luis love me. He declared it to me with his eyes. Yes, his love is as +profound, as ardent as mine. His virtues, his aspirations toward +heavenly things, his manly energy, have all urged him to conquer this +insensate passion. I sought to prevent this. One day, at the end of many +days during which he had stayed away, he came to see me, and found me +alone. When he gave me his hand, I wept; I could not speak, but hell +inspired me with an accursed, mute eloquence that told him of my grief +that he had scorned me, that he did not return my love, that he +preferred another love--a love without stain--to mine. Then he was +unable to resist the temptation, and he approached his lips to my face +to kiss away my tears. Our lips met. If God had not willed that you +should approach at that moment, what would have become of me?" + +"How shameful! my child, how shameful!" said the reverend vicar. + +Pepita covered her face with both hands and began to sob like a +Magdalen. Her hands were, in truth, beautiful, more beautiful even than +Don Luis had described them to be in his letters. Their whiteness, their +pure transparency, the tapering form of the fingers, the roseate hue, +the polish and the brilliancy of the pearl-like nails, all were such as +might turn the head of any man. + +The virtuous vicar could understand, notwithstanding his eighty years, +the fall, or rather the slip, of Don Luis. + +"Child!" he exclaimed, "don't cry so! It breaks my heart to see you. +Calm yourself; Don Luis has no doubt repented of his sin; do you repent +likewise, and nothing more need be said. God will pardon you both, and +make a couple of saints of you. Since Don Luis is going away the day +after to-morrow, it is a sure sign that virtue has triumphed in him, and +that he flies from you, as he should, that he may do penance for his +sin, fulfill his vow, and return to his vocation." + +"That is all very well," replied Pepita; "fulfill his vow, return to his +vocation, after giving me my death-wound! Why did he love me, why did he +encourage me, why did he deceive me? His kiss was a brand, it was as a +hot iron with which he marked me and stamped me as his slave. Now that I +am marked and enslaved, he abandons and betrays and destroys me. A good +beginning to give to his missions, his preachings, and gospel triumphs! +It shall not be! By Heaven, it shall not be!" + +This outbreak of anger and scorned love confounded the reverend vicar. + +Pepita had risen. Her attitude, her gesture, had something in them of +tragic animation. Her eyes gleamed like daggers; they shone like two +suns. The vicar was silent, and regarded her almost with terror. She +paced with hasty steps up and down the apartment. She did not now seem +like a timid gazelle, but like an angry lioness. + +"What!" she said, once more facing the vicar, "has he nothing to do but +laugh at me, tear my heart to pieces, humiliate it, trample it under +foot, after having cheated me out of it? He shall remember me! He shall +pay me for this! If he is so holy, if he is so virtuous, why did he, +with his glance, promise me everything? If he loves God so much, why +does he seek to hurt one of God's poor creatures? Is this charity? Is +this religion? No; it is pitiless selfishness." + +Pepita's anger could not last long. After she had spoken the last words, +it turned to dejection. She sank into a chair, weeping bitterly, and +abandoning herself to an anguish heart-breaking to witness. + +The vicar's heart was touched with pity; but he recovered himself on +seeing that the enemy gave signs of yielding. + +"Pepita, child," he said, "be reasonable; don't torment yourself in this +way. Console yourself with the thought that it was not without a hard +struggle he was able to conquer himself; that he has not deceived you; +that he loves you with his whole soul, but that God and his duty come +first. This life is short, and soon passes. In heaven you will be +reunited, and will love each other, as the angels love. God will accept +your sacrifice; he will reward you, and repay you with interest. Even +your self-love ought to be satisfied. How great must be your merit, when +you have caused a man like Don Luis to waver in his resolution, and even +to sin! How deep must be the wound you have made in his heart! Let this +suffice you. Be generous! be courageous! Be his rival in firmness. Let +him depart; cast out from your heart the fire of impure love; love him +as your neighbor, for the love of God. Guard his image in your memory, +but as that of the creature, reserving to the Creator the noblest part +of your soul. I know not what I am saying to you, my child, for I am +very much troubled; but you have a great deal of intelligence and a +great deal of common sense, and you will understand what I mean. +Besides, there are powerful worldly reasons against this absurd love, +even if the vocation and the vow of Don Luis were not opposed to it. His +father is your suitor. He aspires to your hand, even though you do not +love him. Does it look well that the son should turn out now to be the +rival of his father? Will not the father be displeased with the son for +loving you? See how dreadful all this is, and control yourself for the +sake of Jesus and his blessed Mother." + +"How easy it is to give advice!" returned Pepita, becoming a little +calmer. "How hard for me to follow it, when there is a fierce and +unchained tempest, as it were, raging in my soul! I am afraid I shall go +mad." + +"The advice I give you is for your own good. Let Don Luis depart. +Absence is a great remedy for the malady of love. In giving himself up +to his studies, and consecrating himself to the service of the altar, he +will be cured of his passion. When he is far away, you will recover your +serenity by degrees, and will preserve in your memory only a grateful +and melancholy recollection of him that will do you no harm. It will be +like a beautiful poem whose music will harmonize your existence. Even if +all your desires could be fulfilled--earthly love lasts, after all, but +a short time. The delight the imagination anticipates in its +enjoyment--what is it in comparison with the bitter dregs that remain +behind, when the cup has been drained to the bottom? How much better is +it that your love, hardly yet contaminated, hardly despoiled of its +purity, should be dissipated, and exhale itself now, rising up to heaven +like a cloud of incense, than that, after it is once satisfied, it +should perish through satiety! Have the courage to put away from your +lips the cup while you have hardly tasted of its contents. Make of them +a libation and an offering to the Divine Redeemer. He will give you, in +exchange, the draught he offered to the Samaritan--a draught that does +not satiate, that quenches the thirst, and that produces eternal life." + +"How good you are, father! Your holy words lend me courage. I will +control myself; I will conquer myself. It would be shameful--would it +not?--that Don Luis should be able to control and conquer himself, and +that I should not be able to do so? Let him depart. He is going away the +day after to-morrow; let him go with God's blessing. See his card. He +was here with his father to take leave of me, and I would not receive +him. I do not even want to preserve the poetical remembrance of him of +which you speak. This love has been a nightmare; I will cast it away +from me." + +"Good! very good! It is thus that I want to see you--energetic, +courageous." + +"Ah, father, God has cast down my pride with this blow. I was insolent +in my arrogance, and the scorn of this man was necessary to my +self-abasement. Could I be more humbled or more resigned than I am now? +Don Luis is right: I am not worthy of him. However great the efforts I +might make, I could not succeed in elevating myself to him and +comprehending him, in putting my spirit into perfect communication with +his. I am a rude country girl, unlearned, uncultured; and he--there is +no science he does not understand, no secret of which he is ignorant, no +region of the intellectual world, however exalted, to which he may not +soar. Thither on the wings of his genius does he mount; and me he leaves +behind in this lower sphere, poor, ignorant woman that I am, incapable +of following him even in my hopes or with my aspirations." + +"But, Pepita, for Heaven's sake don't say such things, or think them! +Don Luis does not scorn you because you are ignorant, or because you are +incapable of comprehending him, or for any other of those absurd reasons +that you are stringing together. He goes away because he must fulfill +his obligation toward God; and you should rejoice that he is going away, +for you will then forget your love for him, and God will reward you for +the sacrifice you make." + + * * * * * + +Pepita, who had left off crying, and had dried her tears with her +handkerchief, answered quietly: + +"Very well, father; I shall be very glad of it; I am almost glad now +that he is going away. I long for to-morrow to pass, and for the time to +come when Antoñona shall say to me on wakening, 'Don Luis is gone.' You +shall see then how peace and serenity will spring up again in my heart." + +"God grant it may be so!" said the reverend vicar; and, convinced that +he had wrought a miracle and almost cured Pepita's malady, he took leave +of her and went home, unable to repress a certain feeling of vanity at +the thought of the influence he had exercised over the noble spirit of +this charming woman. + +Pepita, who had risen as the reverend vicar was about to take his leave, +after she had closed the door, stood for a moment immovable in the +middle of the room, her gaze fixed on space, her eyes tearless. A poet +or an artist, seeing her thus, would have been reminded of Ariadne, as +Catullus describes her, after Theseus has abandoned her on the island +of Naxos. All at once, as if she had but just succeeded in untying the +knot of a cord that was strangling her, Pepita broke into heart-rending +sobs, let loose a torrent of tears, and threw herself down on the tiled +floor of her apartment. There, her face buried in her hands, her hair +unbound, her dress disordered, she continued to sigh and moan. + +She might have remained thus for an indefinite time if Antoñona had not +come to her. Antoñona had heard her sobs from without and hurried to her +apartment. When she saw her mistress extended on the floor, Antoñona +gave way to a thousand extravagant expressions of fury. + +"Here's a pretty sight!" she cried; "that sneak, that blackguard, that +old fool, what a way he has to console his friends! I shouldn't wonder +if he has committed some piece of barbarity--given a couple of kicks to +this poor child, perhaps; and now I suppose he has gone back to the +church to get everything ready to sing the funeral chant, and sprinkle +her with hyssop, and bury her out of sight without more ado." + +Antoñona was about forty, and a hard worker--energetic, and stronger +than many a laborer. She often lifted up, with scarcely more than the +strength of her hand, a skin of oil or of wine, weighing nearly ninety +pounds, and placed it on the back of a mule, or carried a bag of wheat +up to the garret where the grain was kept. Although Pepita was not a +feather, Antoñona now lifted her up in her arms from the floor as if she +had been one, and placed her carefully on the sofa, as though she were +some delicate and precious piece of porcelain that she feared to break. + +"What is the meaning of all this?" asked Antoñona. "I wager anything +that drone of a vicar has been preaching you a sermon as bitter as +aloes, and has left you now with your heart torn to pieces with grief." + +Pepita continued to weep and sob without answering. + +"Come, leave off crying, and tell me what is the matter. What has the +vicar said to you?" + +"He said nothing that could offend me," finally answered Pepita. + +Then, seeing that Antoñona was waiting anxiously to hear her speak, and +feeling the need of unburdening herself to some one who could sympathize +more fully with her, and, humanly speaking, could better comprehend her +than the vicar, Pepita spoke as follows: + +"The reverend vicar has admonished me gently to repent of my sins; to +allow Don Luis to go away; to rejoice at his departure; to forget him. I +have said yes to everything; I have promised him to rejoice at Don +Luis's departure; I have tried to forget him, and even to hate him. But +look you, Antoñona, I can not; it is an undertaking superior to my +strength. While the vicar was here, I thought I had strength for +everything; but no sooner had he gone than, as if God had let go his +hold of me, I lost my courage, and fell, crushed with sorrow, on the +floor. I had dreamed of a happy life at the side of the man I love; I +already saw myself elevated to him by the miraculous power of love; my +poor mind in perfect communion with his sublime intellect; my will one +with his; both thinking the same thought; our hearts beating in unison. +And now God has taken him away from me, and I am left alone, without +hope or consolation. Is not this frightful? The arguments of the +reverend vicar are just and full of wisdom; for the time, they convinced +me. But he has gone away, and all those arguments now seem to me +worthless--a tissue of words, lies, entanglements, and sophistries. I +love Don Luis, and this argument is more powerful than all other +arguments put together. And if he loves me in return, why does he not +leave everything and come to me, break the vows he has taken, and +renounce the obligations he has contracted? I did not know what love +was; now I know; there is nothing stronger on earth or in heaven. What +would I not do for Don Luis? And he--he does nothing for me! Perhaps he +does not love me. No; Don Luis does not love me. I have deceived +myself; I was blinded by vanity. If Don Luis loved me, he would +sacrifice his plans, his vows, his fame, his aspirations to be a saint +and a light of the Church, he would sacrifice all to me. God forgive me, +what I am about to say is horrible, but I feel it here in the depths of +my heart, it burns here in my fevered brow: for him I would give even +the salvation of my soul!" + +"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Antoñona. + +"It is true; may our blessed Lady of Sorrows pardon me--I am mad--I know +not what I say. I blaspheme!" + +"Yes, child; you are talking indeed a little naughtily. Heaven help us! +To think how this cox-comb of a theologian has turned your head! Well, +if I were in your place, I would not take Heaven to task, which is in no +wise to blame, but this jackanapes of a collegian, and I would have it +out with him, or never again call myself Pepita Ximenez. I should like +to go hunt him up, and bring him here to you by the ear, and make him go +down on his knees before you, and beg your pardon." + +"No, Antoñona; I see that my madness is contagious, and that you are +raving, too. There is, in fact, nothing left for me to do but what the +reverend vicar advises. And I will do it, even though it should cost me +my life. If I die for him, he will then love me; he will cherish my +image in his memory, my love in his heart; and God, who is so good, will +permit me to see him again in heaven with the eyes of the soul, and will +let our spirits mingle together and love each other there." + +Antoñona, although of a rugged nature, and not at all sentimental, on +hearing these words felt the tears start to her eyes. + +"Good gracious, child!" she said; "do you want to make me take out my +handkerchief and begin to bellow like a calf? Calm yourself, and don't +talk about dying, even in jest. I can see that your nerves are very much +excited. Shan't I bring you a cup of linden tea?" + +"No, thanks; leave me; you see how calm I am now." + +"I shall close the window, then, to see if you can sleep. How should you +feel well, when you have not slept for days? The devil take that same +Don Luis, with his fancy for making himself a priest! A nice price you +are paying for it!" + +Pepita had closed her eyes; she was calm and silent, weary now of her +colloquy with Antoñona. + +The latter, either thinking she was asleep, or hoping her to be so, bent +over Pepita, imprinted a kiss softly and slowly on her white forehead, +smoothed oat the folds of her dress, arranged the windows so as to leave +the room in semi-obscurity, and went out on tiptoe, closing the door +behind her without making the slightest noise. + + * * * * * + +While these things were taking place at the house of Pepita, Don Luis de +Vargas in his was neither happier nor more tranquil than was she +herself. + +His father, who scarcely let a day pass without riding out into the +country, had to-day wished to take Don Luis with him; but, with the +pretext of a headache, he had excused himself, and Don Pedro had gone +without him. Don Luis had spent the whole morning alone, delivered up to +his melancholy thoughts, and continuing firm as a rock in his resolution +of blotting from his soul the image of Pepita, and of consecrating +himself wholly to God. + +Let it not be supposed, however, that he did not love the young widow. +We have already, in his letters, seen the proof of the vehemence of his +passion for her, but he continued his efforts to curb it by means of the +devout sentiments and elevated reflections of which he has given us in +his letters so extended a specimen, and of which we may here omit a +repetition, in order not to appear prolix. + +Perhaps, if we examine into this matter closely, we shall find that the +reasons which militated in the breast of Don Luis against his love for +Pepita were not only his vow to himself, which, though unconfirmed, was +binding in his eyes, or the love of God, or respect for his father, +whose rival he did not wish to be, or, finally, the vocation which he +felt himself to have for the priesthood. There were other reasons of a +more doubtful character than these. + +Don Luis was stubborn; he was obstinate; he had that quality of soul +which, well directed, constitutes what is called firmness of character, +and there was nothing that lowered him more in his own eyes than to feel +himself obliged to change his opinions or his conduct. The purpose of +his life, a purpose which he had declared and maintained on all +occasions, his moral ideal, in a word, was that of an aspirant to +holiness, of a man consecrated to God, of one imbued with the sublimest +religious teachings. All this could not fall to earth, as it would fall, +if he allowed himself to be carried away by his love for Pepita, without +great discredit. Although the price, indeed, was in this case +incomparably higher, yet Don Luis felt that, should he yield to his +passion, he would be following the example of Esau, selling his +birthright and bringing opprobrium on his name. + +Men, as a rule, allow themselves to be the plaything of circumstances; +they let themselves be carried along by the current of events, instead +of devoting all their energies to one single aim. We do not choose our +part in life, but accept and play the part allotted us, that which blind +fortune assigns to us. The profession, the political faith, the entire +life of many men depend on chance circumstances, on what is fortuitous, +on the caprice and the unexpected turns of fate. + +Against all this the pride of Don Luis rebelled with titanic power. What +would be thought of him, and above all, what would he think of himself +if the ideal of his life, the new man that he had created in his soul, +if all his plans of virtue, of honor, and even of holy ambition, should +vanish in an instant, should melt away in the warmth of a glance, at the +fugitive flame of a pair of beautiful eyes, as the hoar-frost melts in +the yet mild ray of the morning sun? + +These and other reasons of a like egotistic nature also militated, in +the breast of Don Luis, side by side with more weighty and legitimate +ones, against the widow; but every argument clothed itself in the same +religious garb, so that Don Luis himself was unable to recognize and +distinguish between them, believing to be the love of God not only what +was in truth the love of God, but also self-love. He recalled to mind, +for instance, the examples of many saints who had resisted greater +temptations than his, and he did not wish to be less than they. And he +recalled to mind, above all, the notable firmness of St. Chrysostom, who +was able to disregard the caresses of a tender and good mother, and her +tears and gentle entreaties, and all the eloquent and touching words she +spoke to him, in the very room where he was born, to the end that he +might not abandon her and become a priest. And, after reflecting on +this, Don Luis could not tolerate in himself the weakness of being +unable to scorn the entreaties of a woman who was a stranger to him, +whom he had known for so short a time, and of still wavering between his +duty and the attractions of one who was, perhaps, after all, rather than +enamored of him, merely a coquette. + +Don Luis then reflected on the supreme elevation of the sacerdotal +dignity to which he was called, regarding it in his thoughts as superior +to all the dignities and unsatisfying honors of the world; since it was +founded, neither by any mortal man, nor by the caprice of the variable +and servile populace, nor by the irruption or invasion of barbarians, +nor by the violence of rebellious armies urged on by greed, nor by angel +nor archangel, nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete himself. +How, for a motive so unworthy, for a mere woman, for a tear or two, +feigned, perhaps, scorn that august dignity, that authority that was not +conceded by God even to the archangels nearest to his throne? How +should he descend to be confounded among the obscure people, and become +one of the flock--he who had dreamed of being the shepherd, tying and +untying on earth what God should tie and untie in heaven, pardoning +sins, regenerating the people by water and by the spirit, teaching them +in the name of an infallible authority, pronouncing judgments that +should be ratified and confirmed by the Lord of the heavens--he, the +instructor and the minister in tremendous mysteries inscrutable by human +reason, calling down from heaven, not, like Elias, the flame that +consumes the victim, but the Holy Spirit, the Word made flesh, the river +of grace that purifies hearts and makes them clean like unalloyed gold? + +When Don Luis let his mind dwell on these thoughts, his spirit took +wings and soared up above the clouds into the empyrean, and poor Pepita +Ximenez remained below, far away, and hardly within sight. + +But the wings of his imagination soon drooped, and the spirit of Don +Luis touched earth again. Again he saw Pepita, so graceful, so young, so +ingenuous, and so enamored. Pepita combated in his soul his firmest and +most deep-seated resolutions, and Don Luis feared that in the end she +would put them all to flight. + +In this way was Don Luis allowing himself to be tormented by opposing +thoughts, that made war on each other, when Currito, without asking +leave or license, entered his room. + +Currito, who had held his cousin in very slight esteem so long as he was +only a student of theology, now regarded him with wonder and veneration, +looking upon him, from the moment when he had seen him manage Lucero so +skillfully, as something more than human. + +To know theology, and to be ignorant of horsemanship, was something +unflattering to Don Luis in the eyes of Currito; but when Currito saw +that, in addition to his learning, and to all those other matters of +which he himself knew nothing, although he supposed them to be difficult +and perplexing, Don Luis knew, besides, how to keep his seat so +admirably on the back of a fiery horse, his veneration and his affection +for his cousin knew no bounds. Currito was an idler, a good-for-nothing, +a very block of wood, but he had an affectionate and loyal heart. + +To Don Luis, who was the idol of Currito, happened what happens to all +superior natures when inferior persons take a liking to them. Don Luis +permitted himself to be loved, that is to say, he was governed +despotically by Currito in matters of little importance. And, as for men +like Don Luis there are hardly any matters of importance in common +daily life, the result was that Don Luis was led about by Currito like a +little dog. + +"I have come for you," the latter said, "to take you with me to the +club-house, which is full of people to-day, and presents a very animated +appearance. What is the use of sitting here longer, gazing into vacancy, +as if you were waiting to catch flies?" + +Don Luis, without offering any resistance, and as if these words were a +command, took his hat and cane, and saying, "Let us go wherever you +wish," followed Currito, who led the way, very well pleased with the +influence he exercised over his cousin. + +The club-house was full of people, owing to the festivities of the +morrow, which was St. John's day. Besides the gentry of the village, +many strangers were there, who had come in from the neighboring villages +to be present at the fair and the vigil in the evening. + +The principal point of reunion was the court-yard, which was paved with +marble. In its center played a fountain, which was adorned with +flower-pots containing roses, pinks, sweet-basil, and other flowers. +Around this court-yard ran a corridor or gallery, supported by marble +columns, in which, as well as in the various saloons that opened into +it, were tables for _ombre_, others with newspapers lying on them, +others where coffee and other refreshments were served, and finally, +lounges, benches, and several easy-chairs. The walls were like snow, +from frequent whitening; nor were pictures wanting for their adornment. +There were French colored lithographs, a minute explanation of the +subject of each being written, both in French and in Spanish below. Some +of them represented scenes to The life of Napoleon, from Toulon to St. +Helena; others, the adventures of Matilda and Malek-Adel; others. +Incidents in love and war, in the lives of the Templar, Rebecca, Lady +Rowena, and Ivanhoe; and others, the gallantries, the intrigues, the +lapses and the conversions of Louis XIV. and Mademoiselle de la +Vallière. + +Currito took Don Luis, and Don Luis allowed himself to be taken, to the +saloon where were gathered the cream of the fashion, the dandies and +_cocodés_ of the village and of the surrounding district. Prominent +among these was the Count of Genazahar, of the neighboring city of--. +The Count was an illustrious and much admired personage. He had made +visits of great length to Madrid and Seville, and, whether as a country +dandy or as a young nobleman, was always attired by the most fashionable +tailors. + +The Count of Genazahar was a little past thirty. He was good-looking, +and he knew it; and could boast of his prowess in peace and in war, in +duels and in love-making. The Count, however--and this notwithstanding +the fact that he had been one of the most persistent suitors of +Pepita--had received the sugar-coated pill of refusal that she was +accustomed to bestow on those who paid their addresses to her and +aspired to her hand. + +He had not yet recovered from the irritation produced in his proud heart +by this rejection. Love had turned into hatred, and the count lost no +occasion of giving utterance to his feelings, holding Pepita up, on such +occasions, to the most merciless ridicule. + +The count was engaged in this agreeable exercise, when, by an evil +chance, Don Luis and Currito approached, and joined the crowd that was +listening to the odd species of panegyric, which opened to receive them. +Don Luis, as if the devil himself had had the arrangement of the matter, +found himself face to face with the count, who was speaking as follows: + +"She's a cunning one, this same Pepita Ximenez, with more fancies and +whims than the Princess Micomicona. She wants to make us forget that she +was born in poverty, and lived in poverty until she married that +accursed usurer, Don Gumersindo, and took possession of his dollars. The +only good action this same widow has performed in her life was to +conspire with Satan to send the rogue quickly to hell, and free the +earth from such a contamination and plague. Pepita now has a hobby for +virtue and for chastity. All that may be very well; but how do we know +that she has not a secret intrigue with some plowboy, and is not +deceiving the world as if she were Queen Artemisia herself?" + +People of quiet tastes, who seldom take part in reunions of men only, +may perhaps be scandalized by this language; it may appear to them +indecent and brutal, even to the point of incredibility; but those who +know the world will confess that language like this is very generally +employed in it, and that the most amiable and agreeable women, the most +honorable matrons, if they chance to have an enemy, or even without +having one, are often made the subjects of accusations no less infamous +and vile than those made by the count against Pepita; for scandal is +often indulged in, or, to speak more accurately, dishonor and insult are +disseminated, for the purpose of showing wit and the power to entertain. + +Don Luis--who, from a child, had been accustomed to the consideration +and respect of those around him, first, of the servants and dependents +of his father, who gratified him in all his wishes, and then, of every +one in the seminary, where, as well because he was a nephew of the dean, +as on account of his own merits, he had never been contradicted in +anything, but, on the contrary, always pleased and flattered--stood, +when he heard the insolent count thus drag in the dust the name of the +woman he loved, as if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet. + +But how undertake her defense? He knew, indeed, that although he was +neither husband, brother, nor other relative of Pepita's, he might yet +come forward in her defense, as a man of honor; but he saw well the +scandal this would give rise to, since, far from saying a word in her +favor, all the other persons present joined in applauding the wit of the +count. He, already the minister, almost, of a God of peace, could not be +the one to give the lie to this ruffian, and thus expose himself to the +risk of a quarrel. + +Don Luis was on the point of departing in silence. But his heart would +not consent to this, and, striving to clothe himself with an authority +which was justified neither by his years nor by his countenance, where +the beard had scarcely begun to make its appearance, nor by his presence +in that place, he began to speak with earnest eloquence in denunciation +of all slanderers, and to reproach the count, with the freedom of a +Christian and in severe accents, with the vileness of his conduct. + +This was to preach in the desert, or worse. The count answered his +homily with gibes and jests; the by-standers, among whom were many +strangers, took the part of the jester, notwithstanding the fact that +Don Luis was the son of the squire. Even Currito, who was of no account +whatever, and who was, besides, a coward, although he did not laugh, yet +made no effort to take the part of his friend, and the latter was +obliged to withdraw, disturbed and humiliated by the ridicule he had +drawn on himself. + + * * * * * + +"This flower only was wanting to complete the nosegay," muttered poor +Don Luis between his teeth when he had reached his house and shut +himself up in his room, vexed and ill at ease because of the jeers of +which he had been the butt. He exaggerated them to himself; they seemed +to him unendurable. He threw himself into a chair, depressed and +disheartened, and a thousand contradictory ideas assailed his mind at +once. + +The blood of his father, which boiled in his veins, incited him to +anger, and urged him to throw aside the clerical garb, as he had in the +beginning been advised to do in the village, and then give the count his +deserts; but the whole future he had planned for himself would be thus, +at a blow, destroyed. He pictured to himself the dean disowning him; and +even the Pope, who had already sent the pontifical dispensation +permitting him to be ordained before the required age, and the bishop +of the diocese, who had based the petition for the dispensation on his +approved virtue and learning and on the firmness of his vocation, all +appeared before him now to reproach him. + +Then the humorous theory of his father in regard to those other +arguments, in addition to those of persuasion, of which the apostle St. +James, the bishops of the middle ages, and St. Ignatius Loyola had made +use, occurred to his mind, and it seemed to him now not so preposterous +as before, and he almost repented not having put them into practice. + +He then recalled to mind the custom of an orthodox doctor, a +distinguished philosopher of Persia, of our own day, mentioned in a book +recently written on that country--a custom which consisted in punishing +with harsh words his hearers and pupils when they laughed at his +teachings or could not understand them, and, if this did not suffice, in +descending from his chair, saber in hand, and giving them all a beating. +This method, as it appears, had proved efficacious, especially in +controversy; although it had chanced that the said philosopher, coming +across an opponent of the same way of thinking as himself, had received +from him a severe wound in the face. + +Don Luis, in the midst of his mortification and ill-humor, could not +help laughing at the absurdity of this recollection. He thought there +were not wanting in Spain philosophers who would willingly adopt the +Persian method; and, if he himself did not put it into practice, it was +certainly not through fear of the wounds he might receive, but through +considerations of greater weight. + +"I did very wrong in preaching there," he said to himself. "I should +have remained silent. Our Lord Jesus Christ has said, 'Give not that +which is holy to dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest +they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.' + +"But, no; why should I complain? Why should I return insult for insult? +Why should I allow myself to be vanquished by anger! Many holy fathers +have said, 'Anger in a priest is even worse than lasciviousness.' The +anger of priests has caused many tears to be shed, and has been the +cause of terrible evils. + +"Anger perhaps it was--this terrible counselor--that at times persuaded +them that it was necessary for the people to shed blood at the Divine +command, and that brought before their sanguinary eyes the vision of +Isaiah; they have then seen, and caused their fanatic followers to see, +the meek Lamb converted into an inexorable avenger, descending from the +summit of Edom, proud in the multitude of his strength, trampling the +nations under foot, as the treader tramples the grapes in the +wine-press, their garments raised, and covered with blood to the thighs. +Ah, no; my God! I am about to become thy minister. Thou art a God of +peace, and my first duty should be meekness. Thou makest the sun to +shine on the just and the unjust, and pourest down upon all alike the +fertilizing rain of thy inexhaustible goodness. Thou art our Father who +dwellest in the heavens, and we should be perfect, even as thou art +perfect, pardoning those who have offended us, and asking thee to pardon +them, because they know not what they do. I should recall to mind the +beatitudes of the Scripture: Blessed are ye when they revile you and +persecute you, and say all manner of evil things against you. The +minister of God, or he who is about to become his minister, must be +humble, peaceable, meek of heart; not like the oak that lifts itself up +proudly, until the thunderbolt strike it, but like the fragrant herbs of +the woods, and the modest flowers of the fields, that give sweeter and +more grateful perfume after the rustic has trodden them under foot." + +In these and other meditations of a like nature the hours passed until +three o'clock, when Don Pedro, who had just returned from the country, +entered his son's room to call him to dinner. The gay joviality of his +father, his jest, his affectionate attentions daring the meal, were all +of no avail to draw Don Luis from his melancholy, or to give him an +appetite; he ate little, and scarcely spoke while they were at table. + +Although much troubled by the silent melancholy of his son, whose +health, though indeed robust, was yet not beyond risk of being affected, +Don Pedro, who rose with the dawn and had a busy time of it during the +day, when he had finished his after-dinner cigar and taken his cup of +coffee and his glass of anisette, felt fatigued, and went, according to +his custom, to take his two or three hours of _siesta_. + +Don Luis had taken good care not to draw the attention of his father to +the offense done him by the Count of Genazahar. His father, who, for his +part, had no intention of fitting himself to celebrate mass, and who, +besides, was not of a very meek disposition, would have rushed +instantly, had he done so, to take the vengeance Don Luis had failed to +take. + +When his father had retired, Don Luis also left the dining-room, that he +might, in the seclusion of his own apartment, give himself up +undisturbed to his thoughts. + + * * * * * + +He had been sunk in them for a long time, seated before his desk, with +his elbows resting upon it, when he heard a noise close by. He raised +his eyes, and saw standing beside him the meddlesome Antoñona, who, +although of such massive proportions, had entered like a shadow, and was +now watching him attentively with a mixture of pity and of anger in her +glance. + +Antoñona, taking advantage of the hour in which the servants dined and +Don Pedro slept, had penetrated thus far without being observed, and had +opened the door of the room and closed it behind her so gently that Don +Luis, even if he had been less absorbed in meditation than he was, would +not have noticed it. + +She had come resolved to hold a very serious conference with Don Luis, +but she did not quite know what she was going to say to him. +Nevertheless, she had asked heaven or hell, whichever of the two it may +have been, to loosen her tongue and bestow upon her the gift of speech; +not such grotesque and vulgar speech as she generally used, but correct, +elegant, and adapted to the noble reflections and beautiful things she +thought it necessary for the carrying out of her purpose to say. + +When Don Luis saw Antoñona, he frowned, and showed by his manner how +much this visit displeased him, at the same time saying roughly: + +"What do you want here? Go away!" + +"I have come to call you to account about my young mistress," returned +Antoñona, quietly, "and I shall not go away until you have answered +me." + +She then drew a chair toward the table and sat down in it, facing Don +Luis with coolness and effrontery. + +Don Luis, seeing there was no help for it, restrained his anger, armed +himself with patience, and, in accents less harsh than before, +exclaimed: + +"Say what you have to say!" + +"I have to say," resumed Antoñona, "that what you are plotting against +my mistress is a piece of wickedness. You are behaving like a villain. +You have bewitched her; you have given her some malignant potion. The +poor angel is going to die; she neither eats nor sleeps, nor has a +moment's peace, on account of you. To-day she has had two or three +hysterical attacks at the bare thought of your going away. A good deed +you have done before becoming a priest! Tell me, wretch, why did you not +stay where you were, with your uncle, instead of coming here? She, who +was so free, so completely mistress of her own will, enslaving that of +others, and allowing her own to be taken captive by none, has fallen +into your treacherous snares. Your hypocritical sanctity was, doubtless, +the lure you employed. With your theologies and your pious humbugs you +have acted like the wily and cruel sportsman, who attracts to him by his +whistle the silly thrushes, only to strangle them in the net." + +"Antoñona," returned Don Luis, "leave me in peace. For God's sake, +cease to torture me! I am a villain; I confess it. I ought not to have +looked at your mistress; I ought not to have allowed her to believe that +I loved her; but I loved her, and I love her still, with my whole heart; +and I have given her no other potion or philter than the love I have for +her. It is my duty, nevertheless, to cast away, to forget this love. God +commands me to do so. Do you imagine that the sacrifice I make will not +be--is not already--a tremendous one? Pepita ought to arm herself with +fortitude and make a similar sacrifice." + +"You do not give even that consolation to the unhappy creature," replied +Antoñona. "You sacrifice voluntarily, on the altar, this woman who loves +you, who is already yours--your victim. But she--what claim has she on +you that she should offer you up as a sacrifice? What is the precious +jewel she is going to renounce, what the beautiful ornament she is going +to cast into the flames, but an ill-requited love? How is she going to +give to God what she does not possess? Is she going to try to cheat God, +and say to him: 'My God, since he does not love me, here he is; I offer +him up to you; I will not love him either.' God never laughs--if he did, +he would laugh at such a present as that!" + +Don Luis, confounded, did not know what answer to return to these +arguments of Antoñona, more atrocious than her former pinches. Besides, +it was repugnant to him to discuss the metaphysics of love with a +servant. + +"Let us leave aside," he said, "these idle discussions. I can not cure +the malady of your mistress. What would you have me do?" + +"What would I have you do?" replied Antoñona, more gently, and with +insinuating accents; "I will tell you what I would have you do. If you +can not cure the malady of my mistress, you should, at least, alleviate +it a little. Are you not saintly? Well, the saints are compassionate, +and courageous besides. Don't run away like an ill-mannered coward, +without saying good-by. Come to see my mistress, who is sick. Do this +work of mercy." + +"And what would be gained by such a visit? It would aggravate her +malady, instead of curing it." + +"It will not do so; you don't see the matter in its proper light. You +shall go to see her, and, with your honeyed tongue and the gift of the +gab that nature has bestowed upon you, you will put some resignation +into her soul, and leave her consoled for your departure; and if you +tell her, in addition to this, that you love her, and that it is only +for the sake of God you are leaving her, her woman's vanity, at least, +will not be wounded." + +"What you propose to me is to tempt God; it is dangerous both for her +and for me." + +"And why should it be to tempt God? Since God can see the rectitude and +the purity of your intentions, will he not grant you his favor and his +grace that you may not yield to temptation during the visit to her, +which it is but justice you should make? Ought you not to fly to her to +deliver her from despair, and bring her back to the right path? If she +should die of grief at seeing herself scorned; or if, in a frenzy, she +should seize a rope and hang herself to a beam, I tell you, your remorse +would be harder to bear than the flames of pitch and sulphur that +surround the caldrons of Lucifer." + +"This is horrible! I would not have her grow desperate. I shall arm +myself with courage--I will go to see her." + +"May Heaven bless you! But my heart told me you would go. How good you +are!" + +"When do you wish me to go?" + +"To-night, at ten o'clock precisely. I will be at the street-door +waiting for you, and will take you to her." + +"Does she know you have come to see me?" + +"She does not--it was all my own idea; but I will prepare her +cautiously, so that the surprise, the unexpected joy of your visit, may +not be too much for her. You promise me to come?" + +"I will go." + +"Good-by. Don't fail to come. At ten o'clock precisely. I shall be at +the door." + +And Antoñona hurried away, descended the steps two at a time, and so +gained the street. + + * * * * * + +It can not be denied that Antoñona displayed great prudence on this +occasion, and that her language was so dignified and proper that some +may think it apocryphal, if there were not the very best authority for +all that is related here, and if we did not know, besides, the wonders +the natural cleverness of a woman may work when she is spurred on by +interest or by some strong passion. + +Great, indeed, was the affection Antoñona entertained for her mistress, +and, seeing her so much in love and in such desperate case, she could do +no less than seek a remedy for her ills. The consent she had succeeded +in obtaining from Don Luis to her request that he should pay a visit to +Pepita was an unexpected triumph; and, in order to derive the greatest +possible advantage from this triumph, she was obliged to make the most +of her time, and to use all her worldly wisdom in preparing for the +occasion. + +Antoñona had suggested ten as the hour of Don Luis's visit, because this +was the hour in which Don Luis and Pepita had been accustomed to see +each other in the now abolished or suspended gatherings at the house of +the later. She had suggested this hour also in order to avoid giving +rise to scandal or slander; for she had once heard a preacher say that, +according to the gospel, there is nothing so wicked as scandal, and that +the scandal-monger ought to be flung into the sea with a mill-stone hung +round his neck. + +Antoñona, then, returned to the house of her mistress, very well +satisfied with herself and with the firm determination so to arrange +matters that the remedy she had sought should not prove useless, or +aggravate instead of curing Pepita's malady. She resolved to say nothing +of the matter to Pepita herself until the last moment, when she would +tell her that Don Luis had asked her of his own accord at what hour he +might make a farewell visit, and that she had said ten. + +In order to avoid giving rise to talk, she determined that Don Luis +should not be seen to enter the house, and for this the hour and the +internal arrangement of the house itself were alike propitious. At ten +the street would be full of people, on account of the vigil, which would +make it easier for Don Luis to reach the house without being observed. +To enter the hall would be the work of a moment, and Antoñona, who would +be waiting for him, could then take him to the library without any one +seeing him. + +All, or at least the greater part, of the handsome country-houses of +Andalusia are in construction double rather than single houses. Each +house, of these double houses, has its own door. The principal door +leads to the court-yard, which is pared and surrounded by columns, to +the parlors and the other apartments of the family; the other to the +inner yards, the stable and coach-house, the kitchens, the mill, the +wine-press, the granaries, the buildings where are kept the oil, the +must, the alcohol, the brandy and the vinegar, in large jars; and the +cask stores, or cellars, where the newly made wine, and that which has +been long kept, is stored in pipes or barrels. This second house, or +portion of a house, although it may be situated in the heart of a town +of twenty or twenty-five thousand inhabitants, is called _farm-house_. +The overseer, the foreman, the muleteer, the principal workmen, and the +domestics who have been longest in the service of the master, are +accustomed to gather here in the evenings, during the winter, around the +enormous fireplace of a spacious kitchen, and in summer in the open air, +or in some cool and well-ventilated apartment, and there chat or take +their ease until the master's family are about to retire. + +Antoñona was of opinion that the colloquy or explanation, which she +desired should take place between her mistress and Don Luis required +tranquillity, and should be interrupted by no one; and she therefore +determined that, as it was St. John's eve, the maid-servants of Pepita +should be to-night released from all their occupations, and should go to +amuse themselves at the farm-house, where, in union with the rustic +laborers, they might get up impromptu amusements, to consist of +fandangos, the recitation of pretty verses, playing the castanets, jigs, +and country-dances. + +In this manner the dwelling-house--without other occupants than Pepita +and herself--would be silent and almost deserted, and suited to the +solemnity and undisturbed quiet desirable in the interview she had +planned, and on which perhaps--or rather to a certainty--depended the +fate of two persons of such distinguished merit. + + * * * * * + +While Antoñona went about turning over and arranging in her mind all +these things, Don Luis had no sooner been left alone than he regretted +having proceeded with so much haste, and weakly consenting to the +interview Antoñona had asked of him. As he reflected upon it, it seemed +to him more full of peril than those of Oenone or Celestina. He saw +before him all the danger to which he voluntarily exposed himself, and +he could see no advantage whatever in thus making in secret, and by +stealth, a visit to the beautiful widow. + +To go and see her in order to succumb to her attractions and fall into +her snares, making a mockery of his vows, and placing not only the +bishop, who had indorsed his petition for a dispensation, but even the +holy Pontiff, who had conceded it, in a false position, by relinquishing +his purpose of becoming a priest, seemed to him very dishonorable. It +was, besides, a treason against his father, who loved Pepita and desired +to marry her; and to visit her in order to undeceive her in regard to +his love for her, seemed to him a greater refinement of cruelty than to +depart without saying anything. + +Influenced by these considerations, the first thought of Don Luis was to +fail, without excuse or warning, to keep his appointment, and leave +Antoñona to wait in vain for him in the hall; but then, as Antoñona had, +in all probability, already announced his visit to her mistress, he +would, by failing to go, unpardonably offend, not only Antoñona, but +Pepita herself. + +He then resolved on writing Pepita a very affectionate and discreet +letter, excusing himself from going to see her, justifying his conduct, +consoling her, manifesting his tender sentiments toward her, while +letting her see that duty and Heaven were before everything, and +endeavoring to inspire her with the courage to make the same sacrifice +as he himself was making. + +He made four or five different attempts to write this letter. He blotted +a great deal of paper which he afterward tore up, and could not, in the +end, succeed in getting the letter to his taste. Now it was dry, cold, +pedantic, like a poor sermon or a school-master's discourse; now its +contents betrayed a childish apprehension, as if Pepita were a monster +lying in wait to devour him; now it had other faults not less serious. +In fine, after wasting many sheets of paper in the attempt, the letter +remained unwritten. + +"There is no help for it," said Don Luis to himself; "the die is cast. I +must only summon courage and go." + +He comforted his spirit with the hope that his self-control would not +forsake him during the coming interview; and that God would endow his +lips with eloquence to persuade Pepita, who was so good, that it was she +herself who, sacrificing her earthly love, urged him to fulfill his +vocation, resembling in this those holy women of whom there are not +wanting examples, who not only renounced the society of a bridegroom or +a lover, but even the companionship of a husband, as is narrated, for +instance, in the life of St. Edward, of England, whose queen lived with +him as a sister. + +Don Luis felt himself consoled and encouraged by this thought, and he +already pictured himself as St. Edward, and Pepita as Queen Edith. And +under the form and in the character of this virgin queen, Pepita +appeared to him, if possible, more graceful, charming, and romantic +than ever. + +Don Luis was not, however, altogether so secure of himself, or so +tranquil, as he should have been, after forming the resolution of +following the example of St. Edward. There seemed to him something +almost criminal, which he could not well define, in the visit he was +about to make to Pepita without his father's knowledge. He felt tempted +to awaken him from his _siesta_, and to reveal everything to him; two or +three times he rose from his chair with this purpose; then he stopped, +feeling that such a revelation would be dishonoring, and a disgraceful +exhibition of childishness. He might betray his own secrets, but to +betray those of Pepita in order to set himself right with his father, +seemed to him contemptible enough. The baseness and the ridiculous +meanness of the action were still further increased in his eyes by the +reflection that what prompted him to it was the fear of not being strong +enough to resist temptation. + +Don Luis kept silence, therefore, and revealed nothing to his father. + +More than this, he did not even feel that he had the confidence and +composure necessary to present himself before his father, with the +consciousness of this secret interview interposing itself as a barrier +between them. He was indeed so excited and so beside himself, under the +influence of the contending emotions that disputed the possession of his +soul, that he felt as if the room, though a large one, was too small to +contain him. Starting to his feet, he paced with rapid strides up and +down the floor, like some wild animal in his cage, impatient of +confinement. At last, although--being summer--the window was open, he +felt as if he could remain here no longer, lest he should suffocate for +want of air; as if the roof pressed down upon his head; as if, to +breathe, he needed the whole atmosphere; to walk, he required space +without limits; to lift up his brow, and exhale his sighs, and elevate +his thoughts, to have nothing less than the immeasurable vault of heaven +above him. + +Impelled by this necessity, he took his hat and cane and went out into +the street. Thence, avoiding every one he knew, he passed on into the +country, plunging into the leafiest and most sequestered recesses of the +gardens and walks that encompass the village, and make, for a radius of +more than half a league, a paradise of its surroundings. + +We have said but little, thus far, concerning the personal appearance of +Don Luis. Be it known, then, that he was in every sense of the word a +handsome fellow--tall, well formed, with black hair, and eyes also black +and full of fire and sweetness. His complexion was dark, his teeth were +white, his lips delicate and curling slightly, which gave to his +countenance an appearance of disdain; his bearing was manly and bold, +notwithstanding the reserve and meekness proper to his sacred character. +The whole mien of Don Luis bore, in a word, that indescribable stamp of +distinction and nobility that seems to be--though this is not always the +case--the peculiar quality and exclusive privilege of aristocratic +families. + +On beholding Don Luis one could not but confess that Pepita Ximenez was +aesthetic by instinct. + +Don Luis hurried on with precipitate steps in the course he had taken, +jumping across brooks and hardly glancing at surrounding objects, almost +as a bull stung by a hornet might do. The countrymen he met, the +market-gardeners who saw him pass, very possibly took him for a madman. + +Tired at last of walking on aimlessly, he sat down at the foot of a +stone cross near the ruins of an ancient convent of St. Francis de Paul, +almost two miles from the village, and there plunged anew into +meditation, but of so confused a character that he himself was scarcely +conscious of what was passing in his mind. + +The sound of the distant bells, calling the faithful to prayer and +reminding them of the salutation of the angel to the Most Holy Virgin, +reaching these solitudes through the rarefied atmosphere, drew Don Luis +at last from his meditations, and made him once more conscious of the +world of reality. + +The sun had just sunk behind the gigantic peaks of the neighboring +mountains, making their summits--in the shape of pyramids, needles, and +broken obelisks--stand out in bold relief against a background of topaz +and amethyst--for such was the appearance of the heavens, gilded by the +beams of the setting sun. The shadows began to deepen over the plain, +and, on the mountains opposite to those behind which the sun was +sinking, the more elevated peaks shone like flaming gold or crystal. + +The windows and the white walls of the distant sanctuary of the Virgin, +patroness of the village, which is situated on the summit of a distant +hill, as well as those of another small temple or hermitage, situated on +a nearer hill called Calvary, still shone like two beacon-lights, +touched by the oblique rays of the setting sun. + +Nature exhaled a poetic melancholy, and all things seemed to intone a +hymn to the Creator, with that silent music heard only by the spirit. +The low sound of the bells, softened and almost lost in the distance, +hardly disturbed the repose of the earth, and invited to prayer, without +distracting the senses by their noise. Don Luis uncovered his head, +knelt down at the foot of the cross, the pedestal of which had served +him as a seat, and repeated with profound devotion the _Angelus Domini_. + +The shades of evening were gathering fast; but when Night unfolds her +mantle, and spreads it over those favored regions, she delights to adorn +it with the most luminous stars, and with a still brighter moon. The +vault of heaven did not exchange its cerulean hue for the blackness of +night; it still retained it, though it had assumed a deeper shade. The +atmosphere was so clear and pure that myriads of stars could be descried +shining far into the limitless depths of space. The moon silvered the +tops of the trees, and touched with its splendor the waters of the +brooks that gleamed, luminous and transparent, with colors as changeful +and iridescent as the opal. In the leafy groves the nightingales were +singing. Herbs and flowers shed a rich perfume. Countless multitudes of +glow-worms shone like diamonds or carbuncles among the grass and wild +flowers along the banks of the brooks. In this region the winged +glow-worm is not found, but another and smaller species abounds, and +sheds a most brilliant light. Fruit-trees still in blossom, acacias and +roses without number, perfumed the air with their rich fragrance. + +Don Luis felt himself swayed, seduced, vanquished, by this +voluptuousness of nature, and began to doubt himself. It was necessary, +however, to fulfill his promise and keep his appointment. + +Deviating often from the straight path, hesitating at times whether he +should not rather push forward to the source of the river, where, at the +foot of a mountain and in the midst of the most enchanting surroundings, +the crystal torrent that waters the neighboring gardens and orchards +bursts from the living rock, he turned back, with slow and lingering +step, in the direction of the village. + +In proportion as he approached the village, the terror inspired by the +thought of what he was about to do increased. He plunged into the +thickest of the wood, hoping there to behold some wonder, some sign, +some warning, that should draw him back. He thought often of the student +Lisardo, and wished that, like him, he might behold his own burial. But +heaven smiled with her thousand lights, and invited to love; the stars +looked at each other with love; the nightingales sang of love; even the +crickets amorously vibrated their sonorous elytra, as troubadours the +plectrum, in a serenade; all the earth on this tranquil and beautiful +night seemed given up to love. There was no warning; there was no sign; +there was no funeral pomp; all was life, peace, joy. + +Where was now his guardian angel? Had he abandoned Don Luis as already +lost, or, deeming that he ran no risk, did he make no effort to turn him +from his purpose? Who can say? Perhaps from the danger that menaced him +would, in the end, result a triumph. St. Edward and Queen Edith +presented themselves again to the imagination of Don Luis, and +strengthened his resolution. + +Engrossed in these meditations, he delayed his return, and was still +some distance from the village when ten, the hour appointed for his +interview with Pepita, struck from the parish clock. The ten strokes of +the bell were ten blows that, falling on his heart, wounded it as with a +physical pain--a pain in which dread and treacherous disquiet were +blended with a ravishing sweetness. + +Don Luis hastened his steps that he might reach Pepita's house as soon +after the appointed hour as was now possible, and shortly found himself +in the village. + +The village presented a most animated scene. Young girls flocked to wash +their faces at the fountain on the common--those who had sweethearts, +that their sweethearts might remain faithful to them; and those who had +not, that they might obtain sweethearts. Here and there women and +children were returning from the fields, with verbena, branches of +rosemary, and other plants, which they had been gathering, to burn as a +charm. Guitars tinkled on every side, words of love were to be +overheard, and everywhere happy and tender couples were to be seen +walking together. The vigil and the early morning of St. John's day, +although a Christian festival, still retain a certain savor of paganism +and primitive naturalism. This may be because of the approximate +concurrence of this festival and the summer solstice. In any case, the +scene to-night was of a purely mundane character, without any religious +mixture whatever. All was love and gallantry. In our old romances and +legends the Moor always carries off the beautiful Christian princess, +and the Christian knight receives the reward of his devotion to the +Moorish princess, on the eve or in the early morning of St. John's day; +and the traditionary custom of the old romances had been, to all +appearances, preserved in the village. + +The streets were full of people. The whole village was out of doors, in +addition to the strangers from the surrounding country. Progress, thus +rendered extremely difficult, was still further impeded by the multitude +of little tables laden with _nougat_, honey-cakes, and toast, +fruit-stalls, booths for the sale of dolls and toys, and cake-shops, +where gypsies, young and old, by turns fried the dough, tainting the air +with the odor of oil, weighed and served the cakes, responded with +ready wit to the compliments of the gallants who passed by, and told +fortunes. + +Don Luis sought to avoid meeting any of his acquaintances, and, when he +caught sight by chance of any one he knew, he turned his steps in +another direction. Thus, by degrees, he reached the entrance to Pepita's +house without having been stopped or spoken to by any one. His heart now +began to beat with violence, and he paused a moment to recover his +serenity. He looked at his watch; it was almost half-past ten. + +"Good heavens!" he exclaimed; "she has been waiting for me nearly half +an hour." + +He then hurried his pace and entered the hall. The lamp by which it was +always lighted was burning dimly on this particular evening. + +No sooner had Don Luis entered the hall than a hand, or rather a talon, +seized him by the right arm. It belonged to Antoñona, who said to him +under her breath: + +"A pretty fellow you are, for a collegian! Ingrate! good-for-nothing! +vagabond! I began to think you were not coming. Where have you been, +imbecile? How dare you delay, as if you had no interest in the matter, +when the salt of the earth is melting for you, and the sum of beauty +awaits you?" + +While Antoñona was giving utterance to these complaints, she did not +stand still, but continued to go forward, dragging after her by the arm +the now cowed and silent collegian. They passed the grated door, which +Antoñona closed carefully and noiselessly behind them. They crossed the +court-yard, ascended the stairs, passed through some corridors and two +interjacent apartments, and arrived at last at the door of the library, +which was closed. + +Profound silence reigned throughout the house. The library was situated +in its interior, and was thus inaccessible to the noises of the street. +The only sounds that reached it, confused and vague, were the shaking of +the castanets, the tinkle of the guitar, and the murmur of the voices of +Pepita's servants, who were holding their impromptu dance in the +farm-house. + +Antoñona opened the door of the library and pushed Don Luis toward it, +at the same time announcing him in these words: + +"Here is Don Luis, who has come to take leave of you." + +This announcement being made with due ceremony, the discreet Antoñona +withdrew, leaving the visitor and her mistress at their ease, and +closing behind her the door of the outer saloon. + + * * * * * + +At this point in our narrative we can not refrain from calling attention +to the character of authenticity that stamps the present history, and +paying a tribute of admiration to the scrupulous exactness of the person +who composed it. For, were the incidents related in these _paralipomena_ +fictitious, as in a novel, there is nor the least doubt but that an +interview so important and of such transcendent interest as that of +Pepita and Don Luis would have been brought about by less vulgar means +than those here employed. Perhaps our hero and heroine, in the course of +some new excursion into the country, might have been surprised by a +sudden and frightful tempest, thus finding themselves obliged to take +refuge in the ruins of some ancient castle or Moorish tower, with the +reputation, of course, of being haunted by ghosts or other supernatural +visitants. Perhaps our hero and heroine might have fallen into the power +of a party of bandits, from whom they would have escaped, thanks to the +presence of mind and courage of Don Luis; taking shelter afterward for +the night--they two alone, and without the possibility of avoiding +it--in a cavern or grotto. Or, finally, perhaps the author would have +arranged the matter in such a way as that Pepita and her vacillating +admirer would have been obliged to make a journey by sea, and, although +at the present day there are neither pirates nor Algerine corsairs, it +is not difficult to invent a good shipwreck, during which Don Luis +could have saved Pepita's life, taking refuge with her afterward on a +desert island, or some other equally romantic and solitary place. Any +one of these devices would more artfully prepare the way for the tender +colloquy of the lovers, and would better serve to exculpate Don Luis. We +are of the opinion, nevertheless, that, instead of censuring the author +for not having had recourse to such complications as those we have +mentioned, we ought rather to thank him for his conscientiousness in +sacrificing to the truth of his relation the marvelous effect he might +have produced, had he ventured to ornament and adorn it with incidents +and episodes drawn from his own fancy. + +If the means by which this interview was brought about were, in reality, +only the officiousness and the skill of Antoñona, and the weakness with +which Don Luis acceded to her request that he should grant it, why forge +lies, and cause the two lovers to be impelled, as it were, by Fate, to +see and speak with each other alone, to the great danger of the virtue +and honor of both? There was nothing of this. Whether Don Luis did well +or ill in keeping his appointment, and whether Pepita Ximenez, whom +Antoñona had already told that Don Luis was coming of his own accord to +see her, did well or ill in rejoicing over that somewhat mysterious and +inopportune visit, let us not throw the blame on Fate, but on the +personages themselves who figure in this history, and on the passions +by which they are actuated. We confess to a great affection for Pepita; +but the truth is before everything, and must be declared, even should it +be to the prejudice of our heroine. + +At eight o'clock, then, Antoñona had told her that Don Luis was coming, +and Pepita, who had been talking of dying, whose eyes were red, whose +eyelids were slightly inflamed with weeping, and whose hair was in some +disorder, thought of nothing, thereafter, but of adorning and arranging +herself for the purpose of receiving Don Luis. She bathed her face with +warm water, so that the ravages her tears had made might be effaced to +the exact point of leaving her beauty unimpaired, while still allowing +it to be seen that she had wept. She arranged her hair, so as to +display, rather than a studied care in its arrangement, a certain +graceful and artistic carelessness, that fell short of disorder, +however, which would have been indecorous; she polished her nails, and, +as it was not fit that she should receive Don Luis in a wrapper, she put +on a simple house-dress. In fine, she managed instinctively that all the +details of her toilet should concur in heightening her beauty and grace, +but without allowing any trace to be perceived of the art, the labor, +and the time employed in the details. She would have it appear, on the +contrary, as if all this beauty and grace were the free gift of nature, +something inherent in her person, no matter how she might, owing to the +vehemence of her passions, neglect it on occasion. + +Pepita, so far as we have been able to discover, spent more than an hour +in these labors of the toilet, which were to be perceived only by their +results. She then, with ill-concealed satisfaction, gave herself the +final touch before the looking-glass. At last, at about half-past nine, +taking a candle in her hand, she descended to the apartment, in which +was the _Infant Jesus_. She first lighted the altar-candles which had +been extinguished; she saw with something of sorrow that the flowers +were drooping; she asked pardon of the sacred Image for neglecting it so +long, and, throwing herself on her knees before it, prayed in her +solitude with her whole heart, and with that frankness and confidence +that a guest inspires who has been so long an inmate of the house. Of a +_Jesus of Nazareth_ bearing the cross upon his shoulders, and crowned +with thorns; of an _Ecce Homo_, insulted and scourged, with a reed for +derisive scepter, and his hands bound with a rough cord; of a _Christ +crucified_, bleeding and moribund, Pepita would not have dared to ask +what she now asked of a Saviour, still a child, smiling, beautiful, +untouched by suffering, and pleasing to the eye. Pepita asked him to +leave her Don Luis; not to take him away from her, since he, who was so +rich and so well provided with everything, might, without any great +sacrifice, deny himself this one of his servants, and give him up to +her. + +Having completed these preparations, which we may classify as cosmetic, +indumentary, and religious, Pepita installed herself in the library, and +there awaited the arrival of Don Luis with feverish impatience. + +Antoñona had acted with prudence in not telling her mistress that Don +Luis was coming to see her until a short time before the appointed hour. +Even as it was, thanks to the delay of the gallant, poor Pepita, from +the moment in which she had finished her prayers and supplications to +the _Infant Jesus_, to that in which she beheld Don Luis standing in the +library, was a prey to anguish and disquietude. + +The visit began in the most grave and ceremonious manner. The customary +salutations were mechanically interchanged, and Don Luis, at the +invitation of Pepita, seated himself in an easy-chair, without laying +aside his hat or cane, and at a short distance from her. Pepita was +seated on the sofa; beside her was a little table on which were some +books, and a candle, the light from which illuminated her countenance. +On the desk also burned a lamp. Notwithstanding these two lights, +however, the apartment, which was large, remained for the greater part +in obscurity. A large window, which looked out on an inner garden, was +open on account of the heat; and although the grating of the window was +covered with climbing roses and jasmine, the clear beams of the moon +penetrated through the interlaced leaves and flowers, and struggled with +the light of the lamp and candle. Through the open window came, too, the +distant and confused sounds of the dance at the farm-house, which was at +the other extremity of the garden, the monotonous murmur of the fountain +below, and the fragrance of the jasmine and roses that curtained the +window, mingled with that of the mignonette, sweet-basil, and other +plants that adorned the borders beneath. + +There was a long pause--a silence as difficult to maintain as it was to +break. Neither of the two interlocutors ventured to speak. The situation +was, in truth, embarrassing. They found it as difficult to express +themselves then, as we find it now to reproduce their words; but there +is nothing else for it than to make the effort. Let us allow them to +speak for themselves, transcribing their words with exactitude. + + * * * * * + +"So you have finally condescended to come and take leave of me before +your departure," said Pepita; "I had already given up the hope that you +would do so." + +The part Don Luis had to perform was a serious one; and, besides this, +in this kind of dialogue, the man, not only if he be a novice, but even +when he is old in the business and an expert, is apt to begin with some +piece of folly. Let us not condemn Don Luis, therefore, because he also +began unwisely. + +"Your complaint is unjust," he said. "I came here with my father to take +leave of you, and, as we had not the pleasure of being received by you, +we left cards. We were told that your health was somewhat delicate, and +we have sent every day since to inquire for you. We were greatly pleased +to learn that you were improving. I hope you are now much better." + +"I am almost tempted to say I am no better," answered Pepita, "but, as I +see that you have come as the embassador of your father, and I do not +want to distress so excellent a friend, it is but right that I should +tell you, that you may repeat it to him, that I am much better now. But +it is strange that you have come alone. Don Pedro must be very much +occupied indeed, not to accompany you." + +"My father did not accompany me, madam, because he does not know that I +have come to see you. I have chosen to come without him because my +farewell must be a serious, a solemn, perhaps a final one, and his will +naturally be of a very different character. My father will return to +the village in a few weeks; it is possible that I may never return to +it, and, if I do, it will be in a very different character from my +present one." + +Pepita could not restrain herself. The happy future of which she had +dreamed vanished, at the words of Don Luis, into air. Her unalterable +resolution to vanquish, at whatever cost, this man, the only one she had +loved in her life, the only one she felt herself capable of loving, +seemed to have been made in vain. She felt herself condemned at twenty +years of age, with all her beauty, to perpetual widowhood, to solitude, +to an unrequited love--for any other love was impossible for her. The +character of Pepita, in whom obstacles only strengthened and kindled +afresh her desires, with whom a determination, once taken, carried +everything before it until it was fulfilled, showed itself now in all +its violence and without restraint. She must conquer, or die in the +attempt. Social considerations, the fixed habit of guarding and +concealing the feelings, acquired in the great world, which serve as a +restraint to the paroxysms of passion, and which veil in ambiguous +phrases, and dilute in circumlocutions, the most violent explosion of +undisciplined emotion, had no power with Pepita. She had had but little +intercourse with the world, she knew no middle way; her only rule of +conduct hitherto had been to obey blindly her mother and her husband +while they lived, and afterward to command despotically every other +human being. Thus it was that Pepita spoke her own thoughts on this +occasion, and showed herself such as she really was. Her soul, with all +the passion it contained, took sensible form in her words; and her +words, instead of serving to conceal her thoughts and her feelings, gave +them substance. She did not speak as a lady of our _salons_ would have +spoken, with circumlocutions and attenuations of expression, but with +that idyllic frankness with which Chloe spoke to Daphnis, and with the +humility and the complete self-abandonment with which the +daughter-in-law of Naomi offered herself to Boaz. + +"Do you then persist in your purpose?" she asked. "Are you sure of your +vocation? Are you not afraid of being a bad priest? Don Luis, I am going +to make a supreme effort. I am going to forget that I am an uncultured +girl; I am going to dispense with all sentiment, and to reason as coldly +as if it were concerning the matter most indifferent to me. Things have +taken place that may be explained in two ways; both explanations do you +discredit. I will show you what my thoughts are. If the woman who, with +her coquetries--not very daring ones, in truth--almost without a word, +and but a few days after seeing and speaking to you for the first time, +has been able to provoke you, to move you to look at her with glances +that betokened a profane love, and has even obtained from you a proof of +that love that would be a fault, a sin, in any one, but is so especially +in a priest--if this woman be, as she indeed is, a simple country-girl, +without education, without talent, and without elegance, what is not to +be feared of you when in great cities you see and converse with other +women a thousand times more dangerous? Your head will be turned when you +are thrown into the society of the great ladies who dwell in palaces, +who tread on soft carpets, who dazzle the eye with their diamonds and +pearls, who are clad in silks and laces instead of muslin and percale, +who leave bare the white and well-formed throat instead of covering it +with a plebeian and modest handkerchief, who are adepts in all the arts +of coquetry, and who, by reason of the very ostentation, luxury, and +pomp that surround them, are all the more desirable for being apparently +more inaccessible; who discuss politics, philosophy, religion, and +literature; who sing like canaries, who are enveloped, as it were, in +clouds of incense, adoration and homage, set upon a pedestal of triumphs +and of victories, glorified by the prestige of an illustrious name, +enthroned in gilded saloons, or secluded in voluptuous boudoirs, where +enter only the blest ones of the earth, its titled ones, perhaps, who +only to their most intimate friends are "Pepita," "Antoñita," or +"Angelita," and to the rest of the world, "Her Grace the Duchess," or +"the Marchioness." If you have yielded to the arts of an uncultured +peasant when you were on the eve of being ordained, and in spite of all +the enthusiasm for your calling that you may naturally be supposed to +entertain--if you have thus yielded, urged by a passing impulse, am I +not right in foreseeing that you will make an abominable priest, impure, +worldly, and of evil influence, and that you will yield to temptation at +every step? On such a supposition as this, believe me, Don Luis--and do +not be offended with me for saying so--you are not even worthy to be the +husband of an honest woman. If, with all the ardor and tenderness of the +most passionate lover, you have pressed the hand of a woman, if you have +looked at one, with glances that foretold a heaven, an eternity of love, +if you have kissed a woman that inspired you with no other feeling than +one that for me has no name, then go, in God's name, and do not marry +her! If she is virtuous, she will not desire you for a husband, nor even +for a lover; but, for God's sake, do not become a priest either! The +Church needs men more serious, more capable of resisting temptation, as +ministers of the Most High. + +"If, on the other hand, you have felt a noble passion for the woman of +whom we are speaking, although she be of little worth, why abandon and +deceive her with so much cruelty? However unworthy she may be, if she +has inspired this great passion, do you not suppose that she will share +it, and be the victim of it? For, when a love is great, elevated, and +passionate, does it ever fail to make its power felt? Does it not +tyrannize over and subjugate the beloved object irresistibly? By the +extent of your love for her you may measure that of her you love. And +how can you avoid fearing for her, if you abandon her? Has she the +masculine energy, the firmness of character produced by the wisdom +learned from books, the attraction of fame, the multitude of splendid +projects, and all the resources of your cultured and exalted intellect, +to distract her mind, and turn her away, without destructive violence, +from every other earthly affection? Can you not see that she will die of +grief, and that you, called by your destiny to offer up bloodless +sacrifices, will begin by pitilessly sacrificing her who most loves +you?" + +"I too, madam," returned Don Luis, endeavoring to conquer his emotion, +and to speak with firmness--"I too, madam, am obliged to make a great +effort in order to answer you with the calmness necessary to one who +opposes argument to argument, as in a controversy; but your accusation +is supported by so many reasons, and you have invested those +reasons--pardon me for saying so--with so specious an appearance of +truth, that I have no choice left me but to disprove them by other +reasons. I had no thought of being placed in the necessity of +maintaining a discussion here, and of sharpening my poor wits for that +purpose; but you compel me to do so, unless I wish to pass for a +monster. I am going to reply to the two extremes of the cruel dilemma in +which you have placed me. Though it is true that my youth was passed in +my uncle's house and in the seminary, where I saw nothing of women, do +not therefore think me so ignorant, or possessed of so little +imagination, that I can not picture to myself how lovely, how seductive +they may be. My imagination, on the contrary, went far beyond the +reality. Excited by the reading of the sacred writers and of profane +poets, it pictured women more charming, more graceful, more intelligent, +than they are commonly to be found in real life. I knew then, and I even +exaggerated to myself, the cost of the sacrifice I was making, when I +renounced the love of those women for the purpose of elevating myself to +the dignity of the priesthood. I know well how much the charms of a +beautiful woman are enhanced by rich attire, by splendid jewels, by +being surrounded with all the arts of refined civilization, all the +objects of luxury produced by the indefatigable labor and the skill of +man. I knew well, too, how much the natural cleverness of a woman is +increased, how much her natural intelligence is sharpened, quickened, +and brightened by intercourse with scientific men, by the reading of +good books, even by the familiar spectacle of the wealth and splendor of +great cities, and of the monuments of the past that they contain. All +this I pictured to myself with so much vividness, my fancy painted it in +such glowing colors, that you need have no doubt that, should I be +thrown into the society of those women of whom you speak, far from +feeling the adoration and the transports you prophesy, I shall rather +experience a disenchantment on seeing how great a distance there is +between what I dreamed of and the truth, between the living reality and +the picture of it that my fancy drew." + +"This is indeed specious reasoning," exclaimed Pepita. "How can I deny +that what you have pictured in your imagination is, in truth, more +beautiful than what exists in reality? but who will deny, either, that +the real possesses a more seductive charm than that which exists only in +the imagination? The vagueness and etherealness of a phantasm, however +beautiful it may be, can not compete with what is palpable and visible +to the senses. I can understand that holy images might exercise a more +powerful influence over your spirit than the pictures of mundane beauty +created by your fancy, but I fear that those holy images will not prove +equally powerful where mundane realities are concerned." + +"Have no such fear, madam," returned Don Luis. "My fancy possesses, by +its own creations, more power over my spirit than does the whole +universe--only excepting yourself--by what it transmits to it through +the senses." + +"And why except me? Such an exception gives room to the suspicion that +the idea you have of me, the idea which you love, may be but the +creation of this potent fancy of yours, and an illusion that resembles +me in nothing." + +"No, this is not the case. You may be assured that this idea resembles +you in everything. It may be that it is innate in my soul, that it has +existed in it since it was created by God, that it is a part of its +essence, the best and purest part of its being, as the perfume is of the +flower." + +"This is what I had feared, and now you confess it to me. You do not +love me. What you love is the essence, the fragrance, the purest part of +your own soul, that has assumed a form resembling mine." + +"No, Pepita; do not seek to amuse yourself in tormenting me. What I love +is you--and you such as you really are; but what I love is also so +beautiful, so pure, so delicate that I can not understand how it should +have reached my mind, in a material manner, through the senses. I take +it for granted, then, and it is my firm belief, that it must have had an +innate existence there. It is like the idea of God that is inborn in my +soul, that has unfolded and developed itself within my soul, and that +has, nevertheless, its counterpart in reality, superior, infinitely +superior to the idea. As I believe that God exists, so do I believe that +you exist, and that you are a thousand times superior to the idea that I +have formed of you." + +"Still, I have a doubt left. May it not be woman in general, and not I, +solely and exclusively, that has awakened this idea?" + +"No, Pepita; before I saw you, I had felt in imagination what might be +the magic power, the fascination of a woman, beautiful of soul and +graceful in person. There is no duchess or marchioness in Madrid, no +empress in all the world, no queen or princess on the face of the globe, +to be compared to the ideals and fantastic creations with whom I have +lived. These were inhabitants of the castles and boudoirs, marvels of +luxury and taste, that I pleased myself in boyhood by erecting in my +fancy, and that I afterward gave as dwelling-places to my Lauras, +Beatrices, Juliets, Marguerites, and Leonoras; to my Cynthias, Glyceras, +and Lesbias. Them I crowned in my imagination with coronets and Oriental +diadems; I clothed them in mantles of purple and gold, and surrounded +them with regal pomp like Esther and Vashti; I endowed them, like +Rebekah and the Shulamite, with the bucolic simplicity of the +patriarchal age; I bestowed on them the sweet humility and the devotion +of Ruth; I listened to them discoursing like Aspasia, or Hypatia, +mistresses of eloquence; I enthroned them in luxurious drawing-rooms, +and cast over them the splendor of noble blood and illustrious lineage, +as if they had been the proudest and noblest of patrician maidens of +ancient Rome; I beheld them graceful, coquettish, gay, full of +aristocratic ease and manner, like the ladies of the time of Louis XIV, +in Versailles; and I adorned them, now with the modest _stola_, that +inspired veneration and respect; now with diaphanous tunics and +_peplums_, through whose airy folds were revealed all the plastic +perfections of their graceful forms; now with the transparent _coa_, of +the beautiful courtesans of Athens and Corinth, showing the white and +roseate hues of the finely molded forms that glowed beneath their +vaporous covering. But what are the joys of the senses, what the glory +and magnificence of the world, to a soul that burns with and consumes +itself in Divine love, as I believed mine, perhaps with too much +arrogance, to burn and consume itself? As volcanic fires, when they +burst into flame, send flying into air, shattered in a thousand +fragments, the solid rocks, the mountain-side itself, that obstruct +their passage, so, or with even greater force, did my spirit cast from +itself the whole weight of the universe and of created beauty that lay +upon it and imprisoned it, preventing it from soaring up to God, as the +center of its aspirations. No; I have rejected no delight, no sweetness, +no glory, through ignorance. I knew them all, and valued them all at +more than their worth, when I rejected them all for a greater delight, a +greater sweetness, a greater glory. The profane love of woman presented +itself to my fancy, clothed, not only with all its own charms, but with +the sovereign and almost irresistible charms of the most dangerous of +all temptations--of that which the moralists call virginal +temptation--when the mind, not yet undeceived by experience and by sin, +pictures to itself in the transports of love a supreme and ineffable +delight immeasurably superior to all reality. Ever since I reached +manhood--that is to say, for many years past, for my youth was short--I +have scorned those delights and that beauty that were but the shadow and +the reflex of the archetypal beauty of which I was enamored, of the +supreme delight for which I longed. I have sought to die to myself, in +order to live in the beloved object, to free, not only my senses, but +even my soul itself, from every earthly affection, from illusions and +imaginings, in order to be able to say with truth that it is not I who +live, but Christ who lives in me. It may be, nay, it must be, that in +this I sinned through arrogance and self-confidence, and that God has +therefore wished to chastise me; and you came across my path, and +tempted me, and led me astray. Now you upbraid me, you deride me, you +accuse me of levity and of yielding easily to temptation; but in +upbraiding me and deriding me you insult yourself, for you thus imply +that any other woman might have had equal power over me. I do not wish, +when I ought to be humble, to fall into the sin of pride, by trying to +justify my fault. If God, in chastisement of my pride, has let me fall +from his grace, it is possible that any temptation, however slight, +might have made me waver and fall. Yet I confess that I do not think so. +It may be that I err in my judgment that this is but the consequence of +my undisciplined pride, but, I repeat, I do not think so. I can not +succeed in persuading myself that the cause of my fall had in it +anything either mean or base. Above all the dreams of my youthful +imagination, the reality, such as I beheld it in you, enthroned itself. +Above all the nymphs, queens, and goddesses of my fancy, you towered. +Above the ruins of my ideal creations, overthrown and shattered by +Divine love, there arose in my soul the faithful image, the exact +reproduction of the living beauty that adorns, that is the essence of +that body and of that soul. There may be even something mysterious, +something supernatural in this; for I loved you from the moment I first +saw you--almost before I saw you. Long before I was conscious of loving +you, I loved you. It would seem as if there were some fatality in +this--that it was decreed, that it was a predestination." + +"And if it were predestined, if it be decreed," said Pepita, "why not +submit to Fate, why still resist? Sacrifice your purpose to our love. +Have not I sacrificed much? Am I not now sacrificing my pride, my +decorum, my reserve, in supplicating you thus, in making this effort to +overcome your scorn? I too believe that I loved you before I saw you. +Now I love you with my whole heart, and without you there is no +happiness for me. It is true indeed that in my humble intelligence you +can find no rival so powerful as that which I have in yours. Neither +with the understanding, nor the will, nor the affections, can I raise +myself all at once up to God. Neither by nature nor by grace do I mount +or desire to mount up to such exalted spheres. My soul, nevertheless, is +full of religious devotion, and I know and love and adore God; but I +only behold his omnipotence and admire his goodness in the works that +have proceeded from his hands. Nor can I, with the imagination, weave +those visions that you tell me of. Yet I too dreamed of some one nobler, +more intelligent, more poetic, and more enamored, than the men who have +thus far sought my hand; of a lover more distinguished and accomplished +than any of my adorers of this and the neighboring villages, who should +love me, and whom I should love, and to whose will I should blindly +surrender mine. This some one was you. I had a presentiment of it when +they told me that you had arrived at the village. When I saw you for the +first time, I knew it. But, as my imagination is so sterile, the picture +I had formed of you in my mind was not to be compared, even in the most +remote degree, to the reality. I too have read something of romances and +poetry. But from all that my memory retained of them, I was unable to +form a picture that was not far inferior in merit to what I see and +divine in you since I have known you. Thus it is that from the moment I +saw you I was vanquished and undone. If love is, as you say, to die to +self, in order to live in the beloved object, then is my love genuine +and legitimate, for I have died to myself, and live only in you and for +you. I have tried to cast this love away from me, deeming it +ill-requited, and I have not been able to succeed in doing so. I have +prayed to God with fervor to take away from me this love, or else to +kill me, and God has not deigned to hear me. I have prayed to the +Virgin Mary to blot your image from my soul, and my prayer has been in +vain. I have made vows to my patron saint to the end that he would +enable me to think of you only as he thought of his blessed spouse, and +my patron saint has not succored me. Seeing all this, I have had the +audacity to ask of Heaven that you would allow yourself to be +vanquished, that you would cease to desire to be a priest, that there +might spring up in your soul a love as profound as that which is in my +heart. Don Luis, tell me frankly, has Heaven been deaf to this last +prayer also? Or is it, perchance, that to subjugate a soul as weak, as +wretched, and as petty as mine, a petty love is sufficient, while to +master yours, protected and guarded as it is by vigorous and lofty +thoughts, a more powerful love than mine is necessary, a love that I am +neither worthy of inspiring, nor capable of sharing, nor even able to +understand?" + +"Pepita," returned Don Luis, "it is not that your soul is less than +mine, but that it is free from obligations, and mine is not. The love +you have inspired me with is profound, but my obligations, my vows, the +purpose of my whole life so near to its realization, contend against it. +Why should I not say it without fearing to offend you? If you succeed in +making me love you, you do not humiliate yourself. If I succumb to your +love, I humiliate and abase myself. I leave the Creator for the +creature. I renounce the unwavering purpose of my life, I break the +image of Christ that was in my soul; and the new man, that I had created +in myself at such cost, disappears, that the old man may come to life +again. Instead of my lowering myself to the earth, to the impurity of +the world that I have hitherto despised, why do not you rather elevate +yourself to me by virtue of that very love you entertain for me, freeing +it from every earthly alloy? Why should we not love each other then +without shame, and without sin, and without dishonor? God penetrates +holy souls with the pure and refulgent fire of his love, and fills them +with it, so that, like a metal fresh from the forge, that, without +ceasing to be a metal, shines and glitters and is all fire, these souls +fill themselves with joy, and are in all things God, penetrated by God +in every part, through the grace of the Divine love. These souls then +love and enjoy each other, as if they loved and enjoyed God, loving and +enjoying him in truth, because they are God. Let us mount together in +spirit this steep and mystical ladder. Let our souls ascend, side by +side, to this bliss, which even in this mortal life is possible; but to +do this we must separate in the body; it is essential that I should go +whither I am called by my duty, my vow, and the voice of the Most High, +who disposes of his servant, and has destined him to the service of his +altar." + +"Ah, Don Luis," replied Pepita, full of sorrow and contrition, "now +indeed I see how vile is the metal I am made of, and how unworthy I am +that the Divine fire should penetrate and transform me. I will confess +everything, casting away even shame: I am a vile sinner; my rude and +uncultured understanding can not grasp these subtleties, these +distinctions, these refinements of love. My rebellious will refuses what +you propose. I can not even conceive of you but as yourself. For me you +are your mouth, your eyes, your dark locks that I desire to caress with +my hands, your sweet voice, the pleasing sound of your words that fall +upon my ears, and charm them through the senses; your whole bodily form, +in a word that charms and seduces me, and through which, and only +through which, I perceive the invisible spirit, vague and full of +mystery. My soul, stubborn, and incapable of these mysterious raptures, +will never be able to follow you to those regions whither you would take +it. If you soar up to them, I shall remain alone, abandoned, plunged in +the deepest affliction. I prefer to die; I deserve death; I desire it. +It may be that after death my soul, loosening or breaking the vile bonds +that chain it here, will be able to understand the love with which you +desire we should be united. Kill me, then, in order that we may thus +love each other; kill me, and then my spirit, set free, will follow you +whithersoever you may go, and will journey invisible by your side, +watching over your steps, contemplating you with ravishment, penetrating +your most secret thoughts, beholding your soul as it is, without the +intervention of the senses. But in this life it can not be. I love in +you, not only the soul, but the body, and the shadow cast by the body, +and the reflection of the body in the mirror and in the water, and the +Christian name, and the surname, and the blood, and all that goes to +make you such as you are, Don Luis de Vargas; the sound of your voice, +your gesture, your gait, and I know not what else besides. I repeat that +you must kill me. Kill me without compassion. No, I am not a Christian; +I am a material idolater." + +Here Pepita made a long pause. Don Luis knew not what to say, and was +silent. Tears bathed the cheeks of Pepita, who continued, sobbing: + +"I know it; you despise me, and you are right to despise me. With this +just contempt you will kill me more surely than with a dagger, and +without staining either your hands or your conscience with blood. +Farewell! I am about to free you from my odious presence. Farewell +forever!" + +Having said this, Pepita rose from her seat, and, without looking at Don +Luis, her face bathed with tears, beside herself, rushed toward the door +that led to the inner apartment. An unconquerable tenderness, a fatal +pity, took possession of Don Luis. He feared Pepita would die. He +started forward to detain her, but it was too late. Pepita had crossed +the threshold. Her form disappeared in the obscurity within. Don Luis, +impelled by a superhuman power, drawn as by an invisible hand, followed +her into the darkened chamber. + + * * * * * + +The library remained deserted. + +The servants' dance must have already terminated, for the only sound to +be heard was the murmur of the fountain in the garden below. + +Not even a breath of wind troubled the stillness of the night and the +serenity of the air. + +The perfume of the flowers and the light of the moon entered softly +through the open window. After a long interval, Don Luis made his +appearance, emerging from the darkness. Terror was depicted on his +countenance, mingled with despair--such despair as Judas may have felt +after he had betrayed his master. + +He dropped into a chair and, burying his face in his hands, with his +elbows resting on his knees, he remained for more than half an hour +plunged in a sea of bitter reflections. + +To see him thus, one might have supposed that he had just assassinated +Pepita. + +Pepita, nevertheless, at last made her appearance. With slow step, with +an air of the deepest melancholy, with bent head, and glance directed to +the floor, she approached Don Luis and spoke. + +"Now, indeed," said she, "though, alas! too late, I know all the +vileness of my heart and the iniquity of my conduct. I have nothing to +say in my own defense, but I would not have you think me more perverse +than I am. You must not think I have used any arts--that I have laid any +plans for your destruction. Yes; it is true that I have been guilty of +an atrocious crime, but an unpremeditated one; a crime inspired, +perhaps, by the spirit of evil that possesses me. Do not abandon +yourself to despair, do not torture yourself, for God's sake! You are +responsible for nothing. It was a frenzy, a madness that took possession +of your noble spirit. Your sin is a light one; mine is flagrant, +shameful, horrible. Now I am less worthy of you than ever. It is I who +ask you now to leave this place. Go; do penance. God will pardon you. +Go; a priest will give you absolution. Once cleansed from sin, carry out +your purpose, and become a minister of the Most High. Then, through the +holiness of your life, through your ceaseless labors, not only will you +efface from your soul the last traces of this fall, but you will obtain +for me, when you have pardoned me the evil I have done you, the pardon +of Heaven also. You are bound to me by no tie, and even if you were I +should loosen or break it. You are free. Let it suffice me that I have +taken captive by surprise the star of the morning. It is not my +desire--I neither can nor ought to seek to keep him in my power. I +divine it, I read it in your gesture, I am convinced of it--you despise +me more than before; and you are right in despising me. There is neither +honor, nor virtue, nor shame in me." + +When she had thus spoken, Pepita, throwing herself on her knees, bowed +her face till her forehead touched the floor. Don Luis continued in the +same attitude as before. Thus, for some moments, they remained both +silent with the silence of despair. + +In a stifled voice, and without raising her face from the floor, Pepita +after a time continued: + +"Go now, Don Luis, and do not, through an insulting pity, remain any +longer at the side of so despicable a wretch as I. I shall have courage +to bear your indifference, your forgetfulness, your contempt, for I have +deserved them all. I shall always be your slave--but far from you, very +far from you, in order that nothing may recall to your memory the +infamy of this night." + +Pepita's voice, as she ended, was choked with sobs. + +Don Luis could restrain himself no longer. He arose, approached Pepita, +and, raising her in his arms from the floor, pressed her to his heart; +then, putting aside from her face the blond tresses that fell in +disorder over it, he covered it with passionate kisses. + +"Soul of my soul," he said at last, "life of my life, treasure of my +heart, light of my eyes, raise up your dejected brow, and do not +prostrate yourself any longer before me. The sinner, the vile wretch, he +who has shown himself weak of purpose, who has made himself the butt of +scorn and ridicule, is I, not you. Angels and devils alike must laugh at +me and mock me. I have clothed myself with a false sanctity. I was not +able to resist temptation, and to undeceive you in the beginning, as +would have been just, and now I am equally unable to show myself a +gentleman, a man of honor, or a tender lover who knows how to value the +favors of his mistress. I can not understand what it was you saw in me +to attract you. There never was in me any solid virtue--nothing but vain +show and the pedantry of a student who has read pious books as one reads +a novel, and on this foundation has based his foolish romance of a +future devoted to converting the heathen, and to pious meditations. If +there had been in me any solid virtue, I should have undeceived you in +time, and neither you nor I would have sinned. True virtue is not so +easily vanquished. Notwithstanding your beauty, notwithstanding your +intelligence, notwithstanding your love for me, I should not have fallen +if I had been in reality virtuous, if I had had a true vocation. God, to +whom all things are possible, would have bestowed his grace upon me. It +would have needed nothing less than a miracle, or some other +supernatural event, to have enabled me to resist your love, but God +would have wrought the miracle, and I should have been worthy of it, and +a motive sufficient for its being wrought. You are wrong to counsel me +to become a priest. I know my own unworthiness. It was only pride that +actuated me in my desire to be one. It was a worldly ambition, like any +other. What do I say--like any other? It was worse than any other; it +was a hypocritical, a sacrilegious, a simoniacal ambition." + +"Do not judge yourself so harshly," said Pepita, now more tranquil, and +smiling through her tears. "I do not want you to judge yourself thus, +not even for the purpose of making me appear less unworthy to be your +companion. No; I would have you choose me through love--freely; not to +repair a fault, not because you have fallen into the snares you perhaps +think I have perfidiously spread for you. If you do not love me, if you +distrust me, if you do not esteem me, then go. My lips shall not breathe +a single complaint, if you should abandon me forever, and never think of +me again." + +To answer this fittingly, our poor and beggarly human speech was +insufficient for Don Luis. He cut short Pepita's words by pressing his +lips to hers, and again clasping her to his heart. + + * * * * * + +Some time afterward, with much previous coughing and shuffling of the +feet, Antoñona entered the library with the words: + +"What a long talk you must have had! The sermon our student has been +preaching this time can not have been that of the _seven words_--it came +very near being that of the _forty hours_. It is time you should go now, +Don Luis; it is almost two o'clock in the morning." + +"Very well," answered Pepita, "he will go directly." + +Antoñona left the library again, and waited outside. + +Pepita was like one transformed. One might suppose that the joys she had +missed in her childhood, the happiness and contentment she had failed to +taste in her early youth, the gay activity and sprightliness that a +harsh mother and an old husband had repressed, and, as it were, crushed +within her, had suddenly burst into life in her soul, like the green +leaves of the trees, whose germination has been retarded by the snows +and frosts of a long and severe winter. + +A city-bred lady, familiar with what we call social conventionalities, +may find something strange, and even worthy of censure, in what I am +about to relate of Pepita. But Pepita, although refined by instinct, was +a being in whom every feeling was spontaneous, and in whose nature there +was no room for the affected sedateness and circumspection that are +customary in the great world. Thus it was that, seeing the obstacles +removed that had stood in the way of her happiness, and Don Luis +conquered, holding his voluntary promise that he would make her his +wife, and believing herself, with justice, to be loved, nay, worshiped +by him whom she too loved and worshiped, she danced and laughed, and +gave way to other manifestations of joy that had in them, after all, +something childlike and innocent. + +But it was necessary that Don Luis should now depart. Pepita took a comb +and smoothed his hair lovingly, and kissed him. She then rearranged his +neck-tie. + +"Farewell, lord of my life," she said, "dear sovereign of my soul. I +will tell your father everything if you fear to do. He is good, and he +will forgive us." + +At last the lovers separated. + +When Pepita found herself alone, her restless gayety disappeared, and +her countenance assumed a grave and thoughtful expression. + +Two thoughts now presented themselves to her mind, both equally serious; +the one possessing a merely mundane interest, the other an interest of a +higher nature. The first thought was that her conduct to-night--the +delirium of passion once past--might prejudice her in the opinion of Don +Luis; but, finding, after a severe examination of her conscience, that +neither premeditation nor artifice had had any part in her actions, +which were the offspring of an irresistible love, and of impulses noble +in themselves, she came to the conclusion that Don Luis could not +despise her for it, and she therefore made her mind easy on that point. +Nevertheless, although her frank confession that she was unable to +comprehend a love that was purely spiritual, and her taking refuge +afterward in the obscurity of her chamber--without foreseeing +consequences--were both the result of an impulse innocent enough in +itself, Pepita did not seek to deny in her own mind that she had sinned +against God, and on this point she could find for herself no excuse. + +She commended herself with all her heart, therefore, to the Virgin, +entreating her forgiveness. She vowed to the image of Our Lady of +Solitude, in the convent of the nuns, seven beautiful golden swords of +the finest and most elaborate workmanship, to adorn her breast, and +determined to go to confess herself on the following day to the vicar, +and to submit herself to the harshest penance he should choose to impose +upon her, in order to merit the absolution of those sins by means of +which she had vanquished the obstinacy of Don Luis, who, but for them, +would without a doubt have become a priest. + +While Pepita was engaged in these reflections, and while she was +arranging with so much discretion the affairs of her soul, Don Luis had +descended to the hall below, accompanied by Antoñona. + +Before taking his leave, Don Luis, without preface or circumlocution, +spoke thus: + +"Antoñona, tell me, you who are acquainted with everything, who is the +Count of Genazahar, and what has he had to do with your mistress? + +"You begin to be jealous very soon." + +"It is not jealousy that makes me ask this, it is simply curiosity." + +"So much the better. There is nothing more tiresome than jealousy. Well, +I will try to satisfy your curiosity. This same count has given room +enough for talk. He is a dissipated fellow, a gambler, and a man of no +principle whatever, but he has more vanity than Don Roderick on the +gallows. He made up his mind that my mistress should fall in love with +him and marry him, and, as she has refused him a thousand times, he is +mad enough to be tied. This does not prevent him, however, from keeping +in his money-chest more than a thousand dollars that Don Gumersindo lent +him years ago, without any more security than a bit of paper, through +the fault and at the entreaty of Pepita, who is better than bread. The +fool of a count thought, no doubt, that Pepita, who was so good to him +as a wife that she persuaded her husband to lend him money, would be so +much better to him as a widow that she would consent to marry him. He +was soon undeceived, however, and then he became furious." + +"Good-by, Antoñona," said Don Luis, as, now grave and thoughtful, he +left the house. + +The lights of the shops and of the booths in the fair were now +extinguished, and everybody was going home to bed, with the exception of +the owners of the toy-shops, and other poor hucksters, who slept beside +their wares in the open air. + +In some of the grated windows were still to be seen lovers, wrapped in +their cloaks, and chatting with their sweethearts. Almost every one else +had disappeared. + +Don Luis, once out of sight of Antoñona, gave a loose rein to his +thoughts. His resolution was taken, and all his reflections tended to +confirm this resolution. The sincerity and ardor of the passion with +which he had inspired Pepita; her beauty; the youthful grace of her +person, and the fresh exuberance of her soul, presented themselves to +his imagination, and rendered him happy. + +Notwithstanding this, however, he could not but reflect with mortified +vanity on the change that had been wrought in himself. What would the +dean think? How great would be the horror the bishop! And, above all, +how serious were the grounds for complaint he had given his father! The +displeasure of the latter, his anger when he should know of the bond +that bound his son to Pepita, caused him infinite disquietude. + +As for what--before he fell--he had called his fall it must be confessed +that, after he had fallen, it did not seem to him either so very serious +or so very reprehensible. His spiritual-mindedness, viewed in the light +that had just dawned upon him, he fancied to have had neither reality +nor consistency; to have been but the vain and artificial product of his +reading, of his boyish arrogance, of his aimless tenderness in the +innocent days of his college life. When he remembered that he had at +times thought himself the recipient of supernatural gifts and graces, +that he heard mystic whisperings, that his spirit held communion with +superior beings; when he remembered that he had fancied himself almost +beginning to tread the path that leads to spiritual unity, through +contemplation of the Divine, penetrating into the recesses of the soul, +and mounting up to the region of pure intelligence, he smiled to +himself, and began to suspect that during the period in question he had +not been altogether in his right mind. It had all been simply the result +of his own arrogance. He had neither done penance, nor passed long years +in meditation; he did not possess, nor had he ever possessed, sufficient +merits for God to favor him with privileges like these. The greatest +proof he could give himself of the truth of this, the greatest certainty +he could possess that the supernatural favors he had enjoyed were +spurious; mere recollections of the authors he had read, was that not +one of them had ever given him the rapture of Pepita's "I love you," or +of the soft touch of her hand caressing his dark locks. + +Don Luis had recourse to another species of Christian humility to +justify in his eyes what he now no longer called his fall, but his +change of purpose. He confessed himself unworthy to be a priest; he +reconciled himself to being a commonplace married man, a good sort of +country gentleman, like any other, taking care of his vines and olives, +and bringing up his children--for he now desired to have children--and +to being a model husband at the side of his Pepita. + + * * * * * + +Here I think myself again in the necessity--responsible as I am for the +publication and divulgation of this history--of interpolating various +reflections and explanations of my own. + +I said at the beginning of the story that I was inclined to think that +the narrative part, or _paralipomena_, was composed by the reverend dean +for the purpose of completing the story, and supplying incidents not +related in the letters; but I had not at that time read the manuscript +with attention. Now, on observing the freedom with which certain matters +are treated, and the indulgence with which certain frailties are +regarded by the author, I am compelled to ask whether the reverend dean, +with the severity of whose morals I am well acquainted, would have spent +his time in writing what we have just read. + +There are not sufficient grounds, however, for denying positively that +the reverend dean was the author of these _paralipomena_. The question, +therefore, may still be left in doubt, as in substance they contain +nothing opposed to Catholic doctrine or to Christian morality. On the +contrary, if we examine them carefully, we shall see that they contain a +lesson to pride and arrogance, in the person of Don Luis. This history +might easily serve as an appendix to the "Spiritual Disillusions" of +Father Arbiol. + +As for the opinion entertained by two or three ingenious friends of mine +that the reverend dean, if he were the author, would have used a +different style in his narration, saying "my nephew" in speaking of Don +Luis, and interposing, from time to time, moral reflections of his own, +I do not think it an argument of any great weight. The reverend dean +proposed to himself to tell what had taken place, without seeking to +prove any thesis, and he acted with judgment in narrating things as they +were, without analyzing motives or moralizing. He did not do ill, +either, in my opinion, in concealing his personality, and in avoiding +the use of the word _I_, which is a proof, not only of his humility and +modesty, but of his literary taste also, for the epic poets and +historians who should serve us as models, do not say _I_, even when +speaking of themselves, and are themselves the heroes of the events they +relate. The Athenian Xenophon, to cite an instance, does not say _I_ in +his "Anabasis" but speaks of himself in the third person, when +necessary, as if the historian of those exploits were one person, and +the hero of them another. And there are whole chapters in which no +mention at all is made of Xenophon. Only a little before the famous +battle in which the youthful Cyrus met his death, while this prince was +reviewing the Greeks and barbarians who formed his army, and when that +of his brother Artaxerxes was already near, having been descried on the +broad, treeless plain afar off, first as a little white cloud, then as a +black spot, and, finally, clearly and distinctly--the neighing of the +horses, the creaking of the war-chariots armed with formidable scythes, +the cries of the elephants and the sound of warlike instruments reaching +the ears of the spectators, and the glitter of the brass and gold of the +weapons, irradiated by the sun, striking their eyes--only at that +moment, I repeat, and not before, does Xenophon appear in his own +person; then he emerges from the ranks to speak with Cyrus, and explains +to him the cry that ran from Greek to Greek; it was no other than what +in our day we call the watchword; and on that occasion it was "_Jupiter +the Savior, and victory!_" + +The reverend dean, who was a man of taste, and very well versed in the +classics, would not be likely to fall into the error of introducing +himself into the narrative, and mixing himself up with it, under pretext +of being the uncle or tutor of the hero; and of vexing the reader by +coming out at every step a little difficult or slippery, with a "Stop +there!" or "What are you about to do?" or, "Take care you do not fall, +unhappy boy!" or other warnings of a like sort. Not to open his lips, +on the other hand, or manifest disapprobation in any way whatever, he +being present at least in spirit, would, in the case of some of the +incidents related, have been but little becoming. In view of these +facts, the reverend dean, with the discretion which was characteristic +of him, may possibly have composed the _paralipomena_, without +disclosing his identity to the reader. This much is certain, however--he +added notes and comments of an edifying and profitable character, where +such or such a passage seemed to require them. But these I have +suppressed, for the reason that notes and comments are now out of +fashion, and because this little book would be beyond measure voluminous +if it were printed with these additions. + +I shall insert here, however, in the body of the text, the comment of +the reverend dean on the rapid transformation of Don Luis from +spiritual-mindedness to the reverse, as it is curious and throws much +light on the whole matter. + +"This change of purpose of my nephew," he says, "does not disappoint me. +I foresaw it from the time he wrote me his first letters. I was deceived +in regard to Luisito in the beginning. I believed him to have a true +religious vocation; but I soon recognized the fact that his was a vain +poetic spirit. Mysticism was the form his poetic imaginings took, only +until a more adequate form presented itself. + +"Praised be God, who has willed that Luisito should be undeceived in +time! A bad priest he would have made, if Pepita Ximenez had not so +opportunely presented herself. His very impatience to attain to +perfection at a single bound would have caused me to suspect something +if I had not been blinded by the affection of an uncle. What! are the +favors of Heaven thus obtained all at once? Is it only necessary to +present one's self in order to triumph? A friend of mine, a naval +officer, used to relate that, when he was in certain cities of America, +being then very young, he sought to gain favor with the ladies with too +much precipitation, and that they would say to him in their languid +American accent: 'You have but just presented yourself, and you already +want to be loved. Do something to deserve it, if you are able.' If these +ladies answered thus, what answer will not Heaven give to those who hope +to gain it without merit, and in the twinkling of an eye? Many efforts +must be made, much purification is needed, much penance must be done, in +order to begin to stand well in the sight of God, and to enjoy his +favors. Even in those vain and false philosophies that have in them +anything of mysticism, no supernatural gift or grace is received without +a powerful effort and a costly sacrifice. Iamblichus was not given +power to evoke the genii, and cause them to emerge from the fountain of +Gadara, without first spending days and nights in study, and mortifying +the body with privations and abstinences. Apollonius of Tyana is thought +to have mortified himself finely before performing his false miracles. +And in our own day the Krausists, who behold God, as they affirm, with +corporeal vision, are forced to read and learn beforehand the whole +"Analytics" of Sanz del Río, which is a much harder task and a greater +proof of patience and endurance than to flagellate the body until it +looks like a ripe fig. My nephew desired, without effort or merit, to be +a perfect man, and--see how it has ended! The important thing now is +that he shall make a good husband, and that, since he is unsuited for +great things, he may be fit for smaller ones--for domestic life, and to +make Pepita happy, whose only fault, after all, is to have fallen madly +in love with him, with all the ingenuousness and violence of an untamed +creature." + + * * * * * + +Thus far the comments of the reverend dean, written with easy +familiarity, as if for himself alone; for the good man was far from +suspecting that I would play him the trick of giving them to the public. + + * * * * * + +Don Luis, in the middle of the street, at two o'clock in the morning, +was occupied with the thought, as we have said, that his life, that +until now he had dreamed might be worthy of the "Golden Legend," was +about to be converted into a sweet and perpetual idyl. He had not been +able to resist the lures of earthly passion. He had failed to imitate +the example set by so many saints, among others by St. Vincent Ferrer +with regard, to a certain dissolute lady of Valencia; though, indeed, +the cases were dissimilar. For if to flee from the diabolical courtesan +in question was an act of heroic virtue in St. Vincent, to flee from the +self-abandonment, the ingenuousness, and the humility of Pepita would, +in him, have been something as monstrous and cruel as if, when Ruth lay +down at the feet of Boaz, saying to him, "I am thy handmaid; spread +therefore thy skirt over thine handmaid," Boaz had given her a blow and +sent her about her business! Don Luis, then, when Pepita surrendered +herself to him, was obliged to follow the example of Boaz, and exclaim: +"Daughter, blessed be thou of the Lord; thou hast shewed more kindness +in the latter end than at the beginning." Thus did Don Luis justify +himself in not following the example of St. Vincent, and other saints no +less churlish. As for the ill success of the design he had entertained +of imitating St. Edward, he tried also to justify and excuse it. St. +Edward married for reasons of state, and without entertaining any +affection for Queen Edith; but in his case and in that of Pepita +Ximenez there were no reasons of state, but only a tender love on both +sides. + +Don Luis, however, did not deny to himself--and this imparted to his +present happiness a slight tinge of melancholy--that he had proved false +to his ideal; that he had been vanquished in the conflict. Those who +have no ideal, who have never had an ideal, would not distress +themselves on this account. Don Luis did distress himself; but he +presently came to the conclusion that he would substitute a more humble +and easily attained ideal for his former exalted one. And although the +recollection of Don Quixote's resolution to turn shepherd, on being +vanquished by the Knight of the White Moon, here crossed his mind with +ludicrous appositeness, he was in no way daunted by it. He thought, in +union with Pepita Ximenez, to renew, in our prosaic and unbelieving +time, the golden age, and to repeat the pious example of Philemon and +Baucis, creating: a model of patriarchal life in these pleasant fields, +founding in the place where he was born a home presided over by +religion, that should be at once the asylum of the needy, the center of +culture and friendly conviviality, and the clear mirror in which the +domestic virtues should be reflected; joining in one, finally, conjugal +love and the love of God, in order that God might sanctify and be +present in their dwelling, making it the temple in which both should be +his ministers, until, by the will of Heaven, they should be called to a +better life. + +Two obstacles must first be removed, however, before all this could be +realized, and Don Luis began to consider with himself how he might best +remove them. + +The one was the displeasure, perhaps the anger, of his father, whom he +had defrauded of his dearest hopes. The other was of a very different +and, in a certain sense, of a much more serious character. Don Luis, +while he entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was right in +defending Pepita from the gross insults of the Count of Genazahar by the +weapons of argument only, and in taking no vengeance for the scorn and +contempt with which those arguments were listened to. But, having now +determined to lay aside the cassock, and obliged, as he was, to declare +immediately that he was betrothed to Pepita and was going to marry her, +Don Luis, notwithstanding his peaceable disposition, his dreams of human +brotherhood, and his religious belief, all of which remained intact in +his soul, and all of which were alike opposed to violent measures, could +not succeed in reconciling it with his dignity to refrain from breaking +the head of the insolent count. He knew well that dueling is a barbarous +practice; that Pepita had no need of the blood of the count to wash +from her name the stain of calumny; and even that the count himself had +uttered the insults he had uttered, not because he believed them, nor +perhaps through an excess of hatred, but through stupidity and want of +breeding. Notwithstanding all these reflections, however, Don Luis was +conscious that he would never again be able to respect himself, and, as +a consequence, would never be able to perform to his taste the _rôle_ of +Philemon, if he did not begin with that of Furabras, by giving the count +his deserts; asking God, meantime, never again to place him in a similar +position. + +This matter, then, being decided upon, he resolved to bring it to an end +as soon as possible. And as it appeared to him that it would be +inexpedient, as well as in bad taste, to arrange the affair through +seconds, and thus make the honor of Pepita a subject of common talk, he +determined to provoke a quarrel with the count under some other pretext. + +Thinking that the count, being a stranger in the village and a confirmed +gambler, might possibly be still engaged at play in the club-house, +notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Don Luis went straight there. + +The club-house was still open, but, both in the court-yard and the +parlors, the lights were nearly all extinguished. In one apartment only +was there still a light. Thither Don Luis directed his steps, and, on +reaching it, he saw through the open door the Count of Genazahar engaged +in playing _monte_, in which he acted as banker. Only five other persons +were playing; two were strangers like the count; the others were the +captain of cavalry in charge of the remount, Currito, and the doctor. +Things could not have been better arranged to suit the purpose of Don +Luis. So engrossed were the players in their game that they did not +observe him, who, as soon as he saw the count, left the club-house and +went rapidly homeward. + +On reaching his house the door was opened for him by a servant. Don Luis +inquired for his father, and, finding that he was asleep, procured a +light and went up to his own room, taking care to make no noise lest he +should disturb him. There he took some three thousand reals in gold that +he had laid by, and put them in his pocket. He then called the servant +to open the door for him again, and returned to the club-house. + +Arrived there, Don Luis entered the parlor in which the players were, +walking noisily, and giving himself the airs of a fop. The players were +struck with amazement at seeing him. + +"You here, at this hour!" said Currito. + +"Where do you come from, little priest?" said the doctor. + +"Have you come to preach me another sermon?" cried the count. + +"I have done with sermons," returned Don Luis, calmly. "The bad success +of the last one I preached has clearly convinced me that God does not +call me to that path in life, and I have chosen another. You, count, +have wrought my conversion. I have thrown aside the cassock. I wish to +amuse myself; I am in the flower of my youth, and I want to enjoy it." + +"Come, I am glad of that," returned the count; "but take care, my lad, +for, if the flower be a delicate one, it may wither and drop its leaves +before their time." + +"I shall take care of that," returned Don Luis. "I see you are playing; +I feel inspired. You are dealing. Do you know, count, that it would be +amusing if I should break your bank?" + +"You think it would be amusing, eh? You have been dining liberally!" + +"I have dined as I choose to dine." + +"The youngster is learning to answer back." + +"I learn what it is my pleasure to learn." + +"Damnation!" cried the count, and the storm was about to burst, when the +captain, interposing, succeeded in re-establishing the peace. + +"Come," said the count, when he had recovered his temper, "out with your +cash, and try your luck." + +Don Luis seated himself at the table, and took out all his gold. At +sight of it the count regained his serenity completely, for it must have +exceeded in amount the sum he had in the bank, and he already pleased +himself in anticipation with the thought of winning it. + +"There is no need to cudgel one's brains much in this game," said Don +Luis to the count; "I think I understand it already. I put money on a +card, and if the card turns up, I win; and if the card opposed to it +turns up, you win." + +"Just so, my young friend; you have a strong understanding." + +"And the best of it is that I have not only a strong understanding, but +a strong will as well. But, though I may have the stubbornness of the +donkey, I am not the complete donkey that many a one I know of is." + +"What a witty mood you are in to-night, and how anxious you are to +display your wit!" + +Don Luis was silent. He played a few times, and was so lucky as to win +each time. + +The count began to be annoyed. + +"What if the youngster should pluck me?" he said to himself. "Fortune +favors the innocent." + +While the count was troubling himself with this reflection, Don Luis, +feeling fatigued, and weary now of the part he was playing, determined +to end the matter at once. + +"The object of all this," he said, "is to see if I can win all your +gold, or if you can win mine. Is it not so, count?" + +"Just so." + +"Well, then, why should we remain here all night? It is getting late, +and, according to your advice, I ought to retire early, so that the +flower of my youth may not wither before its time." + +"How is this? Do you want to go away already? Do you want to back out?" + +"I have not the slightest desire to back out. Quite the +contrary.--Currito, tell me, in this heap of gold here, is there not +already more than there is in the bank?" + +Currito looked at the gold and answered: + +"Without a doubt." + +"How shall I explain," asked Don Luis, "that I wish to stake on one card +all that I have here, against what there is in the bank?" + +"You do that," responded Currito, "by saying, 'I play _banco!_'" + +"Well, then, I play _banco_," said Don Luis, addressing himself to the +count; "I play _banco_ on this king of spades, whose companion will to a +certainty turn up before his opponent the three does." + +The count, whose whole cash capital was in the bank, began to be alarmed +at the risk he ran; but there was nothing for it but to accept. + +It is a common saying that those who are fortunate in love are +unfortunate at play but the reverse of this is often more nearly the +truth. He who is fortunate in one thing is apt to be fortunate in +everything; it is the same when one is unfortunate. + +The count continued to draw cards, but no _three_ turned up. His +emotion, notwithstanding his efforts to conceal it, was great. Finally, +he came to a card which he knew by the lines at the top to be the king +of hearts, and paused. + +"Draw," said the captain. + +"It is no use! The king of hearts! Curses on it! The little priest has +plucked me. Take up your money." + +The count threw the cards angrily on the table. + +Don Luis took up the money calmly, and with apparent indifference. + +After a short silence the count said: + +"My little priest, you must give me my revenge." + +"I see no such necessity." + +"It seems to me that between gentlemen--" + +"According to that rule the game would have no end," said Don Luis, "and +it would be better to save one's self the trouble of playing +altogether." + +"Give me my revenge," replied the count, without paying any attention to +this argument. + +"Be it so," returned Don Luis; "I wish to be generous." + +The count took up the cards again, and proceeded to deal. + +"Stop a moment," said Don Luis; "let us understand each other. Where is +the money for your new bank?" + +The count showed signs of confusion and disturbance. + +"I have no money here," he returned, "but it seems to me that my word is +more than enough." + +Don Luis answered, with grave and measured accent: + +"Count, I should be quite willing to trust the word of a gentleman, and +allow him to remain in my debt, if it were not that in doing so I should +fear to lose your friendship, which I am now in a fair way to gain; but, +as I was a witness this morning to the cruelty with which you treated +certain friends of mine, to whom you are indebted, I do not wish to run +the risk of becoming culpable in your eyes by means of the same fault. +How ridiculous to suppose that I should voluntarily incur your enmity by +lending you money which you would not repay me, as you have not repaid, +except with insults, that which you owe Pepita Ximenez!" + +From the fact that this accusation was true, the offense was all the +greater. The count became livid with anger, and, by this time on his +feet, ready to come to blows with the collegian. + +"You lie, slanderer!" he exclaimed. "I shall tear you limb from limb, +you----" + +This last insult, which concerned the honor of her whose memory was most +sacred to him, was never finished; its end never reached his ears. For, +with marvelous quickness, dexterity, and force, he reached across the +table which was between himself and the count, and, with the light, +flexible bamboo cane with which he had armed himself, struck his +antagonist on the face, raising on it instantly a dark purple welt. + +There was neither retort, outcry, nor uproar after this. When the hands +come into play, the tongue is apt to be silent. The count was about to +throw himself on Don Luis, for the purpose of tearing him to pieces, if +it were in his power. But opinion had changed greatly since yesterday +morning, and was now on the side of Don Luis. The captain, the doctor, +and even Currito, who now showed more courage than he had done on that +occasion, all held back the count, who struggled and fought ferociously +to release himself. + +"Let me go!" he cried; "let me get at him and kill him!" + +"I do not seek to prevent a duel," said the captain; "a duel is +inevitable. I only seek to prevent your fighting here, like two porters. +I should be wanting in self-respect if I consented to be present at +such a combat." + +"Let weapons be brought!" said the count; "I do not wish to defer the +affair for a single moment. At once--and here!" + +"Will you fight with sabers?" said the captain. + +"Yes," responded Don Luis. + +"Sabers be it," said the count. + +All this was said in a low voice, so that nothing might be heard in the +street. Even the servants of the club-house, who slept on chairs in the +kitchen and in the yard, were not awakened by the noise. + +Don Luis chose as his seconds the captain and Currito; the count chose +the two strangers. The doctor made ready to practice his art, and show +the signal of the Red Cross. + +It was not yet daylight. It was agreed that the apartment in which they +were, should be the field of combat, the door being first closed. The +captain went to his house for the sabers, and returned soon afterward, +carrying them under the cloak which he had put on for the purpose of +concealing them from view. + +We already know that Don Luis had never wielded a weapon in his life. +Fortunately the count, although he had never studied theology, or +entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was not much more skilled +than he in the art of handling the broadsword. + +The only roles laid down for the duel were that, their sabers once in +hand, each of the combatants should use his weapon as Heaven might best +direct him. + +The door of the apartment was closed. The tables and chairs were placed +in a corner, to leave a free field for the combatants, and the lights +were suitably disposed. + +Don Luis and the count divested themselves of their coats and +waistcoats, remaining in their shirt-sleeves, and selected, each one, +his weapon. The seconds stood on one side. At a signal from the captain, +the combat began. Between two persons who know neither how to parry a +stroke nor how to put themselves on guard, a combat must of necessity be +brief; and such this one was. + +The fury of the count, restrained for some time past, now burst forth +and blinded his reason. He was strong, and he had wrists of steel; and +he showered down on Don Luis, with his saber, a rain of blows without +order or sequence. Four times he succeeded in touching Don Luis--each +time, fortunately, with the flat of his weapon. He bruised his +shoulders, but did not wound him. The young theologian had need of all +his strength to keep from falling to the floor, overcome by the force of +the blows and the pain of his bruises. A fifth time the count struck +Don Luis, and this time with the edge of his weapon, although sidewise. +The blood of Don Luis began to flow abundantly. Far from stopping, the +count resumed the attack with renewed fury, in the hope of again +wounding his antagonist. He almost placed himself under the weapon of +Don Luis. The latter, instead of putting himself in position to parry, +brought his sword down vigorously on his adversary, and succeeded in +wounding the count in the head. The blood gushed forth, and ran down his +forehead and into his eyes. Stunned by the blow, the count fell heavily +to the floor. + +The whole combat was a matter of a few seconds. Don Luis had remained +tranquil throughout, like a Stoic philosopher, who is obliged by the +hard law of necessity to take part in a conflict opposed alike to his +habits and his ways of thought. But no sooner did he see his antagonist +extended on the floor, bathed in blood and looking as though he were +dead, than he experienced the most poignant anguish, and feared for a +moment that he should faint. He who, until within the last five or six +hours, had held unwaveringly to his resolution of being a priest, a +missionary, a minister and a messenger of the gospel, had committed, or +accused himself of having committed, during those few hours, every +crime, and of breaking all the commandments of God. There was now no +mortal sin by which he was not contaminated. First, his purpose of +leading a life of perfect and heroic holiness had been put to flight; +then followed his purpose of leading a life of holiness of a more easy, +comfortable, and _bourgeois_ sort. The devil seemed to please himself in +over-throwing his plans. He reflected that he could now no longer be +even a Christian Philemon, for to lay his neighbor's head open with a +stroke of a saber was not a very good beginning of his idyl. + +Don Luis, after the agitations of the day, was now in a condition +resembling that of a man who has brain-fever. Currito and the captain, +one at each side, took hold of him and led him home. + + * * * * * + +Don Pedro de Vargas got out of bed in terror when he was told that his +son had come home wounded. He ran to see him, examined his bruises and +the wound in his arm, and saw that they were none of them attended with +danger; but he broke out into threats of vengeance, and would not be +pacified until he was made acquainted with the particulars of the +affair, and learned that Don Luis had known how to avenge himself in +spite of his theology. + +The doctor came soon after to examine the wound, and was of opinion that +in three or four days' time Don Luis would be able to go out again, as +if nothing had happened. With the count, on the other hand, it would be +a matter of months. His life, however, was in no danger. He had returned +to consciousness, and had asked to be taken to his own village, which +was distant only a league from the village which these events took +place. A hired coach had been procured, and he had been taken thither, +accompanied by his servant, and the two strangers who had acted as his +seconds. + +Four days after the affair the doctor's opinion was justified by the +result, and Don Luis, although sore from his bruises, and with his wound +still open, was in a condition to go out, and promised a complete +recovery within a short time. + +The first duty which Don Luis thought himself obliged to fulfill, as +soon as he was off the sick-list, was to confess to his father his love +for Pepita, and his intention of marrying her. + +Don Pedro had not gone to the country, nor had he occupied himself in +any other way than in taking care of his son during the sickness of the +latter. He was constantly at his side, waiting on him and petting him +with tender affection. + +On the morning of the 27th of June, after the doctor had gone, Don Pedro +being alone with his son, the confession, so difficult for Don Luis to +make, took place in the following manner: + +"Father," said Don Luis, "I ought not to deceive you any longer. To-day +I am going to confess my faults to you, and cast away hypocrisy." + +"If it is a confession you are about to make, my boy, it would be better +for you to send for the reverend vicar. My standard of morality is an +indulgent one, and I shall give you absolution for everything, without +my absolution being of much value to you, however. But if you wish to +confide to me some weighty secret, as to your best friend, begin by all +means; I am ready to listen to you." + +"What I am about to confess to you is a very serious fault of which I +have been guilty; and I am ashamed to--" + +"You have no need to be ashamed before your father; speak frankly." + +Here Don Luis, growing very red, and with visible confusion, said: + +"My secret is, that I am in love with--Pepita Ximenez--and that she--" + +Don Pedro interrupted his son with a burst of laughter, and finished the +sentence for him: + +"And that she is in love with you, and that on the night of St. John's +eve you were with her in tender conference until two o'clock in the +morning, and that, for her sake, you sought a quarrel with the Count of +Genazahar, whose head you have broken. A pretty secret you confide to +me, truly! There isn't a cat or a dog in the village that is not fully +acquainted with every detail of the business. The only thing there +seemed a possibility of being able to conceal was, that your interview +lasted until just two o'clock in the morning; but some gypsy cake-women +chanced to see you leave Pepita's house, and did not stop until they had +told every living creature in the place of it. Pepita, besides, makes no +great effort to conceal the truth, and in this she does well, for that +would be only the concealment of Antequera. Since you have been wounded, +Pepita comes here twice a day, and sends Antoñona two or three times +more to inquire after you; and if they have not come in to see you, it +is because I would not consent to their doing so, lest it should excite +you." + +The confusion and the distress of Don Luis reached their climax when he +heard his father thus compendiously tell the whole story. + +"How surprised," he said, "how astounded you must have been!" + +"No, my boy, I was neither surprised nor astounded. The matter has been +known in the village only for four days, and indeed, to tell the truth, +your transformation did create some surprise. 'Oh, the sly-boots! the +wolf in sheep's clothing! the hypocrite!' every one exclaimed, 'how we +have been deceived in him!' The reverend vicar, above all, is quite +bewildered. He is still crossing himself to think how you toiled in the +vineyard of the Lord on the night of the 23d and the morning of the +24th, and of how diverse a character were your labors. But there was +nothing in these occurrences to surprise me, except your wound. We old +people can feel the grass grow. It is not easy for the chickens to +deceive the huckster." + +"It is true, I sought to deceive you! I have been a hypocrite!" + +"Don't be a fool; I do not say this to blame you. I say it in order to +give myself an air of perspicacity. But let us speak with frankness. My +boasting is, after all, without foundation. I knew, step by step, for +more than two months past, the progress of your love-affair with Pepita; +but I know it because your uncle the dean, to whom you were writing all +that passed within your mind, has communicated it to me. Listen to your +uncle's letter of accusation, and to the answer I gave him, a very +important document, of which I have kept the copy." + +Don Pedro took some papers from his pocket, and read as follows: + + * * * * * + + _The Dean's Letter._ + +"MY DEAR BROTHER: It grieves me to the heart to be obliged to give you a +piece of bad news; but I trust that God will grant you patience and +endurance to enable you to hear it without feeling too much anger or +bitterness. Luisito has been writing me strange letters for some days +past, in which he reveals, in the midst of his mystical exaltation, an +inclination, earthly and sinful enough, toward a certain widow, +charming, mischievous, and coquettish, who lives in your village. Up to +the present I had deceived myself, believing Luisito's vocation to be a +true one; and I flattered myself with giving to the Church of God, in +him, a wise, virtuous, and exemplary priest. But his letters have +dispelled my illusions. Luisito shows himself, in them, to have more of +poetry than of true piety in his nature; and the widow, who must be a +limb of Satan, will be able to vanquish him with but a very slight +effort. Although I write to Luisito admonishing him to flee from +temptation, I am already certain that he will fall into it. This ought +not to grieve me; for, if he is to be false to his vocation, to indulge +in gallantries, and to make love, it is better that this evil +disposition should reveal itself in time, and that he should not become +a priest. I should not, therefore, see any serious objection to +Luisito's remaining with you, for the purpose of being tested by the +touchstone and analyzed in the crucible of such a love, making the +little widow the agent by whose means might be discovered how great is +the quantity of the pure gold of his clerical virtues, and how much +alloy is mixed with that gold, were it not that we are met by the +difficulty that the widow whom we would thus convert into a faithful +assayer, is the object of your own addresses, and, it may be, your +sweetheart. That your son should turn out to be your rival would be too +serious a matter. This would be a monstrous scandal, and, to avoid it in +time, I write to you to-day to the end that, under whatever pretext, you +may send or bring Luisito here--the sooner the better." + +Don Luis listened in silence, and with his eyes cast down. His father +continued: + +"To this letter of the dean I answered as follows: + + * * * * * + + _Don Pedro's Answer._ + +"DEAR BROTHER AND VENERABLE SPIRITUAL FATHER: I return you a thousand +thanks for the news you send me, and for your counsel and advice. +Although I flatter myself with not being wanting in shrewdness, I +confess my stupidity on this occasion; I was blinded by vanity. Pepita +Ximenez, from the time that my son arrived here, manifested toward me so +much amiability and affection that I began to indulge in pleasing hopes +on my own account. Your letter was necessary to undeceive me. I now +understand that in making herself so sociable, in showing me so many +attentions, and in dancing attendance on me, as she did, this cunning +Pepita had in her mind only the father of the smooth-faced theologian. I +shall not attempt to conceal from you that, for the moment, this +disappointment mortified and distressed me a little; but, when I +reflected over it with due consideration, my mortification and my +distress were converted into joy. Luis is an excellent boy. Since he has +been with me, I have learned to regard him with much greater affection +than formerly. I parted from him, and gave him up to you to educate, +because my own life was not very exemplary, and, for this and other +reasons, he would have grown up here a savage. You went beyond my hopes +and even my desires, and almost made of Luisito a father of the Church. +To have a holy son would have flattered my vanity; but I should have +been very sorry to remain without an heir to my house and name, who +would give me handsome grandchildren, and who, after my death, would +enjoy my wealth, which is my glory, for I acquired it by skill and +industry, and not by artifices and tricks. Perhaps the conviction I had +that there was no remedy, and that Luis would inevitably go to convert +the Chinese, the Indians, and the blacks of Monicongo made me resolve on +marrying, so as to provide myself with an heir. Naturally enough, I cast +my eyes on Pepita Ximenez, who is not, as you imagine, a limb of Satan, +but a lovely creature, as innocent as an angel, and ardent in her +nature, rather than coquettish. I have so good an opinion of Pepita +that, if she were again sixteen, with a domineering mother who +tyrannized over her, and if I were eighty, like Don Gumersindo, that is +to say, if death were already knocking at the door, I would marry +Pepita, that her smile might cheer me on my death-bed, as if my guardian +angel had taken human shape in her; and for the purpose of leaving her +my position, my fortune, and my name. But Pepita is not sixteen, but +twenty, nor is she now in the power of that serpent, her mother; nor am +I eighty, but fifty-five. I am at the very worst age, because I begin to +feel myself considerably the worse for wear, with something of asthma, a +good deal of cough, rheumatic pains, and other chronic ailments; yet the +devil a wish have I to die, notwithstanding! I believe I shall not die +for twenty years to come, and, as I am thirty-five years older than +Pepita, you may calculate the miserable future that would await her, +tied to an old man who would live forever. At the end of a few years of +marriage she would be compelled to hate me, notwithstanding her +goodness. Doubtless it is because she is good and wise, that she has not +chosen to accept me for a husband, notwithstanding the perseverance and +the obstinacy with which I have proposed it to her. How much do I not +thank her for this now! Even my self-love, wounded by her scorn, is +soothed by the reflection that, if she does not love me, at least she +loves one of my blood; she is captivated by a son of mine. If this fresh +and luxuriant ivy, I say to myself, refuses to twine around the old +trunk, worm-eaten already, it climbs by it to reach the new sprout it +has put forth--a green and flourishing offshoot. May God bless them +both, and make their love prosper! Far from taking the boy to you again, +I shall keep him here--by force, if it be necessary. I have determined +to conspire against his vocation. I dream already of seeing him married. +I shall grow young again, contemplating the handsome pair, joined +together by love. And how will it be when they shall have given me a +couple of grandchildren? Instead of going as a missionary, and bringing +back to me from Australia, or Madagascar, or India, neophytes black as +soot, with lips the size of your hand, or yellow as deer-skin, and with +eyes like owls, would it not be better for Luisito to preach the gospel +in his own house, and to give me a series of little catechumens, fair, +rosy, with eyes like those of Pepita, who will resemble cherubim without +wings? The catechumens he would bring me from those foreign lands I +should have to keep at a respectful distance, in order not to be +overpowered by their odor; while those I speak of would seem to me like +roses of paradise, and would come to climb up on my knees, and would +call me grand-papa, and pat with their little hands the bald spot I am +beginning to get. What would you have? When I was in all my vigor, I did +not think of domestic joys; but now, that I am approaching old age, if I +have not already entered on it, as I have no intention of turning monk, +I please myself in thinking that I shall play the _rôle_ of patriarch. +And do not imagine, either, that I am going to leave it to time to bring +to a happy close this incipient engagement. No! I shall myself set to +work to do this. Continuing your comparison, since you transform Pepita +into a crucible, and Luis into a metal, I shall find, or rather I have +found already, a bellows, or blow-pipe, very well adapted to kindle up +the fire, so that the metal may melt in it the more quickly. Antoñona +has an understanding with me already, and through her I know that Pepita +is over head and ears in love. We have agreed that I shall continue to +seem blind to everything, and to know nothing of what passes. The +reverend vicar, who is a simple soul, always in the clouds, helps me as +much as Antoñona does, or more, and without knowing it, because he +repeats to Pepita everything Luis says to him, and everything Pepita +says to him to Luis; so that this excellent man, with the weight of +half a century in each foot, has been converted--O miracle of love and +of innocence!--into a carrier-dove by which the two lovers send each +other their flatteries and endearments, while they are as ignorant as he +is of the fact. So powerful a combination of natural and artificial +methods ought to give an infallible result. You will be made acquainted +with this result when I give you notice of the wedding, so that you may +come to perform the ceremony, or else send the lovers your blessing and +a handsome present." + + * * * * * + +With these words Don Pedro finished the reading of his letter; and, on +looking again at Don Luis, he saw that he had been listening to him with +his eyes full of tears. + +Father and son gave each other a long and close embrace. + + * * * * * + +Just a month from the date of this interview, the wedding of Don Luis de +Vargas and Pepita Ximenez took place. + +The reverend dean--fearing the ridicule of his brother at the +spiritual-mindedness of Don Luis having thus come to naught, and +recognizing also that he would not play a very dignified _rôle_ in the +village, where every one would say he had a poor knack at turning out +saints--declined to be present, giving his occupations as an excuse; +although he sent his blessing, and a magnificent pair of ear-rings as a +present for Pepita. + +The reverend vicar, therefore, had the pleasure of marrying her to Don +Luis. + +The bride, elegantly attired, was thought lovely by every one, and was +looked upon as a good exchange for the hair shirt and the scourge. + +That night Don Pedro gave a magnificent ball in the court-yard of his +house and the contiguous apartments. Servants and gentlemen, nobles and +laborers, ladies and country-girls were present, and mingled together, +as if it were the ideal golden age--though why called golden I know not. +Four skillful, or if not skillful at least indefatigable guitar-players +played a _fandango_. Two gypsies, a man and a woman, both famous +singers, sang verses of a tender character and appropriate to the +occasion; and the school-master read epithalamium in heroic verse. + +There were tarts, fritters, jumbles, ginger-bread, sponge-cake, and wine +in abundance for the common people. The gentry regaled themselves selves +with liquors, chocolate, orange cordial, honey, and various kinds of +aromatic and delicate punches. + +Don Pedro was like a boy--sprightly, gallant, and full of jests. It did +not look as if there were much truth in what he had said in his letter +to the dean in regard to his rheumatism and other ailments. He danced +the _fandango_ with Pepita, as also with the most attractive among her +maids and with six or seven of the village girls. He gave each of them, +on reconducting her, tired out, to her seat, the prescribed embrace, and +to the least serious of them a couple of pinches, though this latter +forms no part of the ceremonial. He carried his gallantry to the extreme +of dancing with Doña Casilda, who could not refuse him; who, with her +two hundred and fifty pounds of humanity, and the heat of July, +perspired at every pore. Finally, Don Pedro stuffed Currito so full, and +made him drink so often to the health of the newly married pair, that +the muleteer Dientes was obliged to carry him home to sleep off the +effect of his excesses, slung like a skin of wine across the back of an +ass! + +The ball lasted until three in the morning; but the young couple +discreetly disappeared before eleven, and retired to the house of +Pepita. There Don Luis re-entered, with light, pomp, and majesty, and as +adored lord and master, the room which, little more than a month before, +he had entered in darkness, and filled with terror and confusion. + +Although it is the unfailing use and custom of the village to treat +every widow or widower who marries again to a terrible _charivari_, +leaving them not a moment's rest from the cow-bells during the first +night after marriage, Pepita was such a favorite, Don Pedro was so much +respected, and Don Luis was so beloved, that there were no bells on this +occasion, nor was there the least attempt made at ringing them--a +singular circumstance, which is recorded as such in the annals of the +village. + + + + +EPILOGUE. + +LETTERS OF MY BROTHER + + +The history of Pepita and Luisito should, properly speaking, end here. +This epilogue is not necessary to the story; but, as it formed part of +the bundle of papers left at his death by the reverend dean, although we +refrain from publishing it entire, we shall at least give a sample of +it. + +No one can entertain the least doubt that Don Luis and Pepita, united by +an irresistible love, almost of the same age, she beautiful, he brave +and handsome, both intelligent and full of goodness, would enjoy during +a long life as much peace and happiness as falls to the lot of mortals. +And this supposition, which, for those who have read the preceding +narrative, is a logically drawn deduction from it, is converted into a +certainty for him who reads the epilogue. + +The epilogue gives, besides, some information respecting the secondary +personages of the narrative, in whose fate the reader may possibly be +interested. It consists of a collection of letters addressed by Don +Pedro de Vargas to his brother the dean, dating from the day of his +son's marriage to four years later. + +Without prefixing to them the dates, although following their +chronological order, we shall transcribe here a few short extracts from +these letters, and thus bring our task to an end: + + * * * * * + +Luis manifests the most lively gratitude toward Antoñona, without whose +services he would not now possess Pepita. But this woman, the accomplice +of the sole fault of which either he or Pepita had been guilty in their +lives, living as she did on the most familiar footing in the house, and +fully acquainted with all that had taken place, could not but be in the +way. To get rid of her, then, and at the same time to do her a service, +Luis set to work to bring about a reconciliation between her and her +husband, whose daily fits of drunkenness she had refused to put up with. +The son of Master Cencias gave his promise that he would get drunk +_hardly ever_; but he would not venture on an absolute and +uncompromising _never_. Confiding in this half-promise, however, +Antoñona consented to return to the conjugal roof. Husband and wife +being thus reunited, it occurred to Luis that a homeopathic principle of +treatment might prove efficacious with the son of Master Cencias, in +curing him radically of his vice; for, having heard it affirmed that +confectioners detest sweets, he concluded that, on the same principle, +tavern-keepers ought to detest whisky; and he sent Antoñona and her +husband to the capital of the province, where, at his own cost, he set +them up in a fine tavern. Both live there together happily; they have +succeeded in obtaining many patrons, and will probably become rich. He +still gets drunk occasionally; but Antoñona, who is the stronger of the +two, is accustomed at such times to give him a good trouncing, to help +on his cure. + + * * * * * + +Currito, anxious to imitate his cousin, whom he admires more and more +every day, and seeing and enjoying the domestic felicity of Pepita and +Luis, has looked up a sweetheart in haste, and married the daughter of a +rich farmer of the place, health, fresh, red as a poppy, and who +promises soon to acquire proportions as ample as those of her +mother-in-law Casilda. + + * * * * * + +The Count of Genazahar, after being confined to his bed for five months, +is now cured of his wound, and, according to what they say, is very much +improved in respect to his manners. He paid Pepita, a short time ago, +more than half of his debt to her, and asks for a respite in the payment +of the remainder. + + * * * * * + +We have had a very great grief, although one that we had foreseen for +some time past. The father vicar, yielding to the advance of years, has +passed to a better life. Pepita remained to the last at his bedside, and +closed his eyes with her own beautiful hands. The father vicar died the +death of a blessed servant of the Lord. Rather than death, it seemed a +happy transit to serener regions. Nevertheless, Pepita and all of us +have mourned him sincerely. He has left behind him only a few dollars +and his furniture, for he gave all he had in alms. His death would have +made orphans of the poor of the village, if it were not that Pepita +still lives. + + * * * * * + +Every one in the village laments the death of the reverend vicar; and +there are many who regard him as a real saint, worthy of religious +honors, and who attribute miracles to him. I know not how that may be, +but I do know that he was an excellent man, and that he must have gone +straight to heaven, where we may hope to have in him an intercessor. +With all this, his humility, his modesty, and his fear of God were such +that he spoke of his sins in the hour of death, as if he had in reality +committed any, and he besought our prayers to the Lord and to the Virgin +Mary for their forgiveness. + +A strong impression has been produced on the mind of Luis by the +exemplary life and death of this man. He was simple, it must be +confessed, and of limited intelligence, but of upright will, ardent, +faith, and fervent charity. When Luis compares himself with the vicar, +he feels humiliated. This has infused into his soul a certain bitter +melancholy; but Pepita, who has a great deal of tact, dissipates it with +smiles and caresses. + + * * * * * + +Everything prospers with us. Luis and I have some wine-vaults than which +there are no better in Spain, if we except those of Xeres. The +olive-crop of this year has been superb. We can afford to allow +ourselves every species of luxury; and I counsel Luis and Pepita to make +the tour of Germany, France, and Italy, as soon as Pepita is over her +trouble, and once more in her usual health. The children may, without +improvidence or folly, throw away a few thousands of dollars on the +expedition, and bring back many fine books, pieces of furniture, and +objects of art, to adorn their dwelling. + +We have deferred the baptism for two weeks, in order that it may take +place on the first anniversary of the wedding. The child is a marvel of +beauty, and is very healthy. I am the godfather, and he has been named +after me. I am already dreaming of the time when Periquito shall begin +to talk, and amuse us with his prattle. + +In order that nothing may be wanting to the prosperity of this tender +pair, it turns out now, according to letters received from Havana, that +the brother of Pepita, whose evil ways we feared might disgrace the +family, is almost--and indeed without an _almost_--about to honor and +elevate it by becoming a person of eminence. During all the time in +which we heard nothing from him, he has been profiting by his +opportunities, and fortune has sent him favoring gales. He obtained +another employment in the custom-house; then he trafficked in negroes; +then he failed--an occurrence which for certain business men is like a +good pruning for trees, making them sprout again with fresh vigor--and +now he is so prosperous that he has formed the resolution of entering +the highest circles of the aristocracy, under the title of marquis or +duke. Pepita is frightened and troubled at this unexpected turn of +fortune, but I tell her not to be foolish: if her brother is, and must +in any case be, a rascal, is it not better that he should at least be a +fortunate one? + + * * * * * + +We might thus go on making extracts did we not fear to weary the reader. +We shall end, then, by copying a few passages from one of the latest +letters: + + * * * * * + +My children have returned from their travels in good health. Periquito +is very mischievous and very charming. Luis and Pepita come back +resolved never again to leave the village, though their lives should be +longer than were those of Philemon and Baucis. They are more in love +with each other than ever. + +They have brought back with them articles of furniture, a great many +books, some pictures, and I know not how many other elegant trifles, +purchased in the countries through which they have traveled, and +principally in Paris, Rome, Florence, and Vienna. + +The affection they entertain for each other, and the tenderness and +cordiality with which they treat each other and every one else, have +exercised a beneficent influence on manners here; and the elegance and +good taste with which they are now completing the furnishing of their +house will go far to make exterior culture take root and spread. + +The people in Madrid say that in the country we are stupid and uncouth; +but they remain where they are, and never take the trouble to come and +reform our manners. On the contrary, no sooner does any one make his +appearance in the country who knows or is worth anything, or who thinks +he knows or is worth anything, than he makes every possible effort to +get away from it, and leaves the fields and provincial towns behind him. +Pepita and Luis pursue the opposite course, and I commend them for it +with my whole heart. They are gradually improving and beautifying their +surroundings, so as to make out of this secluded spot a paradise. + +Do not imagine, however, that the inclination of Pepita and Luis for +material well-being has cooled in the slightest degree their religious +feelings. The piety of both grows deeper every day; and in each new +pleasure or satisfaction which they enjoy, or which they can procure for +their fellow-beings, they see a new benefaction of Heaven, in which they +recognize fresh cause for gratitude. More than this, no pleasure or +satisfaction would be such, none would be of any worth, or substance, or +value in their eyes, were it not for the thought of higher things, and +for the firm belief they have in them. + +Luis, in the midst of his present happiness, never forgets the +dethronement of the ideal he had set up for himself. There are times +when his present life seems to him vulgar, selfish, and prosaic, +compared with the life of sacrifice, with the spiritual existence to +which he believed himself called in the first years of his youth. But +Pepita hastens, solicitous, to dispel his melancholy on such occasions; +and then Luis comprehends and acknowledges that it is possible for man +to serve God in every state and condition, and succeeds in reconciling +the lively faith and the love of God that fill his soul, with this +legitimate love of the earthly and perishable. But in the earthly and +perishable he beholds the divine principle, as it were, without which, +neither in the stars that stud the heavens, nor in the flowers and +fruits that beautify the fields, nor in the eyes of Pepita, nor in the +innocence and beauty of Periquito, would he behold anything lovely. The +greater world, all this magnificent fabric of the universe, he declares, +would without its all-seeing God seem to him sublime indeed, but without +order, or beauty, or purpose. And as for the lesser world, as we are +accustomed to call man, neither would he love it were it not for God; +and this, not because God commands him to love it, but because the +dignity of man, and his title to be loved, have their foundation in God +himself, who not only made the soul of man in his own likeness, but +ennobled also his body, making it the living temple of the Spirit, +holding communion with it by means of the sacrament, and exalting it to +the extreme of uniting with it his uncreate Word. In these and other +arguments, which I am unable to set forth here, Luis finds consolation. +He reconciles himself to having relinquished his purpose of leading a +life devoted to pious meditations, ecstatic contemplation, and apostolic +works, and ceases to feel the sort of generous envy with which the +father vicar inspired him on the day of his death; but both he and +Pepita continue to give thanks, with great Christian devoutness, for +the benefits they enjoy, comprehending that not to their own merit do +they owe these benefits, but only to the goodness of God. + +And so my children have in their house a couple of apartments resembling +beautiful little Catholic chapels or oratories: but I must confess that +these chapels have, too, their trace of paganism--an +amorous-pastoral-poetic and Arcadian air, which is to be seen only +beyond city walls. + +The orchard of Pepita is no longer an orchard, but a most enchanting +garden, with its _araucarias_, its Indian fig-trees, that grow here in +the open air, and its well-arranged though small hot-house, full of rare +plants. + +The dining-room in which we ate the strawberries on the afternoon on +which Pepita and Luis saw and spoke with each other for the second time +has been transformed into a graceful temple, with portico and columns of +white marble. Within is a spacious apartment, comfortably furnished, and +adorned by two beautiful pictures. One represents Psyche, discovering, +by the light of her lamp, Cupid asleep on his couch; the other +represents Chloe, when the fugitive grasshopper has taken refuge in her +bosom, where, believing itself secure, it begins to chirp in the +pleasant hiding-place from which Daphne tries, meanwhile, to take it +forth. + +A very good copy, in Carrara marble, of the Venus de' Medici occupies +the most prominent place in the apartment, and, as it were, presides +over it. On the pedestal are engraved, in letters of gold, these words +of Lucretius: + + "_Nec sine te quidquam dias in luminis oras + Exoritur, neque fit lætum, neque amabile quidquam._" + + +THE END. + + +PEPITA XIMENEZ. + +From the Spanish of JUAN VALERA, + +WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THIS EDITION. + + +"Pepita Ximenez," by Señor Don Juan Valera, recently Spanish Minister to +the Government of the United States, is the most successful of recent +novels in Spain, having attained a large number of editions in that +country, and been translated into German, French, Italian, and Bohemian. +Señor Valera is recognized as the most prominent literary man of the +time in Spain. A large number of volumes have come from his pen, all of +which enjoy a great popularity in the author's native land. The present +translation is authorized by Señor Valera, who is admitted by the +publishers to all the rights of a native author. + +=12mo, paper cover. Price, 50 cents.= + + +ALIETTE + +(La Morte). + +From the French of OCTAVE FEUILLET, + +Author of "The Romance of a Poor Young Man," etc., etc. + +_From the London Athenæum._ + +"Not often has a representative of the past in literature obtained a +more decided success over his younger rivals than M. Octave Feuillet has +obtained with 'La Morte.' Of the popularity of the book it is enough to +say that the fiftieth edition was advertised in Paris within two or +three weeks of publication. The important thing is not that 'La Morte' +has commanded so much success, but that it has deserved it. The story is +that of a hero who has two wives--the first an angel, and the second +something quite different from an angel. The first has been brought up +in the straitest sect of Catholics, the second has been educated to +science, and nothing but science. Of course, in this mere contrast there +is nothing very striking or original. But in the way in which M. +Feuillet has linked the fortunes of Bernard de Vaudricourt to the two, +in the gradual increase of the interest and of the tragic force of the +situation, and, lastly, in the writing itself, there is merit of a most +unusual kind." + +=12mo, paper cover, 50 cents; half bound, 75 cents.= + +New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 3, and 6 Bond Street. + + +_A BRILLIANT NEW AMERICAN NOVEL_ + +A CONVENTIONAL BOHEMIAN. + +A NOVEL. By EDMUND PENDLETON. 12mo. Cloth, $1,25. + + +"A Conventional Bohemian" is a society novel, the greater part of the +action taking place at summer cottages on the shores of New England. The +plot of the story is simple, the action direct, the movement often +dramatic. Although a society novel, it reaches at times the heights of +passion, and reveals a remarkable knowledge of the motives and conflicts +of the human heart. The style is noticeable for epigrammatic wit and +wisdom in the lighter scene, and for dramatic power in the serious ones. +There are a number of well-drawn characters, the heroine being a +peculiarly felicitous study, and the hero a virile and striking +portrait. It is a novel sure of many admirers among those who delight in +intellectual subtlety and artistic execution. + + +_"A POWERFUL, WELL-CONSTRUCTED STORY."_ + +THE ALIENS. + +A NOVEL. By HENRY F. KEENAN, author of "Trajan," etc. 12mo. Cloth, +$1.25. + +"The Aliens" is a stirring, picturesque romance, depicting life and +character in strong contrasts, and marked by an affluent and vivid +style. The scene of the story is laid in the western part of the State +of New York, about fifty years ago--the events coming down to the time +of the Mexican War. + +"He colors richly, warmly, and with the dash of an artist; ... and his +characters grow, and are not manufactured; ... the freshest and most +readable American novel of the season."--_Philadelphia Bulletin_. + +"The prevailing merit of the story is the vivid sense of reality which +the writer gives to scenes and characters; ... above all things, +interesting."--_Rochester Post-Express._ + +"Not second to 'Trajan' in character-painting, felicity of diction, +well-managed conversations, pathos, and humor."--_Journal of Commerce._ + +"Thoroughly interesting in plot, and told with equal skill and +animation."--_Boston Gazette_. + +THE NEW TWENTY-FIVE CENT SERIES. + + +THE SECRET OF HER LIFE. By EDWARD JENKINS, author +of "Ginx's Baby," etc. + +FOR MAIMIE'S SAKE. By GRANT ALLEN, author of "Babylon," +etc. + +THE MASTER OF THE MINE. A Novel. By ROBERT +BUCHANAN. + +THE RABBI'S SPELL. A Russo-Jewish Romance. By STUART +C. CUMBERLAND. + +A DARK HOUSE. A Knot Unravelled. By G. MANVILLE FENN. + +A VAGRANT WIFE. A Novel. By FLORENCE WARDEN, author +of "The House on the Marsh," "A Prince of Darkness," etc., etc. + +A PRINCE OF DARKNESS. A Novel. By FLORENCE WARDEN, +author of "The House on the Marsh," etc. + +STRUCK DOWN. A Novel. By HAWLEY SMART, author of "A Race +for a Wife," etc. + +THE MAURICE MYSTERY. A Novel. By J. ESTEN COOKE, +author of "The Virginia Comedians," etc. + +A NEMESIS; or, Tinted Vapors. A Novel. By J. MACLAREN +COBBAN, author of "The Cure of Souls." + +THE TINTED VENUS. A Farcical Romance. By F. ANSTEY, +author of "Vice Versa," "The Giant's Robe," etc. + +THE WITCH'S HEAD. A Novel. By H. R. HAGGARD. + +MATT: A Tale of a Caravan. By ROBERT BUCHANAN. + +ADDIE'S HUSBAND. A Novel. + +THE CRIME OF CHRISTMAS-DAY. A Tale of the +Latin Quarter. By the author of "My Ducats and my Daughter." + +DELDEE; or, The Iron Hand. A Novel. By the author of "The +House on the Marsh" and "At the World's Mercy." + +AT THE WORLD'S MERCY. A Novel. By the author of +"The House on the Marsh." + +THE HOUSE ON THE MARSH. A Romance. + +_12mo, paper covers. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pepita Ximenez + +Author: Juan Valera + +Release Date: October 12, 2009 [EBook #30236] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEPITA XIMENEZ *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at DP Europe (http://dp.rastko.net) + + + + + + +</pre> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<h1>PEPITA XIMENEZ</h1> + +<p class="c smcap"><b>FROM THE SPANISH OF</b></p> + +<h2>JUAN VALERA</h2> + +<p class="c"><b><i>WITH AN INTRODUCTION</i></b><br /> +<b>BY THE AUTHOR</b><br /> +<b>WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THIS EDITION</b></p> + +<p class="c top5"><b>NEW YORK<br /> +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1886</b></p> + +<p class="c"><span class="smcap">COPYRIGHT</span>, 1886,<br /> +<span class="smcap">by</span> D. APPLETON AND COMPANY.</p> + +<p class="toc"><a href="#CONTENTS"><b>CONTENTS</b></a></p> + + +<h3><a name="AUTHORS" id="AUTHORS"></a>AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION.</h3> + +<hr /> + +<p><i>To the Messrs. Appleton.</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Gentlemen</span>: It was my intention to write a preface for the purpose of +authorizing the edition you are about to publish in English of "Pepita +Ximenez"; but, on thinking the matter over, I was deterred by the +recollection of an anecdote that I heard in my young days.</p> + +<p>A certain gallant, wishing to be presented at the house of a rich man +who was about to give a magnificent ball, availed himself for that +purpose of the services of a friend, who boasted of his familiarity with +the great man, and of the favor he enjoyed with him. They proceeded to +the great man's house, and the gallant got his introduction; but the +great man said to him who had introduced the other, "And you, who is to +introduce you, for I am not acquainted with you?" As I entertain a +profound respect and affection for this country, and have not, besides, +the assurance that such an occasion would require, it would not do for +me to say what the <i>introducer</i> of my story is said to have answered, +"I need no one to introduce or to recommend me, for I am just now going +away."</p> + +<p>I infer from my story, as its evident moral, that I ought to refrain +from addressing the public of the United States, to which I am entirely +unknown as an author, notwithstanding the fact of my having maintained +pleasant and friendly relations with its Government as the +representative of my own.</p> + +<p>The most judicious and prudent course I can adopt, then, is to limit +myself to returning you earnest thanks for asking from me an +authorization of which you did not stand in need, either by law or by +treaty, for wishing to make known to your countrymen the least insipid +of the products of my unfruitful genius, and for your generous purpose +of conceding to me author's rights.</p> + +<p>This, however, does not preclude the fact that, in thus expressing my +thanks to you publicly, I incur a responsibility which I did not assume +on any other occasion, either in Germany, Italy, or any other country +where my works have been translated; for then, if they failed to please +the public, although the fact might pain me, I could still shrug my +shoulders, and throw the blame of failure on the translator, or the +publisher; but in this case I make myself your accomplice, and share, or +rather receive, all the disgrace of failure, if failure there should be.</p> + +<p>"Pepita Ximenez" has enjoyed a wide celebrity, not only in Spain, but in +every other Spanish-speaking country. I am very far from thinking that +we Spaniards of the present day are either more easily satisfied, less +cultured than, or possessed of an inferior literary taste to, the +inhabitants of any other region of the globe; but this does not suffice +to dispel my misgivings that my novel may be received with indifference +or with censure by a public somewhat prejudiced against Spain by +fanciful and injurious preconceptions.</p> + +<p>My novel, both in essence and form, is distinctively national and +classic. Its merit—supposing it to have such—consists in the language +and the style, and not in the incidents, which are of the most +commonplace, or in the plot, which, if it can be said to have any, is of +the simplest.</p> + +<p>The characters are not wanting, as I think, in individuality, or in such +truth to human nature as makes them seem like living beings; but, the +action being so slight, this is brought out and made manifest by means +of a subtile analysis, and by the language chosen to express the +emotions, both which may in the translation be lost. There is, besides, +in my novel a certain irony, good-humored and frank, and a certain +humor, resembling rather the humor of the English than the <i>esprit</i> of +the French, which qualities, although happily they do not depend upon +puns, or a play upon words, but are in the subject itself, require, in +order that they may appear in the translation, that this should be made +with extreme care.</p> + +<p>In conclusion, the chief cause of the extraordinary favor with which +"Pepita Ximenez" was received in Spain is something that may fail to be +noticed here by careless readers.</p> + +<p>I am an advocate of art for art's sake. I think it in very bad taste, +always impertinent, and often pedantic, to attempt to prove theses by +writing stories. For such a purpose dissertations or books purely and +severely didactic should be written. The object of a novel should be to +charm, through a faithful representation of human actions and human +passions, and to create by this fidelity to nature a beautiful work. The +object of art is the creation of the beautiful, and whoever applies it +to any other end, of however great utility this end may be, debases it. +But it may chance, through a conjunction of favorable circumstances, by +a happy inspiration, because in a given moment everything is, disposed +as by enchantment, or by supernatural influences, that an author's soul +may become like a clear and magic mirror wherein are reflected all the +ideas and all the sentiments that animate the eclectic spirit of his +country, and in which these ideas and these sentiments lose their +discordance, and group and combine themselves in pleasing agreement and +harmony.</p> + +<p>Herein is the explanation of the interest of "Pepita Ximenez." It was +written when Spain was agitated to its center, and everything was thrown +out of its regular course by a radical revolution that at the same time +shook to their foundations the throne and religions unity. It was +written when everything in fusion, like molten metal, might readily +amalgamate, and be molded into new forms. It was written when the strife +raged fiercest between ancient and modern ideals; and, finally, it was +written in all the plenitude of my powers, when my soul was sanest and +most joyful in the possession of an enviable optimism and an +all-embracing love and sympathy for humanity that, to my misfortune, can +never again find place within my breast.</p> + +<p>If I had endeavored by dialectics and by reasoning to conciliate +opinions and beliefs, the disapprobation would have been general; but, +as the conciliating and syncretic spirit manifested itself naturally in +a diverting story, every one accepted and approved it, each one drawing +from my book the conclusions that best suited himself. Thus it was that, +from the most orthodox Jesuit father down to the most rabid +revolutionist, and from the ultra-Catholic who cherishes the dream of +restoring the Inquisition, to the rationalist who is the irreconcilable +enemy of every religion, all were pleased with "Pepita Ximenez."</p> + +<p>It would be curious, and not inopportune, to explain here how it came +about that I succeeded in pleasing every one without intending it, +without knowing it, and, as it were, by chance.</p> + +<p>There was in Spain, some years ago, a conservative minister who had sent +a godson of his to study philosophy in Germany. By rare good fortune +this godson, who was called Julián Sanz del Río, was a man of clear and +profound intelligence, of unwearied application, and endowed with all +the qualities necessary to make of him a sort of apostle. He studied, he +formulated his system, he obtained the chair of metaphysics in the +University of Madrid, and he founded a school, from which has since +issued a brilliant pleiad of philosophers and statesmen, and of men +illustrious for their learning, their eloquence, and their virtues. +Chief among them are Nicolás Salmerón, Francisco Giner, Gumersindo +Azcárate, Federico de Castro, and Urbano González Serrano.</p> + +<p>The clerical party soon began to stir up strife against the master, the +scholars, and the doctrines taught by them. They accused them of +mystical pantheism.</p> + +<p>I, who had ridiculed, at times, the confused terms, the pomp of words, +and the method which the new philosophers made use of, regarded these +philosophers, nevertheless, with admiration, and took up their +defense—an almost solitary champion—in periodicals and reviews.</p> + +<p>I had already maintained, before this, that our great dogmatic +theologians, and especially the celebrated Domingo de Soto, were more +liberal than the liberal rationalists of the present day, affirming, as +they do, the sovereignty of the people by divine right; for if, as St. +Paul declares, all authority proceeds from God, it does so through the +medium of the people whom God inspires to found it; and because the only +authority that proceeds directly from God is that of the Church.</p> + +<p>I then set myself to demonstrate that, if Sanz del Río and his followers +were pantheists, our mystical theologians of the sixteenth and +seventeenth centuries were pantheists also; and that, if the former had +for predecessors Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and Krause, St. Theresa, St. +John de la Cruz, and the inspired and ecstatic Father Miguel de la +Fuente followed, as their model, Tauler and others of the Germans. In +saying this, however, it was not my intention to deny the claims of any +of these mystical writers as founders of their school in Spain, but only +to recognize, in this unbroken transmission of doctrine, the progressive +continuity of European civilization.</p> + +<p>For the purpose of carrying forward my undertaking, I read and studied +with ardor every Spanish book on devotion, asceticism, and mysticism +that fell into my hands, growing every day more charmed with the +richness of our literature in such works; with the treasures of poetry +contained in them; with the boldness and independence of their authors; +with the profound and delicate observation, in which they excel the +Scotch school, that they display in examining the faculties of the soul; +and with their power of entering into themselves, of penetrating to the +very center of the mind, in order there to behold God, and to unite +themselves with God, not therefore losing their own personality, or +their capacity for an active life, but issuing from the ecstasies and +ravishments of divine love more apt than before for every work that can +benefit the human species, as the steel is more finely tempered, +polished, and bright after it has burned in the fires of the forge.</p> + +<p>Of all this, on its most poetic and easily understood side, I wished to +give a specimen to the Spanish public of to-day, who had forgotten it; +but, as I was a man of my epoch, a layman, not very exemplary as regards +penitential practices, and had the reputation of a freethinker, I did +not venture to undertake doing this in my own name, and I created a +theological student who should do it in his. I then fancied that I could +paint with more vividness the ideas and the feelings of this student by +contrasting them with an earthly love; and this was the origin of +"Pepita Ximenez." Thus, when it was farthest from my thoughts, did I +become a novelist. My novel had, therefore, the freshness and the +spontaneity of the unpremeditated.</p> + +<p>The novels I wrote afterward, with premeditation, are inferior to this +one.</p> + +<p>"Pepita Ximenez" pleased the public also, as I have said, by its +transcendentalism.</p> + +<p>The rationalists supposed that I had rejected the old ideals, as my hero +casts off the clerical garb. And the believers, with greater unanimity +and truth, compared me to the false prophet who went forth to curse the +people of Israel, and without intending it exalted and blessed them. +What is certain is that, if it be allowable to draw any conclusion from +a story, the inference that may be deduced from mine is, that faith in +an all-seeing and personal God, and in the lore of this God, who is +present in the depths of the soul, even when we refuse to follow the +higher vocation to which he would persuade and solicit us—even were we +carried away by the violence of mundane passions to commit, like Don +Luis, almost all the capital sins in a single day—elevates the soul, +purifies the other emotions, sustains human dignity, and lends poetry, +nobility, and holiness to the commonest state, condition, and manner of +life.</p> + +<p>Such is, in my opinion, the novel you are now about to present to the +American public; for I repeat that I have not the right to make the +presentation.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, independent of its transcendentalism, my novel may serve to +interest and amuse your public for a couple of hours, and may obtain +some favor with it; for it is a public that reads a great deal, that is +indulgent, and that differs from the English public—which is eminently +exclusive in its tastes—by its generous and cosmopolitan spirit.</p> + +<p>I have always regarded as a delusion of national vanity the belief that +there is, or the hope that there ever will be, anything that, with +legitimate and candid independence, may be called American literature. +Greece diffused herself throughout the world in nourishing colonies, +and, after the conquests of Alexander, founded powerful states in Egypt, +in Syria, and even in Bactriana, among peoples who, unlike the American +Indians, possessed a high civilization of their own. But, +notwithstanding this dispersion, and this political severance from the +mother-country, the literature of Syracuse, of Antioch, and of +Alexandria was as much Greek literature as was the literature of Athens. +In my opinion, then, and for the same reason, the literature of New York +and Boston will continue to be as much English literature as the +literature of London and Edinburgh; the literature of Mexico and Buenos +Ayres will continue to be as much Spanish literature as the literature +of Madrid; the literature of Rio Janeiro will be as much Portuguese +literature as the literature of Lisbon. Political union may be severed, +but, between peoples of the same tongue and the same race, the ties of +spiritual fraternity are indissoluble, so long as their common +civilization lasts. There are immortal kings or emperors who reign and +rule in America by true divine right, and against whom no Washington or +Bolivar shall prevail—no Franklin succeed in plucking from them their +scepter. These tyrants are called Miguel de Cervantes, William +Shakespeare, and Luiz de Camoëns.</p> + +<p>All this does not prevent the new nation from bringing to the common +fund, and <i>pro indiviso</i>, of the culture of their race, rich elements, +fine traits of character, and perhaps even higher qualities. Thus it is +that I observe, in this American literature, of English origin and +language, a certain largeness of views, a certain cosmopolitanism and +affectionate comprehension of what is foreign, broad as the continent +itself which the Americans inhabit, and which forms a contrast to the +narrow exclusivism of the insular English. It is because of these +qualities that I venture to hope now for a favorable reception of my +little book; and it is in these qualities that I found my hope that the +fruits of Spanish genius in general will, in future, be better known and +more highly esteemed here than in Great Britain.</p> + +<p>Already, to some extent, Irving, Prescott, Ticknor, Longfellow, Howells, +and others have contributed, with judgment and discretion, translating, +criticising, and eulogizing our authors, to the realization of this +hope.</p> + +<p>Forgive my wearying you with this long letter, and believe me to be +sincerely yours,</p> + +<p class="r smcap">Juan Valera.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">New York</span>, <i>April 18, 1886.</i></p> + + + +<h3><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h3> + +<hr /> + +<table summary="toc" +cellpadding="2" +cellspacing="2"> + +<tr><td> </td><td> <a href="#AUTHORS">LETTER OF THE AUTHOR</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td> </td><td> <a href="#PEPITA_XIMENEZ">PEPITA XIMENEZ</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">I.</td><td>—<a href="#I">LETTERS OF MY NEPHEW</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">II.</td><td>—<a href="#II">PARALIPOMENA</a></td></tr> + +<tr><td align="right">III.</td><td>—<a href="#EPILOGUE">EPILOGUE. (LETTERS OF MY BROTHER)</a></td></tr> + +</table> + + + +<h3><a name="PEPITA_XIMENEZ" id="PEPITA_XIMENEZ"></a>PEPITA XIMENEZ</h3> + +<p>"<i>Nescit labi virtus.</i>"</p> + + +<p>The reverend Dean of the Cathedral of ———, deceased a few years since, +left among his papers a bundle of manuscript, tied together, which, +passing from hand to hand, finally fell into mine, without, by some +strange chance, having lost a single one of the documents contained in +it. Inscribed on this manuscript were the Latin words I use above as a +motto, but without the addition of the woman's name I now prefix to it +as its title; and this inscription has probably contributed to the +preservation of the papers, since, thinking them, no doubt, to be +sermons, or other theological matter, no one before me had made any +attempt to untie the string of the package, or to read a single page of +it.</p> + +<p>The manuscript is in three parts. The first is entitled "Letters from my +Nephew"; the second, "Paralipomena"; and the third, "Epilogue—Letters +from my Brother."</p> + +<p>All three are in the same handwriting, which, it may be inferred, is +that of the reverend dean; and, as taken together they form something +like a novel, I at first thought that perhaps the reverend dean wished +to exercise his genius in composing one in his leisure hours; but, +looking at the matter more closely, and observing the natural simplicity +of the style, I am inclined to think now that it is no novel at all, but +that the letters are copies of genuine epistles which the reverend dean +tore up, burned, or returned to their owners, and that the narrative +part only, designated by the biblical title of "Paralipomena," is the +work of the reverend dean, added for the purpose of completing the story +with incidents not related in the letters.</p> + +<p>However this may be, I confess that I did not find the reading of these +papers tiresome; I found them, indeed, rather interesting than +otherwise; and as nowadays everything is published, I have decided to +publish them too, without further investigation, changing only the +proper names, so that if those who bear them be still living they may +not find themselves figuring in a book without desiring or consenting to +it.</p> + +<p>The letters contained in the first part seem to have been written by a +very young man, with some theoretical but no practical knowledge of the +world, whose life was passed in the house of the reverend dean, his +uncle, and in the seminary, and who was imbued with an exalted religious +fervor and an earnest desire to be a priest.</p> + +<p>We shall call this young man Don Luis de Vargas.</p> + +<p>The aforesaid manuscript, faithfully transferred to print, is as +follows.</p> + + + +<h3><a name="I" id="I"></a>I.<br /> +LETTERS FROM MY NEPHEW.</h3> + + +<p class="date"> +<i>March 22d.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Dear Uncle and Venerable Master:</span></p> + +<p>Four days ago I arrived in safety at this my native village, where I +found my father, the reverend vicar, our friends and relations all in +good health. The happiness of seeing them and conversing with them has +so completely occupied my time and thoughts, that I have not been able +to write to you until now.</p> + +<p>You will pardon me for this.</p> + +<p>Having left this place a mere child, and coming back a man, the +impression produced upon me by all those objects that I had treasured up +in my memory is a singular one. Everything appears to me more +diminutive, much more diminutive, but also more pleasing to the eye, +than my recollection of it. My father's house, which in my imagination +was immense, is, indeed, the large house of a rich husbandman, but still +much smaller than the seminary. What I now understand and appreciate +better than formerly is the country around here. The orchards, above +all, are delightful. What charming paths there are through them! On one +side, and sometimes on both, crystal waters flow with a pleasant murmur. +The banks of these streams are covered with odorous herbs and flowers of +a thousand different hues. In a few minutes one may gather a large bunch +of violets. The paths are shaded by majestic trees, chiefly walnut and +fig trees; and the hedges are formed of blackberry-bushes, roses, +pomegranates, and honeysuckle.</p> + +<p>The multitude of birds that enliven grove and field is marvelous.</p> + +<p>I am enchanted with the orchards, and I spend a couple of hours walking +in them every afternoon.</p> + +<p>My father wishes to take me to see his olive-plantations, his vineyards, +his farm-houses; but of all this we have as yet seen nothing. I have not +been outside of the village and the charming orchards that surround it.</p> + +<p>It is true, indeed, that the numerous visits I receive do not leave me a +moment to myself.</p> + +<p>Five different women have come to see me, all of whom were my nurses, +and have embraced and kissed me.</p> + +<p>Every one calls me Luisito, or Don Pedro's boy, although I have passed +my twenty-second birthday; and every one inquires of my father for <i>the +boy</i>, when I am not present.</p> + +<p>I imagine I shall make but little use of the books I have brought with +me to read, as I am not left alone for a single instant.</p> + +<p>The dignity of squire, which I supposed to be a matter for jest, is, on +the contrary, a serious matter. My father is the squire of the village.</p> + +<p>There is hardly any one here who can understand what they call my +caprice of entering the priesthood, and these good people tell me, with +rustic candor, that I ought to throw aside the clerical garb; that to be +a priest is very well for a poor young man, but that I, who am to be a +rich man's heir, should marry, and console the old age of my father by +giving him half a dozen handsome and robust grandchildren.</p> + +<p>In order to flatter my father and myself, both men and women declare +that I am a splendid fellow, that I am of an angelic disposition, that I +have a very roguish pair of eyes, and other stupid things of a like kind +that annoy, disgust, and humiliate me, although I am not very modest, +and am too well acquainted with the meanness and folly of the world to +be shocked or frightened at anything.</p> + +<p>The only defect they find in me is that I am too thin through +over-study. In order to have me grow fat they propose not to allow me +either to study or even to look at a book while I remain here; and, +besides this, to make me eat of as many choice dishes of meats and +confectionery as they know how to concoct in the village.</p> + +<p>It is quite clear—I am to be stall-fed. There is not a single family of +our acquaintance that has not sent me some token of regard. Now it is a +sponge-cake, now a meat-salad, now a pyramid of sweetmeats, now a jug of +sirup.</p> + +<p>And these presents which they send to the house are not the only +attentions they show me. I have also been invited to dinner by three or +four of the principal persons of the village.</p> + +<p>To-morrow I am to dine at the house of the famous Pepita Ximenez, of +whom you have doubtless heard. No one here is ignorant of the fact that +my father is paying her his addresses.</p> + +<p>My father, notwithstanding his fifty-five years, is so well preserved +that the finest young men of the village might feel envious of him. He +possesses, besides, the powerful attraction, irresistible to some women, +of his past conquests, of his celebrity, of having been a sort of Don +Juan Tenorio.</p> + +<p>I have not yet made the acquaintance of Pepita Ximenez. Every one says +she is very beautiful. I suspect she will turn out to be a village +beauty, and somewhat rustic. From what I have heard of her I can not +quite decide whether, ethically speaking, she is good or bad; but I am +quite certain that she is possessed of great natural intelligence. +Pepita is about twenty years old and a widow; her married life lasted +only three years. She was the daughter of Doña Francisca Galvez, the +widow, as you know, of a retired captain</p> + +<p class="poem"> +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Who left her at his death,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">As sole inheritance, his honorable sword,"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>as the poet says. Until her sixteenth year Pepita lived with her mother +in very straitened circumstances—bordering, indeed, upon absolute want.</p> + +<p>She had an uncle called Don Gumersindo, the possessor of a small +entailed estate, one of those petty estates that, in olden times, owed +their foundation to a foolish vanity. Any ordinary person, with the +income derived from this estate, would have lived in continual +difficulties, burdened by debts, and altogether cut off from the display +and ceremony proper to his rank. But Don Gumersindo was an extraordinary +person—the very genius of economy. It could not be said of him that he +created wealth himself, but he was endowed with a wonderful faculty of +absorption with respect to the wealth of others; and, in regard to +dispensing, it would be difficult to find any one on the face of the +globe with whose maintenance, preservation, and comfort, Mother Nature +and human industry ever had less reason to trouble themselves. No one +knows how he lived; but the fact is that he reached the age of eighty +years, saving his entire income, and adding to his capital by lending +money on unquestionable security. No one here speaks of him as a usurer; +on the contrary, he is considered to have been of a charitable +disposition, because, being moderate in all things, he was so even in +usury; and would ask only ten per cent a year, while throughout the +district they ask twenty and even thirty per cent, and still think it +little.</p> + +<p>In the practice of this species of industry and economy, and with +thoughts dwelling constantly on increasing instead of diminishing his +capital, indulging neither in the luxury of matrimony and of having a +family, nor even of smoking, Don Gumersindo arrived at the age I have +mentioned, the possessor of a fortune considerable anywhere, and here +regarded as enormous, thanks to the poverty of these villagers, and to +the habit of exaggeration natural to the Andalusians.</p> + +<p>Don Gumersindo, always extremely neat and clean in his person, was an +old man who did not inspire repugnance.</p> + +<p>The articles of his modest wardrobe were somewhat worn, but carefully +brushed, and without a stain; although from time immemorial he had +always been seen with the same cloak, the same jacket, and the same +trousers and waistcoat. People sometimes asked each other in vain if +any one had ever seen, him wear a new garment.</p> + +<p>With all these defects, which here and elsewhere many regard as virtues, +though virtues in excess, Don Gumersindo possessed excellent qualities; +he was affable, obliging, compassionate, and did his utmost to please +and to be of service to everybody, no matter what trouble, anxiety, or +fatigue it might cost him, provided only it did not cost him money. Of a +cheerful disposition, and fond of fun and joking, he was to be found at +every feast and merry-making around, that was not got up by +contribution, which he enlivened by the amenity of his manners, and by +his discreet although not very Attic conversation. He had never had any +tender inclination for any one woman in particular, but, innocently and +without malice, he loved them all; and was the most given to +complimenting the girls, and making them laugh, of any old man for ten +leagues around.</p> + +<p>I have already said that he was the uncle of Pepita. When he was nearing +his eightieth year, she was about to complete her sixteenth. He was +rich; she, poor and friendless.</p> + +<p>Her mother was a vulgar woman of limited intelligence and coarse +instincts. She worshiped her daughter, yet lamented continually and with +bitterness the sacrifices she made for her, the privations she +suffered, and the disconsolate old age and melancholy end that awaited +her in the midst of her poverty. She had, besides, a son, older than +Pepita, who had a well-deserved reputation in the village as a gambler +and a quarrelsome fellow, and for whom, after many difficulties, she had +succeeded in obtaining an insignificant employment in Havana; thus +finding herself rid of him, and with the sea between them. After he had +been a few years in Havana, however, he lost his situation on account of +his bad conduct, and thereupon began to shower letters upon his mother, +containing demands for money. The latter, who had scarcely enough for +herself and for Pepita, grew desperate at this, broke out into abuse, +cursed herself and her destiny with a perseverance but little resembling +the evangelical virtue, and ended by fixing all her hopes upon settling +her daughter well, as the only way of getting out of her difficulties.</p> + +<p>In this distressing situation Don Gumersindo began to frequent the house +of Pepita and her mother, and to pay attentions to the former with more +ardor and persistence than he had shown in his attentions to other +girls. Nevertheless, to suppose that a man who had passed his eightieth +year without wishing to marry, should think of committing such a folly, +with one foot already in the grave, was so wild and improbable a +notion, that Pepita's mother, still less Pepita herself, never for a +moment suspected the audacious intentions of Don Gumersindo. Thus it was +that both were struck, one day, with amazement, when, after a good many +compliments between jest and earnest, Don Gumersindo, with the greatest +seriousness and without the least hesitation, proposed the following +categorical question:</p> + +<p>"Pepita, will you marry me?"</p> + +<p>Although the question came at the end of a great deal of joking, and +might itself be taken for a joke, Pepita, who, inexperienced though she +was in worldly matters, yet knew by a certain instinct of divination +that is in all women, and especially in young girls, no matter how +innocent they may be, that this was said in earnest, grew as red as a +cherry and said nothing. Her mother answered in her stead:</p> + +<p>"Child, don't be ill-bred; answer your uncle as you should: 'With much +pleasure, uncle; whenever you wish.'"</p> + +<p>This "with much pleasure, uncle—whenever you wish," came then, it is +said, and many times afterward, almost mechanically from the trembling +lips of Pepita, in obedience to the admonitions, the sermons, the +complaints, and even the imperious mandate of her mother.</p> + +<p>I see, however, that I am enlarging too much on this matter of Pepita +Ximenez and her history; but she interests me, as I suppose she should +interest you too, since, if what they affirm here be true, she is to be +your sister-in-law and my step-mother. I shall endeavor, +notwithstanding, to avoid dwelling on details, and to relate briefly +what perhaps you already know, though you have been away from here so +long.</p> + +<p>Pepita Ximenez was married to Don Gumersindo. The tongue of slander was +let loose against her, both in the days preceding the wedding and for +some months afterward.</p> + +<p>In point of fact, ethically considered, this marriage was a matter that +will admit of discussion; but, so far as the girl herself is concerned, +if we remember her mother's prayers, her complaints, and even her +commands—if we take into consideration the fact that Pepita thought by +this means to procure for her mother a comfortable old age, and to save +her brother from dishonor and infamy, constituting herself his guardian +angel and his earthly providence, we must confess that our condemnation +will admit of some abatement. Besides, who shall penetrate into the +recesses of the heart, into the hidden secrets of the immature mind of a +young girl brought up, probably, in the most absolute seclusion and +ignorance of the world, in order to know what idea she might have formed +to herself of marriage? Perhaps she thought that to marry this old man +meant to devote her life to his service, to be his nurse, to soothe his +old age; to save him from a solitude and abandonment embittered by his +infirmities, and in which only mercenary hands should minister to him; +in a word, to cheer and illumine his declining years with the glowing +beams of her beauty and her youth, like an angel who has taken human +form. If something of this, or all of this, was what the girl thought, +and if she failed to perceive the full significance of her act, then its +morality is placed beyond question.</p> + +<p>However this may be, leaving aside psychological investigations that I +have no authority for making, since I am not acquainted with Pepita +Ximenez, it is quite certain that she lived in edifying harmony with the +old man during three years, that she nursed him and waited upon him with +admirable devotion, and that in his last painful and fatal sickness she +ministered to him and watched over him with tender and unwearying +affection, until he expired in her arms, leaving her heiress to a large +fortune.</p> + +<p>Although more than two years have passed since she lost her mother, and +more than a year and a half since she was left a widow, Pepita still +wears the deepest mourning. Her sedateness, her retired manner of +living, and her melancholy, are such that one might suppose she lamented +the death of her husband as much as though he had been a handsome young +man. Perhaps there are some who imagine or suspect that Pepita's pride, +and the certain knowledge she now has of the not very poetical means by +which she has become rich, trouble her conscience with something more +than doubt; and that, humiliated in her own eyes and in those of the +world, she seeks, in austerity and retirement, consolation for the +vexations of her mind, and balm for her wounded heart.</p> + +<p>People here, as everywhere, have a great love of money. Perhaps I am +wrong in saying, <i>as everywhere</i>; in populous cities, in the great +centers of civilization, there are other distinctions which are prized +as much as or even more than money, because they smooth the way to +fortune, and give credit and consideration in the eyes of the world; but +in smaller places, where neither literary nor scientific fame, nor, as a +rule, distinction of manners, nor elegance, nor discretion and amenity +in intercourse, are apt to be either valued or understood, there is no +other way by which to grade the social hierarchy than the possession of +more or less money, or of something worth money. Pepita, then, in the +possession of money, and beauty besides, and making a good use, as every +one says, of her riches, is to-day respected and esteemed in an +extraordinary degree. From this and the surrounding villages, the most +eligible suitors, the wealthiest young men, have crowded to pay their +court to her. But, so far as can be seen, she rejects them all, though +with the utmost sweetness, for she wishes to make no one her enemy; and +it is commonly supposed that her soul is filled with the most ardent +devotion, and that it is her fixed intention to dedicate her life to +practices of charity and religious piety.</p> + +<p>My father, according to the general opinion, has not succeeded better +than her other suitors; but Pepita, to fulfill the adage that "courtesy +and candor are consistent with each other," takes the greatest pains to +give him proofs of a frank, affectionate, and disinterested friendship. +She is unremitting in her attentions to him, and, when he tries to speak +to her of love, she brings him to a stop with a sermon delivered with +the most winning sweetness, recalling to his memory his past faults, and +endeavoring to undeceive him in regard to the world and its vain pomps.</p> + +<p>I confess that I begin to have some curiosity to know this woman, so +much do I hear her spoken of; nor do I think my curiosity is without +foundation, or that there is anything in it either vain or sinful. I +myself feel the truth of what Pepita says; I myself desire that my +father, in his advanced years, should enter upon a better life, should +forget, and not seek to renew the agitations and passions of his youth, +and should attain to the enjoyment of a tranquil, happy, and honorable +old age. I differ from Pepita's way of thinking in one thing only; I +believe my father would succeed in this rather by marrying a good and +worthy woman who loved him, than by remaining single. For this very +reason I desire to become acquainted with Pepita, in order to know if +she be this woman; for I am to a certain extent troubled—and perhaps +there is in this feeling something of family pride, which, if it be +wrong, I desire to divest myself of—by the disdain, however honeyed and +gracious, of the young widow.</p> + +<p>If my situation were other than it is, I should prefer my father to +remain unmarried. Then, being the only child, I should inherit all his +wealth, and, as one might say, nothing less than the position of squire +of the village. But you already know how firm is the resolution I have +taken. Humble and unworthy though I be, I feel myself called to the +priesthood, and the possessions of this world have but little power over +my mind. If there is anything in me of the ardor of youth, and the +vehemence of the passions proper to that age, it shall all be employed +in nourishing an active and fecund charity. Even the many books you have +given me to read, and my knowledge of the history of the ancient +civilizations of the peoples of Asia, contribute to unite within me +scientific curiosity with the desire of propagating the faith, and +invite and animate me to go forth as a missionary to the far East. As +soon as I leave this village, where you, my dear uncle, have sent me to +pass some time with my father, and am raised to the dignity of the +priesthood, and, ignorant and sinner as I am, feel myself invested, by +free and supernatural gift through the sovereign goodness of the Most +High, with the power to absolve from sin, and with the mission to teach +the peoples, as soon as I receive the perpetual and miraculous grace of +handling with impure hands the very God made man, it is my purpose to +leave Spain, and go forth to distant lands to preach the gospel.</p> + +<p>I am not actuated in this by any species of vanity. I do not desire to +believe myself superior to other men. The power of my faith, the +constancy of which I feel myself capable, everything after the favor and +grace of God, I owe to the judicious education, to the holy teaching, +and to the good example I have received from you, my dear uncle.</p> + +<p>There is something I hardly dare confess to myself, but which, against +my will, presents itself with frequency to my mind; and, since it +presents itself to my mind, it is my desire, it is my duty to confess it +to you: it would be wrong for me to hide from you even my most secret +and involuntary thoughts. You have taught me to analyze the feelings of +the soul; to search for their origin, if it be good or evil; to make, in +short, a scrupulous examination of conscience.</p> + +<p>I have often reflected on two different methods of education: that of +those who endeavor to keep the mind in innocence, confounding innocence +with ignorance, and believing evil that is unknown to be avoided more +easily than evil that is known; and that of those, on the other hand, +who courageously, and as soon as the pupil has arrived at the age of +reason, show him, with due regard for modesty, evil in all its hideous +ugliness and repulsive nakedness, to the end that he may abhor and avoid +it. According to my way of thinking, it is necessary to know evil in +order the better to comprehend the infinite divine goodness, the ideal +and unattainable end of every virtuously born desire. I am grateful to +you that you have made me to know, with the honey and the oil of your +teaching, as the Scripture says, both good and evil, to the end that I +should aspire to the one and condemn the other, knowingly and with +discreet ardor. I rejoice that I am no longer in a state of mere +innocence, and that I shall go forward in the progress toward virtue, +and, in so far as is permitted to humanity, toward perfection, with a +knowledge of all the tribulations, all the asperities that there are in +the pilgrimage we are called upon to make through this valley of tears; +as I am not ignorant, on the other hand, of how smooth, how easy, how +pleasant, how flowery, the road is, in appearance, that leads to +perdition and eternal death.</p> + +<p>Another thing for which I feel bound to be grateful to you is the +indulgence, the toleration, not condescending nor lax, but, on the +contrary, grave and severe, with which you have been able to inspire me +for the errors and the sins of my fellow-men.</p> + +<p>I say all this to you because I wish to speak to you on a subject of so +delicate a nature that I hardly find words in which to express myself +concerning it. In short, I often ask myself whether the resolution I +have adopted had not its origin, in part at least, in the character of +my relations with my father. In the bottom of my heart have I been able +to pardon him his conduct toward my poor mother, the victim of his +errors?</p> + +<p>I consider this matter carefully, and I can not find an atom of hatred +in my breast. On the contrary, gratitude fills it entirely. My father +has brought me up affectionately. He has tried to honor in me the memory +of my mother, and one would have said that in my bringing up, in the +care he took of me, in the indulgence with which he treated me, in his +devotion to me as a child, he sought to appease her angry shade—if the +shade, if the spirit of her who was on earth an angel of goodness and +gentleness, could be capable of anger. I repeat, then, that I am full of +gratitude toward my father; he has acknowledged me, and, besides, he +sent me at the age of ten years to you, to whom I owe all that I am.</p> + +<p>If there is in my heart any germ of virtue, if there is in my mind any +element of knowledge, if there is in my will any honorable and good +purpose, to you it is I owe it.</p> + +<p>My father's affection for me is extraordinary; the estimation in which +he holds me is far superior to my merits. Perhaps, vanity may have +something to do with this. In paternal love there is something selfish; +it is, as it were, a prolongation of selfishness. If I were possessed of +any merit, my father would regard it all as a creation of his own, as if +I were an emanation of his personality, as much in spirit as in body. Be +this as it will, however, I believe that my father loves me, and that +there is in his affection something self-sustaining, and superior to all +this pardonable selfishness of which I have spoken.</p> + +<p>I experience a great consolation, a profound tranquillity of +conscience—and for this I return most fervent thanks to God—when I +take cognizance of the fact that the power of blood, the tie of nature, +that mysterious bond that unites us, leads me, without any +consideration of duty, to love my father and to reverence him. It would +be horrible not to love him thus—to be compelled to force myself to +love in order to obey a divine command. Nevertheless—and here comes +back my doubt—does my purpose of becoming a priest or a friar, of not +accepting, or of accepting only a very small part of the immense fortune +that will be mine by inheritance, and which I might enjoy even during my +father's lifetime, does this proceed solely from my contempt of the +things of this world, from a true vocation for a religious life, or does +it not also proceed from pride, from hidden rancor, from resentment, +from something in me that refuses to forgive what my mother herself, +with sublime generosity, forgave? This doubt assails and torments me at +times, but almost always I resolve it in my favor, and come to the +conclusion that I have no feeling of pride toward my father: I think I +would accept from him all he has, if I were to need it, and I rejoice to +be as grateful to him for little as for much.</p> + +<p>Farewell, uncle; in future I will write to you often, and as much at +length as you recommend me, if not quite so much so as to-day, lest I +should appear prolix.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>March 28th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>I begin to be tired of my stay in this place, and every day the desire +grows stronger within me to return to you and to receive my ordination; +but my father wishes to accompany me, he wishes to be present at that +solemn ceremony, and desires that I should remain here with him at least +two months longer. He is so amiable, so affectionate with me, that it +would be impossible for me not to gratify him in all his wishes. I shall +remain here, therefore, for the time he desires. In order to give him +pleasure I do violence to my feelings, and make an effort to seem +interested in the amusements of the village, the country sports, and +even shooting, in all of which I am his companion. I try to appear gayer +and more animated than I am by nature. As, in the village, half in jest, +half by way of eulogy, I am called the saint, I endeavor, through +modesty, to avoid the appearance of sanctity, or to soften and humanize +its manifestations with the virtue of moderation, displaying a serene +and decent cheerfulness which was never yet opposed to holiness nor to +the saints. I confess, nevertheless, that the merry-making and the +sports of these people, with their coarse jokes and boisterous mirth, +weary me. I do not want to fall into the sin of scandal, nor to speak +ill of any one, though it be only to you and in confidence, but I often +think that it would be a more difficult enterprise, as well as a more +rational and meritorious one, to preach the gospel to these people, and +try to elevate their moral nature, than to go to India, Persia, or +China, leaving so many of my country-people behind, who are, if not +perverted, at least to some extent gone astray. Many, indeed, are of the +opinion that modern ideas, that materialism and infidelity, are to blame +for this; but if that be the case, if they it be that produce such evil +effects, then it must be in some strange, diabolical, and miraculous +manner, and not by natural means; since the fact is that here the people +read no books, either good or bad, so that I do not well see how they +can be perverted by any evil doctrines the books in fashion may contain. +Can these evil doctrines be in the air, like a miasma or an epidemic? +Perhaps—and I am sorry this thought, which I mention to you only, +should occur to me—perhaps the clergy themselves are in fault. Are +they, in Spain, equal to their mission? Do they go among the people, +teaching and preaching to them? Are they all capable of this? Have those +who consecrate themselves to a religious life and to the salvation of +souls a true vocation for their calling? Or is it only a means of +living, like any other, with this difference, that in our day only the +poorest, only those who are without expectations and without means, +devote themselves to it, for the very reason that this calling offers a +less brilliant prospect than any other? Be that as it may, the very +scarcity of virtuous and learned priests arouses all the more within me +the desire to be a priest. I would not willingly let self-love deceive +me. I recognize all my defects, but I feel within me a true vocation, +and many of those defects it may still be possible, with the divine +help, to correct.</p> + +<p>The dinner at the house of Pepita Ximenez, which I mentioned to you, +took place three days ago. As she leads so retired a life, I had not met +her before; she seemed to me, in truth, as beautiful as she is said to +be; and I noticed that her amiability with my father was such as to give +him reason to hope, at least judging superficially, that she will yield +to his wishes in the end, and accept his hand.</p> + +<p>As there is a possibility of her becoming my step-mother, I have +observed her with attention; she seems to me to be a remarkable woman, +whose moral qualities I am not able to determine with exactitude. There +is about her an air of calmness and serenity that may come either from +coldness of heart and spirit, with great self-control and power of +calculating effects, accompanied by little or no sensibility, or that +may, on the other hand, proceed from the tranquillity of her conscience +and the purity of her aspirations, united to the purpose of fulfilling +in this life the duties imposed upon her by society, while her hopes are +fixed meantime upon loftier things, as their proper goal. What is +certain is that, either because with this woman everything is the result +of calculation, without any effort to elevate her mind to a higher +sphere, or, it may be, because she blends in perfect harmony the prose +of daily life with the poetry of her illusions, there is nothing +discernible in her out of tone with her surroundings, although she +possesses a natural distinction of manner that elevates her above and +separates her from them all. She does not affect the dress of a +provincial, nor does she, on the other hand, follow blindly the fashions +of the city; she unites both these styles in her mode of dress in such a +manner as to appear like a lady, but still a lady country-born and +country-bred. She disguises to a great extent, as I think, the care she +takes of her person. There is nothing about her to betray the use of +cosmetics or the arts of the toilet. But the whiteness of her hands, the +color and polish of her nails, and the grace and neatness of her attire +denote a greater regard for such matters than might be looked for in one +who lives in a village, and who is said, besides, to despise the +vanities of this world, and to think only of heavenly things.</p> + +<p>Her house is exquisitely clean, and everything in it reveals the most +perfect order. The furniture is neither artistic nor elegant, nor is it, +on the other hand, either pretentious or in bad taste. To give a poetic +air to her surroundings, she keeps in the saloons and galleries, as well +as in the garden, a multitude of plants and flowers. There is not, +indeed, among them any rare plant or exotic, but her plants and flowers, +of the commonest species here, are tended with extraordinary care.</p> + +<p>Canaries in gilded cages enliven the whole house with their songs. Its +mistress, it is obvious, has need of living creatures on which to bestow +some of her affection; and besides several maid-servants that one would +suppose she had selected with care, since it can not be by mere chance +that they are all pretty, she has, after the fashion of old maids, +various animals to keep her company—a parrot, a little dog whose coat +is of the whitest, and two or three cats, so tame and sociable that they +jump up on one in the most friendly manner.</p> + +<p>At one end of the principal saloon is a species of oratory, whose chief +ornament is an <i>Infant Jesus</i>, carved in wood, with red and white cheeks +and blue eyes, and altogether quite handsome. The dress is of white +satin, with a blue cloak full of little golden stars; and the image is +completely covered with jewels and trinkets. The little altar on which +the figure is placed is adorned with flowers, and around it are set pots +of broom and laurel; and on the altar itself, which is furnished with +steps, a great many wax tapers are kept burning. When I behold all this +I know not what to think, but for the most part I am inclined to believe +that the widow loves herself above all things, and that it is for her +recreation, and for the purpose of furnishing her with occasions for the +effusion of this love, that she keeps the cats, the canaries, the +flowers, and even the <i>Infant Jesus</i> itself, which, in her secret soul, +perhaps, does not occupy a place very much higher than the canaries and +the cats.</p> + +<p>It can not be denied that Pepita Ximenez is possessed of discretion. No +silly jest, no impertinent question in regard to my vocation, and, above +all, in regard to my approaching ordination, has crossed her lips. She +conversed with me on matters relating to the village, about agriculture, +the last crop of grapes and olives, and the means of improving the +methods of making wine, expressing herself always with modesty and +naturalness, and without manifesting any desire of appearing to know +more than others.</p> + +<p>There were present at dinner the doctor, the notary, and the reverend +vicar, who is a great friend of the house, and the spiritual father of +Pepita.</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar must have a very high opinion of the latter, for on +several occasions he spoke to me apart of her charity, of the many alms +she bestows, of her compassion and goodness toward every one. In a word, +he declared her to be a saint.</p> + +<p>In view of what the vicar has told me, and relying on his judgment, I +can do no less than wish that my father may marry Pepita. As my father +is not fitted for a life of penance, in this way only could he hope to +change his mode of life, that up to the present has been so dissipated, +and settle down to a well-ordered and quiet, if not exemplary, old age.</p> + +<p>When we reached our house, after leaving that of Pepita Ximenez, my +father spoke to me seriously of his projects. He told me that in his +time he had been very wild, that he had led a very bad life, and that he +saw no way of reforming, notwithstanding his years, unless Pepita were +to fall in love with and marry him.</p> + +<p>Taking for granted, of course, that she would do so, my father then +spoke to me of business. He told me that he was very rich, and would +leave me amply provided for in his will, even though he should have +other children. I answered him that for my plans and purposes in life I +needed very little money, and that my greatest satisfaction would always +consist in knowing him to be happy with wife and children, his former +evil ways forgotten. My father then spoke to me of his tender hopes with +a candor and vivacity that might make one suppose me to be the father +and the old man, and he a youth of my age, or younger. In order to +enhance the merit of his mistress, and the difficulties of his conquest, +he recounted to me the accomplishments and the excellences of the +fifteen or twenty suitors who had already presented themselves to +Pepita, and who had all been rejected. As for himself, as he explained +to me, the same lot, to a certain extent, had been his also; but he +flattered himself that this want of success was not final, since Pepita +showed him so many kindnesses, and an affection so great that, if it +were not love, it might easily, with time, and the persistent homage he +dedicated to her, be converted into love. There was, besides, in my +father's opinion, a something fantastic and fallacious in the cause of +Pepita's coldness, that must in the end wear away. Pepita did not wish +to retire to a convent, nor did she incline to a penitential life. +Notwithstanding her seclusion and her piety, it was easy to see that she +took delight in pleasing. Her neatness and the exquisite care she took +of her person had in them little of the cenobite. The cause of her +coldness, then, my father declared to be, without a doubt, her pride—a +pride, to a certain extent, well founded. She is naturally elegant and +distinguished in appearance; both by her force of character and by her +intelligence she is superior to those who surround her, no matter how +she may seek, through modesty, to disguise it. How, then, should she +bestow her hand upon any of the rustics who, up to the present time, +have been her suitors? She imagines that her soul is filled with a +mystic love of God, and that God only can satisfy it, because thus far +no mortal has crossed her path intelligent enough and agreeable enough +to make her forget even her image of the <i>Infant Jesus</i>. "Although it +may seem to indicate a want of modesty on my part," added my father, "I +flatter myself with being such a one."</p> + +<p>Such, dear uncle, are the occupations and the projects of my father +here, and such the matters, so foreign to my nature, and to my aims and +thoughts, of which he speaks to me with frequency, and on which he +requires me to give an opinion.</p> + +<p>It would almost seem as if your too indulgent opinion of my judgment had +extended itself to the people here, for they all tell me their troubles, +and ask my advice as to the course they should adopt. Even the reverend +vicar, exposing himself to the risk of betraying what might be called +secrets of confession, has already come to consult me in regard to +several cases of conscience that have presented themselves to him in the +confessional.</p> + +<p>One of these cases, related, like all the others, with much mystery, and +without revealing the name of the person concerned, has greatly +interested me.</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar tells me that a certain penitent of his is troubled +by scruples of conscience, because, while she feels herself irresistibly +attracted toward a solitary and contemplative life, she yet fears at +times that this devout fervor is not accompanied by a true humility, but +that it is in part excited by, and has its source in, the demon of pride +himself.</p> + +<p>To love God in all things, to seek him in the inmost recesses of the +soul wherein he dwells, to purify ourselves from all earthly passions +and affections, in order to unite ourselves to him—these are, in truth, +pious aspirations and virtuous inclinations; but the doubt arises in +determining whether the source of these aspirations and inclinations be +not an exaggerated self-love. "Have they their origin," the penitent it +seems asks herself, "in the thought that I, although unworthy and a +sinner, presume my soul to be of more value than the souls of my +fellow-mortals?—that the interior beauty of my mind and of my will +would be dimmed by harboring affection for the human beings by whom I am +surrounded, and whom I deem unworthy of me? Do I love God above all +things, infinitely, or only more than the little things that I know, +and that I scorn and despise, that can not satisfy my heart? If my piety +is founded upon this feeling, then there are in it two great defects: +the first, that it is not based upon a pure love of God, full of +humility and charity, but on pride; and the second, that this piety, +because it is thus without foundation, is unstable and inefficacious. +For who can be certain that the soul will not forget the love of its +Creator, when it does not love him infinitely, but only because there is +no other being whom it deems worthy of endowing with its love?"</p> + +<p>It is concerning this case of conscience, refined and subtle enough thus +to exercise the mind of a simple rustic, that the reverend vicar has +come to consult me. I would have excused myself from saying anything in +the matter, alleging, as a reason for doing so, my youth and +inexperience; but the reverend vicar has shown himself so persistent in +the matter that I could do no less than discuss the question with him. I +said—and it would rejoice me greatly should you concur in my +opinion—that what this troubled penitent requires is to regard those +who surround her with greater benevolence; to try to throw over their +faults—instead of analyzing and dissecting them with the scalpel of +criticism—the mantle of charity, bringing into relief and dwelling upon +their good qualities, to the end that she may esteem and love them; to +endeavor, in fine, to behold in every human being an object worthy of +her love, a true fellow-creature, her equal, a soul wherein there is a +treasure of good qualities and virtues—a being made, in short, in the +image and likeness of God. Entertaining this exalted view of our +surroundings, loving and esteeming others for what they are, and as more +than they are, striving not to hold ourselves superior to them in +anything, but, on the contrary, searching courageously in the depths of +our own conscience for the purpose of discovering all our faults and +sins, and thus acquiring a devout humility and contempt of self, the +heart will feel itself full of human affection, and, instead of +despising, will value highly the worth of things and of persons, so that +if afterward divine love should, with irresistible power, erect itself +upon and tower above this foundation, there can then be no fear but that +such a love has its origin, not in an exaggerated self-esteem, in pride, +or in an unjust contempt for our neighbor, but in a pure and holy +contemplation of the Infinite Beauty and Goodness.</p> + +<p>If, as I suspect, it be Pepita Ximenez who has consulted the reverend +vicar in regard to these doubts and tribulations, I think my father can +not yet flatter himself with being very dear to her; but, if the vicar +should resolve on giving her my advice, and she accepts it and acts upon +it, then she will either become a sort of Maria de Agreda, a +self-conscious recluse, or, what is more probable, she will cast away +mysticism and coldness altogether, and will consent to accept, without +further caviling, the hand and heart of my father who is in no respect +her inferior.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>April 4th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>My life in this place begins, from its monotony, to be wearisome; and +not because it is, physically, less active here than it was elsewhere, +for I walk and ride a great deal, and make excursions into the country, +and, to please my father, visit the club-house and go to parties, and +live, in short, in a state of dissatisfaction with myself and with my +surroundings. But my intellectual life is a blank; I read nothing, and +there is hardly a moment left me in which to reflect and meditate with +tranquillity; and, as reflection and meditation were what constituted +the chief charm of my existence, my life without them seems to me +monotonous. Thanks to the patience which you have recommended to me for +every occasion, I am able to endure it.</p> + +<p>Another thing that prevents my spirit from being completely at rest is +the longing, that becomes every day more ardent within me, to embrace +that life to which, without a moment's vacillation, I have been for +years inclined. It seems to me that, in those moments when I feel +myself so near to the realization of the constant dream of my life, it +is something like a profanation to allow my mind to be distracted by +other objects. So much does this idea torment me, and to so many doubts +does it give rise within me, that my admiration for the beauty of things +created—of the heavens so full of stars, in these serene nights of +spring, and in this favored region of Andalusia; of these smiling +fields, now covered with verdure, and of these cool and pleasant +gardens, abounding in shady and delightful walks, in gently flowing +streams and rivulets, in sequestered nooks, in birds that enliven them +with song, and in flowers and odorous herbs—this admiration and +enthusiasm, I repeat, which formerly seemed to me in perfect harmony +with the religious feeling that filled my soul, animating and exalting +it, instead of weakening it, seems to me now almost a sinful +distraction, and an unpardonable forgetfulness of the eternal for the +temporal, of the uncreated and the spiritual for the material and +created. Although I have made but little progress in virtue, although my +mind is never free from the phantasms of the imagination, although the +interior man is never exempt in me from the influence of external +impressions, and from the need of employing in meditation the fatiguing +argumentative method; although I can not, by an effort of love, withdraw +myself to the very center of pure intelligence, to the loftiest sphere +of thought, in order to behold there goodness and truth divested of +images and forms, yet I confess to you that the method of mental prayer, +unrestricted by set forms, makes me afraid. Even rational meditation +inspires me with distrust. I do not want to employ a process of +reasoning in order to know God, nor to adduce arguments for loving, in +order to love him. I desire, by a single effort of the will, to elevate +myself to and be absorbed in the divine contemplation. Oh, that I had +the wings of a dove, to fly to the bosom of him whom my soul loveth! But +what and where are my merits? Where the mortifications, the extended +prayers, and the fasting? What have I done, O my God, that thou shouldst +favor me?</p> + +<p>I know that the ungodly of the present day accuse—though without any +foundation whatever—our holy religion of inciting souls to abhor the +things of this world, to despise or to contemn nature, perhaps to fear +it also, as if there were in it something diabolical, placing all their +affections on what these ungodly call the monstrous egotism of divine +love, for it is herself, they say, the soul loves in loving God; I know, +too, that this is not the case; that the divine love is charity, and +that to love God is to love all things, for all things are in God, in a +supreme and ineffable manner. I know that I commit no sin in loving +material things for the love of God, which is to love them for +themselves, righteously; for what are material things but the +manifestation, the creation of the love of God? And, notwithstanding, I +know not what undefinable fear, what unwonted scruple, what vague and +scarcely perceptible remorse torments me now, when, as formerly, as in +other days of my youth, as in childhood itself, I feel an effusion of +tenderness, a sort of ecstasy of enthusiasm, on penetrating into some +leafy grove, on hearing the song of the nightingale, or the twittering +of the swallows, or the tender cooing of the dove; on looking at the +flowers, on beholding the stars. I imagine, at times, that there is in +all this something of sensual pleasure, a something that makes me +forget, for the moment at least, more lofty aspirations. I do not desire +that in me the spirit should sin against the flesh; but neither do I +desire, on the other hand, that the beauty of the material world—that +its delights, even those most delicate, subtle, and ethereal ones that +are perceived rather by the spirit than by the senses, such as the soft +sigh of the zephyr, laden with rural scents, the song of the birds, the +peaceful and majestic silence of the night in these gardens and +orchards—should distract me from the contemplation of higher beauty, or +weaken, even for a moment, my love toward Him who has created this +harmonious fabric of the world.</p> + +<p>I know that all these material things are like the letters of a book, +the signs and characters in which the soul, eager for knowledge, may +find a hidden meaning, and decipher and discover the beauty of God that, +though but dimly, is shadowed forth in them, and of which they are the +pictures or rather emblems, because they do not represent, but only +symbolize it. On this distinction I dwell at times to strengthen my +scruples and mortify the flesh. For, I consider, if I love the beauty of +earthly things as they are, it is idolatry; I ought to love this beauty +as a sign, as the symbol of a beauty occult and divine, and infinitely +superior to it in all things.</p> + +<p>A few days ago I completed my twenty-second year. Heretofore, my +religious fervor has been such that I have felt no other love than the +immaculate love of God himself and of his holy religion, which I desire +to diffuse and see triumphant in all the regions of the earth. I confess +that something of a profane sentiment has mingled itself with this +purity of affection. You are aware of this; I have told it to you many +times, and you, regarding me with your accustomed indulgence, have +answered me that man is not an angel, and that even to aspire to so +great a degree of perfection is pride; that I should endeavor to +moderate these sentiments rather than seek to eradicate them entirely. +Love of knowledge, a desire for the reputation which is founded on the +possession of knowledge, even a not unfavorable opinion of one's own +merits, these, even when kept within just bounds, though guarded and +moderated by Christian humility, and directed toward a good end, have in +them, doubtless, something of selfishness, but they may serve as a +stimulus and a support to the noblest and most constant resolutions. The +scruples that trouble my conscience now, therefore, have not their +source in pride, in an overweening self-confidence, in a desire for +worldly fame, or in a too great love of knowledge. Nothing of this +nature it is that troubles me; nothing bearing any relation to +self-conceit, but, in a certain sense, something entirely opposed to it. +I feel a lassitude, a debility and abandonment of the will so great—I +am so ready to weep for tenderness when I see a little flower, when I +contemplate the ray, mysterious, tenuous, and swift, of a remote +star—that it almost makes me afraid.</p> + +<p>Tell me what you think of these things; and if there be not something +morbid in this disposition of my mind.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>April 8th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>The amusements of the country, in which, very much against my will, I am +compelled to take part, still go on.</p> + +<p>My father has taken me to see almost all his plantations, and he and his +friends are astonished to find me not altogether ignorant in matters +pertaining to the country. It would seem as if, in their eyes, the study +of theology, to which I have dedicated myself, were incompatible with a +familiarity with Nature. How much have they not wondered at my +knowledge, on seeing me discriminate, among the vines that have only +just begun to sprout, the common from the choice varieties! How much +have they not wondered, too, at my being able to distinguish, among the +young plants in the fields, the shoots of the barley from those of the +bean; at my being familiar with many fruit and shade trees; at my +knowing the names of many plants, even, that grow spontaneously in the +woods, as well as something of their properties and virtues!</p> + +<p>Pepita Ximenez, who has heard through my father of the delight I take in +the gardens here, has invited me to visit one that she owns at a short +distance from the village, and eat the early strawberries that grow +there. This caprice of Pepita's to show so many little attentions to my +father, while at the same time she declines his addresses, seems to me +at times to partake somewhat of coquetry, and to be worthy of +reprobation. But when next I see her, and find her so natural, so frank +and so simple, this bad opinion is dispelled, and I can not believe her +to have any other end in view than to maintain the friendly relations +that exist between her and our family.</p> + +<p>Be this as it may, yesterday afternoon we went to Pepita's garden. It is +charmingly situated, and as delightful and picturesque a place as one +can imagine. The river, that by means of innumerable drains waters +almost all these gardens, falls into a deep ravine, bordered on both +sides by white and black poplars, osiers, flowering oleanders, and other +leafy trees. The waterfall, clear and transparent, precipitates itself +into this ravine, sending up a cloud of spray, and then follows its +tortuous course by a channel formed for it by Nature herself, enameling +its banks with a thousand plants and flowers, and just now covering them +with a multitude of violets. The declivity at the end of the garden is +full of walnut, hazel, fig, and other fruit trees; and in the level +portion are beds planted with strawberries and vegetables, tomatoes, +potatoes, beans, and peppers. There is also a little flower-garden, with +a great abundance of flowers, of the kinds most commonly cultivated +here. Roses especially abound, and of these there are innumerable +varieties. The house of the gardener is prettier and cleaner than the +houses of its class that one is accustomed to see in this part of the +country; and near it there is another smaller building, dedicated to the +use of the mistress of the place, where Pepita regaled us with a +sumptuous collation. The pretext for this collation was the +strawberries, to eat which was the chief purpose of our visit. The +quantity of strawberries, considering the earliness of the season, was +astonishing. They were served with the milk of goats belonging also to +Pepita.</p> + +<p>There were present at this banquet the doctor, the notary, my aunt +Casilda, my father, and myself, and of course the indispensable vicar, +spiritual father, and, more than spiritual father, admirer and perpetual +eulogist of Pepita.</p> + +<p>By a sort of sybaritic refinement, it was not by the gardener, nor his +wife, nor the son of the gardener, nor by any other rustic, that we were +served at this banquet, but by two lovely girls, confidential servants, +in a manner, of Pepita's, dressed like peasants, but with the greatest +neatness and even elegance. They wore gowns of gay-colored percale, +short, and confined at the waist, and around their shoulders silk +handkerchiefs. Their lustrous and abundant black hair, without covering, +was braided and arranged in a knot behind; and in front they wore curls +confined to the head by large hair-pins, here called <i>caracols</i>. Above +the knot or <i>chignon</i> they each displayed a bunch of fresh roses.</p> + +<p>Pepita's attire, except that it was black and of rich material, was +equally unpretending. Her merino gown, made in the same style as those +of her maids, without being short, was yet not long enough to catch the +dust of the ground. A modest handkerchief of black silk covered also, +according to the usage of the country, her shoulders and bosom; and on +her head she wore no other ornament, either flower or jewel, than that +of her own blonde tresses.</p> + +<p>The only particular, with respect to Pepita, in which I observed a +certain fastidiousness, and in which she departed from the customs of +the country-people, was in wearing gloves. It is evident that she takes +great care of her hands, and is, perhaps, to a certain extent, vain of +their beauty and whiteness, as well as of her rose-colored and polished +nails; but if this be so, it is to be pardoned to the weakness of the +flesh; and indeed, if I remember aright, I think that St. Theresa, in +her youth, had this same species of vanity, which did not prevent her, +however, from becoming a great saint.</p> + +<p>In truth, I can understand, even though I do not excuse, this little +piece of vanity. It is so distinguished, so aristocratic to possess a +beautiful hand! I even think, at times, that there is something +symbolic in it. The hand is the instrument by which we execute our +works, the sign of our nobility, the means by which the intellect gives +form and shape to its artistic conceptions, by which it gives reality to +the mandates of its will, by which it exercises the dominion that God +conceded to man over all other creatures. The rough, strong, sinewy, +horny hand, it may be, of a laborer, a workman, testifies nobly to this +dominion, but on its rudest and least intellectual side. The hands of +Pepita, on the contrary, transparent almost, like alabaster, but +rosy-hued, and in which one can almost see the pure and subtle blood +circulate that gives to the veins their faint, bluish tinge—these +hands, I say, with their tapering fingers, and unrivaled purity of +outline, seem the symbol of the magic power, the mysterious dominion, +that the human spirit holds and exercises, without the intervention of +material force, over all those visible things that are the creation of +God by a direct act of his will, and which man, as the instrument of +God, improves and completes. It would be impossible to suppose that any +one with hands like Pepita's should have an impure thought, a gross +desire, an unworthy purpose at variance with the purity of the hands +that would be called upon to put them into effect.</p> + +<p>It is unnecessary to say that my father appeared as much charmed with +Pepita, and she as attentive and affectionate toward him, as always; +though her affection seemed, perhaps, of a character more filial than he +could have wished. The fact is, that my father, notwithstanding the +reputation he has of being in general but little respectful or reverent +toward women, treats this one woman with such respect and consideration +that not even Amadis, in the most devoted period of his wooing, showed +greater toward Oriana. Not a single word that might shock the ear, no +indelicate or inopportune compliment, no coarse jest, of the kind the +Andalusians permit themselves so frequently to employ, does he ever +indulge in. Hardly does he dare say to Pepita, "What beautiful eyes you +have!" and, indeed, should he say so, he would only speak the truth, for +Pepita's eyes are large, green as those of Circe, expressive, and well +shaped. And what enhances their beauty is that she seems unaware of all +this, for there is not to be detected in her the slightest wish to +please or attract any one by the sweetness of her glances. One would say +she thought eyes were only made to see with, and for no other purpose; +the contrary of what I suppose to be the opinion, according to what I +have heard, of the greater number of young and pretty women, who use +their eyes as a weapon of offense, or as a sort of electric battery, by +means of which to subdue hearts and captivate them. Not like those, +indeed, are Pepita's eyes, wherein dwell a peace and a serenity as of +heaven. And yet it can not be said that there is anything of coldness in +their glance. Her eyes are full of charity and sweetness. They rest with +tenderness on a ray of light, on a flower, on the commonest object in +nature; but with greater tenderness still, with signs of a softer +feeling, more human and benign, do they rest on her fellow-man, without +his daring to imagine in that tranquil and serene glance, however young +or handsome or conceited he may be, anything more than charity and love +toward a fellow-man, or, at most, a friendly preference.</p> + +<p>I sometimes wonder if all this can be studied, and if Pepita be, in +truth, an accomplished actress; but the acting would be so perfect, and +so purposeless the play, that it seems to me, after all, impossible that +this should be the case. Nature herself it is, then, who serves as +teacher and as type for that glance and for those eyes. First, Pepita +loved her mother; then circumstances led her to love Don Gumersindo +through duty, as the companion of her existence; and then, doubtless, +all passion that any earthly object could inspire was extinguished in +her breast, and she loved God, and loved material objects for the love +of God; and so arrived at last at a peaceful and even enviable +condition of spirit, in which, if there be anything to censure, it is +perhaps a certain vanity of which she is herself unconscious. It is very +convenient to love in this mild fashion, without allowing ourselves to +be disturbed by our feelings, to have no passion to combat, to make of +our love and affection for others an addition to, and, as it were, the +complement of self-love.</p> + +<p>I ask myself at times if, when I censure this state of mind in Pepita, +it be not myself I censure. How do I know what passes in the soul of +this woman that I should censure her? Perhaps, in thinking I behold her +soul, it is my own soul that I behold. I never had nor have I now any +passion to conquer. All my virtuous inclinations, all my instincts, good +or bad, tend, thanks to your wise teachings, without obstacle or +impediment, to the furtherance of the one purpose. In the fulfillment of +this purpose, I should find not only my noble and disinterested desires, +but my selfish ones also, satisfied—my love of glory, my desire for +knowledge, my curiosity to see distant lands, my longing for name and +fame. All these are centered in the completing of the career upon which +I have entered. I fancy at times that, in this respect, I am more worthy +of censure than Pepita, supposing her even to be worthy of censure at +all.</p> + +<p>For, as regards myself, I have been invested with the lesser orders; I +have cast out from my soul the vanities of the world; I have received +the tonsure; I have consecrated myself to the service of the altar. Yet +I have a future full of ambition before me, and I dwell with pleasure on +the thought that this future is within my reach. I please myself in +thinking that the conditions I possess for it are real and efficacious; +though I call humility to my aid, at times, to save me from an +overweening self-confidence.</p> + +<p>To what, on the other hand, does this woman aspire, and what are her +hopes? I censure her for the care she takes of her hands, for regarding +her beauty, perhaps, with complacency; I almost censure her for her +neatness, for the attention she bestows on her dress; for a certain +indefinable coquetry there is in the very modesty and simplicity of her +attire. But what! must virtue be slovenly? Must holiness be unclean? Can +not a pure and clean soul rejoice in the cleanliness and purity of the +body also? Is there not something reprehensible in the displeasure with +which I regard the neatness and purity of Pepita? Is this displeasure, +perchance, because she is to be my step-mother? But, perhaps, she does +not wish to be my step-mother! Perhaps she does not love my father! It +is true, indeed, that women are incomprehensible. It may be that in her +secret heart she already feels inclined to return my father's +affection, and marry him, though, in accordance with the saying that +"what is worth much, costs much," she chooses first to torment him with +her affected coldness, to reduce him to unquestioning submission, to put +his constancy to the proof, and then means to end by quietly saying Yes. +We shall see.</p> + +<p>What there is no question about is, that our garden-party was decorously +merry. We talked of flowers, of fruit, of grafts, of planting, and of +innumerable other things relating to husbandry, Pepita displaying her +knowledge of agriculture in rivalry with my father, with myself, and +with the reverend vicar, who listens with open mouth to every word she +utters, and declares that in the seventy-odd years of his life, and +during his many wanderings, in the course of which he has traversed +almost the whole of Andalusia, he has never known a woman more discreet +or more judicious in all she thinks and says than she.</p> + +<p>On returning home from any of these excursions, I renew my entreaties to +my father to allow me to go back to you, in order that the wished-for +moment may at last arrive in which I shall see myself elevated to the +priesthood. But my father is so pleased to have me with him, he is so +happy here in the village, taking care of his plantations, exercising +the judicial and executive authority of squire, paying homage to Pepita, +and consulting her in everything as his Egeria, that he always finds, +and will find perhaps for months to come, some plausible pretext to keep +me here. Now he has to clarify the wine of I know not how many casks; +now he has to decant more wine still; now it is necessary to hoe around +the vines; now to plow the olive-groves and dig around the roots of the +olives; in fine, he keeps me here against my wishes—though I should not +say "against my wishes," for it gives me great pleasure to be with my +father, who is so good to me.</p> + +<p>The evil is, that, with this way of life, I fear I shall grow too +material. I am conscious in my devotions of a certain aridity of spirit. +My religious fervor diminishes; common life begins to penetrate, to +infiltrate itself into my nature; when I pray, I suffer distractions; in +my solitary meditations, when the soul should raise itself up to God, I +can no longer concentrate my thought as formerly. My sensibility of +heart, on the other hand, that refuses to occupy itself with any worthy +object, that does not employ and consume itself on its legitimate ends, +wells forth and, as it were, overflows, at times, for objects and under +circumstances that have something in them of puerile, that seem to me +ridiculous, of which I am ashamed. If I awaken in the silence of the +night and hear by chance some love-lorn rustic singing, to the sound of +his badly played guitar, a verse of a <i>fandango</i> or a <i>rondeña</i>, neither +very discreet, nor very poetical, nor very delicate, I am wont to be +affected as if I were listening to some celestial melody; a feeling of +pity, childish and insensate, comes over me at times. The other day the +children of my father's overseer stole a nest full of young sparrows, +and on seeing the little birds, not yet fledged, torn thus violently +from their tender mother, I felt a sudden pang of anguish, and I confess +I could not restrain my tears. A few days before this, a peasant had +brought in from the fields a calf that had broken its leg; he was about +to carry it to the slaughter-house, and came to ask my father what part +of it he wished for his table. My father answered, the head and the +feet, and a few pounds of the flesh. I was touched by compassion on +seeing the calf, and, but that shame prevented me, would have bought it +from the man, in the hope of curing and keeping it alive. In fine, my +dear uncle, nothing less than the confidence I have with you would make +me recount to you these signs of an extravagant and restless emotion, so +that you may judge by them how necessary it is that I should return to +my former way of life, to my studies, to my lofty speculations, and be +at last elevated to the priesthood, in order to provide with its fit and +proper aliment the fire that consumes my soul.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>April 14th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>I continue to lead the same life as usual, and am detained here still by +my father's entreaties.</p> + +<p>The greatest pleasure I enjoy, after that of being with him, is my +intercourse and conversation with the reverend vicar, with whom I am in +the habit of taking long walks. It seems incredible that a man of his +age—for he must be near eighty—should be so strong and active, and so +good a walker. I grow tired sooner than he; and there is no rough road, +no wild place, no rugged hill-top, in the neighborhood, where we have +not been.</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar is reconciling me, in a great degree, with the +Spanish clergy, whom I have stigmatized, at times, in speaking with you, +as but little enlightened. How much more to be admired, I often say to +myself, is this man, so full of candor and benevolence, so simple and +affectionate, than one who may have read many books, but in whose soul +the flame of charity burns less brightly than, fed by the purest and +sincerest faith, it does in his! Do not suppose from this that the +understanding of the reverend vicar is a limited one; his is a spirit +uncultured, indeed, but clear and sagacious. At times I fancy that the +good opinion I entertain of him may be due to the attention with which +he listens to me; but, if this be not the case, it seems to me that he +reasons on every subject with remarkable perspicacity, and that he knows +how to unite an ardent love of our holy religion with an appreciation of +all the good things that modern civilization has brought us. I am +charmed, above all, by the simplicity, the sobriety of sentiment, the +naturalness, in short, with which the reverend vicar performs the most +disagreeable works of charity. There is no misfortune he does not seek +to alleviate, no suffering he does not strive to console, no error he +does not endeavor to repair, no necessity which he does not hasten +solicitously to relieve.</p> + +<p>In all this, it must be confessed, he has a powerful auxiliary in +Pepita, whose piety and compassionate disposition he is always +extolling.</p> + +<p>This species of homage which the vicar pays to Pepita is founded upon, +and goes side by side with, the practice of a thousand good works—the +giving of alms, prayer, public worship, and the care of the poor. Pepita +not only gives alms for the poor, but also gives money for <i>novenas</i>, +sermons, and other observances of the Church. If the altars of the +parish are gay, at times, with beautiful flowers, these flowers are due +to the bounty of Pepita who has sent them from her garden. If Our Lady +of Sorrows, instead of her old worn cloak, wears to-day a resplendent +and magnificent mantle of black velvet, embroidered with silver, Pepita +it is who has paid for it.</p> + +<p>These, and other similar acts of beneficence, the vicar is always +extolling and magnifying. Thus it is, when I am not speaking of my own +aims, of my vocation, of my studies, to hear about which gives the +reverend vicar great delight, and keeps him hanging upon my words, when +it is he who speaks and I who listen, that, after a thousand turns, he +always ends by speaking of Pepita Ximenez. And of whom, indeed, should +the reverend vicar speak to me? His intercourse with the doctor, with +the apothecary, with the rich husbandmen of the place, hardly gives +motive for three words of conversation. As the reverend vicar possesses +the very rare quality, in one bred in the country, of not being fond of +scandal, or of meddling in other people's affairs, he has no one to +speak of but Pepita, whom he visits frequently, and with whom, as may be +gathered from what he says, he is in the habit of holding the most +familiar colloquies.</p> + +<p>I know not what books Pepita Ximenez has read, nor what education she +may have received; but, from what the reverend vicar says, it may be +deduced that she possesses a restless soul and an inquiring spirit, to +which a multiplicity of questions and problems present themselves that +she longs to elucidate and resolve, bringing them for that purpose +before the reverend vicar, whom she thus puts into a state of agreeable +perplexity.</p> + +<p>This man, educated in country fashion, a priest whose breviary is, as +one may say, his library, possesses an understanding open to the light +of truth, but is wanting in original power, and thus the problems and +questions Pepita presents to him open before him new horizons and new +paths, nebulous and vague indeed, and which he did not even imagine to +exist, which he is not able to follow with exactitude, but whose +vagueness, novelty, and mystery enchant him.</p> + +<p>The vicar is not ignorant of the danger of all this, and that he and +Pepita expose themselves to fall, without knowing it, into some heresy; +but he tranquillizes his conscience with the thought that, although very +far from being a great theologian, he has his catechism at his fingers' +ends, he has confidence in God that he will illuminate his spirit, and +he hopes not to be led into error, and takes it for granted that Pepita +will follow his counsels, and never deviate from the right path.</p> + +<p>Thus do both form to themselves a thousand poetical conceptions, full of +charm, although vague, of all the mysteries of our religion and the +articles of our faith. Great is the devotion they profess to the most +holy Virgin, and I am astonished to see how they are able to blend the +popular idea or conception of the Virgin with some of the sublimest +theological thoughts.</p> + +<p>From what the vicar relates, I can perceive that Pepita Ximenez's soul, +in the midst of its apparent calmness and serenity, is transfixed by the +sharp arrow of suffering; there is in it a love of purity in +contradiction with her past life. Pepita loved Don Gumersindo as her +companion, as her benefactor, as the man to whom she owed everything; +but she is tortured, she is humiliated by the recollection that Don +Gumersindo was her husband.</p> + +<p>In her devotion to the Virgin there may be detected a feeling of painful +humiliation, of suffering, of sadness, produced by the recollection of +her ignoble and childless marriage.</p> + +<p>Even in her adoration of the <i>Infant Jesus</i>, in the beautiful carved +image she has in her house, there is something of maternal love that +lacks an object on which to expend its tenderness, of maternal love that +seeks this object in a being not born of sin and impurity.</p> + +<p>The vicar says that Pepita worships the <i>Infant Jesus</i> as her God, but +that she also loves him with the maternal tenderness she would feel for +a son, if she had one, and whom she had no cause to regard with any +other feeling than affection. The vicar sees that Pepita, in her prayers +to the Holy Virgin, and in her care of her beautiful image of the Child +Jesus, has in her thoughts the ideal Mother and the ideal Son, both +alike immaculate.</p> + +<p>I confess that I know not what to think of all these singularities. I +know so little of women! What the vicar tells me of Pepita surprises me; +and yet, though on the whole I believe her to be good, rather than the +contrary, she inspires me at times with a certain fear on my father's +account. Notwithstanding his fifty-five years, I believe that he is in +love; and Pepita, although virtuous through conviction, may, without +premeditating or intending it, be an instrument of the spirit of evil, +may practice a species of coquetry, involuntary and instinctive, more +irresistible, efficacious, and fatal, than that which proceeds from +premeditation, calculation, and reasoning.</p> + +<p>Who knows, I say to myself at times, notwithstanding her prayers, her +secluded and devout life, her alms and her gifts to the churches, on all +which is based the affection that the vicar entertains for her, if there +be not also an earthly spell, if there be not something of diabolical +magic in the arts she practices, and with which she deludes and beguiles +this simple vicar, so that he thinks and speaks only of her on all +occasions?</p> + +<p>The very influence that Pepita exercises over a man so incredulous as my +father, a man whose nature is so vigorous and so little sentimental, +has in it, in truth, something extraordinary.</p> + +<p>Nor do the good works of Pepita suffice to explain the respect and +affection with which she inspires these country-people in general. On +the rare occasions on which she leaves her house, the little children +run to meet her and kiss her hand; the young girls smile, and salute her +with affection; and the men take off their hats, as she passes, and +incline themselves before her with the most spontaneous reverence and +the most natural good-feeling.</p> + +<p>Pepita Ximenez, whom many of the villagers have known since she was +born, and who, to the knowledge of every one here, lived in poverty with +her mother, until her marriage to the decrepid and avaricious Don +Gumersindo, has caused all this to be forgotten, and is now looked upon +as a wondrous being, a visitant, pure and radiant, from some distant +land, from some higher sphere, and is regarded by her fellow-townspeople +with affectionate esteem, and something like loving admiration.</p> + +<p>I see that I am inadvertently falling into the same fault that I censure +in the reverend vicar, and that I speak to you of nothing but Pepita. +But this is natural. Here no one speaks of anything else. One would +suppose the whole place to be full of the spirit, of the thought, of +the image, of this singular woman, in regard to whom I have not been +able to determine if she be an angel or an accomplished coquette, full +of <i>instinctive astuteness</i>, although the words may seem to involve a +contradiction. For I am fully convicted in my own mind that this woman +does not play the coquette, nor seek to gain the good-will of others, in +order to gratify her vanity.</p> + +<p>Pepita's soul is full of candor and sincerity. One has only to see her, +to be convinced of this. Her dignified and graceful bearing, her slender +figure, the smoothness and clearness of her forehead head, the soft and +pure light of her eyes, all blend into a fitting harmony, in which there +is not a single discordant note.</p> + +<p>How deeply I regret having come to this place, and having remained here +so long! I had passed my life in your house, and in the seminary; I had +seen and known no one but my companions and my teachers; I knew nothing +of the world but through speculation and through theory; and suddenly I +find myself thrown into the midst of this world, though it be only that +of a village; and distracted from my studies, meditations, and prayers +by a thousand profane objects.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>April 20th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Your last letters, dearest uncle, have been a welcome consolation to my +soul. Benevolent, as always, you admonish and enlighten me with prudent +and useful reflections.</p> + +<p>It is true, my impetuosity is worthy of reprobation. I wish to attain my +aims, without making use of the means requisite to their attainment; I +wish to reach the journey's end, without first treading, step by step, +the rough and thorny path.</p> + +<p>I complain of an aridity of spirit in prayer, of inability to fix my +thoughts, of a proneness to dissipate my tenderness on childish objects; +I desire to elevate myself to and be absorbed in God, to attain at once +to the contemplation of essential being, and yet I disdain mental prayer +and rational and discursive meditation. How, without attaining to its +purity, how, without beholding its light, can I hope to enjoy the +delights of divine love?</p> + +<p>I am by nature arrogant, and I shall therefore endeavor to humiliate +myself in my own eyes, in order that God may not suffer the spirit of +evil, in punishment of my pride and presumption, to cover me with +humiliation.</p> + +<p>I do not believe that it would be easy for me to fall into a lapse from +virtue so shameful and unexpected as the one you fear. I do not confide +in myself; I confide in the mercy of God and in his grace; and I trust +they will not fail me.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, you are altogether right in advising me to abstain from +forming ties of friendship with Pepita Ximenez; I am far enough from +being bound to her by any tie.</p> + +<p>I am not ignorant that, when those holy men and saints, who should serve +us as models and examples, were bound in close intimacy and affection +with women, it was in their old age, or when they were already proved +and disciplined by penitence, or when there existed a noticeable +disproportion in years between them and the pious women they elected to +be their friends; as is related of St. Jerome and St. Paulina, and of +St. John of the Cross and St. Theresa. And even thus, even with a purely +spiritual affection, I know it is possible to sin through excess. For +God only should occupy the soul as Lord and Spouse, and any other being +who dwells in it should do so but as the friend, the servant, the +creation of the Spouse, and as one in whom the Spouse delights.</p> + +<p>Do not think, however, that I vaunt myself on being invincible, that I +despise danger, and defy and seek it. He who loves danger shall perish +therein. And if the prophet-king, though so agreeable in the sight of +God and so favored of him, and Solomon, notwithstanding his supernatural +and God-given wisdom, were troubled and fell into sin because God turned +his face away from them, what have not I to fear, miserable sinner that +I am, so young, so inexperienced in the wiles of the devil, and so +wavering and unpracticed in the combats of virtue!</p> + +<p>Filled with a salutary fear of God, and imbued with a fitting distrust +of my own weakness, I shall not be forgetful of your counsels and your +prudent admonitions; and I shall pray, meantime, with fervor, and +meditate on holy things, in order to abhor the things of the world, in +so far as they deserve abhorrence; but of this I may assure you: that, +however deeply I penetrate into the depths of my conscience, however +carefully I search its inmost recesses, I have thus far discovered +nothing to make me share your fears.</p> + +<p>If my former letters are full of encomiums on the virtue of Pepita, it +is the fault of my father and of the reverend vicar, and not mine; for, +at first, far from being friendly to this woman, I was unjustly +prejudiced against her.</p> + +<p>As for the beauty and physical grace of Pepita, be assured that I have +contemplated them with entire purity of thought, and, though it cost me +something to say it, and may cost you a little to hear it, I confess +that, if any cloud has arisen to dim the clear and serene image of +Pepita in the mirror of my soul, it has been owing to your harsh +suspicions, which, for an instant, have almost made me suspect myself.</p> + +<p>But no; what thought have I ever entertained with regard to Pepita, what +have I seen or praised in her that should lead any one to suppose me to +have any other feeling for her than friendship, and the admiration, pure +and innocent, that a work of art may inspire, the more especially if it +be the work of the Supreme Artist, and nothing less than the temple +wherein he dwells?</p> + +<p>Besides, dear uncle, I shall have to live in the world, to hold +intercourse with my fellow-beings, to see them, and I can not, for that +reason, pluck out my eyes. You have told me many times that you wish me +to devote myself to a life of action, preaching the divine law, and +making it known in the world, rather than to a contemplative life in the +midst of solitude and isolation. Well, then, this being so, how would +you have me act, in order to avoid seeing Pepita Ximenez? Unless I made +myself ridiculous by closing my own eyes in her presence, how could I +fail to notice the beauty of hers; the clearness, the roseate hue, and +the purity of her complexion, the evenness and pearly whiteness of her +teeth, which she discloses with frequency when she smiles, the fresh +carmin of her lips, the serenity and smoothness of her forehead, and a +thousand other attractions with which Heaven has endowed her? It is true +that for one who bears within his soul the germ of evil thoughts, the +leaven of vice, any one of the impressions that Pepita produces might be +the shock of the steel against the flint, kindling the spark that would +set fire to and consume all around it; but, prepared for this danger, +watching against it, and guarded with the shield of Christian prudence, +I do not think I have anything to fear. Besides, if it be rash to seek +danger, it is cowardly not to be able to face it, or to shun it when it +presents itself.</p> + +<p>Have no fear; I see in Pepita only a beautiful creation of God; and in +God I love her as a sister. If I feel any predilection for her, it is +because of the praises I hear spoken of her by my father, by the +reverend vicar, and by almost every one here.</p> + +<p>For my father's sake it would please me were Pepita to relinquish her +inclination for a life of seclusion, and her purpose to lead it, and to +marry him. But were it not for this—were I to see that my father had +only a caprice and not a genuine passion for her—then I should be glad +that Pepita would remain resolute in her chaste widowhood; and when I +should be far away from here, in India or Japan or some other yet more +dangerous mission, I might find a consolation in writing to her of my +wanderings and labors; and, when I returned here in my old age, it +would be a great pleasure for me to be on friendly terms with her, who +would also then be aged, and to hold spiritual colloquies with her, and +chats of the same sort as those the father vicar now holds with her. At +present, however, as I am but a young man, I see but little of Pepita; I +hardly speak to her. I prefer to be thought bashful, shy, ill-bred, and +rude, rather than give the least occasion—not that I should be thought +to feel for her in reality what I ought not to feel—but even for +suspicion or for scandal.</p> + +<p>As for Pepita herself, not even in the most remote degree do I share the +apprehension that, as a vague suspicion, you allow me to perceive. What +projects could she form with respect to a man who, in two or three +months more, is to be a priest! She—who has treated so many others with +disdain—why should she be attracted by me? I know myself well, and I +know that, fortunately, I am not capable of inspiring a passion. They +say I am not ill-looking; but I am awkward, dull, shy, wanting in +amiability; I bear the stamp of what I am, a humble student. What am I, +compared with the gallant if somewhat rustic youths who have paid court +to Pepita—agile horsemen, discreet and agreeable in conversation, +Nimrods in the chase, skilled in all bodily exercises, singers of renown +in all the fairs of Andalusia, and graceful and accomplished in the +dance? If Pepita has scorned all these, how should she now think of me, +and conceive the diabolical desire, and the more than diabolical +project, of troubling the peace of my soul, of making me abandon my +vocation, perhaps of plunging me into perdition? No, it is not possible. +Pepita I believe to be good, and myself—and I say it in all +sincerity—insignificant; insignificant, be it understood, so far as +inspiring her with love is concerned, but not too insignificant to be +her friend, to merit her esteem, to be the object, one day, in a certain +sense, of her preference, when I shall have succeeded in making myself +worthy of this preference by a holy and laborious life.</p> + +<p>I ask you to forgive me if I have vindicated myself too warmly from +certain half-expressed suspicions in your letter—suspicions that sound +like accusations, or like prophetic warnings.</p> + +<p>I do not complain of these suspicions: you have given me judicious +advice, the greater part of which I accept, and intend to follow; if you +have gone a little beyond what is just, in your suspicions, it is owing, +without doubt, to the interest you take in me, and for which I am +grateful to you with all my heart.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 4th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>It is strange that in so many days I should not have had time to write +to you, but such is the fact. My father does not let me rest a moment, +and I am besieged by visitors.</p> + +<p>In large cities it is easy to avoid seeing visitors, to isolate one's +self, to create for one's self a solitude, a Thebaid in the midst of the +tumult; in an Andalusian village, and, above all, when one has the honor +of being the son of the squire, it is necessary to live in public. Not +only now to my study, but even to my bedroom, do the reverend vicar, the +notary, my cousin Currito, the son of Doña Casilda, and a hundred +others, penetrate without any one daring to oppose them, waken me if I +am asleep, and carry me off with them wherever they wish.</p> + +<p>The club-house here is not a place of amusement for the evening only, +but for all the hours of the day. From eleven o'clock in the morning it +is full of people, who chat, glance over a paper to learn the news, and +play at <i>hombra.</i> There are persons here who spend ten or twelve hours a +day at this game. In short, there is as much enjoyment here as one could +well desire. In order that this enjoyment may be uninterrupted, there +are a great many amusements. Besides <i>hombra,</i> there are many other +games at cards. Checkers, chess, and dominoes are not neglected. And, +finally, there is a decided passion for cock-fighting.</p> + +<p>All this, together with making calls, going to the fields to inspect the +work, settling accounts every night with the overseer, visiting the +wine-vaults and cask-stores, superintending the clarifying, decanting, +and perfecting of the wines, treating with gypsies and horse-dealers for +the purchase, sale, or barter of horses, mules, and donkeys, or with +dealers from Jeres who come to buy our wine in order to convert it into +sherry, are here the daily occupation of the gentry, squirearchy, or +whatever else they may choose to call themselves. On extraordinary +occasions there are other tasks and amusements that give a greater +appearance of animation to everything: as in harvest-time, at the +vintage, and the gathering in of the olives; or when there is a fair or +a bull-fight, either here or in the neighboring village; or when there +is a pilgrimage to the sanctuary of some miraculous image of the Holy +Virgin, where, if it be true that many go through curiosity, or to amuse +themselves, and give to their sweethearts a fairing of a Cupid or a +scapula, many more go through devotion, or in fulfillment of a vow or +promise. One of these sanctuaries is situated at the top of a very high +mountain, yet there are delicate women who, to reach it, will climb, +with bare feet, wounded by the stones and brambles, the steep and +rugged path that leads to it.</p> + +<p>There is, in the life here, a certain charm. For one who has no desire +for fame, no ambition, I can understand that it might be a very easy and +agreeable life. Even solitude may be obtained by an effort. As I am here +only for a short time, I can neither make this effort, nor ought I to do +so; but if I were settled here, I should find no difficulty in secluding +myself—and that, too, without offending any one—for several hours, or +for the whole day, if it were necessary, in order to devote myself to my +studies and meditations.</p> + +<p>Your last letter has troubled me a little. I see that you persist in +your suspicions, and I know not what answer to make, in order to justify +myself, but the answer I have already made you.</p> + +<p>You say that the victory, in a certain kind of warfare, consists in +flight; that to fly is to conquer. Why should I seek to deny what the +apostle and so many holy fathers and doctors of the Church have said? +But you well know that, in this case, flight does not depend upon me. My +father is resolved that I shall not go; he keeps me here against my +will, and I must obey him. The victory must be gained by other means, +then, than by flight.</p> + +<p>To set your mind at rest, I repeat that matters have not gone so far as +you think; that you see them in a much more advanced stage than they +really are.</p> + +<p>There is not the slightest sign that Pepita Ximenez loves me. And even +did she love me, it would be in a different way from that in which those +women loved whom you cite as a salutary warning to me. A lady of our +times, virtuous and well brought up, is neither so susceptible nor so +wanting in decorum as those matrons of whose adventures ancient history +is full.</p> + +<p>The passage you cite from St. John Chrysostom is indeed worthy of +consideration; but it is not altogether applicable to the circumstances. +The great lady that in Of, Thebes, or Diospolis Magna, fell in love with +the favorite son of Jacob, was in all probability extremely handsome. By +such a supposition only can one comprehend the words of the saint, that +it was a greater miracle that Joseph should have passed through this +ordeal unscathed, than that the three young men whom Nebuchadnezzar +caused to be placed in the fiery furnace were not reduced to ashes!</p> + +<p>As far as beauty is concerned, I confess frankly that I can not think +that the wife of the Egyptian prince, chamberlain of the palace of the +Pharaohs, or whatever else may have been his title, was in any degree +superior to Pepita Ximenez. But neither am I endowed with as many gifts +and excellences as was Joseph, nor is Pepita a woman without religion +and without decorum. And even were the circumstances such as he relates, +were all those horrors true, I can only account for the exaggerated +language of St. John Chrysostom by the fact that he lived in the corrupt +capital, half Gentile still, of the Lower Empire, in the midst of that +court whose vices he so harshly censures, and where even the Empress +Eudoxia herself gave an example of scandal and corruption.</p> + +<p>But in our day, when the morality taught in the gospel has penetrated +more deeply into the strata of society, it seems to me an exaggeration +to think the chaste scorn of the son of Jacob any more miraculous than +the material incombustibility of the three young men of Babylon.</p> + +<p>There is one point on which you touch in your letter that encourages and +pleases me greatly. You condemn, as is right, the exaggerated +sentimentality, and the tendency to be easily moved and to weep from +childish motives, from which I told you that I suffered at times; but, +since this disposition of soul, so necessary to combat, exists in me, +you rejoice that it does not affect my prayers and meditations, and +contaminate them. You recognize and praise in me the virile energy that +should animate the passions and the mind that seek to elevate themselves +to God.</p> + +<p>The intelligence that strives to comprehend him must be a vigorous one; +the will that submits itself entirely to him must first have triumphed, +fighting bravely against every appetite, and defeating and putting to +flight every temptation over self. The very passion that, purified and +ardent, has power, even in weak and miserable mortals, to exalt itself, +by an ecstasy of love, to God himself, attaining by a supernatural +illumination to the knowledge of him, is the offspring of a steadfast +and upright character, as well as of the divine grace. This languor, +this debility of the will, this morbid tenderness have nothing in them +in common with charity, with piety, or with divine love. The former are +the attributes of a nature less than feminine; the latter are passions, +if passions they can be called, of angels rather than of men. God will +be my surety, and with his help I will fight for my own salvation. But, +should I sink into perdition, not in disguise nor by capitulation shall +the enemies of the soul and the sins of the flesh enter into the +fortress of my conscience, but with banners flying, laying waste +everything before them by fire and sword, and after a desperate +conflict.</p> + +<p>In the past few days I have had occasion to practice patience in an +extreme degree, and to mortify my self-love in the most cruel manner. My +father, wishing to reciprocate Pepita's compliment of the garden-party, +invited her to visit his villa of the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i>. The excursion +took place on the 22d of April. I shall not soon forget that date.</p> + +<p>The <i>Pozo de la Solana</i> is about two leagues distant from the village, +and the only road to it is a bridle-path. We all had to go on horseback. +As I never learned to ride, I had on former occasions accompanied my +father mounted on a pacing mule, gentle and, according to the expression +of Dientes the muleteer, as good as gold, and of easier motion than a +carriage. On the journey to the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i> I went in the same +manner.</p> + +<p>My father, the notary, the apothecary, and my cousin Currito, were +mounted on good horses. My aunt, Doña Casilda, who weighs more than two +hundred and fifty pounds, rode on a large and powerful donkey, seated in +a commodious side-saddle. The reverend vicar rode a gentle and easy mule +like mine.</p> + +<p>As for Pepita Ximenez, who, I supposed, would go also mounted on a +donkey, in the same sort of easy saddle as my aunt—for I was ignorant +that she knew how to ride—she surprised me by making her appearance on +a black and white horse full of fire and spirit. She wore a +riding-habit, and managed her horse with admirable grace and skill.</p> + +<p>I was pleased to see Pepita look so charming on horseback, but I soon +began to foresee and to be mortified by the sorry part I would play, +jogging on in the rear beside my corpulent aunt Casilda and the vicar, +all three as quiet and tranquil as if we were seated in a carriage, +while the gay cavalcade in front would caracole, gallop, trot, and make +a thousand other displays of their horsemanship.</p> + +<p>I fancied on the instant that there was something of compassion in +Pepita's glance as she noted the pitiable appearance I no doubt +presented, seated on my mule. My cousin Currito looked at me with a +mocking smile, and immediately began to make fun of me and to tease me.</p> + +<p>Confess that I deserve credit for my resignation and courage. I +submitted to everything with a good grace, and Currito's jests soon +ceased when he saw that I was invulnerable to them. But what did I not +suffer in secret! The others, now trotting, now galloping, rode in +advance of us, both in going and returning. The vicar and I, with Doña +Casilda between us, rode on, tranquil as the mules we were seated upon, +without hastening or retarding our pace.</p> + +<p>I had not even the consolation of chatting with the vicar, in whose +conversation I find so much pleasure, nor of wrapping myself up in my +own thoughts and giving the reign to my fancy, nor of silently admiring +the beauty of the scenery around us. Doña Casilda is gifted with an +abominable loquacity, and we were obliged to listen to her. She told us +all there is to be told of the gossip of the village; she recounted to +us all her accomplishments; she told us how to make sausages, +brain-puddings, pastry, and innumerable other dishes and delicacies. +There is no one, according to herself, who can rival her in matters +pertaining to the kitchen, or to the dressing of hogs, but Antoñona, the +nurse of Pepita, and now her housekeeper and general manager. I am +already acquainted with this Antoñona, for she goes back and forth +between her mistress's house and ours with messages, and is in truth +extremely handy; as loquacious as Aunt Casilda, but a great deal more +discreet.</p> + +<p>The scenery on the road to the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i> is charming, but my +mind was so disturbed during our journey that I could not enjoy it. When +we arrived at the villa and dismounted, I was relieved of a great load, +as if it had been I who carried the mule, and not the mule who carried +me.</p> + +<p>We then proceeded on foot through the estate, which is magnificent, of +varied character, and extensive. There are vines, old and newly planted, +all on the same boundary-line, that produce more than a hundred and +twenty bushels of grapes; olive-trees that yield to the same amount; +and, finally, a grove of the most majestic oaks that are to be found in +all Andalusia. The water of the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i> forms a clear and +deep brook at which all the birds of the neighborhood come to drink, and +on whose borders they are caught by hundreds, by means of reeds smeared +with bird-lime, or of nets, in the center of which are fastened a cord +and a decoy. All this carried my thoughts back to the sports of my +childhood, and to the many times that I too had gone to catch birds in +the same manner.</p> + +<p>Following the course of the brook, and especially in the ravines, are +many poplars and other tall trees, that, together with the bushes and +the shrubs, form a dark and labyrinthine wood. A thousand fragrant wild +flowers grow there spontaneously, and it would, in truth, be difficult +to imagine anything more secluded and sylvan, more solitary, peaceful, +and silent than this spot. The mind is invaded here, during all the +fervor of noonday, when the sun pours down his light in torrents from a +heaven without a cloud, by the same mysterious terror that visits it at +times in the silent hours of the night. One can understand here the +manner of life of the patriarchs of old, and of the primitive shepherds +and heroes; and the visions and apparitions that appeared to them of +nymphs, of gods, and of angels, in the midst of the noonday brightness.</p> + +<p>As we walked through this thicket, there arrived a moment in which, I +know not how, Pepita and I found ourselves alone together. The others +had remained behind.</p> + +<p>I felt a sudden thrill pass through me. For the first time, and in a +place so solitary, I found myself alone with this woman, while my +thoughts were still dwelling on the noontide apparitions, now sinister, +now gracious, but always supernatural, vouchsafed to the men of remote +ages.</p> + +<p>Pepita had left the long skirt of her riding-habit in the house, and now +wore a short dress that did not interfere with the graceful ease of her +movements. She had on her head a little Andalusian hat, which became her +extremely. She carried in her hand her riding-whip, which I fancied to +myself to be a magic wand by means of which this enchantress might cast +her spells over me.</p> + +<p>I am not afraid to transcribe here these eulogies of her beauty. In this +sylvan scene she appeared to me more beautiful than ever. The precaution +recommended in similar cases by ascetics, to think of her beauty +defaced by sickness and old age, to picture her to myself dead, the prey +of corruption and of the worm, presented itself, against my will, to my +imagination; and I say <i>against my will</i>, for I do not concur in the +necessity for such a precaution. No thought of the material, no +suggestion of the evil spirit, troubled my reason, or infected my will +or my senses.</p> + +<p>What did occur to me was an argument, at least to my mind, in disproof +of the efficacy of this precaution. Beauty, the creation of a Sovereign +and Divine Power, may, indeed, be frail and ephemeral, may vanish in an +instant; but the idea of beauty is eternal, and, once perceived by the +mind, it lives there an immortal life. The beauty of this woman, such as +it manifests itself to-day, will disappear in a few short years; the +graceful form, those charming contours, the noble head that raises +itself so proudly above her shoulders, all will be food for loathsome +worms; but though the material must of necessity be transformed, its +idea, the thought through which it was created, abstract beauty, in a +word, who shall destroy this? Does it not exist in the Divine Mind? Once +perceived and known by me, shall it not continue to live in my soul, +triumphing over age and even over death?</p> + +<p>I was meditating thus, striving to tranquillize my spirit and to +dissipate the doubts which you have succeeded in infusing into my mind, +when Pepita and I encountered each other. I was pleased and at the same +time troubled to find myself alone with her—hoping and yet fearing that +the others would join us.</p> + +<p>The silvery voice of Pepita broke the silence, and drew me from my +meditations, saying:</p> + +<p>"How silent you are, Don Luis, and how sad! I am pained to think that it +is, perhaps, through my fault, or partly so at least, that your father +has caused you to spend a disagreeable day in these solitudes, taking +you away from a solitude more congenial, where there would be nothing to +distract your attention from your prayers and pious books."</p> + +<p>I know not what answer I made to this. It must have been something +nonsensical, for my mind was troubled. I did not wish to flatter Pepita +by paying her profane compliments, nor, on the other hand, did I wish to +answer her rudely.</p> + +<p>She continued:</p> + +<p>"You must forgive me if I am wrong, but I fancy that, in addition to the +annoyance of seeing yourself deprived to-day of your favorite +occupation, there is something else that powerfully contributes to your +ill-humor."</p> + +<p>"And what is this something else?" I said; "since you have discovered +it, or fancy you have done so."</p> + +<p>"This something else," responded Pepita, "is a feeling not altogether +becoming in one who is going to be a priest so soon, but very natural in +a young man of twenty-two."</p> + +<p>On hearing this I felt the blood mount to my face, and my face burn. I +imagined a thousand absurdities; I thought myself beset by evil spirits; +I fancied myself tempted by Pepita, who was doubtless about to let me +understand that she knew I loved her. Then my timidity gave place to +haughtiness, and I looked her steadily in the face. There must have been +something laughable in my look, but either Pepita did not observe it, +or, if she did, she concealed the fact with amiable discretion; for she +exclaimed, in the most natural manner:</p> + +<p>"Do not be offended because I find you are not without fault. This that +I have observed seems to me a slight one. You are hurt by the jests of +Currito, and by being compelled to play—speaking profanely—a not very +dignified <i>rôle</i>, mounted, like the reverend vicar with his eighty +years, on a placid mule, and not, as a youth of your age and condition +should be, on a spirited horse. The fault is the reverend dean's, to +whom it did not occur that you should learn to ride. To know how to +manage a horse is not opposed to the career you intend to follow, and I +think, now that you are here, that your father might in a few days give +you the necessary instruction to enable you to do so. If you should go +to Persia or to China, where there are no railroads yet, you will make +but a sorry figure in those countries as a bad horseman. It is possible, +even, that, through this want of foresight of the dean's, the missionary +himself may come to lose prestige in the eyes of those barbarians, which +will make it all the more difficult for him to reap the fruits of his +labors."</p> + +<p>This and other arguments Pepita adduced in order to persuade me to learn +to ride on horseback; and I was so convinced of the necessity of a +missionary's being a good horseman, that I promised her to learn at +once, taking my father for a teacher.</p> + +<p>"On the very next expedition we make," I said, "I shall ride the most +spirited horse my father has, instead of the mule I am riding to-day."</p> + +<p>"I shall be very glad of it," responded Pepita, with a smile of +indescribable sweetness.</p> + +<p>At this moment we were joined by the rest of the party, at which I was +secretly rejoiced, though for no other reason than the fear of not being +able to sustain the conversation, and of saying a great many foolish +things, on account of the little experience I have had in conversing +with women.</p> + +<p>After our walk my father's servants spread before us on the fresh grass, +in the most charming spot beside the brook, a rural and abundant +collation.</p> + +<p>The conversation was very animated, and Pepita sustained her part in it +with much discretion and intelligence. My cousin Currito returned to his +jests about my manner of riding and the meekness of my mule. He called +me a theologian, and said that, seated on mule-back, I looked as if I +were dispensing blessings. This time, however, being now firmly resolved +to learn to ride, I answered his jests with sarcastic indifference. I +was silent, nevertheless, with respect to the promise I had just made +Pepita. The latter, doubtless thinking as I did—although we had come to +no understanding in the matter—that silence for the present was +necessary to insure the complete success of the surprise that I would +create afterward by my knowledge of horsemanship, said nothing of our +conversation. Thus it happened, naturally and in the simplest manner, +that a secret existed between us; and it produced in my mind a singular +effect.</p> + +<p>Nothing else worth telling occurred during the day.</p> + +<p>In the afternoon we returned to the village in the same manner in which +we had left it. Yet, seated on my easy-going mule and at the side of my +aunt Casilda, I did not experience the same fatigue or sadness as +before.</p> + +<p>During the whole journey I listened without weariness to my aunt's +stories, amusing myself at times in conjuring up idle fancies. Nothing +of what passes in my soul shall be concealed from you. I confess, then, +that the figure of Pepita was, as it were, the center, or rather the +nucleus and focus of these idle fancies.—</p> + +<p>The noonday vision in which she had appeared to me in the shadiest and +most sequestered part of the grove, brought to my memory all the +visions, holy and unholy, of wondrous beings, of a condition superior to +ours, that I had read of in sacred authors and in the profane classics. +Pepita appeared to the eyes and on the stage of my fancy in foe, leafy +seclusion of the grove not as she rode before us on horseback but in an +ideal and ethereal fashion, as to Æneas his mother, as Minerva to +Callimachus, as the sylph who, afterward became the mother of Libusa to +the Bohemian Kroco, as Diana to the son of Aristæus, as the angels in +the valley of Mamre to the patriarch, as the hippocentaur to St. Anthony +in the solitude of the wilderness.</p> + +<p>That the vision of Pepita should assume in my mind something of a +supernatural character, seems to me no more to be wondered at than any +of these. For an instant, seeing the consistency of the illusion, I +thought myself tempted by evil spirits; but I reflected that in the few +moments, during which I had been alone with Pepita near the brook of the +Solana, nothing had occurred that was not natural and commonplace; that +it was afterward, as I rode along quietly on my mule, that some demon, +hovering invisible around me, had suggested these extravagant fancies.</p> + +<p>That night I told my father of my desire to learn to ride. I did not +wish to conceal from him that it was Pepita who had suggested this +desire. My father was greatly rejoiced; he embraced me, he kissed me, he +said that now not you only would be my teacher, but that he also would +have the pleasure of teaching me something. He ended by assuring me that +in two or three weeks he would make of me the best horseman of all +Andalusia; able to go to Gibraltar for contraband goods and come back +laden with tobacco and cotton, after eluding the vigilance of the +custom-house officers; fit, in a word, to astonish the riders who show +off their horsemanship in the fairs of Seville and Mairena, and worthy +to press the flanks of Babrecá, Bucephalus, or even of the horses of the +sun themselves, if they should by chance descend to earth, and I could +catch them by the bridle.</p> + +<p>I don't know what you will think of this notion of my learning to ride, +but I take it for granted you will see nothing wrong in it.</p> + +<p>If you could but see how happy my father is, and how he delights in +teaching me! Since the day after the excursion I told you of, I take two +lessons daily. There are days on which the lesson is continuous, for we +spend from morning till night on horseback. During the first week the +lessons took place in the court-yard of the house, which is unpaved, and +which served us as a riding-school.</p> + +<p>We now ride out into the country, but manage so that no one shall see +us. My father does not want me to show myself on horseback in public +until I am able to astonish every one by my fine appearance in the +saddle, as he says. If the vanity natural to a father does not deceive +him, this, it seems, will be very soon, for I have a wonderful aptitude +for riding.</p> + +<p>"It is easy to see that you are my son!" my father exclaims with joy, as +he watches my progress.</p> + +<p>My father is so good that I hope you will pardon him the profane +language and irreverent jests in which he indulges at times. I grieve +for this at the bottom of my soul, but I endure it with patience. These +constant and long-continued lessons have reduced me to a pitiable +condition with blisters. My father enjoins me to write to you that they +are caused by my flagellations.</p> + +<p>As he declares that within a few weeks I shall be an accomplished +horseman, and he does not desire to be superannuated as a master, he +proposes to teach me other accomplishments of a somewhat irregular +character, and sufficiently unsuited to a future priest. At times he +proposes to train me in throwing the bull in order that he may take me +afterward to Seville, where, with lance in hand, on the plains of +Tablada, I shall make the braggarts and the bullies stare. Then he +recalls his own youthful days, when he belonged to the body-guard, and +declares that he will look up his foils, gloves, and masks, and teach me +to fence. And, finally, as my father flatters himself that he can wield +the Sevillian knife better than any one else, he has offered to teach me +even this accomplishment also.</p> + +<p>You can already imagine the answer I make to all this nonsense. My +father replies that, in the good old times, not only the priests but +even the bishops themselves rode about the country on horseback, putting +infidels to the sword. I rejoin that this might happen in the dark ages, +but that in our days the ministers of the Most High should know how to +wield no other weapons than those of persuasion. "And what if persuasion +be not enough?" rejoins my father. "Do you think it would be amiss to +re-enforce argument with a few good blows of a cudgel?" The complete +missionary, according to my father's opinion, should know how, on +occasion, to have recourse to these heroic measures, and, as my father +has read a great many tales and romances, he cites various examples in +support of his opinion. He cites in the first place St. James, who, on +his white horse, without ceasing to be an apostle, puts the Moors to the +sword more frequently than he convinces or preaches to them; he cites a +certain Señor de la Vega who, being sent on an embassy to Boabdil by +Ferdinand and Isabella, became entangled in a theological discussion +with the Moors in the court-yard of the Lions, and, being at the end of +his arguments, drew his sword and fell upon them with fury in order to +complete their conversion; and he finally cites the Biscayan hidalgo, +Don Inigo de Loyola, who, in a controversy he had with a Moor, regarding +the purity of the Holy Virgin, growing weary at last of the impious and +horrible blasphemies with which the aforesaid Moor contradicted him, +fell upon him, sword in hand, and, if he had not taken to his heels, +would have enforced conviction upon his soul in a terrible fashion. In +regard to the incident relating to St. Ignatius, I answer my father that +this was before the saint became a priest; and in regard to the other +examples, I answer that historians are not agreed in the matter.</p> + +<p>In short, I defend myself as best I can against my father's jests, and I +content myself with being a good horseman, without learning other +accomplishments unsuited to the clergy; although my father assures me +that not a few of the Spanish clergy understand and practice them with +frequency in Spain, even in our own day, with a view to contributing to +the triumph of the faith, and to the preservation or the restoration of +the unity of the Church.</p> + +<p>I am grieved to the soul by this levity of my father's, and that he +should speak with irreverence and jestingly about the most serious +things; but a respectful son is not called upon to go further than I do +in repressing his somewhat Voltairean freedom of speech. I say +<i>Voltairean,</i> because I am not able to describe it by any other word. At +heart my father is a good Catholic, and this thought consoles me.</p> + +<p>Tuesday was the Feast of the Cross, and the village presented a very +animated appearance. In each street were six or seven May-crosses, +covered with flowers, but none of them was so beautiful as that placed +by Pepita at the door of her house. It was adorned by a perfect cascade +of flowers.</p> + +<p>In the evening we went to an entertainment at the house of Pepita. The +cross which had stood at the door was now placed in a large saloon on +the ground-floor, in which there is a piano, and Pepita presented us +with a simple and poetic spectacle, one that I had seen when a child, +but had since forgotten.</p> + +<p>From the upper part of the cross hung down seven bands or broad ribbons, +two white, two green, and three red, the symbolic colors of the +theological virtues. Eight children of five or six years old, +representing the seven sacraments, and holding the seven ribbons that +hung from the cross, performed with great skill a species of +contra-dance. The sacrament of baptism was represented by a child +wearing the white robe of a catechumen; ordination, by another child as +a priest; confirmation, by a little bishop; extreme unction, by a +pilgrim with staff and scrip, the latter filled with shells; marriage, +by a bride and bridegroom, and penance, by a Nazarene with cross and +crown of thorns.</p> + +<p>The dance was a series of reverences, steps, evolutions, and +genuflections, rather than a dance, performed to the sound of very +tolerable music, something like a march, which the organist played, not +without skill, on the piano.</p> + +<p>The little dancers, children of the servants or retainers of Pepita, +after playing their parts, went away to bed amid compliments and +caresses.</p> + +<p>The entertainment, in the course of which we were served with +refreshments, continued till twelve; the refreshments were sirup served +in little cups, and afterward chocolate with sponge-cake, and meringues +and water.</p> + +<p>Since the return of spring, Pepita's seclusion and retirement are being +gradually abandoned, at which my father is greatly rejoiced. In future, +Pepita will receive every night, and my father desires that I shall be +one of the guests.</p> + +<p>Pepita has left off mourning, and now appears more lovely and attractive +than ever, in the lighter fabrics appropriate to the season, which is +almost summer. She still dresses, however, with extreme simplicity.</p> + +<p>I cherish the hope that my father will not now detain me here beyond the +end of this month at farthest. In June we shall both join you in the +city, and you shall then see how, far from Pepita, to whom I am +indifferent, and who will remember me neither kindly nor unkindly, I +shall have the pleasure of embracing you, and attaining at last to the +happiness of being ordained.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 7th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Pepita, as I mentioned to you before, receives every evening, from nine +to twelve.</p> + +<p>Four or five married ladies of the village, and as many more unmarried +ones, including Aunt Casilda, are frequent visitors; as well as six or +seven young men, who play at forfeits with the girls. Three or four +engagements are the natural result.</p> + +<p>The sedate portion of the company are the same as usual. These are, as +one may say, the high functionaries of the village—my father, who is +the squire, the apothecary, the doctor, and the reverend vicar.</p> + +<p>I am at a loss to know in which division to place myself. If I join the +young people, my gravity proves a hindrance to their games and +flirtations; if I stay with the elders, I must play the <i>rôle</i> of a +looker-on in things I have no knowledge of. The only games of cards I +know are the <i>burro ciego</i>, the <i>burro con vista</i>, and a little <i>tute</i> +or <i>brisca cruzada</i>.</p> + +<p>The best course for me to pursue would be to absent myself from the +house altogether, but my father will not hear of this. By doing so, +according to him, I should make myself ridiculous.</p> + +<p>My father shows many signs of wonder when he sees my ignorance in +certain things. That I should not know how to play even ombre fills him +with astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Your uncle has brought you up quite out of the world," he says to me, +"cramming you with theology, and leaving you in the dark about +everything else you ought to know. For the very reason that you are to +be a priest, and can neither dance nor make love in society, it is +necessary that you should know how to play ombre. Otherwise how are you +going to spend your time, unhappy boy?"</p> + +<p>To these and other arguments of a like land I have been obliged to +yield, and my father is teaching me at home to play ombre, so that, as +soon as I have learned it, I may play it at Pepita's. He wanted also, as +I already told you, to teach me to fence, and afterward to smoke and +shoot and throw the bar; but I have consented to nothing of all this.</p> + +<p>"What a difference," my father exclaims, "between your youth and mine!"</p> + +<p>And then he adds, laughing:</p> + +<p>"In substance it is the same thing. I, too, had my canonical hours, in +the quarters of the life-guard: a cigar was the censer; a pack of cards, +the hymn-book; and there were never wanting other devotions and +exercises of a more or less spiritual character."</p> + +<p>Although you had warned me of this levity of disposition of my father, +and on account of it I have spent with you twelve years of my life—from +the age of ten to that of twenty-two—yet the sayings of his, altogether +too free at times, perturb and mortify me. But what is to be done? +Although I can not reprove him for making use of them, I do not, on the +other hand, applaud or laugh at them. The strangest part of it is that +my father is altogether another person when he is in the house of +Pepita. Not even by chance does a single phrase, a single jest of the +kind he is so prodigal of at other times escape from him then. At +Pepita's my father is politeness itself. He seems, too, to become every +day more attached to her, and to cherish greater hopes of success.</p> + +<p>My father continues greatly pleased with me as his pupil in +horsemanship. He declares that in four or five days I shall have +mastered the art, and that I shall then mount Lucero, a black horse bred +from an Arab horse and a mare of the race of Guadalcazar, full of fire +and spirit, and trained to all manner of curvetings.</p> + +<p>"Whoever succeeds in getting on the back of Lucero," my father says to +me, "may venture to compete in horsemanship with the centaurs +themselves; and that you shall do very soon."</p> + +<p>Although I spend the whole day out of doors on horseback, in the +club-house, or at Pepita's, I yet steal a few hours from slumber, +sometimes voluntarily, sometimes because I can not sleep, to meditate on +my situation and to examine my conscience. The image of Pepita is always +present to my mind. "Can this be love?" I ask myself.</p> + +<p>The moral obligation I am under, the vow I have made to consecrate +myself to the service of the altar, although not confirmed, is +nevertheless, in my eyes, full and binding. If anything opposed to the +fulfillment of this vow has entered into my soul, it must be combated.</p> + +<p>I note, too, and do not accuse me of arrogance because I mention this to +you, that the empire of my will, which you have taught me to exercise, +is complete over my senses. While Moses on the top of Mount Sinai +conversed with God, the people on the plain below adored, rebellious, +the golden calf. Notwithstanding my youth, my spirit has no fears of +incurring a like rebelliousness. I might converse with God in full +security, if the enemy did not come to attack me in the sanctuary +itself. But the image of Pepita presents itself to my soul. It is a +spirit that makes war against my spirit. It is the idea of her beauty in +all its spiritual purity, that stands before the sanctuary of the souls +where God resides, and prevents me from reaching him.</p> + +<p>I do not shut my eyes to the truth, however; I can see clearly; I can +reason; I do not deceive myself. Above and beyond this spiritual +inclination that draws me to Pepita, is the love of the Infinite and of +the Eternal. Although I represent Pepita to myself as an idea, as a +poem, it is still the idea, the poetry of something finite, limited, +concrete; while the love of God and the conception of God embrace +everything. But, notwithstanding all my efforts, I am unable to give +form in my mind to this supreme conception—this object of the highest +love—in order that it may combat the image, the memory of the frail and +ephemeral reality that continually besets me. Fervently do I implore +Heaven to awaken within me the power of the imagination, that it may +create a likeness, a symbol of this conception, that shall be +all-embracing, and absorb and efface the image of Pepita. This highest +conception, on which I desire to center my love, is vague, shadowy, +indescribable, like the blackness of darkness; while Pepita's image +presents itself to me in clearly defined outlines, bright, palpable, +luminous with the subdued light that may be borne by the eyes of the +spirit, not bright with the intense light that for the eyes of the +spirit is as darkness.</p> + +<p>Every other consideration, every other object is of no avail to destroy +her image. Between the crucifix and me it places itself; between the +most sacred image of the Virgin and me it places itself; on the page of +the spiritual book I am reading it also comes to place itself.</p> + +<p>Yet I do not believe that my soul is invaded by what in the world is +called love. And even if this were the case, I should do battle against +this love, and conquer in the end.</p> + +<p>The daily sight of Pepita, the hearing her praises sounded continually, +even by the reverend vicar, preoccupy me; they turn my spirit toward +profane things, and withdraw it from its proper meditations. But, no—I +do not yet love Pepita; I will go away from here and forget her.</p> + +<p>While I remain here, I shall do battle with valor. I shall wrestle with +the Lord in order to prevail with him by love and submission. My cries +shall reach him like burning arrows, and shall cast down the buckler +wherewith he defends himself from the eyes of my soul. I shall fight +like Israel in the silence of the night; and the Lord shall wound me in +the thigh, and shall humble me in the conflict in order that, being +vanquished, I may become the victor.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 12th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Before I had any intention of doing so, my dear uncle, my father +persuaded me to ride Lucero. Yesterday, at six in the morning, I mounted +the beautiful wild creature, as my father calls Lucero, and we set out +for the country.</p> + +<p>I rode so well, I kept so firm a seat, and looked to such advantage on +the superb animal, that my father could not resist the temptation of +showing off his pupil; and, about eleven in the morning, after resting +at a grange he owns, half a league distant from here, he insisted on our +returning to the village and entering it by the most frequented street, +which we did, our horses' hoofs clattering loudly against the +paving-stones. It is needless to say that we rode by the house of +Pepita, who for some time past is to be seen occasionally in her window, +and who was then seated at the grating of a lower window, behind the +green blind.</p> + +<p>Hardly had Pepita heard the noise we made than, lifting up her eyes and +seeing us, she rose, laid down the sewing she had in her hands, and set +herself to observe us. Lucero, who has the habit, as I learned +afterward, of prancing and curveting when he passes the house of Pepita, +began to show off, and to rear and plunge. I tried to quiet him, but, as +there was something unfamiliar to him in the ways of his present rider, +as well as in the rider himself, whom, perhaps, he regarded with +contempt, he grew more and more unmanageable, and began to neigh and +prance, and even to kick; but I remained firm and serene, showing him +that I was his master, chastising him with the spur, touching his breast +with the whip, and holding him in by the bridle. Lucero, who had almost +stood up on his hind-legs, now humbled himself so far as to bend his +knees gently and make a reverence.</p> + +<p>The crowd of idlers who had gathered around us broke into boisterous +applause. My father called out to them:</p> + +<p>"A good lesson that for our braggarts and blusterers!"</p> + +<p>And, observing afterward that Currito—who has no other occupation than +to amuse himself—was among the crowd, he addressed him in these words:</p> + +<p>"Look at that, you rascal! Look at the theologian now, and see if you +don't stare with wonder, instead of laughing at him."</p> + +<p>And, in fact, there Currito stood stock-still with amazement, and unable +to utter a word.</p> + +<p>My triumph was great and assured, although unsuited to my character. The +unfitness of the triumph covered me with confusion. Shame brought the +blood to my cheeks. I must have turned as red as scarlet, or redder, +when I saw that Pepita was applauding and saluting me graciously, while +she smiled and clapped her beautiful hands.</p> + +<p>In short, I have been adjudged a man of nerve, and a horseman of the +first rank.</p> + +<p>My father could not be prouder or more happy than he is; he declares +that he is completing my education, that in me you have sent him a book +full of wisdom, but unconnected and unbound, which he is now making a +fair copy, and putting it between covers.</p> + +<p>On two occasions I played <i>hombre</i> with Pepita. Learning <i>hombre</i>, if +that be a part of the binding and the correcting, is already done with.</p> + +<p>The night after my equestrian feat Pepita received me with enthusiasm, +and—what she had never ventured nor perhaps desired to do before—she +gave me her hand.</p> + +<p>Do not suppose that I did not call to mind what so many moralists and +ascetics recommend in like cases, but in my inmost thoughts I believed +they exaggerated the danger. Those words of the Holy Spirit, that it is +as dangerous to touch a woman as a scorpion, seem to me to have been +said in another sense. In pious books, no doubt, many phrases and +sentences of the Scriptures are, with the best intentions, interpreted +harshly. How are we to understand otherwise the saying that the beauty +of woman, this perfect work of God, is always the cause of perdition? Or +how are we to understand, in a universal and invariable sense, that +woman is more bitter than death? How are we to understand that he who +touches a woman, on whatever occasion or with whatsoever thought, shall +not be without stain?</p> + +<p>In fine, I made answer rapidly within my mind to these and other similar +counsels, and took the hand that Pepita kindly extended to me and +pressed it in mine. Its softness made me comprehend all the better the +delicacy and beauty of the hand that until now I had known only by +sight.</p> + +<p>According to the usages of the world, the hand, once given, should be +given always thereafter on entering a room and on taking leave. I hope +that in this ceremony, in this evidence of friendship, in this +manifestation of kindness, given and accepted in purity of heart, and +without any mixture of levity, you will see nothing either evil or +dangerous.</p> + +<p>As my father is often obliged of an evening to see the overseer and +others of the country-people, and is seldom free until half-past ten or +eleven, I take his place beside Pepita at the ombre-table. The reverend +vicar and the notary are generally the other partners. We each stake a +penny a point, so that not more than a dollar or two changes hands in +the game.</p> + +<p>As the game possesses thus but little interest, we interrupt it +constantly with pleasant conversation, and even with discussions on +matters foreign to the game itself, in all which Pepita displays such +clearness of understanding, such liveliness of imagination, and a grace +of expression so extraordinary, as to astonish me.</p> + +<p>I find no sufficient motive to change my opinion with respect to what I +have already said in answer to your suspicions that Pepita perhaps feels +a certain liking for me. She manifests toward me the affection she would +naturally entertain for the son of her suitor, Don Pedro de Vargas, and +the timidity and shyness that would be inspired by a man in my position, +who, though not yet a priest, is soon to become one.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, as I always speak to you in my letters as if I were +kneeling before you in the confessional, I desire, as is my duty, to +communicate to you a passing impression I have received on two or three +occasions. This impression may be but a hallucination or a delusion, but +I have none the less received it.</p> + +<p>I have already told you in my former letters that the eyes of Pepita, +green as those of Circe, are calm and tranquil in their gaze; she does +not seem to be conscious of their power, or to know that they serve for +any other purpose than to see with. When she looks at one, the soft +light of her glance is so clear, so frank, and so untroubled that, +instead of giving rise to any evil thoughts, it seems to give birth to +pure thoughts, and leaves innocent and chaste souls in untroubled +repose, while it destroys every incitement to evil in souls that are not +chaste. There is no trace of ardent passion, no fire to be discovered in +Pepita's eyes. Their light is like the mild ray of the moon.</p> + +<p>Well, then, notwithstanding all this, I fancied I detected, on two or +three occasions, a sudden brightness, a gleam as of lightning, a swift, +devouring flame in her eyes as they rested on me. Can this be the result +of a ridiculous vanity, inspired by the arch-fiend himself?</p> + +<p>I think so. I believe it is, and I wish to believe it.</p> + +<p>The swiftness, the fugitive nature of the impression make me conjecture +that it had no external reality, that it was only an illusion.</p> + +<p>The serenity of heaven, the coldness of indifference, tempered, indeed, +with sweetness and charity—this is what I always discern in Pepita's +eyes.</p> + +<p>Nevertheless, this illusion, this vision of a strange and ardent glance, +torments me.</p> + +<p>My father affirms that in affairs of the heart it is the woman, not the +man, who takes the first step; and that she takes it without thereby +incurring any responsibility, and with the power to disavow or retract +it whenever she desires to do so. According to my father, it is the +woman who first declares her passion through the medium of furtive +glances that, later, she disavows to her own conscience if necessary, +and of which he to whom they are directed divines, rather than reads, +the significance. In this manner, by a species of electric shock, by +means of a subtle and inexplicable intuition, he who is loved perceives +that he is loved; and when at last he makes up his mind to declare +himself, he can do so confidently, and in the full security that his +passion is returned.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it is these theories of my father, to which I have listened +because I could not help it, that have heated my fancy and made me +imagine what has no existence in reality.</p> + +<p>Yet, after all, I say to myself at times, Is the thought so absurd, so +incredible, that this illusion should have an existence in reality? And +if it had, if I were pleasing in Pepita's eyes otherwise than as a +friend, if the woman to whom my father is paying his addresses should +fall in love with me, would not my position then be terrible?</p> + +<p>But let us cast away these fears, the creation, no doubt, of vanity. Let +us not make of Pepita a Phædra, or of me a Hippolytus.</p> + +<p>What in reality begins to surprise me is my father's carelessness and +complete consciousness of security. Pardon my pride, ask Heaven to +pardon it; for at times this consciousness of security piques and +offends me. What! I say to myself, is there something so absurd in the +thought that it should not even occur to my father that, notwithstanding +my supposed sanctity, or perhaps because of my supposed sanctity, I +should, without wishing it, inspire Pepita with love?</p> + +<p>There is an ingenious method of reasoning by which I explain to myself, +without wounding my vanity, my father's carelessness in this important +particular. My father, although he has no reason for doing so, begins to +regard himself already in the light of Pepita's husband, and to share in +that fatal blindness with which Asmodeus, or some other yet more +malicious demon, afflicts husbands. Profane and ecclesiastical history +is fall of instances of this blindness, which God permits, no doubt, for +providential purposes. The most remarkable example of it, perhaps, is +that of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who had for wife a woman so vile as +Faustina, and yet so wise a man and so great a philosopher remained in +ignorance to the end of his days of what was known to every one else in +the Roman Empire; so that in the meditations or memoirs of himself that +he composed he gives infinite thanks to the immortal gods for having +bestowed upon him so faithful and so good a wife; thus provoking the +smiles of his contemporaries and of future generations.</p> + +<p>Every day since then we see examples of great men and men of exalted +rank who make those who enjoy the favor of their wives their private +secretaries, and bestow honors on them. Thus do I explain to myself my +father's indifference and his failure to suspect that, even against my +own will, it would be possible for him to find a rival in me.</p> + +<p>Would it be a want of respect on my part, should I fall into the fault +of presumption or insolence, if I were to warn my father of the danger +which he himself does not see? But he gives me no opportunity to say +anything to him. Besides, what could I say to him? That once or twice I +fancy Pepita has looked at me in a way different from that in which she +usually does? May not this be an illusion of mine? No; I have not the +least proof that Pepita desires to play the coquette with me.</p> + +<p>What, then, could I tell my father? Shall I say to him that it is I who +am in love with Pepita; that I covet the treasure he already regards as +his own? This is not the truth; and, above all, how could I tell this to +my father, even if, to my misfortune and through my fault, it were the +truth?</p> + +<p>The best course I can adopt is to say nothing; to combat the temptation +in silence, if it should indeed assail me, and to endeavor, as soon as +possible, to leave this place and return to you.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 19th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>I return thanks to Heaven and to you for the letters and the counsels +you have lately sent me. To-day I need them more than ever.</p> + +<p>The mystical and learned St. Theresa is right in dwelling upon the +suffering of timid souls that allow themselves to be disturbed by +temptation; but a thousand times worse than that suffering is the +awakening from error of those who, like me, have permitted themselves to +indulge in arrogance and self-confidence.</p> + +<p>Our bodies are the temples wherein dwells the Holy Spirit; but when +fire is set to the walls of the temple, though they do not burn, yet +they are blackened.</p> + +<p>The first evil thought is the head of the serpent; if we do not crush it +with firm and courageous foot, then will the venomous reptile climb up +and hide himself in our bosom.</p> + +<p>The nectar of earthly joys, however innocent they be, is sweet indeed to +the taste; but afterward it is converted into gall, and into the venom +of the serpent.</p> + +<p>It is true—I can no longer deny it to you—I ought not to have allowed +my eyes to rest with so much complacency on this dangerous woman.</p> + +<p>I do not deem myself lost; but I feel my soul troubled.</p> + +<p>Even as the thirsty hart desires and seeks the water-brooks, so does my +soul still seek God. To God does it turn that he may give it rest; it +longs to drink at the torrent of his delights the gushing forth of which +rejoices paradise, and whose clear waves make whiter than snow but deep +calleth unto deep, and my feet have stuck fast in the mire that is +hidden in their abysses.</p> + +<p>Yet have I still breath and voice to cry out with the psalmist: "Arise, +my joy! if thou dost take my part, who shall prevail against me?"</p> + +<p>I say unto my sinful soul, full of the chimerical imaginations and +sinful desires engendered by unlawful thoughts: "O miserable daughter +of Babylon! happy shall he be who shall give thee thy reward! Happy +shall he be that dasheth thy little ones against the rock!"</p> + +<p>Works of penance, fasting, prayer, and penitence, are the weapons +wherewith I shall arm myself to combat, and, with the Divine help, to +vanquish.</p> + +<p>It was not a dream; it was not madness; it was the truth: she lets her +eyes rest upon me at times with the ardent glance of which I have told +you. There is in her glance an unexplainable magnetic attraction. It +draws me on, it seduces me, and I can not withdraw my gaze from her. On +such occasions my eyes must burn, like hers, with a fatal flame, as did +those of Amnon when he turned them upon Tamar; as did those of the +prince of Shechem when they were fixed upon Dinah.</p> + +<p>When our glances encounter each other thus, I forget even God. Her image +rises up within my soul, the conqueror of everything. Her beauty +outshines all other beauty; the joys of heaven seem to me less desirable +than her affection. An eternity of suffering would be little in exchange +for one moment of the infinite bliss with which one of those glances +that pass like lightning inundates my soul.</p> + +<p>When I return home, when I am alone in my room, in the silence of the +night, I realize all the horror of my position, and I form good +resolutions, only to break them again.</p> + +<p>I resolve to feign sickness, to make use of any pretext so as not to go +to Pepita's on the following night, and yet I go.</p> + +<p>My father, confiding to the last degree, says to me when the hour +arrives, without any suspicion of what is passing in my soul:</p> + +<p>"Go you to Pepita's; I will go later, when I have finished with the +overseer."</p> + +<p>No excuse occurs to me; I can find no pretext for not going, and, +instead of answering, "I can not go," I take my hat and depart.</p> + +<p>On entering the room I shake hands with Pepita, and, as our hands touch, +she casts a spell over me; my whole being is changed; a devouring fire +penetrates my heart, and I think only of her. Moved by an irresistible +impulse, I gaze at her with insane ardor, and at every instant I think I +discover in her new perfections. Now it is the dimples in her cheeks +when she smiles, now the roseate whiteness of her skin, now the straight +outlines of her nose, now the smallness of her ear, now the softness of +contour and the admirable modeling of her throat.</p> + +<p>I enter her house against my will, as though summoned there by a +conjurer, and no sooner am I there than I fall under the spell of her +enchantment. I see clearly that I am in the power of an enchantress, +whose fascination is irresistible.</p> + +<p>Not only is she pleasing to my sight, but her words sound in my ears +like the music of the spheres, revealing to my soul the harmony of the +universe; and I even fancy that a subtle fragrance emanates from her, +sweeter than the perfume of the mint that grows by the brook-side, or +the wood-like odor of the thyme that is found among the hills.</p> + +<p>I know not how, in this state of exaltation, I am able to play <i>hombre,</i> +or to converse rationally, or even to speak, so completely am I absorbed +in her.</p> + +<p>When our glances encounter each other, our souls rush forth in them, and +seem to join and interpenetrate each other. In that meeting a thousand +feelings are communicated that in no other way could be made known; +poems are recited that could be uttered in no human tongue, and songs +are sung that no human voice could sing, no according zither accompany.</p> + +<p>Since the day I met Pepita in the <i>Pozo de la Solana</i>, I have not seen +her alone. Although no word has passed between us, yet we have told each +other everything.</p> + +<p>When I withdraw myself from this fascination, when I am again alone at +night in my chamber, I set myself to examine coolly the situation in +which I am placed; I see the abyss that is about to ingulf me, yawning +before me, and I feel my feet slip from under me, and that I am sinking +into it.</p> + +<p>You counsel me to reflect upon death—not on the death of this woman, +but on my own. You counsel me to reflect on the instability, on the +insecurity of our existence, and on what there is beyond it. But these +considerations, these reflections neither terrify nor daunt me. Why +should I, who desire to die, fear death? Love and death are brothers. A +sentiment of self-abnegation springs to life within me, and tells me +that my whole being should be consecrated to and annihilated in the +beloved object. I long to merge myself in one of her glances; to diffuse +and exhale my whole being in the ray of light shot forth from her eyes; +to die while gazing on her, even though I should be eternally lost.</p> + +<p>What is still to some extent efficacious with me against this love is +not fear, but love itself. Superior to this deep-rooted love with which +I now have the evidence that Pepita inspires me, Divine love exalts +itself in my spirit in mighty uprising. Then everything is changed +within me, and I feel that I may yet obtain the victory. The object of +my higher love presents itself to my mental vision, as the sun that +kindles and illuminates all things, and fills all space with light; and +the object of my inferior love appears but as an atom of dust floating +in the sunbeam. All its beauty, all its splendor, all its attraction are +nothing but the reflection of this uncreated sun, the brilliant, +transitory, fleeting spark that is cast off from that infinite and +inexhaustible fire.</p> + +<p>My soul, burning with love, would fain take to herself wings and rise to +that flame, in order that all that is impure within her might be +consumed therein.</p> + +<p>My life, for some days past, is a constant struggle. I know not how it +is that the malady from which I suffer does not betray itself in my +countenance. I scarcely eat; I scarcely sleep. And if by chance sleep +closes my eyelids, I awake in terror as from a dream in which rebel +angels are arrayed against good angels, and in which I am one of the +combatants. In this conflict of light against darkness, I do battle for +the right, but I sometimes imagine that I have gone over to the enemy, +that I am a vile deserter; and I hear a voice from Patmos saying, "And +men preferred darkness rather than light"; and then I am filled with +terror and I look upon myself as lost. No resource is left me but +flight. If, before the end of the month, my father does not go with me, +or consent to my going alone, I shall steal away like a thief, without a +word to any one.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 23d.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>I am a vile worm, not a man; I am the opprobrium and disgrace of +humanity. I am a hypocrite.</p> + +<p>I have been encompassed by the pangs of death, and the waters of +iniquity have passed over me.</p> + +<p>I am ashamed to write to you, and yet I write. I desire to confess +everything to you.</p> + +<p>I can not turn away from evil. Far from abstaining from going to +Pepita's, I go there each night earlier than the last. It would seem as +if devils took me by the feet and carried me there against my will!</p> + +<p>Happily, I never find Pepita alone; I do not desire to find her alone. I +almost always find there before me the excellent vicar, who attributes +our friendship to similarity of feeling in religious matters, and bases +it on piety, like the pure and innocent friendship he himself entertains +for her.</p> + +<p>The progress of my malady is rapid. Like the stone that is loosened from +the mountain-top and gathers force as it falls, so is it with my spirit +now.</p> + +<p>When Pepita and I shake hands, it is not now as before. Each one of us, +by an effort of the will, transmits to the other, through the handclasp, +every throb of the heart. It is as if, by some diabolical art, we had +effected a transfusion and a blending together of the most subtle +elements our blood. She must feel my life circulate through her veins, +as I feel hers in mine.</p> + +<p>When I am near her, I love her; when I am away from her, I hate her. +When I am in her presence she inspires me with love; she draws me to +her; she subjugates me with gentleness; she lays upon me a very easy +yoke.</p> + +<p>But the recollection of her undoes me. When I dream of her, I dream that +she is severing my head from my body, as Judith slew the captain of the +Assyrians; or that she is driving a nail into my temple, as Jael did to +Sisera. But when I am near her, she appears to me the Spouse of the Song +of Songs, and a voice within me calls to her, and I bless her, and I +regard her as a sealed fountain, as an inclosed garden, as the flower of +the valley, as the lily of the fields, my dove and my sister.</p> + +<p>I desire to free myself from her, and I can not. I abhor, yet I almost +worship her. Her spirit enters into and takes possession of me as soon +as I behold her; it subjugates me, it abases me.</p> + +<p>I leave her house each night, saying, "This is the last night I shall +return here"; and I return there on the following night!</p> + +<p>When she speaks, and I am near, my soul hangs, as it were, upon her +words. When she smiles, I imagine that a ray of spiritual light enters +into my heart and rejoices it.</p> + +<p>It has happened, when playing <i>hombre</i>, that our knees have touched by +chance, and then I have felt a thrill run through me impossible to +describe.</p> + +<p>Get me away from this place. Write to my father and ask him to let me +return to you. If it be necessary, tell him everything. Help me! Be you +my refuge!</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>May 30th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>God has given me strength to resist, and I have resisted.</p> + +<p>It is now many days since I have been in the house of Pepita, many days +since I have seen her.</p> + +<p>It is scarcely necessary that I should feign sickness, for I am in +reality sick. I have lost my color, and dark circles begin to show +themselves under my eyes; and my father asks me, full of affectionate +anxiety, what the cause of my suffering is, and manifests the deepest +concern in my regard.</p> + +<p>The kingdom of heaven is said to yield to violence, and I am resolved to +conquer it. With violence I call at its gates that they may open to me.</p> + +<p>With wormwood am I fed by the Lord, in order to prove me; and in vain do +I supplicate him to let this cup of bitterness pass away from me. But, +as I have passed and still pass many nights in vigil, delivered up to +prayer, a loving inspiration from the Supreme Consoler has come to +sweeten the bitterness of my cup.</p> + +<p>I have beheld with the eyes of the soul the new country; and the new +song of the heavenly Jerusalem has resounded within the depths of my +heart.</p> + +<p>If in the end I should conquer, glorious will be the victory; but I +shall owe it to the Queen of Angels, under whose protection I place +myself. She is my refuge and my defense; the tower and the house of +David, on whose walls hang innumerable shields and the armor of many +valiant champions; the cedar of Lebanon, that puts to flight the +serpent.</p> + +<p>The woman who inspires me with an earthly love, on the contrary, I +endeavor to despise and abase in my thoughts, remembering the words of +the sage, and applying them to her.</p> + +<p>"Thou art the snare of the hunter," I say to her; "thy heart is a net of +deceit, and thy hands are bands that imprison; he who fears God will +flee from thee, and the sinner shall be taken captive by thee."</p> + +<p>In my meditations on love, I find a thousand reasons for loving God, and +against loving her.</p> + +<p>I feel, in the depths of my heart, an indescribable enthusiasm that +convinces me that for the love of God I would sacrifice all +things—fame, honor, power, dominion. I feel myself capable of imitating +Christ, and if the tempter should carry me off to the mountain-top, and +should there offer me all the kingdoms of the earth if I consented to +bow the knee before him, yet would I not bend it. But were he to offer +me this woman if I should do so, I feel that I should waver, that I +should not reject his offer. Is this woman, then, worth more in my eyes +than all the kingdoms of the earth? More than fame, honor, power, and +dominion?</p> + +<p>Is the virtue of love, I ask myself at times, always the same, even when +applied to diverse objects; or are there two species and qualities of +love? To love God seems to me to be the giving up of self and of selfish +interest. Loving him, I desire to love, and I can love all things +through him, and I am not troubled or jealous because of his love toward +all things. I am not jealous of the saints, or of the martyrs, or of the +blessed, or even of the seraphim. The greater I picture to myself to be +the love of God for his creatures, and the graces and gifts he bestows +upon them, the less am I troubled by jealousy; the more I love him, the +nearer to me do I feel him to be, and the more loving and gracious does +he seem toward me. My brotherhood, my more than brotherhood with all +creatures, stands forth then in a most pleasing light. It seems to me +that I am one with all things, and that all things are bound together in +the bonds of love, through God and in God.</p> + +<p>Very different is it when my thoughts dwell upon Pepita, and on the love +with which she inspires me. This love is a love full of hatred, that +separates me from everything but myself. I desire her for myself, +altogether for myself, and myself altogether for her. Even devotion to +her, even sacrifices made for her sake, partake of the nature of +selfishness. To die for her would be to die of despair at not being able +to possess her in any other manner—from the fear of not enjoying her +love completely, except by dying and commingling with her in an eternal +embrace.</p> + +<p>By these reflections I endeavor to render the love of Pepita hateful to +me. I invest my love in my imagination with something diabolical and +fatal; but, as if I possessed a double soul, a double understanding, a +double will, and a double imagination, in contradiction to this thought, +other feelings rise up within me in its train, and I then deny what I +have just affirmed, and insanely endeavor to reconcile the two loves. +Would it not be possible, I ask myself, to fly from Pepita, and yet +continue to love her, without ceasing therefore to consecrate myself +with fervor to the love of God? For, as the love of God does not +exclude love of country, love of humanity, love of learning, love of +beauty in nature and in art, neither should it exclude another love, if +it be spiritual and immaculate. I will make of her, I say to myself, a +symbol, an allegory, an image of all that is good, of all that is +beautiful. She shall be to me, as Beatrice was to Dante, the image and +the symbol of country, of knowledge, and of beauty.</p> + +<p>This intention suggests to me a horrible fancy, a monstrous thought. In +order to make of Pepita this symbol, this vaporous and ethereal image, +this sign and epitome of all that I can love under God, in God, and +subordinate to God, I picture her to myself dead, as Beatrice was dead +when Dante made her the subject of his song.</p> + +<p>If I picture her to myself among the living, then I am unable to convert +her into a pure idea, and if I convert her into a pure idea, I kill her +in my thoughts.</p> + +<p>Then I weep; I am filled with horror at my crime, and I draw near to her +in spirit, and with the warmth of my heart I bring her back to life +again; and I behold her, not errant, diaphanous, floating in shadowy +outline among roseate clouds and celestial flowers, as the stern +Ghibelline beheld his beloved in the upper sphere of purgatory, but +coherent, solid, clearly defined in the pure and serene air like the +masterpieces of Greek art, like Galatea already animated by the love of +Pygmalion, and descending—full of fire, exhaling love, rich in youth +and beauty—from her pedestal of marble.</p> + +<p>Then I exclaim in the depths of my perturbed heart: "My virtue faints! +My God, do not thou forsake me! Hasten to my help; show thy countenance, +and I shall be saved."</p> + +<p>Thus do I recover strength to resist temptation. Thus again does the +hope spring to life within me, that I shall regain my former +tranquillity when I shall have left this place.</p> + +<p>The devil longs with ardor to swallow up the pure waters of Jordan, by +which are symbolized the persons who are consecrated to God. Hell +conspires against them, and lets loose all her monsters, upon them. St. +Bonaventure says, "We should not wonder that these persons have sinned, +but rather that they have not sinned."</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding, I shall be able to resist and not sin. The Lord will +protect me.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>June 6th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Pepita's nurse—now her housekeeper—is, as my father says, a good bag +of wrinkles; she is talkative, gay, and skillful, as few are. She +married the son of Master Cencias, and has inherited from the father +what the son did not inherit—a wonderful facility for the mechanical +arts, with this difference; that while Master Cencias could set the +screw of a wine-press, or repair the wheels of a wagon, or make a plow, +this daughter-in-law of his knows how to make sweetmeats, conserves of +honey, and other dainties. The father-in-law practiced the useful arts, +the daughter-in-law those that have for their object pleasure, though +only innocent, or at least lawful pleasure.</p> + +<p>Antoñona—for such is her name—is permitted, or assumes, the greatest +familiarity with all the gentry here. She goes in and out of every house +as if it were her own. She says <i>thou</i> to all the young people of +Pepita's age, or four or five years older; she calls them <i>niño</i> and +<i>niña,</i> and treats them as if she had nursed them at her breast.</p> + +<p>She behaves toward me with the same familiarity; she comes to visit me, +enters my room unannounced, and has asked me several times already why I +no longer go to see her mistress, and has told me that I am wrong in not +going.</p> + +<p>My father, who has no suspicion of the truth, accuses me of +eccentricity; he calls me an owl, and he, too, is determined that I +shall resume my visits to Pepita. Last night I could no longer resist +his repeated importunities, and I went to her house very early, as my +father was about to settle his accounts with the overseer.</p> + +<p>Would God I had not gone!</p> + +<p>Pepita was alone. When our glances met, when we saluted each other, we +both turned red. We shook hands with timidity and in silence.</p> + +<p>I did not press her hand, nor did she press mine, but for a moment we +held them clasped together.</p> + +<p>In Pepita's glance, as she looked at me, there was nothing of love; +there was only friendship, sympathy, and a profound sadness.</p> + +<p>She had divined the whole of my inward struggle; she was persuaded that +divine love had triumphed in my soul; that my resolution not to love her +was firm and invincible.</p> + +<p>She did not venture to complain of me; she had no reason to complain of +me; she knew that right was on my side. A sigh, scarcely perceptible, +that escaped from her dewy, parted lips, revealed to me the depth of her +sorrow.</p> + +<p>Her hand still lay in mine; we were both silent. How say to her that she +was not destined for me, nor I for her; that we must part forever?</p> + +<p>But, though my lips refused to tell her this in words, I told it to her +with my eyes; my severe glance confirmed her fears; it convinced her of +the irrevocableness of my decision.</p> + +<p>All at once her gaze was troubled; her lovely countenance, pale with a +translucent pallor, was contracted with a touching expression of +melancholy. She looked like Our Lady of Sorrows. Two tears rose slowly +to her eyes, and began to steal down her cheeks.</p> + +<p>I know not what passed within me—and how describe it, even if I knew?</p> + +<p>I bent toward her to kiss away her tears, and our lips met in a kiss.</p> + +<p>A rapture unspeakable, a faintness full of peril, invaded our whole +being. She would have fallen, but that I supported her in my arms.</p> + +<p>Heaven willed that we should at this moment hear the step and the cough +of the reverend vicar, who was approaching, and we instantly drew apart.</p> + +<p>Recovering myself, and summoning all the strength of my will, I brought +to an end this terrible scene, that had been enacted in silence, with +these words, which I pronounced in low and intense accents:</p> + +<p>"The first and the last!"</p> + +<p>I made allusion to our profane kiss, but, as if my words had been an +invocation, there rose before me the vision of the Apocalypse in all its +terrible majesty. I beheld Him who is indeed the First and the Last, +and, with the two-edged sword that proceeded from his mouth, he pierced +my soul, full of evil, of wickedness, and of sin.</p> + +<p>All that evening I passed in a species of frenzy, an inward delirium, +that I know not how I was able to conceal.</p> + +<p>I withdrew from Pepita's house very early.</p> + +<p>The anguish of my soul was yet more poignant in solitude.</p> + +<p>When I recalled that kiss, and those words of farewell, I compared +myself with the traitor Judas, who made use of a kiss to betray; and +with the sanguinary and treacherous assassin Joab, who plunged the sharp +steel into the bowels of Amasa while in the act of kissing him.</p> + +<p>I had committed a double treason; I had been guilty of a double perfidy. +I had sinned against God and against her.</p> + +<p>I am an execrable wretch.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>June 11th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>Everything may still be remedied.</p> + +<p>Pepita will, in time, forget her love and the weakness of which we were +guilty.</p> + +<p>Since that night I have not returned to her house. Antoñona has not made +her appearance in ours.</p> + +<p>By dint of entreaties I have obtained a formal promise from my father +that we shall leave here on the 25th, the day after St. John's day, +which is here celebrated with splendid feasts, and on the eve of which +there is a famous vigil.</p> + +<p>Absent from Pepita, I begin to recover my serenity, and to think that +this first appearance of love was a trial of my virtue.</p> + +<p>All these nights I have prayed, I have watched, I have performed many +works of penance.</p> + +<p>The persistence of my prayers, the deep contrition of my soul, have +found favor with the Lord, who has manifested to me his great mercy.</p> + +<p>The Lord, in the words of the prophet, has sent fire to the stronghold +of my spirit, he has illuminated my understanding, he has kindled my +resolution, and he has given me instruction. The working of the Divine +love which animates the Supreme Will has had power, at times, without my +deserving it, to lead me to that condition of prayerful contemplation in +which all the faculties of the soul are in repose. I have cast out from +the lower faculties of my soul every species of image—even her image; +and I am persuaded, if vanity does not deceive me, that, mind and heart +in reconciliation, I have known and enjoyed the Supreme Good that dwells +within the depths of the soul.</p> + +<p>Compared with this good, all else is worthless; compared with this +beauty, all else is deformity. Who would not forget and scorn every +other love for the love of God?</p> + +<p>Yes, the profane image of this woman shall depart, finally and forever, +from my soul. I shall make of my prayers and of my penance a sharp +scourge, and with it I will expel her therefrom, as Christ expelled the +money-lenders from the temple.</p> + +<p class="date"> +<i>June 18th.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>This is the last letter I shall write to you. On the 25th I shall leave +this place without fail.</p> + +<p>I shall soon have the happiness of embracing you. Near you I shall be +stronger; you will infuse courage into me, and lend me the energy in +which I am wanting.</p> + +<p>A tempest of conflicting emotions is raging now in my soul. The disorder +of my ideas may be known by the disorder of what I write.</p> + +<p>Twice I returned to the house of Pepita. I was cold and stern. I was as +I ought to have been, but how much did it not cost me!</p> + +<p>My father told me yesterday that Pepita was indisposed, and would not +receive.</p> + +<p>The thought at once assailed me that the cause of her indisposition +might be her ill-requited love.</p> + +<p>Why did I return her glances of fire? Why did I basely deceive her? Why +did I make her believe I loved her? Why did my vile lips seek hers with +ardor, and communicate the ardor of an unholy love to hers?</p> + +<p>But no; my sin shall not be followed, as its unavoidable consequence, by +another sin!</p> + +<p>What has been, has been, and can not be undone; but a repetition of it +may be avoided, shall be avoided in future.</p> + +<p>On the 25th, I repeat, I shall depart from here without fail.</p> + +<p>The impudent Antoñona has just come to see me. I hid this letter from +her, as if it were a crime to write to you.</p> + +<p>Antoñona remained here only for a moment.</p> + +<p>I arose, and remained standing while I spoke to her, that the visit +might be a short one.</p> + +<p>During this short visit she gave utterance to a thousand absurdities +that afflict me profoundly. Finally, as she was going away, she +exclaimed, in her half-gypsy jargon:</p> + +<p>"Get away, you deceiver! you villain! my curse upon you! You have made +the child sick, and now you are killing her with your subterfuges. May +witches fly away with you, body and bones!"</p> + +<p>Having said this, the fiendish woman gave me, in a coarse plebeian +fashion, six or seven ferocious pinches below the shoulders, as if she +would like to tear the skin from my back in strips; and then went away, +looking daggers at me.</p> + +<p>I do not complain. I deserve this brutal jest, granting it to be a jest. +I deserve that fiends should tear my flesh with red-hot pincers.</p> + +<p>Grant, my God, that Pepita may forget me; let her, if it be necessary, +love another, and be happy with him!</p> + +<p>Can I do more than ask thee this, O my God?</p> + +<p>My father knows nothing, suspects nothing; it is better thus.</p> + +<p>Farewell for a few days, till we see and embrace each other again.</p> + +<p>How changed will you find me! How full of bitterness my heart! How lost +my innocence! How bruised and wounded my soul!</p> + + + +<h3><a name="II" id="II"></a>II.<br /> +PARALIPOMENA.</h3> + + +<p>Here end the letters of Don Luis de Vargas. We should therefore be left +in ignorance of the subsequent fortunes of these lovers, and this simple +and ardent love-story would have remained without an ending, if one +familiar with all the circumstances had not left us the following +narrative:</p> + +<p>No one in the village found anything strange in the fact of Pepita's +being indisposed, or thought, still less, of attributing her +indisposition to a cause of which only we, Pepita herself, Don Luis, the +reverend dean, and the discreet Antoñona, are thus far cognizant.</p> + +<p>They might rather have wondered at the life, of gayety that Pepita had +been leading for some time past, at the daily gatherings at her house, +and the excursions into the country in which she had joined. That Pepita +should return to her habitual seclusion was quite natural.</p> + +<p>Her secret and deeply rooted love for Don Luis was hidden from the +searching glances of Doña Casilda, of Currito, and of all the other +personages of the village of whom mention is made in the letters of Don +Luis. Still less could the public know of it. It never entered into the +head, of any one—no one imagined for a moment that the theologian, the +<i>saint,</i> as they called Don Luis, could become the rival of his father, +or could have succeeded where the redoubtable and powerful Don Pedro de +Vargas had failed—in winning the heart of the lovely, graceful, coy, +and reserved young widow.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the familiarity of the ladies of the village with their +servants, Pepita had allowed none of hers to suspect anything. Only the +lynx-eyed Antoñona, whom nothing could escape, and more especially +nothing that concerned her young mistress, had penetrated the mystery.</p> + +<p>Antoñona did not conceal her discovery from Pepita, nor could Pepita +deny the truth to the woman who had nursed her, who idolized her, and +who, if she delighted in finding out and gossiping about all that took +place in the village, being, as she was, a model scandal-monger, was +yet, in all that related to her mistress, reticent and loyal as but few +are.</p> + +<p>In this manner Antoñona made herself the confidante of Pepita; and +Pepita found great consolation in unburdening her heart to one who, +though she might be cross and vulgar in the frankness with which she +expressed her sentiments, was not so either in the sentiments or the +ideas that she expressed.</p> + +<p>In this may be found the explanation of Antoñona's visits to Don Luis, +as well as of her words, and even of the ferocious and disrespectful +pinches, given in so ill-chosen a spot, with which she bruised his flesh +and wounded his dignity, on the occasion of her last visit to him.</p> + +<p>Not only had Pepita not desired Antoñona to carry messages to Don Luis, +but she did not even know that she had gone to see him. Antoñona had +taken the initiative, and had interfered in the matter simply because +she herself had wanted to do so.</p> + +<p>As we have already said, she had, with wonderful perspicacity, made +herself acquainted with the state of affairs between her mistress and +Don Luis.</p> + +<p>While Pepita herself was still scarcely conscious of the fact that she +loved Don Luis, Antoñona already knew it. Scarcely had Pepita begun to +cast on him those furtive glances, ardent and involuntary, that had +wrought such havoc—glances which had been intercepted by none of those +present when they were given—than Antoñona, who was not present, had +already spoken of them to Pepita. And no sooner had those glances been +returned in kind, than Antoñona also knew it.</p> + +<p>There was but little left, then, for the mistress to confide to a +servant of so much penetration, and who was so skilled in divination of +what passed in the inmost recesses of her breast.</p> + +<p class="top5">Five days after the date of Don Luis's last letter, our narrative +begins.</p> + +<p>It was eleven o'clock in the morning. Pepita was in an apartment on an +upper floor, contiguous to her bedroom and dressing-room, where no one +ever entered without being summoned, save Antoñona.</p> + +<p>The furniture of this apartment was simple, but comfortable and in good +taste. The curtains and the covering of the easy-chairs, the sofas and +the arm-chairs, were of a flowered cotton fabric. On a mahogany table +were writing materials and papers, and in a book-case, also of mahogany, +were many books of devotion and history. The walls were adorned with +pictures—engravings on religious subjects, but with this particularity +in their selection, unheard-of, extraordinary, almost incredible in an +Andalusian village, that, instead of being bad French lithographs, they +were engravings in the best style of Spanish art, as the <i>Spasimo di +Sicilia</i>, of Rafael; the <i>St. Ildefonso and the Virgin</i>, the +<i>Conception</i>, the <i>St. Bernard</i>, and the two <i>Lunettes</i> of Murillo.</p> + +<p>On an antique oak table, supported by fluted columns, was a small +writing-desk, or escritoire, inlaid with shell, mother-of-pearl, ivory, +and brass, and containing a great many little drawers, in which Pepita +kept bills and other papers. On this table were also two porcelain vases +filled with flowers; and, finally, hanging against the walls, were +several flower-pots of Seville Carthusian ware, containing ivy, +geranium, and other plants, and three gilded cages, in which were +canaries and larks.</p> + +<p>This apartment was the retreat of Pepita, where no one entered during +the daytime except the doctor and the reverend vicar, and, in the +evening, only the overseer to settle accounts. This apartment was called +the library, and served the purpose of one.</p> + +<p>Pepita was seated, half reclining, on a sofa, before which stood a small +table with some books upon it.</p> + +<p>She had just risen, and was attired in a light summer wrapper. Her +blonde hair, not yet arranged, looked even more beautiful in its +disorder. Her countenance, somewhat pale, and, although it still +preserved its fresh and youthful aspect, showing dark circles under the +eyes, looked more beautiful than ever under the influence of the malady, +that robbed it of color.</p> + +<p>Pepita showed signs of impatience; she was waiting for some one.</p> + +<p>At last the person she was awaiting, who proved to be the reverend +vicar, arrived, and entered without announcement.</p> + +<p>After the usual salutations the reverend vicar settled himself +comfortably in an easy-chair, and the conversation thus began:</p> + +<p>"I am very glad, my child, that you sent for me; but, even without your +doing so, I was just coming to see you. How pale you are! What is it +that ails you? Have you something of importance to tell me?"</p> + +<p>Pepita began her answer to this series of affectionate inquiries with a +deep sigh; she then said:</p> + +<p>"Do you not divine my malady? Have you not discovered the cause of my +suffering?"</p> + +<p>The vicar made a gesture of denial, and looked at Pepita with something +like terror in his gaze; for he knew nothing of all that had taken +place, and was struck by the vehemence with which she spoke.</p> + +<p>Pepita continued:</p> + +<p>"I ought not to have sent for you, father. I should have gone to the +church myself instead, to speak with you in the confessional, and there +confess my sins. But, unhappily, far from repenting of them my heart has +hardened itself in wickedness. I have neither the courage nor the +desire to speak to the confessor, but only to the friend."</p> + +<p>"What are you saying about sins and hardness of heart? Have you taken +leave of your senses? What sins can you have committed, you who are so +good?"</p> + +<p>"No, father, I am not good. I have been deceiving you; I have been +deceiving myself; I have tried to deceive God."</p> + +<p>"Come, come, calm yourself; speak with moderation and common sense, and +don't talk foolishly."</p> + +<p>"And how shall I avoid talking foolishly when the spirit of evil +possesses me?"</p> + +<p>"Holy Virgin! Don't talk nonsense, child; the demons most to be feared +that take possession of the soul are three, and none of them, I am +certain, can have dared to enter into yours. One is Leviathan, or the +spirit of Pride; the other is Mammon, or the spirit of Avarice; and the +other is Asmodeus or the spirit of Unholy Love."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am the victim of all three; all three hold dominion over me."</p> + +<p>"This is dreadful! Calm yourself, I repeat. The real trouble with you is +that you are out of your head."</p> + +<p>"Would to God it were so! The contrary, unhappily for me, is the case. I +am avaricious, because I possess riches, and do not perform the works +of charity I ought to perform; I am proud, because I scorn the addresses +of my many suitors, not through virtue, not through modesty, but because +I thought them unworthy of my love. God has punished me; God has +permitted the third enemy you have named to take possession of me."</p> + +<p>"How is this, child? What diabolical notion has entered into your mind? +Have you by chance fallen in love? And, if you have, what harm is there +in that? Are you not free? Get married, then, and stop talking nonsense. +I am certain it is my friend Don Pedro de Vargas who has wrought the +miracle. That same Don Pedro is the very devil! I confess I am +surprised, though. I did not think matters had gone quite so far as that +already."</p> + +<p>"But it is not Don Pedro de Vargas I am in love with."</p> + +<p>"And with whom, then?"</p> + +<p>Pepita rose from her seat, went to the door, opened it, looked to see if +any one was listening outside, drew near to the reverend vicar, and, +with signs of the deepest distress, in a trembling voice, and with tears +in her eyes, said, almost in the ear of the good old man:</p> + +<p>"I am hopelessly in love with his son."</p> + +<p>"With whose son?" cried the reverend vicar, who could not yet bring +himself to believe what he had heard.</p> + +<p>"With whose son should it be? I am hopelessly, desperately in love with +Don Luis."</p> + +<p>Consternation and dolorous surprise were depicted on the countenance of +the kind and simple priest. There was a moment's pause; the vicar then +said:</p> + +<p>"But this is a love without hope; a love not to be thought of. Don Luis +will not love you in return."</p> + +<p>In the midst of the tears that clouded the beautiful eyes of Pepita +gleamed a joyful light; her rosy, dewy lips, contracted by sorrow, +parted in a smile, disclosing to view her pearly teeth.</p> + +<p>"He loves me," said Pepita, with a faint and ill-concealed accent of +satisfaction and triumph that rose exultant over her sorrow and her +scruples of conscience.</p> + +<p>The consternation and the astonishment of the reverend vicar here +reached their highest pitch. If the saint to whom he paid his most +fervent devotions had been suddenly cast down from the altar before him, +and had fallen, broken into a thousand fragments at his feet, the +reverend vicar could not have felt greater consternation than he did. He +still looked at Pepita with incredulity, as if doubting whether what she +had said were true, or only a delusion of feminine vanity, so firmly +did he believe in the holiness of Don Luis, and in his +spiritual-mindedness.</p> + +<p>"He loves me," Pepita repeated, in answer to his incredulous glance.</p> + +<p>"Women are worse than the very devil!" said the vicar. "You would set a +snare for the old boy himself."</p> + +<p>"Did I not tell you already that I was very wicked?"</p> + +<p>"Come, come! calm yourself. The mercy of God is infinite. Tell me all +that has happened."</p> + +<p>"What should have happened? That he is dear to me; that I love him; that +I adore him; that he loves me, too, although he strives to conquer his +love, and, in the end, may succeed in doing so; and that you, without +knowing it, are very much to blame for it all!"</p> + +<p>"Well, this caps the climax! What do you mean by saying I am very much +to blame?"</p> + +<p>"With the extreme goodness that is characteristic of you, you have done +nothing but praise Don Luis to me; and I am sure that you have +pronounced still greater eulogies on me to him, although very much less +deserved. What is the natural consequence? Am I of bronze? Have I not +the passions of youth?"</p> + +<p>"You are more than right; I am a dolt: I have contributed, in great +part, to this work of Lucifer."</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar was so truly good, and so full of humility, that, +while pronouncing the preceding words, he showed as much confusion and +remorse as if he were the culprit and Pepita the judge.</p> + +<p>Pepita, conscious of her injustice and want of generosity in thus making +the reverend vicar the accomplice, and scarcely less than the chief +author of her fault, spoke to him thus:</p> + +<p>"Don't torment yourself, father; for God's sake, don't torment yourself! +You see now how perverse I am. I commit the greatest sins, and I want to +throw the responsibility of them on the best and the most virtuous of +men. It is not the praises you have recited to me of Don Luis that have +been my ruin, but my own eyes, and my want of circumspection. Even +though you had never spoken to me of the good qualities of Don Luis, I +should still have discovered them all by hearing him speak; for, after +all, I am not so ignorant, nor so great a fool. And, in any case, I +myself have seen the grace of his person, the natural and untaught +elegance of his manners, his eyes full of fire and intelligence, his +whole self, in a word, which seems to me altogether amiable and +desirable. Your eulogies of him have indeed pleased my vanity, but they +did not awaken my inclinations. Your praises charmed me because they +coincided with my own opinion, and were like the flattering +echo—deadened, indeed, and faint—of my thoughts. The most eloquent +encomium you have pronounced, in my hearing, on Don Luis, was far from +being equal to the encomiums that I, at each moment, at each instant, +silently pronounced upon him in my own soul."</p> + +<p>"Don't excite yourself, child," interrupted the reverend vicar.</p> + +<p>Pepita continued, with still greater exaltation:</p> + +<p>"But what a difference between your encomiums and my thoughts! For you +Don Luis was the exemplary model of the priest, the missionary, the +apostle, now preaching the gospel in distant lands, now endeavoring in +Spain to elevate Christianity, so degraded in our day through the +impiety of some, and the want of virtue, of charity, and of knowledge, +of others. I, on the contrary, pictured him to myself handsome, loving, +forgetting God for me, consecrating his life to me, giving me his soul, +becoming my stay, my support, my sweet companion. I longed to commit a +sacrilegious theft: I dreamed of stealing him from God and from his +temple, like the thief who, proclaiming himself the enemy of Heaven, +robs the sacred monstrance of its most precious jewel. To commit this +theft I have put off the mourning garments of the widow and orphan, and +have decked myself with profane adornments; I have abandoned my +seclusion, and I have sought and gathered around me society. I have +tried to make myself look beautiful; I have cared for every part of this +miserable body—that must one day be lowered into the grave, and be +converted into dust—with an unholy devotion; and, finally, I have +looked at Don Luis with provoking glances, and on shaking hands with him +I have sought to transmit from my veins to his, the inextinguishable +fire that is consuming me."</p> + +<p>"Alas! my child, what grief it gives me to hear this! Who could have +imagined it?" said the vicar.</p> + +<p>"But there is still more," resumed Pepita; "I succeeded in making Don +Luis love me. He declared it to me with his eyes. Yes, his love is as +profound, as ardent as mine. His virtues, his aspirations toward +heavenly things, his manly energy, have all urged him to conquer this +insensate passion. I sought to prevent this. One day, at the end of many +days during which he had stayed away, he came to see me, and found me +alone. When he gave me his hand, I wept; I could not speak, but hell +inspired me with an accursed, mute eloquence that told him of my grief +that he had scorned me, that he did not return my love, that he +preferred another love—a love without stain—to mine. Then he was +unable to resist the temptation, and he approached his lips to my face +to kiss away my tears. Our lips met. If God had not willed that you +should approach at that moment, what would have become of me?"</p> + +<p>"How shameful! my child, how shameful!" said the reverend vicar.</p> + +<p>Pepita covered her face with both hands and began to sob like a +Magdalen. Her hands were, in truth, beautiful, more beautiful even than +Don Luis had described them to be in his letters. Their whiteness, their +pure transparency, the tapering form of the fingers, the roseate hue, +the polish and the brilliancy of the pearl-like nails, all were such as +might turn the head of any man.</p> + +<p>The virtuous vicar could understand, notwithstanding his eighty years, +the fall, or rather the slip, of Don Luis.</p> + +<p>"Child!" he exclaimed, "don't cry so! It breaks my heart to see you. +Calm yourself; Don Luis has no doubt repented of his sin; do you repent +likewise, and nothing more need be said. God will pardon you both, and +make a couple of saints of you. Since Don Luis is going away the day +after to-morrow, it is a sure sign that virtue has triumphed in him, and +that he flies from you, as he should, that he may do penance for his +sin, fulfill his vow, and return to his vocation."</p> + +<p>"That is all very well," replied Pepita; "fulfill his vow, return to his +vocation, after giving me my death-wound! Why did he love me, why did he +encourage me, why did he deceive me? His kiss was a brand, it was as a +hot iron with which he marked me and stamped me as his slave. Now that I +am marked and enslaved, he abandons and betrays and destroys me. A good +beginning to give to his missions, his preachings, and gospel triumphs! +It shall not be! By Heaven, it shall not be!"</p> + +<p>This outbreak of anger and scorned love confounded the reverend vicar.</p> + +<p>Pepita had risen. Her attitude, her gesture, had something in them of +tragic animation. Her eyes gleamed like daggers; they shone like two +suns. The vicar was silent, and regarded her almost with terror. She +paced with hasty steps up and down the apartment. She did not now seem +like a timid gazelle, but like an angry lioness.</p> + +<p>"What!" she said, once more facing the vicar, "has he nothing to do but +laugh at me, tear my heart to pieces, humiliate it, trample it under +foot, after having cheated me out of it? He shall remember me! He shall +pay me for this! If he is so holy, if he is so virtuous, why did he, +with his glance, promise me everything? If he loves God so much, why +does he seek to hurt one of God's poor creatures? Is this charity? Is +this religion? No; it is pitiless selfishness."</p> + +<p>Pepita's anger could not last long. After she had spoken the last words, +it turned to dejection. She sank into a chair, weeping bitterly, and +abandoning herself to an anguish heart-breaking to witness.</p> + +<p>The vicar's heart was touched with pity; but he recovered himself on +seeing that the enemy gave signs of yielding.</p> + +<p>"Pepita, child," he said, "be reasonable; don't torment yourself in this +way. Console yourself with the thought that it was not without a hard +struggle he was able to conquer himself; that he has not deceived you; +that he loves you with his whole soul, but that God and his duty come +first. This life is short, and soon passes. In heaven you will be +reunited, and will love each other, as the angels love. God will accept +your sacrifice; he will reward you, and repay you with interest. Even +your self-love ought to be satisfied. How great must be your merit, when +you have caused a man like Don Luis to waver in his resolution, and even +to sin! How deep must be the wound you have made in his heart! Let this +suffice you. Be generous! be courageous! Be his rival in firmness. Let +him depart; cast out from your heart the fire of impure love; love him +as your neighbor, for the love of God. Guard his image in your memory, +but as that of the creature, reserving to the Creator the noblest part +of your soul. I know not what I am saying to you, my child, for I am +very much troubled; but you have a great deal of intelligence and a +great deal of common sense, and you will understand what I mean. +Besides, there are powerful worldly reasons against this absurd love, +even if the vocation and the vow of Don Luis were not opposed to it. His +father is your suitor. He aspires to your hand, even though you do not +love him. Does it look well that the son should turn out now to be the +rival of his father? Will not the father be displeased with the son for +loving you? See how dreadful all this is, and control yourself for the +sake of Jesus and his blessed Mother."</p> + +<p>"How easy it is to give advice!" returned Pepita, becoming a little +calmer. "How hard for me to follow it, when there is a fierce and +unchained tempest, as it were, raging in my soul! I am afraid I shall go +mad."</p> + +<p>"The advice I give you is for your own good. Let Don Luis depart. +Absence is a great remedy for the malady of love. In giving himself up +to his studies, and consecrating himself to the service of the altar, he +will be cured of his passion. When he is far away, you will recover your +serenity by degrees, and will preserve in your memory only a grateful +and melancholy recollection of him that will do you no harm. It will be +like a beautiful poem whose music will harmonize your existence. Even if +all your desires could be fulfilled—earthly love lasts, after all, but +a short time. The delight the imagination anticipates in its +enjoyment—what is it in comparison with the bitter dregs that remain +behind, when the cup has been drained to the bottom? How much better is +it that your love, hardly yet contaminated, hardly despoiled of its +purity, should be dissipated, and exhale itself now, rising up to heaven +like a cloud of incense, than that, after it is once satisfied, it +should perish through satiety! Have the courage to put away from your +lips the cup while you have hardly tasted of its contents. Make of them +a libation and an offering to the Divine Redeemer. He will give you, in +exchange, the draught he offered to the Samaritan—a draught that does +not satiate, that quenches the thirst, and that produces eternal life."</p> + +<p>"How good you are, father! Your holy words lend me courage. I will +control myself; I will conquer myself. It would be shameful—would it +not?—that Don Luis should be able to control and conquer himself, and +that I should not be able to do so? Let him depart. He is going away the +day after to-morrow; let him go with God's blessing. See his card. He +was here with his father to take leave of me, and I would not receive +him. I do not even want to preserve the poetical remembrance of him of +which you speak. This love has been a nightmare; I will cast it away +from me."</p> + +<p>"Good! very good! It is thus that I want to see you—energetic, +courageous."</p> + +<p>"Ah, father, God has cast down my pride with this blow. I was insolent +in my arrogance, and the scorn of this man was necessary to my +self-abasement. Could I be more humbled or more resigned than I am now? +Don Luis is right: I am not worthy of him. However great the efforts I +might make, I could not succeed in elevating myself to him and +comprehending him, in putting my spirit into perfect communication with +his. I am a rude country girl, unlearned, uncultured; and he—there is +no science he does not understand, no secret of which he is ignorant, no +region of the intellectual world, however exalted, to which he may not +soar. Thither on the wings of his genius does he mount; and me he leaves +behind in this lower sphere, poor, ignorant woman that I am, incapable +of following him even in my hopes or with my aspirations."</p> + +<p>"But, Pepita, for Heaven's sake don't say such things, or think them! +Don Luis does not scorn you because you are ignorant, or because you are +incapable of comprehending him, or for any other of those absurd reasons +that you are stringing together. He goes away because he must fulfill +his obligation toward God; and you should rejoice that he is going away, +for you will then forget your love for him, and God will reward you for +the sacrifice you make."</p> + +<p class="top5">Pepita, who had left off crying, and had dried her tears with her +handkerchief, answered quietly:</p> + +<p>"Very well, father; I shall be very glad of it; I am almost glad now +that he is going away. I long for to-morrow to pass, and for the time to +come when Antoñona shall say to me on wakening, 'Don Luis is gone.' You +shall see then how peace and serenity will spring up again in my heart."</p> + +<p>"God grant it may be so!" said the reverend vicar; and, convinced that +he had wrought a miracle and almost cured Pepita's malady, he took leave +of her and went home, unable to repress a certain feeling of vanity at +the thought of the influence he had exercised over the noble spirit of +this charming woman.</p> + +<p>Pepita, who had risen as the reverend vicar was about to take his leave, +after she had closed the door, stood for a moment immovable in the +middle of the room, her gaze fixed on space, her eyes tearless. A poet +or an artist, seeing her thus, would have been reminded of Ariadne, as +Catullus describes her, after Theseus has abandoned her on the island +of Naxos. All at once, as if she had but just succeeded in untying the +knot of a cord that was strangling her, Pepita broke into heart-rending +sobs, let loose a torrent of tears, and threw herself down on the tiled +floor of her apartment. There, her face buried in her hands, her hair +unbound, her dress disordered, she continued to sigh and moan.</p> + +<p>She might have remained thus for an indefinite time if Antoñona had not +come to her. Antoñona had heard her sobs from without and hurried to her +apartment. When she saw her mistress extended on the floor, Antoñona +gave way to a thousand extravagant expressions of fury.</p> + +<p>"Here's a pretty sight!" she cried; "that sneak, that blackguard, that +old fool, what a way he has to console his friends! I shouldn't wonder +if he has committed some piece of barbarity—given a couple of kicks to +this poor child, perhaps; and now I suppose he has gone back to the +church to get everything ready to sing the funeral chant, and sprinkle +her with hyssop, and bury her out of sight without more ado."</p> + +<p>Antoñona was about forty, and a hard worker—energetic, and stronger +than many a laborer. She often lifted up, with scarcely more than the +strength of her hand, a skin of oil or of wine, weighing nearly ninety +pounds, and placed it on the back of a mule, or carried a bag of wheat +up to the garret where the grain was kept. Although Pepita was not a +feather, Antoñona now lifted her up in her arms from the floor as if she +had been one, and placed her carefully on the sofa, as though she were +some delicate and precious piece of porcelain that she feared to break.</p> + +<p>"What is the meaning of all this?" asked Antoñona. "I wager anything +that drone of a vicar has been preaching you a sermon as bitter as +aloes, and has left you now with your heart torn to pieces with grief."</p> + +<p>Pepita continued to weep and sob without answering.</p> + +<p>"Come, leave off crying, and tell me what is the matter. What has the +vicar said to you?"</p> + +<p>"He said nothing that could offend me," finally answered Pepita.</p> + +<p>Then, seeing that Antoñona was waiting anxiously to hear her speak, and +feeling the need of unburdening herself to some one who could sympathize +more fully with her, and, humanly speaking, could better comprehend her +than the vicar, Pepita spoke as follows:</p> + +<p>"The reverend vicar has admonished me gently to repent of my sins; to +allow Don Luis to go away; to rejoice at his departure; to forget him. I +have said yes to everything; I have promised him to rejoice at Don +Luis's departure; I have tried to forget him, and even to hate him. But +look you, Antoñona, I can not; it is an undertaking superior to my +strength. While the vicar was here, I thought I had strength for +everything; but no sooner had he gone than, as if God had let go his +hold of me, I lost my courage, and fell, crushed with sorrow, on the +floor. I had dreamed of a happy life at the side of the man I love; I +already saw myself elevated to him by the miraculous power of love; my +poor mind in perfect communion with his sublime intellect; my will one +with his; both thinking the same thought; our hearts beating in unison. +And now God has taken him away from me, and I am left alone, without +hope or consolation. Is not this frightful? The arguments of the +reverend vicar are just and full of wisdom; for the time, they convinced +me. But he has gone away, and all those arguments now seem to me +worthless—a tissue of words, lies, entanglements, and sophistries. I +love Don Luis, and this argument is more powerful than all other +arguments put together. And if he loves me in return, why does he not +leave everything and come to me, break the vows he has taken, and +renounce the obligations he has contracted? I did not know what love +was; now I know; there is nothing stronger on earth or in heaven. What +would I not do for Don Luis? And he—he does nothing for me! Perhaps he +does not love me. No; Don Luis does not love me. I have deceived +myself; I was blinded by vanity. If Don Luis loved me, he would +sacrifice his plans, his vows, his fame, his aspirations to be a saint +and a light of the Church, he would sacrifice all to me. God forgive me, +what I am about to say is horrible, but I feel it here in the depths of +my heart, it burns here in my fevered brow: for him I would give even +the salvation of my soul!"</p> + +<p>"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Antoñona.</p> + +<p>"It is true; may our blessed Lady of Sorrows pardon me—I am mad—I know +not what I say. I blaspheme!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, child; you are talking indeed a little naughtily. Heaven help us! +To think how this cox-comb of a theologian has turned your head! Well, +if I were in your place, I would not take Heaven to task, which is in no +wise to blame, but this jackanapes of a collegian, and I would have it +out with him, or never again call myself Pepita Ximenez. I should like +to go hunt him up, and bring him here to you by the ear, and make him go +down on his knees before you, and beg your pardon."</p> + +<p>"No, Antoñona; I see that my madness is contagious, and that you are +raving, too. There is, in fact, nothing left for me to do but what the +reverend vicar advises. And I will do it, even though it should cost me +my life. If I die for him, he will then love me; he will cherish my +image in his memory, my love in his heart; and God, who is so good, will +permit me to see him again in heaven with the eyes of the soul, and will +let our spirits mingle together and love each other there."</p> + +<p>Antoñona, although of a rugged nature, and not at all sentimental, on +hearing these words felt the tears start to her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Good gracious, child!" she said; "do you want to make me take out my +handkerchief and begin to bellow like a calf? Calm yourself, and don't +talk about dying, even in jest. I can see that your nerves are very much +excited. Shan't I bring you a cup of linden tea?"</p> + +<p>"No, thanks; leave me; you see how calm I am now."</p> + +<p>"I shall close the window, then, to see if you can sleep. How should you +feel well, when you have not slept for days? The devil take that same +Don Luis, with his fancy for making himself a priest! A nice price you +are paying for it!"</p> + +<p>Pepita had closed her eyes; she was calm and silent, weary now of her +colloquy with Antoñona.</p> + +<p>The latter, either thinking she was asleep, or hoping her to be so, bent +over Pepita, imprinted a kiss softly and slowly on her white forehead, +smoothed oat the folds of her dress, arranged the windows so as to leave +the room in semi-obscurity, and went out on tiptoe, closing the door +behind her without making the slightest noise.</p> + +<p class="top5">While these things were taking place at the house of Pepita, Don Luis de +Vargas in his was neither happier nor more tranquil than was she +herself.</p> + +<p>His father, who scarcely let a day pass without riding out into the +country, had to-day wished to take Don Luis with him; but, with the +pretext of a headache, he had excused himself, and Don Pedro had gone +without him. Don Luis had spent the whole morning alone, delivered up to +his melancholy thoughts, and continuing firm as a rock in his resolution +of blotting from his soul the image of Pepita, and of consecrating +himself wholly to God.</p> + +<p>Let it not be supposed, however, that he did not love the young widow. +We have already, in his letters, seen the proof of the vehemence of his +passion for her, but he continued his efforts to curb it by means of the +devout sentiments and elevated reflections of which he has given us in +his letters so extended a specimen, and of which we may here omit a +repetition, in order not to appear prolix.</p> + +<p>Perhaps, if we examine into this matter closely, we shall find that the +reasons which militated in the breast of Don Luis against his love for +Pepita were not only his vow to himself, which, though unconfirmed, was +binding in his eyes, or the love of God, or respect for his father, +whose rival he did not wish to be, or, finally, the vocation which he +felt himself to have for the priesthood. There were other reasons of a +more doubtful character than these.</p> + +<p>Don Luis was stubborn; he was obstinate; he had that quality of soul +which, well directed, constitutes what is called firmness of character, +and there was nothing that lowered him more in his own eyes than to feel +himself obliged to change his opinions or his conduct. The purpose of +his life, a purpose which he had declared and maintained on all +occasions, his moral ideal, in a word, was that of an aspirant to +holiness, of a man consecrated to God, of one imbued with the sublimest +religious teachings. All this could not fall to earth, as it would fall, +if he allowed himself to be carried away by his love for Pepita, without +great discredit. Although the price, indeed, was in this case +incomparably higher, yet Don Luis felt that, should he yield to his +passion, he would be following the example of Esau, selling his +birthright and bringing opprobrium on his name.</p> + +<p>Men, as a rule, allow themselves to be the plaything of circumstances; +they let themselves be carried along by the current of events, instead +of devoting all their energies to one single aim. We do not choose our +part in life, but accept and play the part allotted us, that which blind +fortune assigns to us. The profession, the political faith, the entire +life of many men depend on chance circumstances, on what is fortuitous, +on the caprice and the unexpected turns of fate.</p> + +<p>Against all this the pride of Don Luis rebelled with titanic power. What +would be thought of him, and above all, what would he think of himself +if the ideal of his life, the new man that he had created in his soul, +if all his plans of virtue, of honor, and even of holy ambition, should +vanish in an instant, should melt away in the warmth of a glance, at the +fugitive flame of a pair of beautiful eyes, as the hoar-frost melts in +the yet mild ray of the morning sun?</p> + +<p>These and other reasons of a like egotistic nature also militated, in +the breast of Don Luis, side by side with more weighty and legitimate +ones, against the widow; but every argument clothed itself in the same +religious garb, so that Don Luis himself was unable to recognize and +distinguish between them, believing to be the love of God not only what +was in truth the love of God, but also self-love. He recalled to mind, +for instance, the examples of many saints who had resisted greater +temptations than his, and he did not wish to be less than they. And he +recalled to mind, above all, the notable firmness of St. Chrysostom, who +was able to disregard the caresses of a tender and good mother, and her +tears and gentle entreaties, and all the eloquent and touching words she +spoke to him, in the very room where he was born, to the end that he +might not abandon her and become a priest. And, after reflecting on +this, Don Luis could not tolerate in himself the weakness of being +unable to scorn the entreaties of a woman who was a stranger to him, +whom he had known for so short a time, and of still wavering between his +duty and the attractions of one who was, perhaps, after all, rather than +enamored of him, merely a coquette.</p> + +<p>Don Luis then reflected on the supreme elevation of the sacerdotal +dignity to which he was called, regarding it in his thoughts as superior +to all the dignities and unsatisfying honors of the world; since it was +founded, neither by any mortal man, nor by the caprice of the variable +and servile populace, nor by the irruption or invasion of barbarians, +nor by the violence of rebellious armies urged on by greed, nor by angel +nor archangel, nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete himself. +How, for a motive so unworthy, for a mere woman, for a tear or two, +feigned, perhaps, scorn that august dignity, that authority that was not +conceded by God even to the archangels nearest to his throne? How +should he descend to be confounded among the obscure people, and become +one of the flock—he who had dreamed of being the shepherd, tying and +untying on earth what God should tie and untie in heaven, pardoning +sins, regenerating the people by water and by the spirit, teaching them +in the name of an infallible authority, pronouncing judgments that +should be ratified and confirmed by the Lord of the heavens—he, the +instructor and the minister in tremendous mysteries inscrutable by human +reason, calling down from heaven, not, like Elias, the flame that +consumes the victim, but the Holy Spirit, the Word made flesh, the river +of grace that purifies hearts and makes them clean like unalloyed gold?</p> + +<p>When Don Luis let his mind dwell on these thoughts, his spirit took +wings and soared up above the clouds into the empyrean, and poor Pepita +Ximenez remained below, far away, and hardly within sight.</p> + +<p>But the wings of his imagination soon drooped, and the spirit of Don +Luis touched earth again. Again he saw Pepita, so graceful, so young, so +ingenuous, and so enamored. Pepita combated in his soul his firmest and +most deep-seated resolutions, and Don Luis feared that in the end she +would put them all to flight.</p> + +<p>In this way was Don Luis allowing himself to be tormented by opposing +thoughts, that made war on each other, when Currito, without asking +leave or license, entered his room.</p> + +<p>Currito, who had held his cousin in very slight esteem so long as he was +only a student of theology, now regarded him with wonder and veneration, +looking upon him, from the moment when he had seen him manage Lucero so +skillfully, as something more than human.</p> + +<p>To know theology, and to be ignorant of horsemanship, was something +unflattering to Don Luis in the eyes of Currito; but when Currito saw +that, in addition to his learning, and to all those other matters of +which he himself knew nothing, although he supposed them to be difficult +and perplexing, Don Luis knew, besides, how to keep his seat so +admirably on the back of a fiery horse, his veneration and his affection +for his cousin knew no bounds. Currito was an idler, a good-for-nothing, +a very block of wood, but he had an affectionate and loyal heart.</p> + +<p>To Don Luis, who was the idol of Currito, happened what happens to all +superior natures when inferior persons take a liking to them. Don Luis +permitted himself to be loved, that is to say, he was governed +despotically by Currito in matters of little importance. And, as for men +like Don Luis there are hardly any matters of importance in common +daily life, the result was that Don Luis was led about by Currito like a +little dog.</p> + +<p>"I have come for you," the latter said, "to take you with me to the +club-house, which is full of people to-day, and presents a very animated +appearance. What is the use of sitting here longer, gazing into vacancy, +as if you were waiting to catch flies?"</p> + +<p>Don Luis, without offering any resistance, and as if these words were a +command, took his hat and cane, and saying, "Let us go wherever you +wish," followed Currito, who led the way, very well pleased with the +influence he exercised over his cousin.</p> + +<p>The club-house was full of people, owing to the festivities of the +morrow, which was St. John's day. Besides the gentry of the village, +many strangers were there, who had come in from the neighboring villages +to be present at the fair and the vigil in the evening.</p> + +<p>The principal point of reunion was the court-yard, which was paved with +marble. In its center played a fountain, which was adorned with +flower-pots containing roses, pinks, sweet-basil, and other flowers. +Around this court-yard ran a corridor or gallery, supported by marble +columns, in which, as well as in the various saloons that opened into +it, were tables for <i>ombre</i>, others with newspapers lying on them, +others where coffee and other refreshments were served, and finally, +lounges, benches, and several easy-chairs. The walls were like snow, +from frequent whitening; nor were pictures wanting for their adornment. +There were French colored lithographs, a minute explanation of the +subject of each being written, both in French and in Spanish below. Some +of them represented scenes to The life of Napoleon, from Toulon to St. +Helena; others, the adventures of Matilda and Malek-Adel; others. +Incidents in love and war, in the lives of the Templar, Rebecca, Lady +Rowena, and Ivanhoe; and others, the gallantries, the intrigues, the +lapses and the conversions of Louis XIV. and Mademoiselle de la +Vallière.</p> + +<p>Currito took Don Luis, and Don Luis allowed himself to be taken, to the +saloon where were gathered the cream of the fashion, the dandies and +<i>cocodés</i> of the village and of the surrounding district. Prominent +among these was the Count of Genazahar, of the neighboring city of—. +The Count was an illustrious and much admired personage. He had made +visits of great length to Madrid and Seville, and, whether as a country +dandy or as a young nobleman, was always attired by the most fashionable +tailors.</p> + +<p>The Count of Genazahar was a little past thirty. He was good-looking, +and he knew it; and could boast of his prowess in peace and in war, in +duels and in love-making. The Count, however—and this notwithstanding +the fact that he had been one of the most persistent suitors of +Pepita—had received the sugar-coated pill of refusal that she was +accustomed to bestow on those who paid their addresses to her and +aspired to her hand.</p> + +<p>He had not yet recovered from the irritation produced in his proud heart +by this rejection. Love had turned into hatred, and the count lost no +occasion of giving utterance to his feelings, holding Pepita up, on such +occasions, to the most merciless ridicule.</p> + +<p>The count was engaged in this agreeable exercise, when, by an evil +chance, Don Luis and Currito approached, and joined the crowd that was +listening to the odd species of panegyric, which opened to receive them. +Don Luis, as if the devil himself had had the arrangement of the matter, +found himself face to face with the count, who was speaking as follows:</p> + +<p>"She's a cunning one, this same Pepita Ximenez, with more fancies and +whims than the Princess Micomicona. She wants to make us forget that she +was born in poverty, and lived in poverty until she married that +accursed usurer, Don Gumersindo, and took possession of his dollars. The +only good action this same widow has performed in her life was to +conspire with Satan to send the rogue quickly to hell, and free the +earth from such a contamination and plague. Pepita now has a hobby for +virtue and for chastity. All that may be very well; but how do we know +that she has not a secret intrigue with some plowboy, and is not +deceiving the world as if she were Queen Artemisia herself?"</p> + +<p>People of quiet tastes, who seldom take part in reunions of men only, +may perhaps be scandalized by this language; it may appear to them +indecent and brutal, even to the point of incredibility; but those who +know the world will confess that language like this is very generally +employed in it, and that the most amiable and agreeable women, the most +honorable matrons, if they chance to have an enemy, or even without +having one, are often made the subjects of accusations no less infamous +and vile than those made by the count against Pepita; for scandal is +often indulged in, or, to speak more accurately, dishonor and insult are +disseminated, for the purpose of showing wit and the power to entertain.</p> + +<p>Don Luis—who, from a child, had been accustomed to the consideration +and respect of those around him, first, of the servants and dependents +of his father, who gratified him in all his wishes, and then, of every +one in the seminary, where, as well because he was a nephew of the dean, +as on account of his own merits, he had never been contradicted in +anything, but, on the contrary, always pleased and flattered—stood, +when he heard the insolent count thus drag in the dust the name of the +woman he loved, as if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet.</p> + +<p>But how undertake her defense? He knew, indeed, that although he was +neither husband, brother, nor other relative of Pepita's, he might yet +come forward in her defense, as a man of honor; but he saw well the +scandal this would give rise to, since, far from saying a word in her +favor, all the other persons present joined in applauding the wit of the +count. He, already the minister, almost, of a God of peace, could not be +the one to give the lie to this ruffian, and thus expose himself to the +risk of a quarrel.</p> + +<p>Don Luis was on the point of departing in silence. But his heart would +not consent to this, and, striving to clothe himself with an authority +which was justified neither by his years nor by his countenance, where +the beard had scarcely begun to make its appearance, nor by his presence +in that place, he began to speak with earnest eloquence in denunciation +of all slanderers, and to reproach the count, with the freedom of a +Christian and in severe accents, with the vileness of his conduct.</p> + +<p>This was to preach in the desert, or worse. The count answered his +homily with gibes and jests; the by-standers, among whom were many +strangers, took the part of the jester, notwithstanding the fact that +Don Luis was the son of the squire. Even Currito, who was of no account +whatever, and who was, besides, a coward, although he did not laugh, yet +made no effort to take the part of his friend, and the latter was +obliged to withdraw, disturbed and humiliated by the ridicule he had +drawn on himself.</p> + +<p class="top5">"This flower only was wanting to complete the nosegay," muttered poor +Don Luis between his teeth when he had reached his house and shut +himself up in his room, vexed and ill at ease because of the jeers of +which he had been the butt. He exaggerated them to himself; they seemed +to him unendurable. He threw himself into a chair, depressed and +disheartened, and a thousand contradictory ideas assailed his mind at +once.</p> + +<p>The blood of his father, which boiled in his veins, incited him to +anger, and urged him to throw aside the clerical garb, as he had in the +beginning been advised to do in the village, and then give the count his +deserts; but the whole future he had planned for himself would be thus, +at a blow, destroyed. He pictured to himself the dean disowning him; and +even the Pope, who had already sent the pontifical dispensation +permitting him to be ordained before the required age, and the bishop +of the diocese, who had based the petition for the dispensation on his +approved virtue and learning and on the firmness of his vocation, all +appeared before him now to reproach him.</p> + +<p>Then the humorous theory of his father in regard to those other +arguments, in addition to those of persuasion, of which the apostle St. +James, the bishops of the middle ages, and St. Ignatius Loyola had made +use, occurred to his mind, and it seemed to him now not so preposterous +as before, and he almost repented not having put them into practice.</p> + +<p>He then recalled to mind the custom of an orthodox doctor, a +distinguished philosopher of Persia, of our own day, mentioned in a book +recently written on that country—a custom which consisted in punishing +with harsh words his hearers and pupils when they laughed at his +teachings or could not understand them, and, if this did not suffice, in +descending from his chair, saber in hand, and giving them all a beating. +This method, as it appears, had proved efficacious, especially in +controversy; although it had chanced that the said philosopher, coming +across an opponent of the same way of thinking as himself, had received +from him a severe wound in the face.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, in the midst of his mortification and ill-humor, could not +help laughing at the absurdity of this recollection. He thought there +were not wanting in Spain philosophers who would willingly adopt the +Persian method; and, if he himself did not put it into practice, it was +certainly not through fear of the wounds he might receive, but through +considerations of greater weight.</p> + +<p>"I did very wrong in preaching there," he said to himself. "I should +have remained silent. Our Lord Jesus Christ has said, 'Give not that +which is holy to dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest +they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.'</p> + +<p>"But, no; why should I complain? Why should I return insult for insult? +Why should I allow myself to be vanquished by anger! Many holy fathers +have said, 'Anger in a priest is even worse than lasciviousness.' The +anger of priests has caused many tears to be shed, and has been the +cause of terrible evils.</p> + +<p>"Anger perhaps it was—this terrible counselor—that at times persuaded +them that it was necessary for the people to shed blood at the Divine +command, and that brought before their sanguinary eyes the vision of +Isaiah; they have then seen, and caused their fanatic followers to see, +the meek Lamb converted into an inexorable avenger, descending from the +summit of Edom, proud in the multitude of his strength, trampling the +nations under foot, as the treader tramples the grapes in the +wine-press, their garments raised, and covered with blood to the thighs. +Ah, no; my God! I am about to become thy minister. Thou art a God of +peace, and my first duty should be meekness. Thou makest the sun to +shine on the just and the unjust, and pourest down upon all alike the +fertilizing rain of thy inexhaustible goodness. Thou art our Father who +dwellest in the heavens, and we should be perfect, even as thou art +perfect, pardoning those who have offended us, and asking thee to pardon +them, because they know not what they do. I should recall to mind the +beatitudes of the Scripture: Blessed are ye when they revile you and +persecute you, and say all manner of evil things against you. The +minister of God, or he who is about to become his minister, must be +humble, peaceable, meek of heart; not like the oak that lifts itself up +proudly, until the thunderbolt strike it, but like the fragrant herbs of +the woods, and the modest flowers of the fields, that give sweeter and +more grateful perfume after the rustic has trodden them under foot."</p> + +<p>In these and other meditations of a like nature the hours passed until +three o'clock, when Don Pedro, who had just returned from the country, +entered his son's room to call him to dinner. The gay joviality of his +father, his jest, his affectionate attentions daring the meal, were all +of no avail to draw Don Luis from his melancholy, or to give him an +appetite; he ate little, and scarcely spoke while they were at table.</p> + +<p>Although much troubled by the silent melancholy of his son, whose +health, though indeed robust, was yet not beyond risk of being affected, +Don Pedro, who rose with the dawn and had a busy time of it during the +day, when he had finished his after-dinner cigar and taken his cup of +coffee and his glass of anisette, felt fatigued, and went, according to +his custom, to take his two or three hours of <i>siesta</i>.</p> + +<p>Don Luis had taken good care not to draw the attention of his father to +the offense done him by the Count of Genazahar. His father, who, for his +part, had no intention of fitting himself to celebrate mass, and who, +besides, was not of a very meek disposition, would have rushed +instantly, had he done so, to take the vengeance Don Luis had failed to +take.</p> + +<p>When his father had retired, Don Luis also left the dining-room, that he +might, in the seclusion of his own apartment, give himself up +undisturbed to his thoughts.</p> + +<p class="top5">He had been sunk in them for a long time, seated before his desk, with +his elbows resting upon it, when he heard a noise close by. He raised +his eyes, and saw standing beside him the meddlesome Antoñona, who, +although of such massive proportions, had entered like a shadow, and was +now watching him attentively with a mixture of pity and of anger in her +glance.</p> + +<p>Antoñona, taking advantage of the hour in which the servants dined and +Don Pedro slept, had penetrated thus far without being observed, and had +opened the door of the room and closed it behind her so gently that Don +Luis, even if he had been less absorbed in meditation than he was, would +not have noticed it.</p> + +<p>She had come resolved to hold a very serious conference with Don Luis, +but she did not quite know what she was going to say to him. +Nevertheless, she had asked heaven or hell, whichever of the two it may +have been, to loosen her tongue and bestow upon her the gift of speech; +not such grotesque and vulgar speech as she generally used, but correct, +elegant, and adapted to the noble reflections and beautiful things she +thought it necessary for the carrying out of her purpose to say.</p> + +<p>When Don Luis saw Antoñona, he frowned, and showed by his manner how +much this visit displeased him, at the same time saying roughly:</p> + +<p>"What do you want here? Go away!"</p> + +<p>"I have come to call you to account about my young mistress," returned +Antoñona, quietly, "and I shall not go away until you have answered +me."</p> + +<p>She then drew a chair toward the table and sat down in it, facing Don +Luis with coolness and effrontery.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, seeing there was no help for it, restrained his anger, armed +himself with patience, and, in accents less harsh than before, +exclaimed:</p> + +<p>"Say what you have to say!"</p> + +<p>"I have to say," resumed Antoñona, "that what you are plotting against +my mistress is a piece of wickedness. You are behaving like a villain. +You have bewitched her; you have given her some malignant potion. The +poor angel is going to die; she neither eats nor sleeps, nor has a +moment's peace, on account of you. To-day she has had two or three +hysterical attacks at the bare thought of your going away. A good deed +you have done before becoming a priest! Tell me, wretch, why did you not +stay where you were, with your uncle, instead of coming here? She, who +was so free, so completely mistress of her own will, enslaving that of +others, and allowing her own to be taken captive by none, has fallen +into your treacherous snares. Your hypocritical sanctity was, doubtless, +the lure you employed. With your theologies and your pious humbugs you +have acted like the wily and cruel sportsman, who attracts to him by his +whistle the silly thrushes, only to strangle them in the net."</p> + +<p>"Antoñona," returned Don Luis, "leave me in peace. For God's sake, +cease to torture me! I am a villain; I confess it. I ought not to have +looked at your mistress; I ought not to have allowed her to believe that +I loved her; but I loved her, and I love her still, with my whole heart; +and I have given her no other potion or philter than the love I have for +her. It is my duty, nevertheless, to cast away, to forget this love. God +commands me to do so. Do you imagine that the sacrifice I make will not +be—is not already—a tremendous one? Pepita ought to arm herself with +fortitude and make a similar sacrifice."</p> + +<p>"You do not give even that consolation to the unhappy creature," replied +Antoñona. "You sacrifice voluntarily, on the altar, this woman who loves +you, who is already yours—your victim. But she—what claim has she on +you that she should offer you up as a sacrifice? What is the precious +jewel she is going to renounce, what the beautiful ornament she is going +to cast into the flames, but an ill-requited love? How is she going to +give to God what she does not possess? Is she going to try to cheat God, +and say to him: 'My God, since he does not love me, here he is; I offer +him up to you; I will not love him either.' God never laughs—if he did, +he would laugh at such a present as that!"</p> + +<p>Don Luis, confounded, did not know what answer to return to these +arguments of Antoñona, more atrocious than her former pinches. Besides, +it was repugnant to him to discuss the metaphysics of love with a +servant.</p> + +<p>"Let us leave aside," he said, "these idle discussions. I can not cure +the malady of your mistress. What would you have me do?"</p> + +<p>"What would I have you do?" replied Antoñona, more gently, and with +insinuating accents; "I will tell you what I would have you do. If you +can not cure the malady of my mistress, you should, at least, alleviate +it a little. Are you not saintly? Well, the saints are compassionate, +and courageous besides. Don't run away like an ill-mannered coward, +without saying good-by. Come to see my mistress, who is sick. Do this +work of mercy."</p> + +<p>"And what would be gained by such a visit? It would aggravate her +malady, instead of curing it."</p> + +<p>"It will not do so; you don't see the matter in its proper light. You +shall go to see her, and, with your honeyed tongue and the gift of the +gab that nature has bestowed upon you, you will put some resignation +into her soul, and leave her consoled for your departure; and if you +tell her, in addition to this, that you love her, and that it is only +for the sake of God you are leaving her, her woman's vanity, at least, +will not be wounded."</p> + +<p>"What you propose to me is to tempt God; it is dangerous both for her +and for me."</p> + +<p>"And why should it be to tempt God? Since God can see the rectitude and +the purity of your intentions, will he not grant you his favor and his +grace that you may not yield to temptation during the visit to her, +which it is but justice you should make? Ought you not to fly to her to +deliver her from despair, and bring her back to the right path? If she +should die of grief at seeing herself scorned; or if, in a frenzy, she +should seize a rope and hang herself to a beam, I tell you, your remorse +would be harder to bear than the flames of pitch and sulphur that +surround the caldrons of Lucifer."</p> + +<p>"This is horrible! I would not have her grow desperate. I shall arm +myself with courage—I will go to see her."</p> + +<p>"May Heaven bless you! But my heart told me you would go. How good you +are!"</p> + +<p>"When do you wish me to go?"</p> + +<p>"To-night, at ten o'clock precisely. I will be at the street-door +waiting for you, and will take you to her."</p> + +<p>"Does she know you have come to see me?"</p> + +<p>"She does not—it was all my own idea; but I will prepare her +cautiously, so that the surprise, the unexpected joy of your visit, may +not be too much for her. You promise me to come?"</p> + +<p>"I will go."</p> + +<p>"Good-by. Don't fail to come. At ten o'clock precisely. I shall be at +the door."</p> + +<p>And Antoñona hurried away, descended the steps two at a time, and so +gained the street.</p> + +<p class="top5">It can not be denied that Antoñona displayed great prudence on this +occasion, and that her language was so dignified and proper that some +may think it apocryphal, if there were not the very best authority for +all that is related here, and if we did not know, besides, the wonders +the natural cleverness of a woman may work when she is spurred on by +interest or by some strong passion.</p> + +<p>Great, indeed, was the affection Antoñona entertained for her mistress, +and, seeing her so much in love and in such desperate case, she could do +no less than seek a remedy for her ills. The consent she had succeeded +in obtaining from Don Luis to her request that he should pay a visit to +Pepita was an unexpected triumph; and, in order to derive the greatest +possible advantage from this triumph, she was obliged to make the most +of her time, and to use all her worldly wisdom in preparing for the +occasion.</p> + +<p>Antoñona had suggested ten as the hour of Don Luis's visit, because this +was the hour in which Don Luis and Pepita had been accustomed to see +each other in the now abolished or suspended gatherings at the house of +the later. She had suggested this hour also in order to avoid giving +rise to scandal or slander; for she had once heard a preacher say that, +according to the gospel, there is nothing so wicked as scandal, and that +the scandal-monger ought to be flung into the sea with a mill-stone hung +round his neck.</p> + +<p>Antoñona, then, returned to the house of her mistress, very well +satisfied with herself and with the firm determination so to arrange +matters that the remedy she had sought should not prove useless, or +aggravate instead of curing Pepita's malady. She resolved to say nothing +of the matter to Pepita herself until the last moment, when she would +tell her that Don Luis had asked her of his own accord at what hour he +might make a farewell visit, and that she had said ten.</p> + +<p>In order to avoid giving rise to talk, she determined that Don Luis +should not be seen to enter the house, and for this the hour and the +internal arrangement of the house itself were alike propitious. At ten +the street would be full of people, on account of the vigil, which would +make it easier for Don Luis to reach the house without being observed. +To enter the hall would be the work of a moment, and Antoñona, who would +be waiting for him, could then take him to the library without any one +seeing him.</p> + +<p>All, or at least the greater part, of the handsome country-houses of +Andalusia are in construction double rather than single houses. Each +house, of these double houses, has its own door. The principal door +leads to the court-yard, which is pared and surrounded by columns, to +the parlors and the other apartments of the family; the other to the +inner yards, the stable and coach-house, the kitchens, the mill, the +wine-press, the granaries, the buildings where are kept the oil, the +must, the alcohol, the brandy and the vinegar, in large jars; and the +cask stores, or cellars, where the newly made wine, and that which has +been long kept, is stored in pipes or barrels. This second house, or +portion of a house, although it may be situated in the heart of a town +of twenty or twenty-five thousand inhabitants, is called <i>farm-house</i>. +The overseer, the foreman, the muleteer, the principal workmen, and the +domestics who have been longest in the service of the master, are +accustomed to gather here in the evenings, during the winter, around the +enormous fireplace of a spacious kitchen, and in summer in the open air, +or in some cool and well-ventilated apartment, and there chat or take +their ease until the master's family are about to retire.</p> + +<p>Antoñona was of opinion that the colloquy or explanation, which she +desired should take place between her mistress and Don Luis required +tranquillity, and should be interrupted by no one; and she therefore +determined that, as it was St. John's eve, the maid-servants of Pepita +should be to-night released from all their occupations, and should go to +amuse themselves at the farm-house, where, in union with the rustic +laborers, they might get up impromptu amusements, to consist of +fandangos, the recitation of pretty verses, playing the castanets, jigs, +and country-dances.</p> + +<p>In this manner the dwelling-house—without other occupants than Pepita +and herself—would be silent and almost deserted, and suited to the +solemnity and undisturbed quiet desirable in the interview she had +planned, and on which perhaps—or rather to a certainty—depended the +fate of two persons of such distinguished merit.</p> + +<p class="top5">While Antoñona went about turning over and arranging in her mind all +these things, Don Luis had no sooner been left alone than he regretted +having proceeded with so much haste, and weakly consenting to the +interview Antoñona had asked of him. As he reflected upon it, it seemed +to him more full of peril than those of Oenone or Celestina. He saw +before him all the danger to which he voluntarily exposed himself, and +he could see no advantage whatever in thus making in secret, and by +stealth, a visit to the beautiful widow.</p> + +<p>To go and see her in order to succumb to her attractions and fall into +her snares, making a mockery of his vows, and placing not only the +bishop, who had indorsed his petition for a dispensation, but even the +holy Pontiff, who had conceded it, in a false position, by relinquishing +his purpose of becoming a priest, seemed to him very dishonorable. It +was, besides, a treason against his father, who loved Pepita and desired +to marry her; and to visit her in order to undeceive her in regard to +his love for her, seemed to him a greater refinement of cruelty than to +depart without saying anything.</p> + +<p>Influenced by these considerations, the first thought of Don Luis was to +fail, without excuse or warning, to keep his appointment, and leave +Antoñona to wait in vain for him in the hall; but then, as Antoñona had, +in all probability, already announced his visit to her mistress, he +would, by failing to go, unpardonably offend, not only Antoñona, but +Pepita herself.</p> + +<p>He then resolved on writing Pepita a very affectionate and discreet +letter, excusing himself from going to see her, justifying his conduct, +consoling her, manifesting his tender sentiments toward her, while +letting her see that duty and Heaven were before everything, and +endeavoring to inspire her with the courage to make the same sacrifice +as he himself was making.</p> + +<p>He made four or five different attempts to write this letter. He blotted +a great deal of paper which he afterward tore up, and could not, in the +end, succeed in getting the letter to his taste. Now it was dry, cold, +pedantic, like a poor sermon or a school-master's discourse; now its +contents betrayed a childish apprehension, as if Pepita were a monster +lying in wait to devour him; now it had other faults not less serious. +In fine, after wasting many sheets of paper in the attempt, the letter +remained unwritten.</p> + +<p>"There is no help for it," said Don Luis to himself; "the die is cast. I +must only summon courage and go."</p> + +<p>He comforted his spirit with the hope that his self-control would not +forsake him during the coming interview; and that God would endow his +lips with eloquence to persuade Pepita, who was so good, that it was she +herself who, sacrificing her earthly love, urged him to fulfill his +vocation, resembling in this those holy women of whom there are not +wanting examples, who not only renounced the society of a bridegroom or +a lover, but even the companionship of a husband, as is narrated, for +instance, in the life of St. Edward, of England, whose queen lived with +him as a sister.</p> + +<p>Don Luis felt himself consoled and encouraged by this thought, and he +already pictured himself as St. Edward, and Pepita as Queen Edith. And +under the form and in the character of this virgin queen, Pepita +appeared to him, if possible, more graceful, charming, and romantic +than ever.</p> + +<p>Don Luis was not, however, altogether so secure of himself, or so +tranquil, as he should have been, after forming the resolution of +following the example of St. Edward. There seemed to him something +almost criminal, which he could not well define, in the visit he was +about to make to Pepita without his father's knowledge. He felt tempted +to awaken him from his <i>siesta</i>, and to reveal everything to him; two or +three times he rose from his chair with this purpose; then he stopped, +feeling that such a revelation would be dishonoring, and a disgraceful +exhibition of childishness. He might betray his own secrets, but to +betray those of Pepita in order to set himself right with his father, +seemed to him contemptible enough. The baseness and the ridiculous +meanness of the action were still further increased in his eyes by the +reflection that what prompted him to it was the fear of not being strong +enough to resist temptation.</p> + +<p>Don Luis kept silence, therefore, and revealed nothing to his father.</p> + +<p>More than this, he did not even feel that he had the confidence and +composure necessary to present himself before his father, with the +consciousness of this secret interview interposing itself as a barrier +between them. He was indeed so excited and so beside himself, under the +influence of the contending emotions that disputed the possession of his +soul, that he felt as if the room, though a large one, was too small to +contain him. Starting to his feet, he paced with rapid strides up and +down the floor, like some wild animal in his cage, impatient of +confinement. At last, although—being summer—the window was open, he +felt as if he could remain here no longer, lest he should suffocate for +want of air; as if the roof pressed down upon his head; as if, to +breathe, he needed the whole atmosphere; to walk, he required space +without limits; to lift up his brow, and exhale his sighs, and elevate +his thoughts, to have nothing less than the immeasurable vault of heaven +above him.</p> + +<p>Impelled by this necessity, he took his hat and cane and went out into +the street. Thence, avoiding every one he knew, he passed on into the +country, plunging into the leafiest and most sequestered recesses of the +gardens and walks that encompass the village, and make, for a radius of +more than half a league, a paradise of its surroundings.</p> + +<p>We have said but little, thus far, concerning the personal appearance of +Don Luis. Be it known, then, that he was in every sense of the word a +handsome fellow—tall, well formed, with black hair, and eyes also black +and full of fire and sweetness. His complexion was dark, his teeth were +white, his lips delicate and curling slightly, which gave to his +countenance an appearance of disdain; his bearing was manly and bold, +notwithstanding the reserve and meekness proper to his sacred character. +The whole mien of Don Luis bore, in a word, that indescribable stamp of +distinction and nobility that seems to be—though this is not always the +case—the peculiar quality and exclusive privilege of aristocratic +families.</p> + +<p>On beholding Don Luis one could not but confess that Pepita Ximenez was +aesthetic by instinct.</p> + +<p>Don Luis hurried on with precipitate steps in the course he had taken, +jumping across brooks and hardly glancing at surrounding objects, almost +as a bull stung by a hornet might do. The countrymen he met, the +market-gardeners who saw him pass, very possibly took him for a madman.</p> + +<p>Tired at last of walking on aimlessly, he sat down at the foot of a +stone cross near the ruins of an ancient convent of St. Francis de Paul, +almost two miles from the village, and there plunged anew into +meditation, but of so confused a character that he himself was scarcely +conscious of what was passing in his mind.</p> + +<p>The sound of the distant bells, calling the faithful to prayer and +reminding them of the salutation of the angel to the Most Holy Virgin, +reaching these solitudes through the rarefied atmosphere, drew Don Luis +at last from his meditations, and made him once more conscious of the +world of reality.</p> + +<p>The sun had just sunk behind the gigantic peaks of the neighboring +mountains, making their summits—in the shape of pyramids, needles, and +broken obelisks—stand out in bold relief against a background of topaz +and amethyst—for such was the appearance of the heavens, gilded by the +beams of the setting sun. The shadows began to deepen over the plain, +and, on the mountains opposite to those behind which the sun was +sinking, the more elevated peaks shone like flaming gold or crystal.</p> + +<p>The windows and the white walls of the distant sanctuary of the Virgin, +patroness of the village, which is situated on the summit of a distant +hill, as well as those of another small temple or hermitage, situated on +a nearer hill called Calvary, still shone like two beacon-lights, +touched by the oblique rays of the setting sun.</p> + +<p>Nature exhaled a poetic melancholy, and all things seemed to intone a +hymn to the Creator, with that silent music heard only by the spirit. +The low sound of the bells, softened and almost lost in the distance, +hardly disturbed the repose of the earth, and invited to prayer, without +distracting the senses by their noise. Don Luis uncovered his head, +knelt down at the foot of the cross, the pedestal of which had served +him as a seat, and repeated with profound devotion the <i>Angelus Domini</i>.</p> + +<p>The shades of evening were gathering fast; but when Night unfolds her +mantle, and spreads it over those favored regions, she delights to adorn +it with the most luminous stars, and with a still brighter moon. The +vault of heaven did not exchange its cerulean hue for the blackness of +night; it still retained it, though it had assumed a deeper shade. The +atmosphere was so clear and pure that myriads of stars could be descried +shining far into the limitless depths of space. The moon silvered the +tops of the trees, and touched with its splendor the waters of the +brooks that gleamed, luminous and transparent, with colors as changeful +and iridescent as the opal. In the leafy groves the nightingales were +singing. Herbs and flowers shed a rich perfume. Countless multitudes of +glow-worms shone like diamonds or carbuncles among the grass and wild +flowers along the banks of the brooks. In this region the winged +glow-worm is not found, but another and smaller species abounds, and +sheds a most brilliant light. Fruit-trees still in blossom, acacias and +roses without number, perfumed the air with their rich fragrance.</p> + +<p>Don Luis felt himself swayed, seduced, vanquished, by this +voluptuousness of nature, and began to doubt himself. It was necessary, +however, to fulfill his promise and keep his appointment.</p> + +<p>Deviating often from the straight path, hesitating at times whether he +should not rather push forward to the source of the river, where, at the +foot of a mountain and in the midst of the most enchanting surroundings, +the crystal torrent that waters the neighboring gardens and orchards +bursts from the living rock, he turned back, with slow and lingering +step, in the direction of the village.</p> + +<p>In proportion as he approached the village, the terror inspired by the +thought of what he was about to do increased. He plunged into the +thickest of the wood, hoping there to behold some wonder, some sign, +some warning, that should draw him back. He thought often of the student +Lisardo, and wished that, like him, he might behold his own burial. But +heaven smiled with her thousand lights, and invited to love; the stars +looked at each other with love; the nightingales sang of love; even the +crickets amorously vibrated their sonorous elytra, as troubadours the +plectrum, in a serenade; all the earth on this tranquil and beautiful +night seemed given up to love. There was no warning; there was no sign; +there was no funeral pomp; all was life, peace, joy.</p> + +<p>Where was now his guardian angel? Had he abandoned Don Luis as already +lost, or, deeming that he ran no risk, did he make no effort to turn him +from his purpose? Who can say? Perhaps from the danger that menaced him +would, in the end, result a triumph. St. Edward and Queen Edith +presented themselves again to the imagination of Don Luis, and +strengthened his resolution.</p> + +<p>Engrossed in these meditations, he delayed his return, and was still +some distance from the village when ten, the hour appointed for his +interview with Pepita, struck from the parish clock. The ten strokes of +the bell were ten blows that, falling on his heart, wounded it as with a +physical pain—a pain in which dread and treacherous disquiet were +blended with a ravishing sweetness.</p> + +<p>Don Luis hastened his steps that he might reach Pepita's house as soon +after the appointed hour as was now possible, and shortly found himself +in the village.</p> + +<p>The village presented a most animated scene. Young girls flocked to wash +their faces at the fountain on the common—those who had sweethearts, +that their sweethearts might remain faithful to them; and those who had +not, that they might obtain sweethearts. Here and there women and +children were returning from the fields, with verbena, branches of +rosemary, and other plants, which they had been gathering, to burn as a +charm. Guitars tinkled on every side, words of love were to be +overheard, and everywhere happy and tender couples were to be seen +walking together. The vigil and the early morning of St. John's day, +although a Christian festival, still retain a certain savor of paganism +and primitive naturalism. This may be because of the approximate +concurrence of this festival and the summer solstice. In any case, the +scene to-night was of a purely mundane character, without any religious +mixture whatever. All was love and gallantry. In our old romances and +legends the Moor always carries off the beautiful Christian princess, +and the Christian knight receives the reward of his devotion to the +Moorish princess, on the eve or in the early morning of St. John's day; +and the traditionary custom of the old romances had been, to all +appearances, preserved in the village.</p> + +<p>The streets were full of people. The whole village was out of doors, in +addition to the strangers from the surrounding country. Progress, thus +rendered extremely difficult, was still further impeded by the multitude +of little tables laden with <i>nougat</i>, honey-cakes, and toast, +fruit-stalls, booths for the sale of dolls and toys, and cake-shops, +where gypsies, young and old, by turns fried the dough, tainting the air +with the odor of oil, weighed and served the cakes, responded with +ready wit to the compliments of the gallants who passed by, and told +fortunes.</p> + +<p>Don Luis sought to avoid meeting any of his acquaintances, and, when he +caught sight by chance of any one he knew, he turned his steps in +another direction. Thus, by degrees, he reached the entrance to Pepita's +house without having been stopped or spoken to by any one. His heart now +began to beat with violence, and he paused a moment to recover his +serenity. He looked at his watch; it was almost half-past ten.</p> + +<p>"Good heavens!" he exclaimed; "she has been waiting for me nearly half +an hour."</p> + +<p>He then hurried his pace and entered the hall. The lamp by which it was +always lighted was burning dimly on this particular evening.</p> + +<p>No sooner had Don Luis entered the hall than a hand, or rather a talon, +seized him by the right arm. It belonged to Antoñona, who said to him +under her breath:</p> + +<p>"A pretty fellow you are, for a collegian! Ingrate! good-for-nothing! +vagabond! I began to think you were not coming. Where have you been, +imbecile? How dare you delay, as if you had no interest in the matter, +when the salt of the earth is melting for you, and the sum of beauty +awaits you?"</p> + +<p>While Antoñona was giving utterance to these complaints, she did not +stand still, but continued to go forward, dragging after her by the arm +the now cowed and silent collegian. They passed the grated door, which +Antoñona closed carefully and noiselessly behind them. They crossed the +court-yard, ascended the stairs, passed through some corridors and two +interjacent apartments, and arrived at last at the door of the library, +which was closed.</p> + +<p>Profound silence reigned throughout the house. The library was situated +in its interior, and was thus inaccessible to the noises of the street. +The only sounds that reached it, confused and vague, were the shaking of +the castanets, the tinkle of the guitar, and the murmur of the voices of +Pepita's servants, who were holding their impromptu dance in the +farm-house.</p> + +<p>Antoñona opened the door of the library and pushed Don Luis toward it, +at the same time announcing him in these words:</p> + +<p>"Here is Don Luis, who has come to take leave of you."</p> + +<p>This announcement being made with due ceremony, the discreet Antoñona +withdrew, leaving the visitor and her mistress at their ease, and +closing behind her the door of the outer saloon.</p> + +<p class="top5">At this point in our narrative we can not refrain from calling attention +to the character of authenticity that stamps the present history, and +paying a tribute of admiration to the scrupulous exactness of the person +who composed it. For, were the incidents related in these <i>paralipomena</i> +fictitious, as in a novel, there is nor the least doubt but that an +interview so important and of such transcendent interest as that of +Pepita and Don Luis would have been brought about by less vulgar means +than those here employed. Perhaps our hero and heroine, in the course of +some new excursion into the country, might have been surprised by a +sudden and frightful tempest, thus finding themselves obliged to take +refuge in the ruins of some ancient castle or Moorish tower, with the +reputation, of course, of being haunted by ghosts or other supernatural +visitants. Perhaps our hero and heroine might have fallen into the power +of a party of bandits, from whom they would have escaped, thanks to the +presence of mind and courage of Don Luis; taking shelter afterward for +the night—they two alone, and without the possibility of avoiding +it—in a cavern or grotto. Or, finally, perhaps the author would have +arranged the matter in such a way as that Pepita and her vacillating +admirer would have been obliged to make a journey by sea, and, although +at the present day there are neither pirates nor Algerine corsairs, it +is not difficult to invent a good shipwreck, during which Don Luis +could have saved Pepita's life, taking refuge with her afterward on a +desert island, or some other equally romantic and solitary place. Any +one of these devices would more artfully prepare the way for the tender +colloquy of the lovers, and would better serve to exculpate Don Luis. We +are of the opinion, nevertheless, that, instead of censuring the author +for not having had recourse to such complications as those we have +mentioned, we ought rather to thank him for his conscientiousness in +sacrificing to the truth of his relation the marvelous effect he might +have produced, had he ventured to ornament and adorn it with incidents +and episodes drawn from his own fancy.</p> + +<p>If the means by which this interview was brought about were, in reality, +only the officiousness and the skill of Antoñona, and the weakness with +which Don Luis acceded to her request that he should grant it, why forge +lies, and cause the two lovers to be impelled, as it were, by Fate, to +see and speak with each other alone, to the great danger of the virtue +and honor of both? There was nothing of this. Whether Don Luis did well +or ill in keeping his appointment, and whether Pepita Ximenez, whom +Antoñona had already told that Don Luis was coming of his own accord to +see her, did well or ill in rejoicing over that somewhat mysterious and +inopportune visit, let us not throw the blame on Fate, but on the +personages themselves who figure in this history, and on the passions +by which they are actuated. We confess to a great affection for Pepita; +but the truth is before everything, and must be declared, even should it +be to the prejudice of our heroine.</p> + +<p>At eight o'clock, then, Antoñona had told her that Don Luis was coming, +and Pepita, who had been talking of dying, whose eyes were red, whose +eyelids were slightly inflamed with weeping, and whose hair was in some +disorder, thought of nothing, thereafter, but of adorning and arranging +herself for the purpose of receiving Don Luis. She bathed her face with +warm water, so that the ravages her tears had made might be effaced to +the exact point of leaving her beauty unimpaired, while still allowing +it to be seen that she had wept. She arranged her hair, so as to +display, rather than a studied care in its arrangement, a certain +graceful and artistic carelessness, that fell short of disorder, +however, which would have been indecorous; she polished her nails, and, +as it was not fit that she should receive Don Luis in a wrapper, she put +on a simple house-dress. In fine, she managed instinctively that all the +details of her toilet should concur in heightening her beauty and grace, +but without allowing any trace to be perceived of the art, the labor, +and the time employed in the details. She would have it appear, on the +contrary, as if all this beauty and grace were the free gift of nature, +something inherent in her person, no matter how she might, owing to the +vehemence of her passions, neglect it on occasion.</p> + +<p>Pepita, so far as we have been able to discover, spent more than an hour +in these labors of the toilet, which were to be perceived only by their +results. She then, with ill-concealed satisfaction, gave herself the +final touch before the looking-glass. At last, at about half-past nine, +taking a candle in her hand, she descended to the apartment, in which +was the <i>Infant Jesus</i>. She first lighted the altar-candles which had +been extinguished; she saw with something of sorrow that the flowers +were drooping; she asked pardon of the sacred Image for neglecting it so +long, and, throwing herself on her knees before it, prayed in her +solitude with her whole heart, and with that frankness and confidence +that a guest inspires who has been so long an inmate of the house. Of a +<i>Jesus of Nazareth</i> bearing the cross upon his shoulders, and crowned +with thorns; of an <i>Ecce Homo</i>, insulted and scourged, with a reed for +derisive scepter, and his hands bound with a rough cord; of a <i>Christ +crucified</i>, bleeding and moribund, Pepita would not have dared to ask +what she now asked of a Saviour, still a child, smiling, beautiful, +untouched by suffering, and pleasing to the eye. Pepita asked him to +leave her Don Luis; not to take him away from her, since he, who was so +rich and so well provided with everything, might, without any great +sacrifice, deny himself this one of his servants, and give him up to +her.</p> + +<p>Having completed these preparations, which we may classify as cosmetic, +indumentary, and religious, Pepita installed herself in the library, and +there awaited the arrival of Don Luis with feverish impatience.</p> + +<p>Antoñona had acted with prudence in not telling her mistress that Don +Luis was coming to see her until a short time before the appointed hour. +Even as it was, thanks to the delay of the gallant, poor Pepita, from +the moment in which she had finished her prayers and supplications to +the <i>Infant Jesus</i>, to that in which she beheld Don Luis standing in the +library, was a prey to anguish and disquietude.</p> + +<p>The visit began in the most grave and ceremonious manner. The customary +salutations were mechanically interchanged, and Don Luis, at the +invitation of Pepita, seated himself in an easy-chair, without laying +aside his hat or cane, and at a short distance from her. Pepita was +seated on the sofa; beside her was a little table on which were some +books, and a candle, the light from which illuminated her countenance. +On the desk also burned a lamp. Notwithstanding these two lights, +however, the apartment, which was large, remained for the greater part +in obscurity. A large window, which looked out on an inner garden, was +open on account of the heat; and although the grating of the window was +covered with climbing roses and jasmine, the clear beams of the moon +penetrated through the interlaced leaves and flowers, and struggled with +the light of the lamp and candle. Through the open window came, too, the +distant and confused sounds of the dance at the farm-house, which was at +the other extremity of the garden, the monotonous murmur of the fountain +below, and the fragrance of the jasmine and roses that curtained the +window, mingled with that of the mignonette, sweet-basil, and other +plants that adorned the borders beneath.</p> + +<p>There was a long pause—a silence as difficult to maintain as it was to +break. Neither of the two interlocutors ventured to speak. The situation +was, in truth, embarrassing. They found it as difficult to express +themselves then, as we find it now to reproduce their words; but there +is nothing else for it than to make the effort. Let us allow them to +speak for themselves, transcribing their words with exactitude.</p> + +<p class="top5">"So you have finally condescended to come and take leave of me before +your departure," said Pepita; "I had already given up the hope that you +would do so."</p> + +<p>The part Don Luis had to perform was a serious one; and, besides this, +in this kind of dialogue, the man, not only if he be a novice, but even +when he is old in the business and an expert, is apt to begin with some +piece of folly. Let us not condemn Don Luis, therefore, because he also +began unwisely.</p> + +<p>"Your complaint is unjust," he said. "I came here with my father to take +leave of you, and, as we had not the pleasure of being received by you, +we left cards. We were told that your health was somewhat delicate, and +we have sent every day since to inquire for you. We were greatly pleased +to learn that you were improving. I hope you are now much better."</p> + +<p>"I am almost tempted to say I am no better," answered Pepita, "but, as I +see that you have come as the embassador of your father, and I do not +want to distress so excellent a friend, it is but right that I should +tell you, that you may repeat it to him, that I am much better now. But +it is strange that you have come alone. Don Pedro must be very much +occupied indeed, not to accompany you."</p> + +<p>"My father did not accompany me, madam, because he does not know that I +have come to see you. I have chosen to come without him because my +farewell must be a serious, a solemn, perhaps a final one, and his will +naturally be of a very different character. My father will return to +the village in a few weeks; it is possible that I may never return to +it, and, if I do, it will be in a very different character from my +present one."</p> + +<p>Pepita could not restrain herself. The happy future of which she had +dreamed vanished, at the words of Don Luis, into air. Her unalterable +resolution to vanquish, at whatever cost, this man, the only one she had +loved in her life, the only one she felt herself capable of loving, +seemed to have been made in vain. She felt herself condemned at twenty +years of age, with all her beauty, to perpetual widowhood, to solitude, +to an unrequited love—for any other love was impossible for her. The +character of Pepita, in whom obstacles only strengthened and kindled +afresh her desires, with whom a determination, once taken, carried +everything before it until it was fulfilled, showed itself now in all +its violence and without restraint. She must conquer, or die in the +attempt. Social considerations, the fixed habit of guarding and +concealing the feelings, acquired in the great world, which serve as a +restraint to the paroxysms of passion, and which veil in ambiguous +phrases, and dilute in circumlocutions, the most violent explosion of +undisciplined emotion, had no power with Pepita. She had had but little +intercourse with the world, she knew no middle way; her only rule of +conduct hitherto had been to obey blindly her mother and her husband +while they lived, and afterward to command despotically every other +human being. Thus it was that Pepita spoke her own thoughts on this +occasion, and showed herself such as she really was. Her soul, with all +the passion it contained, took sensible form in her words; and her +words, instead of serving to conceal her thoughts and her feelings, gave +them substance. She did not speak as a lady of our <i>salons</i> would have +spoken, with circumlocutions and attenuations of expression, but with +that idyllic frankness with which Chloe spoke to Daphnis, and with the +humility and the complete self-abandonment with which the +daughter-in-law of Naomi offered herself to Boaz.</p> + +<p>"Do you then persist in your purpose?" she asked. "Are you sure of your +vocation? Are you not afraid of being a bad priest? Don Luis, I am going +to make a supreme effort. I am going to forget that I am an uncultured +girl; I am going to dispense with all sentiment, and to reason as coldly +as if it were concerning the matter most indifferent to me. Things have +taken place that may be explained in two ways; both explanations do you +discredit. I will show you what my thoughts are. If the woman who, with +her coquetries—not very daring ones, in truth—almost without a word, +and but a few days after seeing and speaking to you for the first time, +has been able to provoke you, to move you to look at her with glances +that betokened a profane love, and has even obtained from you a proof of +that love that would be a fault, a sin, in any one, but is so especially +in a priest—if this woman be, as she indeed is, a simple country-girl, +without education, without talent, and without elegance, what is not to +be feared of you when in great cities you see and converse with other +women a thousand times more dangerous? Your head will be turned when you +are thrown into the society of the great ladies who dwell in palaces, +who tread on soft carpets, who dazzle the eye with their diamonds and +pearls, who are clad in silks and laces instead of muslin and percale, +who leave bare the white and well-formed throat instead of covering it +with a plebeian and modest handkerchief, who are adepts in all the arts +of coquetry, and who, by reason of the very ostentation, luxury, and +pomp that surround them, are all the more desirable for being apparently +more inaccessible; who discuss politics, philosophy, religion, and +literature; who sing like canaries, who are enveloped, as it were, in +clouds of incense, adoration and homage, set upon a pedestal of triumphs +and of victories, glorified by the prestige of an illustrious name, +enthroned in gilded saloons, or secluded in voluptuous boudoirs, where +enter only the blest ones of the earth, its titled ones, perhaps, who +only to their most intimate friends are "Pepita," "Antoñita," or +"Angelita," and to the rest of the world, "Her Grace the Duchess," or +"the Marchioness." If you have yielded to the arts of an uncultured +peasant when you were on the eve of being ordained, and in spite of all +the enthusiasm for your calling that you may naturally be supposed to +entertain—if you have thus yielded, urged by a passing impulse, am I +not right in foreseeing that you will make an abominable priest, impure, +worldly, and of evil influence, and that you will yield to temptation at +every step? On such a supposition as this, believe me, Don Luis—and do +not be offended with me for saying so—you are not even worthy to be the +husband of an honest woman. If, with all the ardor and tenderness of the +most passionate lover, you have pressed the hand of a woman, if you have +looked at one, with glances that foretold a heaven, an eternity of love, +if you have kissed a woman that inspired you with no other feeling than +one that for me has no name, then go, in God's name, and do not marry +her! If she is virtuous, she will not desire you for a husband, nor even +for a lover; but, for God's sake, do not become a priest either! The +Church needs men more serious, more capable of resisting temptation, as +ministers of the Most High.</p> + +<p>"If, on the other hand, you have felt a noble passion for the woman of +whom we are speaking, although she be of little worth, why abandon and +deceive her with so much cruelty? However unworthy she may be, if she +has inspired this great passion, do you not suppose that she will share +it, and be the victim of it? For, when a love is great, elevated, and +passionate, does it ever fail to make its power felt? Does it not +tyrannize over and subjugate the beloved object irresistibly? By the +extent of your love for her you may measure that of her you love. And +how can you avoid fearing for her, if you abandon her? Has she the +masculine energy, the firmness of character produced by the wisdom +learned from books, the attraction of fame, the multitude of splendid +projects, and all the resources of your cultured and exalted intellect, +to distract her mind, and turn her away, without destructive violence, +from every other earthly affection? Can you not see that she will die of +grief, and that you, called by your destiny to offer up bloodless +sacrifices, will begin by pitilessly sacrificing her who most loves +you?"</p> + +<p>"I too, madam," returned Don Luis, endeavoring to conquer his emotion, +and to speak with firmness—"I too, madam, am obliged to make a great +effort in order to answer you with the calmness necessary to one who +opposes argument to argument, as in a controversy; but your accusation +is supported by so many reasons, and you have invested those +reasons—pardon me for saying so—with so specious an appearance of +truth, that I have no choice left me but to disprove them by other +reasons. I had no thought of being placed in the necessity of +maintaining a discussion here, and of sharpening my poor wits for that +purpose; but you compel me to do so, unless I wish to pass for a +monster. I am going to reply to the two extremes of the cruel dilemma in +which you have placed me. Though it is true that my youth was passed in +my uncle's house and in the seminary, where I saw nothing of women, do +not therefore think me so ignorant, or possessed of so little +imagination, that I can not picture to myself how lovely, how seductive +they may be. My imagination, on the contrary, went far beyond the +reality. Excited by the reading of the sacred writers and of profane +poets, it pictured women more charming, more graceful, more intelligent, +than they are commonly to be found in real life. I knew then, and I even +exaggerated to myself, the cost of the sacrifice I was making, when I +renounced the love of those women for the purpose of elevating myself to +the dignity of the priesthood. I know well how much the charms of a +beautiful woman are enhanced by rich attire, by splendid jewels, by +being surrounded with all the arts of refined civilization, all the +objects of luxury produced by the indefatigable labor and the skill of +man. I knew well, too, how much the natural cleverness of a woman is +increased, how much her natural intelligence is sharpened, quickened, +and brightened by intercourse with scientific men, by the reading of +good books, even by the familiar spectacle of the wealth and splendor of +great cities, and of the monuments of the past that they contain. All +this I pictured to myself with so much vividness, my fancy painted it in +such glowing colors, that you need have no doubt that, should I be +thrown into the society of those women of whom you speak, far from +feeling the adoration and the transports you prophesy, I shall rather +experience a disenchantment on seeing how great a distance there is +between what I dreamed of and the truth, between the living reality and +the picture of it that my fancy drew."</p> + +<p>"This is indeed specious reasoning," exclaimed Pepita. "How can I deny +that what you have pictured in your imagination is, in truth, more +beautiful than what exists in reality? but who will deny, either, that +the real possesses a more seductive charm than that which exists only in +the imagination? The vagueness and etherealness of a phantasm, however +beautiful it may be, can not compete with what is palpable and visible +to the senses. I can understand that holy images might exercise a more +powerful influence over your spirit than the pictures of mundane beauty +created by your fancy, but I fear that those holy images will not prove +equally powerful where mundane realities are concerned."</p> + +<p>"Have no such fear, madam," returned Don Luis. "My fancy possesses, by +its own creations, more power over my spirit than does the whole +universe—only excepting yourself—by what it transmits to it through +the senses."</p> + +<p>"And why except me? Such an exception gives room to the suspicion that +the idea you have of me, the idea which you love, may be but the +creation of this potent fancy of yours, and an illusion that resembles +me in nothing."</p> + +<p>"No, this is not the case. You may be assured that this idea resembles +you in everything. It may be that it is innate in my soul, that it has +existed in it since it was created by God, that it is a part of its +essence, the best and purest part of its being, as the perfume is of the +flower."</p> + +<p>"This is what I had feared, and now you confess it to me. You do not +love me. What you love is the essence, the fragrance, the purest part of +your own soul, that has assumed a form resembling mine."</p> + +<p>"No, Pepita; do not seek to amuse yourself in tormenting me. What I love +is you—and you such as you really are; but what I love is also so +beautiful, so pure, so delicate that I can not understand how it should +have reached my mind, in a material manner, through the senses. I take +it for granted, then, and it is my firm belief, that it must have had an +innate existence there. It is like the idea of God that is inborn in my +soul, that has unfolded and developed itself within my soul, and that +has, nevertheless, its counterpart in reality, superior, infinitely +superior to the idea. As I believe that God exists, so do I believe that +you exist, and that you are a thousand times superior to the idea that I +have formed of you."</p> + +<p>"Still, I have a doubt left. May it not be woman in general, and not I, +solely and exclusively, that has awakened this idea?"</p> + +<p>"No, Pepita; before I saw you, I had felt in imagination what might be +the magic power, the fascination of a woman, beautiful of soul and +graceful in person. There is no duchess or marchioness in Madrid, no +empress in all the world, no queen or princess on the face of the globe, +to be compared to the ideals and fantastic creations with whom I have +lived. These were inhabitants of the castles and boudoirs, marvels of +luxury and taste, that I pleased myself in boyhood by erecting in my +fancy, and that I afterward gave as dwelling-places to my Lauras, +Beatrices, Juliets, Marguerites, and Leonoras; to my Cynthias, Glyceras, +and Lesbias. Them I crowned in my imagination with coronets and Oriental +diadems; I clothed them in mantles of purple and gold, and surrounded +them with regal pomp like Esther and Vashti; I endowed them, like +Rebekah and the Shulamite, with the bucolic simplicity of the +patriarchal age; I bestowed on them the sweet humility and the devotion +of Ruth; I listened to them discoursing like Aspasia, or Hypatia, +mistresses of eloquence; I enthroned them in luxurious drawing-rooms, +and cast over them the splendor of noble blood and illustrious lineage, +as if they had been the proudest and noblest of patrician maidens of +ancient Rome; I beheld them graceful, coquettish, gay, full of +aristocratic ease and manner, like the ladies of the time of Louis XIV, +in Versailles; and I adorned them, now with the modest <i>stola</i>, that +inspired veneration and respect; now with diaphanous tunics and +<i>peplums</i>, through whose airy folds were revealed all the plastic +perfections of their graceful forms; now with the transparent <i>coa</i>, of +the beautiful courtesans of Athens and Corinth, showing the white and +roseate hues of the finely molded forms that glowed beneath their +vaporous covering. But what are the joys of the senses, what the glory +and magnificence of the world, to a soul that burns with and consumes +itself in Divine love, as I believed mine, perhaps with too much +arrogance, to burn and consume itself? As volcanic fires, when they +burst into flame, send flying into air, shattered in a thousand +fragments, the solid rocks, the mountain-side itself, that obstruct +their passage, so, or with even greater force, did my spirit cast from +itself the whole weight of the universe and of created beauty that lay +upon it and imprisoned it, preventing it from soaring up to God, as the +center of its aspirations. No; I have rejected no delight, no sweetness, +no glory, through ignorance. I knew them all, and valued them all at +more than their worth, when I rejected them all for a greater delight, a +greater sweetness, a greater glory. The profane love of woman presented +itself to my fancy, clothed, not only with all its own charms, but with +the sovereign and almost irresistible charms of the most dangerous of +all temptations—of that which the moralists call virginal +temptation—when the mind, not yet undeceived by experience and by sin, +pictures to itself in the transports of love a supreme and ineffable +delight immeasurably superior to all reality. Ever since I reached +manhood—that is to say, for many years past, for my youth was short—I +have scorned those delights and that beauty that were but the shadow and +the reflex of the archetypal beauty of which I was enamored, of the +supreme delight for which I longed. I have sought to die to myself, in +order to live in the beloved object, to free, not only my senses, but +even my soul itself, from every earthly affection, from illusions and +imaginings, in order to be able to say with truth that it is not I who +live, but Christ who lives in me. It may be, nay, it must be, that in +this I sinned through arrogance and self-confidence, and that God has +therefore wished to chastise me; and you came across my path, and +tempted me, and led me astray. Now you upbraid me, you deride me, you +accuse me of levity and of yielding easily to temptation; but in +upbraiding me and deriding me you insult yourself, for you thus imply +that any other woman might have had equal power over me. I do not wish, +when I ought to be humble, to fall into the sin of pride, by trying to +justify my fault. If God, in chastisement of my pride, has let me fall +from his grace, it is possible that any temptation, however slight, +might have made me waver and fall. Yet I confess that I do not think so. +It may be that I err in my judgment that this is but the consequence of +my undisciplined pride, but, I repeat, I do not think so. I can not +succeed in persuading myself that the cause of my fall had in it +anything either mean or base. Above all the dreams of my youthful +imagination, the reality, such as I beheld it in you, enthroned itself. +Above all the nymphs, queens, and goddesses of my fancy, you towered. +Above the ruins of my ideal creations, overthrown and shattered by +Divine love, there arose in my soul the faithful image, the exact +reproduction of the living beauty that adorns, that is the essence of +that body and of that soul. There may be even something mysterious, +something supernatural in this; for I loved you from the moment I first +saw you—almost before I saw you. Long before I was conscious of loving +you, I loved you. It would seem as if there were some fatality in +this—that it was decreed, that it was a predestination."</p> + +<p>"And if it were predestined, if it be decreed," said Pepita, "why not +submit to Fate, why still resist? Sacrifice your purpose to our love. +Have not I sacrificed much? Am I not now sacrificing my pride, my +decorum, my reserve, in supplicating you thus, in making this effort to +overcome your scorn? I too believe that I loved you before I saw you. +Now I love you with my whole heart, and without you there is no +happiness for me. It is true indeed that in my humble intelligence you +can find no rival so powerful as that which I have in yours. Neither +with the understanding, nor the will, nor the affections, can I raise +myself all at once up to God. Neither by nature nor by grace do I mount +or desire to mount up to such exalted spheres. My soul, nevertheless, is +full of religious devotion, and I know and love and adore God; but I +only behold his omnipotence and admire his goodness in the works that +have proceeded from his hands. Nor can I, with the imagination, weave +those visions that you tell me of. Yet I too dreamed of some one nobler, +more intelligent, more poetic, and more enamored, than the men who have +thus far sought my hand; of a lover more distinguished and accomplished +than any of my adorers of this and the neighboring villages, who should +love me, and whom I should love, and to whose will I should blindly +surrender mine. This some one was you. I had a presentiment of it when +they told me that you had arrived at the village. When I saw you for the +first time, I knew it. But, as my imagination is so sterile, the picture +I had formed of you in my mind was not to be compared, even in the most +remote degree, to the reality. I too have read something of romances and +poetry. But from all that my memory retained of them, I was unable to +form a picture that was not far inferior in merit to what I see and +divine in you since I have known you. Thus it is that from the moment I +saw you I was vanquished and undone. If love is, as you say, to die to +self, in order to live in the beloved object, then is my love genuine +and legitimate, for I have died to myself, and live only in you and for +you. I have tried to cast this love away from me, deeming it +ill-requited, and I have not been able to succeed in doing so. I have +prayed to God with fervor to take away from me this love, or else to +kill me, and God has not deigned to hear me. I have prayed to the +Virgin Mary to blot your image from my soul, and my prayer has been in +vain. I have made vows to my patron saint to the end that he would +enable me to think of you only as he thought of his blessed spouse, and +my patron saint has not succored me. Seeing all this, I have had the +audacity to ask of Heaven that you would allow yourself to be +vanquished, that you would cease to desire to be a priest, that there +might spring up in your soul a love as profound as that which is in my +heart. Don Luis, tell me frankly, has Heaven been deaf to this last +prayer also? Or is it, perchance, that to subjugate a soul as weak, as +wretched, and as petty as mine, a petty love is sufficient, while to +master yours, protected and guarded as it is by vigorous and lofty +thoughts, a more powerful love than mine is necessary, a love that I am +neither worthy of inspiring, nor capable of sharing, nor even able to +understand?"</p> + +<p>"Pepita," returned Don Luis, "it is not that your soul is less than +mine, but that it is free from obligations, and mine is not. The love +you have inspired me with is profound, but my obligations, my vows, the +purpose of my whole life so near to its realization, contend against it. +Why should I not say it without fearing to offend you? If you succeed in +making me love you, you do not humiliate yourself. If I succumb to your +love, I humiliate and abase myself. I leave the Creator for the +creature. I renounce the unwavering purpose of my life, I break the +image of Christ that was in my soul; and the new man, that I had created +in myself at such cost, disappears, that the old man may come to life +again. Instead of my lowering myself to the earth, to the impurity of +the world that I have hitherto despised, why do not you rather elevate +yourself to me by virtue of that very love you entertain for me, freeing +it from every earthly alloy? Why should we not love each other then +without shame, and without sin, and without dishonor? God penetrates +holy souls with the pure and refulgent fire of his love, and fills them +with it, so that, like a metal fresh from the forge, that, without +ceasing to be a metal, shines and glitters and is all fire, these souls +fill themselves with joy, and are in all things God, penetrated by God +in every part, through the grace of the Divine love. These souls then +love and enjoy each other, as if they loved and enjoyed God, loving and +enjoying him in truth, because they are God. Let us mount together in +spirit this steep and mystical ladder. Let our souls ascend, side by +side, to this bliss, which even in this mortal life is possible; but to +do this we must separate in the body; it is essential that I should go +whither I am called by my duty, my vow, and the voice of the Most High, +who disposes of his servant, and has destined him to the service of his +altar."</p> + +<p>"Ah, Don Luis," replied Pepita, full of sorrow and contrition, "now +indeed I see how vile is the metal I am made of, and how unworthy I am +that the Divine fire should penetrate and transform me. I will confess +everything, casting away even shame: I am a vile sinner; my rude and +uncultured understanding can not grasp these subtleties, these +distinctions, these refinements of love. My rebellious will refuses what +you propose. I can not even conceive of you but as yourself. For me you +are your mouth, your eyes, your dark locks that I desire to caress with +my hands, your sweet voice, the pleasing sound of your words that fall +upon my ears, and charm them through the senses; your whole bodily form, +in a word that charms and seduces me, and through which, and only +through which, I perceive the invisible spirit, vague and full of +mystery. My soul, stubborn, and incapable of these mysterious raptures, +will never be able to follow you to those regions whither you would take +it. If you soar up to them, I shall remain alone, abandoned, plunged in +the deepest affliction. I prefer to die; I deserve death; I desire it. +It may be that after death my soul, loosening or breaking the vile bonds +that chain it here, will be able to understand the love with which you +desire we should be united. Kill me, then, in order that we may thus +love each other; kill me, and then my spirit, set free, will follow you +whithersoever you may go, and will journey invisible by your side, +watching over your steps, contemplating you with ravishment, penetrating +your most secret thoughts, beholding your soul as it is, without the +intervention of the senses. But in this life it can not be. I love in +you, not only the soul, but the body, and the shadow cast by the body, +and the reflection of the body in the mirror and in the water, and the +Christian name, and the surname, and the blood, and all that goes to +make you such as you are, Don Luis de Vargas; the sound of your voice, +your gesture, your gait, and I know not what else besides. I repeat that +you must kill me. Kill me without compassion. No, I am not a Christian; +I am a material idolater."</p> + +<p>Here Pepita made a long pause. Don Luis knew not what to say, and was +silent. Tears bathed the cheeks of Pepita, who continued, sobbing:</p> + +<p>"I know it; you despise me, and you are right to despise me. With this +just contempt you will kill me more surely than with a dagger, and +without staining either your hands or your conscience with blood. +Farewell! I am about to free you from my odious presence. Farewell +forever!"</p> + +<p>Having said this, Pepita rose from her seat, and, without looking at Don +Luis, her face bathed with tears, beside herself, rushed toward the door +that led to the inner apartment. An unconquerable tenderness, a fatal +pity, took possession of Don Luis. He feared Pepita would die. He +started forward to detain her, but it was too late. Pepita had crossed +the threshold. Her form disappeared in the obscurity within. Don Luis, +impelled by a superhuman power, drawn as by an invisible hand, followed +her into the darkened chamber.</p> + +<p class="top5">The library remained deserted.</p> + +<p>The servants' dance must have already terminated, for the only sound to +be heard was the murmur of the fountain in the garden below.</p> + +<p>Not even a breath of wind troubled the stillness of the night and the +serenity of the air.</p> + +<p>The perfume of the flowers and the light of the moon entered softly +through the open window. After a long interval, Don Luis made his +appearance, emerging from the darkness. Terror was depicted on his +countenance, mingled with despair—such despair as Judas may have felt +after he had betrayed his master.</p> + +<p>He dropped into a chair and, burying his face in his hands, with his +elbows resting on his knees, he remained for more than half an hour +plunged in a sea of bitter reflections.</p> + +<p>To see him thus, one might have supposed that he had just assassinated +Pepita.</p> + +<p>Pepita, nevertheless, at last made her appearance. With slow step, with +an air of the deepest melancholy, with bent head, and glance directed to +the floor, she approached Don Luis and spoke.</p> + +<p>"Now, indeed," said she, "though, alas! too late, I know all the +vileness of my heart and the iniquity of my conduct. I have nothing to +say in my own defense, but I would not have you think me more perverse +than I am. You must not think I have used any arts—that I have laid any +plans for your destruction. Yes; it is true that I have been guilty of +an atrocious crime, but an unpremeditated one; a crime inspired, +perhaps, by the spirit of evil that possesses me. Do not abandon +yourself to despair, do not torture yourself, for God's sake! You are +responsible for nothing. It was a frenzy, a madness that took possession +of your noble spirit. Your sin is a light one; mine is flagrant, +shameful, horrible. Now I am less worthy of you than ever. It is I who +ask you now to leave this place. Go; do penance. God will pardon you. +Go; a priest will give you absolution. Once cleansed from sin, carry out +your purpose, and become a minister of the Most High. Then, through the +holiness of your life, through your ceaseless labors, not only will you +efface from your soul the last traces of this fall, but you will obtain +for me, when you have pardoned me the evil I have done you, the pardon +of Heaven also. You are bound to me by no tie, and even if you were I +should loosen or break it. You are free. Let it suffice me that I have +taken captive by surprise the star of the morning. It is not my +desire—I neither can nor ought to seek to keep him in my power. I +divine it, I read it in your gesture, I am convinced of it—you despise +me more than before; and you are right in despising me. There is neither +honor, nor virtue, nor shame in me."</p> + +<p>When she had thus spoken, Pepita, throwing herself on her knees, bowed +her face till her forehead touched the floor. Don Luis continued in the +same attitude as before. Thus, for some moments, they remained both +silent with the silence of despair.</p> + +<p>In a stifled voice, and without raising her face from the floor, Pepita +after a time continued:</p> + +<p>"Go now, Don Luis, and do not, through an insulting pity, remain any +longer at the side of so despicable a wretch as I. I shall have courage +to bear your indifference, your forgetfulness, your contempt, for I have +deserved them all. I shall always be your slave—but far from you, very +far from you, in order that nothing may recall to your memory the +infamy of this night."</p> + +<p>Pepita's voice, as she ended, was choked with sobs.</p> + +<p>Don Luis could restrain himself no longer. He arose, approached Pepita, +and, raising her in his arms from the floor, pressed her to his heart; +then, putting aside from her face the blond tresses that fell in +disorder over it, he covered it with passionate kisses.</p> + +<p>"Soul of my soul," he said at last, "life of my life, treasure of my +heart, light of my eyes, raise up your dejected brow, and do not +prostrate yourself any longer before me. The sinner, the vile wretch, he +who has shown himself weak of purpose, who has made himself the butt of +scorn and ridicule, is I, not you. Angels and devils alike must laugh at +me and mock me. I have clothed myself with a false sanctity. I was not +able to resist temptation, and to undeceive you in the beginning, as +would have been just, and now I am equally unable to show myself a +gentleman, a man of honor, or a tender lover who knows how to value the +favors of his mistress. I can not understand what it was you saw in me +to attract you. There never was in me any solid virtue—nothing but vain +show and the pedantry of a student who has read pious books as one reads +a novel, and on this foundation has based his foolish romance of a +future devoted to converting the heathen, and to pious meditations. If +there had been in me any solid virtue, I should have undeceived you in +time, and neither you nor I would have sinned. True virtue is not so +easily vanquished. Notwithstanding your beauty, notwithstanding your +intelligence, notwithstanding your love for me, I should not have fallen +if I had been in reality virtuous, if I had had a true vocation. God, to +whom all things are possible, would have bestowed his grace upon me. It +would have needed nothing less than a miracle, or some other +supernatural event, to have enabled me to resist your love, but God +would have wrought the miracle, and I should have been worthy of it, and +a motive sufficient for its being wrought. You are wrong to counsel me +to become a priest. I know my own unworthiness. It was only pride that +actuated me in my desire to be one. It was a worldly ambition, like any +other. What do I say—like any other? It was worse than any other; it +was a hypocritical, a sacrilegious, a simoniacal ambition."</p> + +<p>"Do not judge yourself so harshly," said Pepita, now more tranquil, and +smiling through her tears. "I do not want you to judge yourself thus, +not even for the purpose of making me appear less unworthy to be your +companion. No; I would have you choose me through love—freely; not to +repair a fault, not because you have fallen into the snares you perhaps +think I have perfidiously spread for you. If you do not love me, if you +distrust me, if you do not esteem me, then go. My lips shall not breathe +a single complaint, if you should abandon me forever, and never think of +me again."</p> + +<p>To answer this fittingly, our poor and beggarly human speech was +insufficient for Don Luis. He cut short Pepita's words by pressing his +lips to hers, and again clasping her to his heart.</p> + +<p class="top5">Some time afterward, with much previous coughing and shuffling of the +feet, Antoñona entered the library with the words:</p> + +<p>"What a long talk you must have had! The sermon our student has been +preaching this time can not have been that of the <i>seven words</i>—it came +very near being that of the <i>forty hours</i>. It is time you should go now, +Don Luis; it is almost two o'clock in the morning."</p> + +<p>"Very well," answered Pepita, "he will go directly."</p> + +<p>Antoñona left the library again, and waited outside.</p> + +<p>Pepita was like one transformed. One might suppose that the joys she had +missed in her childhood, the happiness and contentment she had failed to +taste in her early youth, the gay activity and sprightliness that a +harsh mother and an old husband had repressed, and, as it were, crushed +within her, had suddenly burst into life in her soul, like the green +leaves of the trees, whose germination has been retarded by the snows +and frosts of a long and severe winter.</p> + +<p>A city-bred lady, familiar with what we call social conventionalities, +may find something strange, and even worthy of censure, in what I am +about to relate of Pepita. But Pepita, although refined by instinct, was +a being in whom every feeling was spontaneous, and in whose nature there +was no room for the affected sedateness and circumspection that are +customary in the great world. Thus it was that, seeing the obstacles +removed that had stood in the way of her happiness, and Don Luis +conquered, holding his voluntary promise that he would make her his +wife, and believing herself, with justice, to be loved, nay, worshiped +by him whom she too loved and worshiped, she danced and laughed, and +gave way to other manifestations of joy that had in them, after all, +something childlike and innocent.</p> + +<p>But it was necessary that Don Luis should now depart. Pepita took a comb +and smoothed his hair lovingly, and kissed him. She then rearranged his +neck-tie.</p> + +<p>"Farewell, lord of my life," she said, "dear sovereign of my soul. I +will tell your father everything if you fear to do. He is good, and he +will forgive us."</p> + +<p>At last the lovers separated.</p> + +<p>When Pepita found herself alone, her restless gayety disappeared, and +her countenance assumed a grave and thoughtful expression.</p> + +<p>Two thoughts now presented themselves to her mind, both equally serious; +the one possessing a merely mundane interest, the other an interest of a +higher nature. The first thought was that her conduct to-night—the +delirium of passion once past—might prejudice her in the opinion of Don +Luis; but, finding, after a severe examination of her conscience, that +neither premeditation nor artifice had had any part in her actions, +which were the offspring of an irresistible love, and of impulses noble +in themselves, she came to the conclusion that Don Luis could not +despise her for it, and she therefore made her mind easy on that point. +Nevertheless, although her frank confession that she was unable to +comprehend a love that was purely spiritual, and her taking refuge +afterward in the obscurity of her chamber—without foreseeing +consequences—were both the result of an impulse innocent enough in +itself, Pepita did not seek to deny in her own mind that she had sinned +against God, and on this point she could find for herself no excuse.</p> + +<p>She commended herself with all her heart, therefore, to the Virgin, +entreating her forgiveness. She vowed to the image of Our Lady of +Solitude, in the convent of the nuns, seven beautiful golden swords of +the finest and most elaborate workmanship, to adorn her breast, and +determined to go to confess herself on the following day to the vicar, +and to submit herself to the harshest penance he should choose to impose +upon her, in order to merit the absolution of those sins by means of +which she had vanquished the obstinacy of Don Luis, who, but for them, +would without a doubt have become a priest.</p> + +<p>While Pepita was engaged in these reflections, and while she was +arranging with so much discretion the affairs of her soul, Don Luis had +descended to the hall below, accompanied by Antoñona.</p> + +<p>Before taking his leave, Don Luis, without preface or circumlocution, +spoke thus:</p> + +<p>"Antoñona, tell me, you who are acquainted with everything, who is the +Count of Genazahar, and what has he had to do with your mistress?</p> + +<p>"You begin to be jealous very soon."</p> + +<p>"It is not jealousy that makes me ask this, it is simply curiosity."</p> + +<p>"So much the better. There is nothing more tiresome than jealousy. Well, +I will try to satisfy your curiosity. This same count has given room +enough for talk. He is a dissipated fellow, a gambler, and a man of no +principle whatever, but he has more vanity than Don Roderick on the +gallows. He made up his mind that my mistress should fall in love with +him and marry him, and, as she has refused him a thousand times, he is +mad enough to be tied. This does not prevent him, however, from keeping +in his money-chest more than a thousand dollars that Don Gumersindo lent +him years ago, without any more security than a bit of paper, through +the fault and at the entreaty of Pepita, who is better than bread. The +fool of a count thought, no doubt, that Pepita, who was so good to him +as a wife that she persuaded her husband to lend him money, would be so +much better to him as a widow that she would consent to marry him. He +was soon undeceived, however, and then he became furious."</p> + +<p>"Good-by, Antoñona," said Don Luis, as, now grave and thoughtful, he +left the house.</p> + +<p>The lights of the shops and of the booths in the fair were now +extinguished, and everybody was going home to bed, with the exception of +the owners of the toy-shops, and other poor hucksters, who slept beside +their wares in the open air.</p> + +<p>In some of the grated windows were still to be seen lovers, wrapped in +their cloaks, and chatting with their sweethearts. Almost every one else +had disappeared.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, once out of sight of Antoñona, gave a loose rein to his +thoughts. His resolution was taken, and all his reflections tended to +confirm this resolution. The sincerity and ardor of the passion with +which he had inspired Pepita; her beauty; the youthful grace of her +person, and the fresh exuberance of her soul, presented themselves to +his imagination, and rendered him happy.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding this, however, he could not but reflect with mortified +vanity on the change that had been wrought in himself. What would the +dean think? How great would be the horror the bishop! And, above all, +how serious were the grounds for complaint he had given his father! The +displeasure of the latter, his anger when he should know of the bond +that bound his son to Pepita, caused him infinite disquietude.</p> + +<p>As for what—before he fell—he had called his fall it must be confessed +that, after he had fallen, it did not seem to him either so very serious +or so very reprehensible. His spiritual-mindedness, viewed in the light +that had just dawned upon him, he fancied to have had neither reality +nor consistency; to have been but the vain and artificial product of his +reading, of his boyish arrogance, of his aimless tenderness in the +innocent days of his college life. When he remembered that he had at +times thought himself the recipient of supernatural gifts and graces, +that he heard mystic whisperings, that his spirit held communion with +superior beings; when he remembered that he had fancied himself almost +beginning to tread the path that leads to spiritual unity, through +contemplation of the Divine, penetrating into the recesses of the soul, +and mounting up to the region of pure intelligence, he smiled to +himself, and began to suspect that during the period in question he had +not been altogether in his right mind. It had all been simply the result +of his own arrogance. He had neither done penance, nor passed long years +in meditation; he did not possess, nor had he ever possessed, sufficient +merits for God to favor him with privileges like these. The greatest +proof he could give himself of the truth of this, the greatest certainty +he could possess that the supernatural favors he had enjoyed were +spurious; mere recollections of the authors he had read, was that not +one of them had ever given him the rapture of Pepita's "I love you," or +of the soft touch of her hand caressing his dark locks.</p> + +<p>Don Luis had recourse to another species of Christian humility to +justify in his eyes what he now no longer called his fall, but his +change of purpose. He confessed himself unworthy to be a priest; he +reconciled himself to being a commonplace married man, a good sort of +country gentleman, like any other, taking care of his vines and olives, +and bringing up his children—for he now desired to have children—and +to being a model husband at the side of his Pepita.</p> + +<p class="top5">Here I think myself again in the necessity—responsible as I am for the +publication and divulgation of this history—of interpolating various +reflections and explanations of my own.</p> + +<p>I said at the beginning of the story that I was inclined to think that +the narrative part, or <i>paralipomena</i>, was composed by the reverend dean +for the purpose of completing the story, and supplying incidents not +related in the letters; but I had not at that time read the manuscript +with attention. Now, on observing the freedom with which certain matters +are treated, and the indulgence with which certain frailties are +regarded by the author, I am compelled to ask whether the reverend dean, +with the severity of whose morals I am well acquainted, would have spent +his time in writing what we have just read.</p> + +<p>There are not sufficient grounds, however, for denying positively that +the reverend dean was the author of these <i>paralipomena</i>. The question, +therefore, may still be left in doubt, as in substance they contain +nothing opposed to Catholic doctrine or to Christian morality. On the +contrary, if we examine them carefully, we shall see that they contain a +lesson to pride and arrogance, in the person of Don Luis. This history +might easily serve as an appendix to the "Spiritual Disillusions" of +Father Arbiol.</p> + +<p>As for the opinion entertained by two or three ingenious friends of mine +that the reverend dean, if he were the author, would have used a +different style in his narration, saying "my nephew" in speaking of Don +Luis, and interposing, from time to time, moral reflections of his own, +I do not think it an argument of any great weight. The reverend dean +proposed to himself to tell what had taken place, without seeking to +prove any thesis, and he acted with judgment in narrating things as they +were, without analyzing motives or moralizing. He did not do ill, +either, in my opinion, in concealing his personality, and in avoiding +the use of the word <i>I</i>, which is a proof, not only of his humility and +modesty, but of his literary taste also, for the epic poets and +historians who should serve us as models, do not say <i>I</i>, even when +speaking of themselves, and are themselves the heroes of the events they +relate. The Athenian Xenophon, to cite an instance, does not say <i>I</i> in +his "Anabasis" but speaks of himself in the third person, when +necessary, as if the historian of those exploits were one person, and +the hero of them another. And there are whole chapters in which no +mention at all is made of Xenophon. Only a little before the famous +battle in which the youthful Cyrus met his death, while this prince was +reviewing the Greeks and barbarians who formed his army, and when that +of his brother Artaxerxes was already near, having been descried on the +broad, treeless plain afar off, first as a little white cloud, then as a +black spot, and, finally, clearly and distinctly—the neighing of the +horses, the creaking of the war-chariots armed with formidable scythes, +the cries of the elephants and the sound of warlike instruments reaching +the ears of the spectators, and the glitter of the brass and gold of the +weapons, irradiated by the sun, striking their eyes—only at that +moment, I repeat, and not before, does Xenophon appear in his own +person; then he emerges from the ranks to speak with Cyrus, and explains +to him the cry that ran from Greek to Greek; it was no other than what +in our day we call the watchword; and on that occasion it was "<i>Jupiter +the Savior, and victory!</i>"</p> + +<p>The reverend dean, who was a man of taste, and very well versed in the +classics, would not be likely to fall into the error of introducing +himself into the narrative, and mixing himself up with it, under pretext +of being the uncle or tutor of the hero; and of vexing the reader by +coming out at every step a little difficult or slippery, with a "Stop +there!" or "What are you about to do?" or, "Take care you do not fall, +unhappy boy!" or other warnings of a like sort. Not to open his lips, +on the other hand, or manifest disapprobation in any way whatever, he +being present at least in spirit, would, in the case of some of the +incidents related, have been but little becoming. In view of these +facts, the reverend dean, with the discretion which was characteristic +of him, may possibly have composed the <i>paralipomena</i>, without +disclosing his identity to the reader. This much is certain, however—he +added notes and comments of an edifying and profitable character, where +such or such a passage seemed to require them. But these I have +suppressed, for the reason that notes and comments are now out of +fashion, and because this little book would be beyond measure voluminous +if it were printed with these additions.</p> + +<p>I shall insert here, however, in the body of the text, the comment of +the reverend dean on the rapid transformation of Don Luis from +spiritual-mindedness to the reverse, as it is curious and throws much +light on the whole matter.</p> + +<p>"This change of purpose of my nephew," he says, "does not disappoint me. +I foresaw it from the time he wrote me his first letters. I was deceived +in regard to Luisito in the beginning. I believed him to have a true +religious vocation; but I soon recognized the fact that his was a vain +poetic spirit. Mysticism was the form his poetic imaginings took, only +until a more adequate form presented itself.</p> + +<p>"Praised be God, who has willed that Luisito should be undeceived in +time! A bad priest he would have made, if Pepita Ximenez had not so +opportunely presented herself. His very impatience to attain to +perfection at a single bound would have caused me to suspect something +if I had not been blinded by the affection of an uncle. What! are the +favors of Heaven thus obtained all at once? Is it only necessary to +present one's self in order to triumph? A friend of mine, a naval +officer, used to relate that, when he was in certain cities of America, +being then very young, he sought to gain favor with the ladies with too +much precipitation, and that they would say to him in their languid +American accent: 'You have but just presented yourself, and you already +want to be loved. Do something to deserve it, if you are able.' If these +ladies answered thus, what answer will not Heaven give to those who hope +to gain it without merit, and in the twinkling of an eye? Many efforts +must be made, much purification is needed, much penance must be done, in +order to begin to stand well in the sight of God, and to enjoy his +favors. Even in those vain and false philosophies that have in them +anything of mysticism, no supernatural gift or grace is received without +a powerful effort and a costly sacrifice. Iamblichus was not given +power to evoke the genii, and cause them to emerge from the fountain of +Gadara, without first spending days and nights in study, and mortifying +the body with privations and abstinences. Apollonius of Tyana is thought +to have mortified himself finely before performing his false miracles. +And in our own day the Krausists, who behold God, as they affirm, with +corporeal vision, are forced to read and learn beforehand the whole +"Analytics" of Sanz del Río, which is a much harder task and a greater +proof of patience and endurance than to flagellate the body until it +looks like a ripe fig. My nephew desired, without effort or merit, to be +a perfect man, and—see how it has ended! The important thing now is +that he shall make a good husband, and that, since he is unsuited for +great things, he may be fit for smaller ones—for domestic life, and to +make Pepita happy, whose only fault, after all, is to have fallen madly +in love with him, with all the ingenuousness and violence of an untamed +creature."</p> + +<p class="top5">Thus far the comments of the reverend dean, written with easy +familiarity, as if for himself alone; for the good man was far from +suspecting that I would play him the trick of giving them to the public.</p> + +<p class="top5">Don Luis, in the middle of the street, at two o'clock in the morning, +was occupied with the thought, as we have said, that his life, that +until now he had dreamed might be worthy of the "Golden Legend," was +about to be converted into a sweet and perpetual idyl. He had not been +able to resist the lures of earthly passion. He had failed to imitate +the example set by so many saints, among others by St. Vincent Ferrer +with regard, to a certain dissolute lady of Valencia; though, indeed, +the cases were dissimilar. For if to flee from the diabolical courtesan +in question was an act of heroic virtue in St. Vincent, to flee from the +self-abandonment, the ingenuousness, and the humility of Pepita would, +in him, have been something as monstrous and cruel as if, when Ruth lay +down at the feet of Boaz, saying to him, "I am thy handmaid; spread +therefore thy skirt over thine handmaid," Boaz had given her a blow and +sent her about her business! Don Luis, then, when Pepita surrendered +herself to him, was obliged to follow the example of Boaz, and exclaim: +"Daughter, blessed be thou of the Lord; thou hast shewed more kindness +in the latter end than at the beginning." Thus did Don Luis justify +himself in not following the example of St. Vincent, and other saints no +less churlish. As for the ill success of the design he had entertained +of imitating St. Edward, he tried also to justify and excuse it. St. +Edward married for reasons of state, and without entertaining any +affection for Queen Edith; but in his case and in that of Pepita +Ximenez there were no reasons of state, but only a tender love on both +sides.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, however, did not deny to himself—and this imparted to his +present happiness a slight tinge of melancholy—that he had proved false +to his ideal; that he had been vanquished in the conflict. Those who +have no ideal, who have never had an ideal, would not distress +themselves on this account. Don Luis did distress himself; but he +presently came to the conclusion that he would substitute a more humble +and easily attained ideal for his former exalted one. And although the +recollection of Don Quixote's resolution to turn shepherd, on being +vanquished by the Knight of the White Moon, here crossed his mind with +ludicrous appositeness, he was in no way daunted by it. He thought, in +union with Pepita Ximenez, to renew, in our prosaic and unbelieving +time, the golden age, and to repeat the pious example of Philemon and +Baucis, creating: a model of patriarchal life in these pleasant fields, +founding in the place where he was born a home presided over by +religion, that should be at once the asylum of the needy, the center of +culture and friendly conviviality, and the clear mirror in which the +domestic virtues should be reflected; joining in one, finally, conjugal +love and the love of God, in order that God might sanctify and be +present in their dwelling, making it the temple in which both should be +his ministers, until, by the will of Heaven, they should be called to a +better life.</p> + +<p>Two obstacles must first be removed, however, before all this could be +realized, and Don Luis began to consider with himself how he might best +remove them.</p> + +<p>The one was the displeasure, perhaps the anger, of his father, whom he +had defrauded of his dearest hopes. The other was of a very different +and, in a certain sense, of a much more serious character. Don Luis, +while he entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was right in +defending Pepita from the gross insults of the Count of Genazahar by the +weapons of argument only, and in taking no vengeance for the scorn and +contempt with which those arguments were listened to. But, having now +determined to lay aside the cassock, and obliged, as he was, to declare +immediately that he was betrothed to Pepita and was going to marry her, +Don Luis, notwithstanding his peaceable disposition, his dreams of human +brotherhood, and his religious belief, all of which remained intact in +his soul, and all of which were alike opposed to violent measures, could +not succeed in reconciling it with his dignity to refrain from breaking +the head of the insolent count. He knew well that dueling is a barbarous +practice; that Pepita had no need of the blood of the count to wash +from her name the stain of calumny; and even that the count himself had +uttered the insults he had uttered, not because he believed them, nor +perhaps through an excess of hatred, but through stupidity and want of +breeding. Notwithstanding all these reflections, however, Don Luis was +conscious that he would never again be able to respect himself, and, as +a consequence, would never be able to perform to his taste the <i>rôle</i> of +Philemon, if he did not begin with that of Furabras, by giving the count +his deserts; asking God, meantime, never again to place him in a similar +position.</p> + +<p>This matter, then, being decided upon, he resolved to bring it to an end +as soon as possible. And as it appeared to him that it would be +inexpedient, as well as in bad taste, to arrange the affair through +seconds, and thus make the honor of Pepita a subject of common talk, he +determined to provoke a quarrel with the count under some other pretext.</p> + +<p>Thinking that the count, being a stranger in the village and a confirmed +gambler, might possibly be still engaged at play in the club-house, +notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Don Luis went straight there.</p> + +<p>The club-house was still open, but, both in the court-yard and the +parlors, the lights were nearly all extinguished. In one apartment only +was there still a light. Thither Don Luis directed his steps, and, on +reaching it, he saw through the open door the Count of Genazahar engaged +in playing <i>monte</i>, in which he acted as banker. Only five other persons +were playing; two were strangers like the count; the others were the +captain of cavalry in charge of the remount, Currito, and the doctor. +Things could not have been better arranged to suit the purpose of Don +Luis. So engrossed were the players in their game that they did not +observe him, who, as soon as he saw the count, left the club-house and +went rapidly homeward.</p> + +<p>On reaching his house the door was opened for him by a servant. Don Luis +inquired for his father, and, finding that he was asleep, procured a +light and went up to his own room, taking care to make no noise lest he +should disturb him. There he took some three thousand reals in gold that +he had laid by, and put them in his pocket. He then called the servant +to open the door for him again, and returned to the club-house.</p> + +<p>Arrived there, Don Luis entered the parlor in which the players were, +walking noisily, and giving himself the airs of a fop. The players were +struck with amazement at seeing him.</p> + +<p>"You here, at this hour!" said Currito.</p> + +<p>"Where do you come from, little priest?" said the doctor.</p> + +<p>"Have you come to preach me another sermon?" cried the count.</p> + +<p>"I have done with sermons," returned Don Luis, calmly. "The bad success +of the last one I preached has clearly convinced me that God does not +call me to that path in life, and I have chosen another. You, count, +have wrought my conversion. I have thrown aside the cassock. I wish to +amuse myself; I am in the flower of my youth, and I want to enjoy it."</p> + +<p>"Come, I am glad of that," returned the count; "but take care, my lad, +for, if the flower be a delicate one, it may wither and drop its leaves +before their time."</p> + +<p>"I shall take care of that," returned Don Luis. "I see you are playing; +I feel inspired. You are dealing. Do you know, count, that it would be +amusing if I should break your bank?"</p> + +<p>"You think it would be amusing, eh? You have been dining liberally!"</p> + +<p>"I have dined as I choose to dine."</p> + +<p>"The youngster is learning to answer back."</p> + +<p>"I learn what it is my pleasure to learn."</p> + +<p>"Damnation!" cried the count, and the storm was about to burst, when the +captain, interposing, succeeded in re-establishing the peace.</p> + +<p>"Come," said the count, when he had recovered his temper, "out with your +cash, and try your luck."</p> + +<p>Don Luis seated himself at the table, and took out all his gold. At +sight of it the count regained his serenity completely, for it must have +exceeded in amount the sum he had in the bank, and he already pleased +himself in anticipation with the thought of winning it.</p> + +<p>"There is no need to cudgel one's brains much in this game," said Don +Luis to the count; "I think I understand it already. I put money on a +card, and if the card turns up, I win; and if the card opposed to it +turns up, you win."</p> + +<p>"Just so, my young friend; you have a strong understanding."</p> + +<p>"And the best of it is that I have not only a strong understanding, but +a strong will as well. But, though I may have the stubbornness of the +donkey, I am not the complete donkey that many a one I know of is."</p> + +<p>"What a witty mood you are in to-night, and how anxious you are to +display your wit!"</p> + +<p>Don Luis was silent. He played a few times, and was so lucky as to win +each time.</p> + +<p>The count began to be annoyed.</p> + +<p>"What if the youngster should pluck me?" he said to himself. "Fortune +favors the innocent."</p> + +<p>While the count was troubling himself with this reflection, Don Luis, +feeling fatigued, and weary now of the part he was playing, determined +to end the matter at once.</p> + +<p>"The object of all this," he said, "is to see if I can win all your +gold, or if you can win mine. Is it not so, count?"</p> + +<p>"Just so."</p> + +<p>"Well, then, why should we remain here all night? It is getting late, +and, according to your advice, I ought to retire early, so that the +flower of my youth may not wither before its time."</p> + +<p>"How is this? Do you want to go away already? Do you want to back out?"</p> + +<p>"I have not the slightest desire to back out. Quite the +contrary.—Currito, tell me, in this heap of gold here, is there not +already more than there is in the bank?"</p> + +<p>Currito looked at the gold and answered:</p> + +<p>"Without a doubt."</p> + +<p>"How shall I explain," asked Don Luis, "that I wish to stake on one card +all that I have here, against what there is in the bank?"</p> + +<p>"You do that," responded Currito, "by saying, 'I play <i>banco!</i>'"</p> + +<p>"Well, then, I play <i>banco</i>," said Don Luis, addressing himself to the +count; "I play <i>banco</i> on this king of spades, whose companion will to a +certainty turn up before his opponent the three does."</p> + +<p>The count, whose whole cash capital was in the bank, began to be alarmed +at the risk he ran; but there was nothing for it but to accept.</p> + +<p>It is a common saying that those who are fortunate in love are +unfortunate at play but the reverse of this is often more nearly the +truth. He who is fortunate in one thing is apt to be fortunate in +everything; it is the same when one is unfortunate.</p> + +<p>The count continued to draw cards, but no <i>three</i> turned up. His +emotion, notwithstanding his efforts to conceal it, was great. Finally, +he came to a card which he knew by the lines at the top to be the king +of hearts, and paused.</p> + +<p>"Draw," said the captain.</p> + +<p>"It is no use! The king of hearts! Curses on it! The little priest has +plucked me. Take up your money."</p> + +<p>The count threw the cards angrily on the table.</p> + +<p>Don Luis took up the money calmly, and with apparent indifference.</p> + +<p>After a short silence the count said:</p> + +<p>"My little priest, you must give me my revenge."</p> + +<p>"I see no such necessity."</p> + +<p>"It seems to me that between gentlemen—"</p> + +<p>"According to that rule the game would have no end," said Don Luis, "and +it would be better to save one's self the trouble of playing +altogether."</p> + +<p>"Give me my revenge," replied the count, without paying any attention to +this argument.</p> + +<p>"Be it so," returned Don Luis; "I wish to be generous."</p> + +<p>The count took up the cards again, and proceeded to deal.</p> + +<p>"Stop a moment," said Don Luis; "let us understand each other. Where is +the money for your new bank?"</p> + +<p>The count showed signs of confusion and disturbance.</p> + +<p>"I have no money here," he returned, "but it seems to me that my word is +more than enough."</p> + +<p>Don Luis answered, with grave and measured accent:</p> + +<p>"Count, I should be quite willing to trust the word of a gentleman, and +allow him to remain in my debt, if it were not that in doing so I should +fear to lose your friendship, which I am now in a fair way to gain; but, +as I was a witness this morning to the cruelty with which you treated +certain friends of mine, to whom you are indebted, I do not wish to run +the risk of becoming culpable in your eyes by means of the same fault. +How ridiculous to suppose that I should voluntarily incur your enmity by +lending you money which you would not repay me, as you have not repaid, +except with insults, that which you owe Pepita Ximenez!"</p> + +<p>From the fact that this accusation was true, the offense was all the +greater. The count became livid with anger, and, by this time on his +feet, ready to come to blows with the collegian.</p> + +<p>"You lie, slanderer!" he exclaimed. "I shall tear you limb from limb, +you——"</p> + +<p>This last insult, which concerned the honor of her whose memory was most +sacred to him, was never finished; its end never reached his ears. For, +with marvelous quickness, dexterity, and force, he reached across the +table which was between himself and the count, and, with the light, +flexible bamboo cane with which he had armed himself, struck his +antagonist on the face, raising on it instantly a dark purple welt.</p> + +<p>There was neither retort, outcry, nor uproar after this. When the hands +come into play, the tongue is apt to be silent. The count was about to +throw himself on Don Luis, for the purpose of tearing him to pieces, if +it were in his power. But opinion had changed greatly since yesterday +morning, and was now on the side of Don Luis. The captain, the doctor, +and even Currito, who now showed more courage than he had done on that +occasion, all held back the count, who struggled and fought ferociously +to release himself.</p> + +<p>"Let me go!" he cried; "let me get at him and kill him!"</p> + +<p>"I do not seek to prevent a duel," said the captain; "a duel is +inevitable. I only seek to prevent your fighting here, like two porters. +I should be wanting in self-respect if I consented to be present at +such a combat."</p> + +<p>"Let weapons be brought!" said the count; "I do not wish to defer the +affair for a single moment. At once—and here!"</p> + +<p>"Will you fight with sabers?" said the captain.</p> + +<p>"Yes," responded Don Luis.</p> + +<p>"Sabers be it," said the count.</p> + +<p>All this was said in a low voice, so that nothing might be heard in the +street. Even the servants of the club-house, who slept on chairs in the +kitchen and in the yard, were not awakened by the noise.</p> + +<p>Don Luis chose as his seconds the captain and Currito; the count chose +the two strangers. The doctor made ready to practice his art, and show +the signal of the Red Cross.</p> + +<p>It was not yet daylight. It was agreed that the apartment in which they +were, should be the field of combat, the door being first closed. The +captain went to his house for the sabers, and returned soon afterward, +carrying them under the cloak which he had put on for the purpose of +concealing them from view.</p> + +<p>We already know that Don Luis had never wielded a weapon in his life. +Fortunately the count, although he had never studied theology, or +entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was not much more skilled +than he in the art of handling the broadsword.</p> + +<p>The only roles laid down for the duel were that, their sabers once in +hand, each of the combatants should use his weapon as Heaven might best +direct him.</p> + +<p>The door of the apartment was closed. The tables and chairs were placed +in a corner, to leave a free field for the combatants, and the lights +were suitably disposed.</p> + +<p>Don Luis and the count divested themselves of their coats and +waistcoats, remaining in their shirt-sleeves, and selected, each one, +his weapon. The seconds stood on one side. At a signal from the captain, +the combat began. Between two persons who know neither how to parry a +stroke nor how to put themselves on guard, a combat must of necessity be +brief; and such this one was.</p> + +<p>The fury of the count, restrained for some time past, now burst forth +and blinded his reason. He was strong, and he had wrists of steel; and +he showered down on Don Luis, with his saber, a rain of blows without +order or sequence. Four times he succeeded in touching Don Luis—each +time, fortunately, with the flat of his weapon. He bruised his +shoulders, but did not wound him. The young theologian had need of all +his strength to keep from falling to the floor, overcome by the force of +the blows and the pain of his bruises. A fifth time the count struck +Don Luis, and this time with the edge of his weapon, although sidewise. +The blood of Don Luis began to flow abundantly. Far from stopping, the +count resumed the attack with renewed fury, in the hope of again +wounding his antagonist. He almost placed himself under the weapon of +Don Luis. The latter, instead of putting himself in position to parry, +brought his sword down vigorously on his adversary, and succeeded in +wounding the count in the head. The blood gushed forth, and ran down his +forehead and into his eyes. Stunned by the blow, the count fell heavily +to the floor.</p> + +<p>The whole combat was a matter of a few seconds. Don Luis had remained +tranquil throughout, like a Stoic philosopher, who is obliged by the +hard law of necessity to take part in a conflict opposed alike to his +habits and his ways of thought. But no sooner did he see his antagonist +extended on the floor, bathed in blood and looking as though he were +dead, than he experienced the most poignant anguish, and feared for a +moment that he should faint. He who, until within the last five or six +hours, had held unwaveringly to his resolution of being a priest, a +missionary, a minister and a messenger of the gospel, had committed, or +accused himself of having committed, during those few hours, every +crime, and of breaking all the commandments of God. There was now no +mortal sin by which he was not contaminated. First, his purpose of +leading a life of perfect and heroic holiness had been put to flight; +then followed his purpose of leading a life of holiness of a more easy, +comfortable, and <i>bourgeois</i> sort. The devil seemed to please himself in +over-throwing his plans. He reflected that he could now no longer be +even a Christian Philemon, for to lay his neighbor's head open with a +stroke of a saber was not a very good beginning of his idyl.</p> + +<p>Don Luis, after the agitations of the day, was now in a condition +resembling that of a man who has brain-fever. Currito and the captain, +one at each side, took hold of him and led him home.</p> + +<p class="top5">Don Pedro de Vargas got out of bed in terror when he was told that his +son had come home wounded. He ran to see him, examined his bruises and +the wound in his arm, and saw that they were none of them attended with +danger; but he broke out into threats of vengeance, and would not be +pacified until he was made acquainted with the particulars of the +affair, and learned that Don Luis had known how to avenge himself in +spite of his theology.</p> + +<p>The doctor came soon after to examine the wound, and was of opinion that +in three or four days' time Don Luis would be able to go out again, as +if nothing had happened. With the count, on the other hand, it would be +a matter of months. His life, however, was in no danger. He had returned +to consciousness, and had asked to be taken to his own village, which +was distant only a league from the village which these events took +place. A hired coach had been procured, and he had been taken thither, +accompanied by his servant, and the two strangers who had acted as his +seconds.</p> + +<p>Four days after the affair the doctor's opinion was justified by the +result, and Don Luis, although sore from his bruises, and with his wound +still open, was in a condition to go out, and promised a complete +recovery within a short time.</p> + +<p>The first duty which Don Luis thought himself obliged to fulfill, as +soon as he was off the sick-list, was to confess to his father his love +for Pepita, and his intention of marrying her.</p> + +<p>Don Pedro had not gone to the country, nor had he occupied himself in +any other way than in taking care of his son during the sickness of the +latter. He was constantly at his side, waiting on him and petting him +with tender affection.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the 27th of June, after the doctor had gone, Don Pedro +being alone with his son, the confession, so difficult for Don Luis to +make, took place in the following manner:</p> + +<p>"Father," said Don Luis, "I ought not to deceive you any longer. To-day +I am going to confess my faults to you, and cast away hypocrisy."</p> + +<p>"If it is a confession you are about to make, my boy, it would be better +for you to send for the reverend vicar. My standard of morality is an +indulgent one, and I shall give you absolution for everything, without +my absolution being of much value to you, however. But if you wish to +confide to me some weighty secret, as to your best friend, begin by all +means; I am ready to listen to you."</p> + +<p>"What I am about to confess to you is a very serious fault of which I +have been guilty; and I am ashamed to—"</p> + +<p>"You have no need to be ashamed before your father; speak frankly."</p> + +<p>Here Don Luis, growing very red, and with visible confusion, said:</p> + +<p>"My secret is, that I am in love with—Pepita Ximenez—and that she—"</p> + +<p>Don Pedro interrupted his son with a burst of laughter, and finished the +sentence for him:</p> + +<p>"And that she is in love with you, and that on the night of St. John's +eve you were with her in tender conference until two o'clock in the +morning, and that, for her sake, you sought a quarrel with the Count of +Genazahar, whose head you have broken. A pretty secret you confide to +me, truly! There isn't a cat or a dog in the village that is not fully +acquainted with every detail of the business. The only thing there +seemed a possibility of being able to conceal was, that your interview +lasted until just two o'clock in the morning; but some gypsy cake-women +chanced to see you leave Pepita's house, and did not stop until they had +told every living creature in the place of it. Pepita, besides, makes no +great effort to conceal the truth, and in this she does well, for that +would be only the concealment of Antequera. Since you have been wounded, +Pepita comes here twice a day, and sends Antoñona two or three times +more to inquire after you; and if they have not come in to see you, it +is because I would not consent to their doing so, lest it should excite +you."</p> + +<p>The confusion and the distress of Don Luis reached their climax when he +heard his father thus compendiously tell the whole story.</p> + +<p>"How surprised," he said, "how astounded you must have been!"</p> + +<p>"No, my boy, I was neither surprised nor astounded. The matter has been +known in the village only for four days, and indeed, to tell the truth, +your transformation did create some surprise. 'Oh, the sly-boots! the +wolf in sheep's clothing! the hypocrite!' every one exclaimed, 'how we +have been deceived in him!' The reverend vicar, above all, is quite +bewildered. He is still crossing himself to think how you toiled in the +vineyard of the Lord on the night of the 23d and the morning of the +24th, and of how diverse a character were your labors. But there was +nothing in these occurrences to surprise me, except your wound. We old +people can feel the grass grow. It is not easy for the chickens to +deceive the huckster."</p> + +<p>"It is true, I sought to deceive you! I have been a hypocrite!"</p> + +<p>"Don't be a fool; I do not say this to blame you. I say it in order to +give myself an air of perspicacity. But let us speak with frankness. My +boasting is, after all, without foundation. I knew, step by step, for +more than two months past, the progress of your love-affair with Pepita; +but I know it because your uncle the dean, to whom you were writing all +that passed within your mind, has communicated it to me. Listen to your +uncle's letter of accusation, and to the answer I gave him, a very +important document, of which I have kept the copy."</p> + +<p>Don Pedro took some papers from his pocket, and read as follows:</p> + +<p class="c top5"> +<i>The Dean's Letter.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">My dear Brother</span>: It grieves me to the heart to be obliged to give you a +piece of bad news; but I trust that God will grant you patience and +endurance to enable you to hear it without feeling too much anger or +bitterness. Luisito has been writing me strange letters for some days +past, in which he reveals, in the midst of his mystical exaltation, an +inclination, earthly and sinful enough, toward a certain widow, +charming, mischievous, and coquettish, who lives in your village. Up to +the present I had deceived myself, believing Luisito's vocation to be a +true one; and I flattered myself with giving to the Church of God, in +him, a wise, virtuous, and exemplary priest. But his letters have +dispelled my illusions. Luisito shows himself, in them, to have more of +poetry than of true piety in his nature; and the widow, who must be a +limb of Satan, will be able to vanquish him with but a very slight +effort. Although I write to Luisito admonishing him to flee from +temptation, I am already certain that he will fall into it. This ought +not to grieve me; for, if he is to be false to his vocation, to indulge +in gallantries, and to make love, it is better that this evil +disposition should reveal itself in time, and that he should not become +a priest. I should not, therefore, see any serious objection to +Luisito's remaining with you, for the purpose of being tested by the +touchstone and analyzed in the crucible of such a love, making the +little widow the agent by whose means might be discovered how great is +the quantity of the pure gold of his clerical virtues, and how much +alloy is mixed with that gold, were it not that we are met by the +difficulty that the widow whom we would thus convert into a faithful +assayer, is the object of your own addresses, and, it may be, your +sweetheart. That your son should turn out to be your rival would be too +serious a matter. This would be a monstrous scandal, and, to avoid it in +time, I write to you to-day to the end that, under whatever pretext, you +may send or bring Luisito here—the sooner the better."</p> + +<p>Don Luis listened in silence, and with his eyes cast down. His father +continued:</p> + +<p>"To this letter of the dean I answered as follows:</p> + +<p class="c top5"> +<i>Don Pedro's Answer.</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>"<span class="smcap">Dear Brother and Venerable Spiritual Father</span>: I return you a thousand +thanks for the news you send me, and for your counsel and advice. +Although I flatter myself with not being wanting in shrewdness, I +confess my stupidity on this occasion; I was blinded by vanity. Pepita +Ximenez, from the time that my son arrived here, manifested toward me so +much amiability and affection that I began to indulge in pleasing hopes +on my own account. Your letter was necessary to undeceive me. I now +understand that in making herself so sociable, in showing me so many +attentions, and in dancing attendance on me, as she did, this cunning +Pepita had in her mind only the father of the smooth-faced theologian. I +shall not attempt to conceal from you that, for the moment, this +disappointment mortified and distressed me a little; but, when I +reflected over it with due consideration, my mortification and my +distress were converted into joy. Luis is an excellent boy. Since he has +been with me, I have learned to regard him with much greater affection +than formerly. I parted from him, and gave him up to you to educate, +because my own life was not very exemplary, and, for this and other +reasons, he would have grown up here a savage. You went beyond my hopes +and even my desires, and almost made of Luisito a father of the Church. +To have a holy son would have flattered my vanity; but I should have +been very sorry to remain without an heir to my house and name, who +would give me handsome grandchildren, and who, after my death, would +enjoy my wealth, which is my glory, for I acquired it by skill and +industry, and not by artifices and tricks. Perhaps the conviction I had +that there was no remedy, and that Luis would inevitably go to convert +the Chinese, the Indians, and the blacks of Monicongo made me resolve on +marrying, so as to provide myself with an heir. Naturally enough, I cast +my eyes on Pepita Ximenez, who is not, as you imagine, a limb of Satan, +but a lovely creature, as innocent as an angel, and ardent in her +nature, rather than coquettish. I have so good an opinion of Pepita +that, if she were again sixteen, with a domineering mother who +tyrannized over her, and if I were eighty, like Don Gumersindo, that is +to say, if death were already knocking at the door, I would marry +Pepita, that her smile might cheer me on my death-bed, as if my guardian +angel had taken human shape in her; and for the purpose of leaving her +my position, my fortune, and my name. But Pepita is not sixteen, but +twenty, nor is she now in the power of that serpent, her mother; nor am +I eighty, but fifty-five. I am at the very worst age, because I begin to +feel myself considerably the worse for wear, with something of asthma, a +good deal of cough, rheumatic pains, and other chronic ailments; yet the +devil a wish have I to die, notwithstanding! I believe I shall not die +for twenty years to come, and, as I am thirty-five years older than +Pepita, you may calculate the miserable future that would await her, +tied to an old man who would live forever. At the end of a few years of +marriage she would be compelled to hate me, notwithstanding her +goodness. Doubtless it is because she is good and wise, that she has not +chosen to accept me for a husband, notwithstanding the perseverance and +the obstinacy with which I have proposed it to her. How much do I not +thank her for this now! Even my self-love, wounded by her scorn, is +soothed by the reflection that, if she does not love me, at least she +loves one of my blood; she is captivated by a son of mine. If this fresh +and luxuriant ivy, I say to myself, refuses to twine around the old +trunk, worm-eaten already, it climbs by it to reach the new sprout it +has put forth—a green and flourishing offshoot. May God bless them +both, and make their love prosper! Far from taking the boy to you again, +I shall keep him here—by force, if it be necessary. I have determined +to conspire against his vocation. I dream already of seeing him married. +I shall grow young again, contemplating the handsome pair, joined +together by love. And how will it be when they shall have given me a +couple of grandchildren? Instead of going as a missionary, and bringing +back to me from Australia, or Madagascar, or India, neophytes black as +soot, with lips the size of your hand, or yellow as deer-skin, and with +eyes like owls, would it not be better for Luisito to preach the gospel +in his own house, and to give me a series of little catechumens, fair, +rosy, with eyes like those of Pepita, who will resemble cherubim without +wings? The catechumens he would bring me from those foreign lands I +should have to keep at a respectful distance, in order not to be +overpowered by their odor; while those I speak of would seem to me like +roses of paradise, and would come to climb up on my knees, and would +call me grand-papa, and pat with their little hands the bald spot I am +beginning to get. What would you have? When I was in all my vigor, I did +not think of domestic joys; but now, that I am approaching old age, if I +have not already entered on it, as I have no intention of turning monk, +I please myself in thinking that I shall play the <i>rôle</i> of patriarch. +And do not imagine, either, that I am going to leave it to time to bring +to a happy close this incipient engagement. No! I shall myself set to +work to do this. Continuing your comparison, since you transform Pepita +into a crucible, and Luis into a metal, I shall find, or rather I have +found already, a bellows, or blow-pipe, very well adapted to kindle up +the fire, so that the metal may melt in it the more quickly. Antoñona +has an understanding with me already, and through her I know that Pepita +is over head and ears in love. We have agreed that I shall continue to +seem blind to everything, and to know nothing of what passes. The +reverend vicar, who is a simple soul, always in the clouds, helps me as +much as Antoñona does, or more, and without knowing it, because he +repeats to Pepita everything Luis says to him, and everything Pepita +says to him to Luis; so that this excellent man, with the weight of +half a century in each foot, has been converted—O miracle of love and +of innocence!—into a carrier-dove by which the two lovers send each +other their flatteries and endearments, while they are as ignorant as he +is of the fact. So powerful a combination of natural and artificial +methods ought to give an infallible result. You will be made acquainted +with this result when I give you notice of the wedding, so that you may +come to perform the ceremony, or else send the lovers your blessing and +a handsome present."</p> + +<p class="top5">With these words Don Pedro finished the reading of his letter; and, on +looking again at Don Luis, he saw that he had been listening to him with +his eyes full of tears.</p> + +<p>Father and son gave each other a long and close embrace.</p> + +<p class="top5">Just a month from the date of this interview, the wedding of Don Luis de +Vargas and Pepita Ximenez took place.</p> + +<p>The reverend dean—fearing the ridicule of his brother at the +spiritual-mindedness of Don Luis having thus come to naught, and +recognizing also that he would not play a very dignified <i>rôle</i> in the +village, where every one would say he had a poor knack at turning out +saints—declined to be present, giving his occupations as an excuse; +although he sent his blessing, and a magnificent pair of ear-rings as a +present for Pepita.</p> + +<p>The reverend vicar, therefore, had the pleasure of marrying her to Don +Luis.</p> + +<p>The bride, elegantly attired, was thought lovely by every one, and was +looked upon as a good exchange for the hair shirt and the scourge.</p> + +<p>That night Don Pedro gave a magnificent ball in the court-yard of his +house and the contiguous apartments. Servants and gentlemen, nobles and +laborers, ladies and country-girls were present, and mingled together, +as if it were the ideal golden age—though why called golden I know not. +Four skillful, or if not skillful at least indefatigable guitar-players +played a <i>fandango</i>. Two gypsies, a man and a woman, both famous +singers, sang verses of a tender character and appropriate to the +occasion; and the school-master read epithalamium in heroic verse.</p> + +<p>There were tarts, fritters, jumbles, ginger-bread, sponge-cake, and wine +in abundance for the common people. The gentry regaled themselves selves +with liquors, chocolate, orange cordial, honey, and various kinds of +aromatic and delicate punches.</p> + +<p>Don Pedro was like a boy—sprightly, gallant, and full of jests. It did +not look as if there were much truth in what he had said in his letter +to the dean in regard to his rheumatism and other ailments. He danced +the <i>fandango</i> with Pepita, as also with the most attractive among her +maids and with six or seven of the village girls. He gave each of them, +on reconducting her, tired out, to her seat, the prescribed embrace, and +to the least serious of them a couple of pinches, though this latter +forms no part of the ceremonial. He carried his gallantry to the extreme +of dancing with Doña Casilda, who could not refuse him; who, with her +two hundred and fifty pounds of humanity, and the heat of July, +perspired at every pore. Finally, Don Pedro stuffed Currito so full, and +made him drink so often to the health of the newly married pair, that +the muleteer Dientes was obliged to carry him home to sleep off the +effect of his excesses, slung like a skin of wine across the back of an +ass!</p> + +<p>The ball lasted until three in the morning; but the young couple +discreetly disappeared before eleven, and retired to the house of +Pepita. There Don Luis re-entered, with light, pomp, and majesty, and as +adored lord and master, the room which, little more than a month before, +he had entered in darkness, and filled with terror and confusion.</p> + +<p>Although it is the unfailing use and custom of the village to treat +every widow or widower who marries again to a terrible <i>charivari</i>, +leaving them not a moment's rest from the cow-bells during the first +night after marriage, Pepita was such a favorite, Don Pedro was so much +respected, and Don Luis was so beloved, that there were no bells on this +occasion, nor was there the least attempt made at ringing them—a +singular circumstance, which is recorded as such in the annals of the +village.</p> + + + +<h3><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>EPILOGUE.<br /> +LETTERS OF MY BROTHER</h3> + + +<p><span class="smcap">The</span> history of Pepita and Luisito should, properly speaking, end here. +This epilogue is not necessary to the story; but, as it formed part of +the bundle of papers left at his death by the reverend dean, although we +refrain from publishing it entire, we shall at least give a sample of +it.</p> + +<p>No one can entertain the least doubt that Don Luis and Pepita, united by +an irresistible love, almost of the same age, she beautiful, he brave +and handsome, both intelligent and full of goodness, would enjoy during +a long life as much peace and happiness as falls to the lot of mortals. +And this supposition, which, for those who have read the preceding +narrative, is a logically drawn deduction from it, is converted into a +certainty for him who reads the epilogue.</p> + +<p>The epilogue gives, besides, some information respecting the secondary +personages of the narrative, in whose fate the reader may possibly be +interested. It consists of a collection of letters addressed by Don +Pedro de Vargas to his brother the dean, dating from the day of his +son's marriage to four years later.</p> + +<p>Without prefixing to them the dates, although following their +chronological order, we shall transcribe here a few short extracts from +these letters, and thus bring our task to an end:</p> + +<p class="top5">Luis manifests the most lively gratitude toward Antoñona, without whose +services he would not now possess Pepita. But this woman, the accomplice +of the sole fault of which either he or Pepita had been guilty in their +lives, living as she did on the most familiar footing in the house, and +fully acquainted with all that had taken place, could not but be in the +way. To get rid of her, then, and at the same time to do her a service, +Luis set to work to bring about a reconciliation between her and her +husband, whose daily fits of drunkenness she had refused to put up with. +The son of Master Cencias gave his promise that he would get drunk +<i>hardly ever</i>; but he would not venture on an absolute and +uncompromising <i>never</i>. Confiding in this half-promise, however, +Antoñona consented to return to the conjugal roof. Husband and wife +being thus reunited, it occurred to Luis that a homeopathic principle of +treatment might prove efficacious with the son of Master Cencias, in +curing him radically of his vice; for, having heard it affirmed that +confectioners detest sweets, he concluded that, on the same principle, +tavern-keepers ought to detest whisky; and he sent Antoñona and her +husband to the capital of the province, where, at his own cost, he set +them up in a fine tavern. Both live there together happily; they have +succeeded in obtaining many patrons, and will probably become rich. He +still gets drunk occasionally; but Antoñona, who is the stronger of the +two, is accustomed at such times to give him a good trouncing, to help +on his cure.</p> + +<p class="top5">Currito, anxious to imitate his cousin, whom he admires more and more +every day, and seeing and enjoying the domestic felicity of Pepita and +Luis, has looked up a sweetheart in haste, and married the daughter of a +rich farmer of the place, health, fresh, red as a poppy, and who +promises soon to acquire proportions as ample as those of her +mother-in-law Casilda.</p> + +<p class="top5">The Count of Genazahar, after being confined to his bed for five months, +is now cured of his wound, and, according to what they say, is very much +improved in respect to his manners. He paid Pepita, a short time ago, +more than half of his debt to her, and asks for a respite in the payment +of the remainder.</p> + +<p class="top5">We have had a very great grief, although one that we had foreseen for +some time past. The father vicar, yielding to the advance of years, has +passed to a better life. Pepita remained to the last at his bedside, and +closed his eyes with her own beautiful hands. The father vicar died the +death of a blessed servant of the Lord. Rather than death, it seemed a +happy transit to serener regions. Nevertheless, Pepita and all of us +have mourned him sincerely. He has left behind him only a few dollars +and his furniture, for he gave all he had in alms. His death would have +made orphans of the poor of the village, if it were not that Pepita +still lives.</p> + +<p class="top5">Every one in the village laments the death of the reverend vicar; and +there are many who regard him as a real saint, worthy of religious +honors, and who attribute miracles to him. I know not how that may be, +but I do know that he was an excellent man, and that he must have gone +straight to heaven, where we may hope to have in him an intercessor. +With all this, his humility, his modesty, and his fear of God were such +that he spoke of his sins in the hour of death, as if he had in reality +committed any, and he besought our prayers to the Lord and to the Virgin +Mary for their forgiveness.</p> + +<p>A strong impression has been produced on the mind of Luis by the +exemplary life and death of this man. He was simple, it must be +confessed, and of limited intelligence, but of upright will, ardent, +faith, and fervent charity. When Luis compares himself with the vicar, +he feels humiliated. This has infused into his soul a certain bitter +melancholy; but Pepita, who has a great deal of tact, dissipates it with +smiles and caresses.</p> + +<p class="top5">Everything prospers with us. Luis and I have some wine-vaults than which +there are no better in Spain, if we except those of Xeres. The +olive-crop of this year has been superb. We can afford to allow +ourselves every species of luxury; and I counsel Luis and Pepita to make +the tour of Germany, France, and Italy, as soon as Pepita is over her +trouble, and once more in her usual health. The children may, without +improvidence or folly, throw away a few thousands of dollars on the +expedition, and bring back many fine books, pieces of furniture, and +objects of art, to adorn their dwelling.</p> + +<p>We have deferred the baptism for two weeks, in order that it may take +place on the first anniversary of the wedding. The child is a marvel of +beauty, and is very healthy. I am the godfather, and he has been named +after me. I am already dreaming of the time when Periquito shall begin +to talk, and amuse us with his prattle.</p> + +<p>In order that nothing may be wanting to the prosperity of this tender +pair, it turns out now, according to letters received from Havana, that +the brother of Pepita, whose evil ways we feared might disgrace the +family, is almost—and indeed without an <i>almost</i>—about to honor and +elevate it by becoming a person of eminence. During all the time in +which we heard nothing from him, he has been profiting by his +opportunities, and fortune has sent him favoring gales. He obtained +another employment in the custom-house; then he trafficked in negroes; +then he failed—an occurrence which for certain business men is like a +good pruning for trees, making them sprout again with fresh vigor—and +now he is so prosperous that he has formed the resolution of entering +the highest circles of the aristocracy, under the title of marquis or +duke. Pepita is frightened and troubled at this unexpected turn of +fortune, but I tell her not to be foolish: if her brother is, and must +in any case be, a rascal, is it not better that he should at least be a +fortunate one?</p> + +<p class="top5">We might thus go on making extracts did we not fear to weary the reader. +We shall end, then, by copying a few passages from one of the latest +letters:</p> + +<p class="top5">My children have returned from their travels in good health. Periquito +is very mischievous and very charming. Luis and Pepita come back +resolved never again to leave the village, though their lives should be +longer than were those of Philemon and Baucis. They are more in love +with each other than ever.</p> + +<p>They have brought back with them articles of furniture, a great many +books, some pictures, and I know not how many other elegant trifles, +purchased in the countries through which they have traveled, and +principally in Paris, Rome, Florence, and Vienna.</p> + +<p>The affection they entertain for each other, and the tenderness and +cordiality with which they treat each other and every one else, have +exercised a beneficent influence on manners here; and the elegance and +good taste with which they are now completing the furnishing of their +house will go far to make exterior culture take root and spread.</p> + +<p>The people in Madrid say that in the country we are stupid and uncouth; +but they remain where they are, and never take the trouble to come and +reform our manners. On the contrary, no sooner does any one make his +appearance in the country who knows or is worth anything, or who thinks +he knows or is worth anything, than he makes every possible effort to +get away from it, and leaves the fields and provincial towns behind him. +Pepita and Luis pursue the opposite course, and I commend them for it +with my whole heart. They are gradually improving and beautifying their +surroundings, so as to make out of this secluded spot a paradise.</p> + +<p>Do not imagine, however, that the inclination of Pepita and Luis for +material well-being has cooled in the slightest degree their religious +feelings. The piety of both grows deeper every day; and in each new +pleasure or satisfaction which they enjoy, or which they can procure for +their fellow-beings, they see a new benefaction of Heaven, in which they +recognize fresh cause for gratitude. More than this, no pleasure or +satisfaction would be such, none would be of any worth, or substance, or +value in their eyes, were it not for the thought of higher things, and +for the firm belief they have in them.</p> + +<p>Luis, in the midst of his present happiness, never forgets the +dethronement of the ideal he had set up for himself. There are times +when his present life seems to him vulgar, selfish, and prosaic, +compared with the life of sacrifice, with the spiritual existence to +which he believed himself called in the first years of his youth. But +Pepita hastens, solicitous, to dispel his melancholy on such occasions; +and then Luis comprehends and acknowledges that it is possible for man +to serve God in every state and condition, and succeeds in reconciling +the lively faith and the love of God that fill his soul, with this +legitimate love of the earthly and perishable. But in the earthly and +perishable he beholds the divine principle, as it were, without which, +neither in the stars that stud the heavens, nor in the flowers and +fruits that beautify the fields, nor in the eyes of Pepita, nor in the +innocence and beauty of Periquito, would he behold anything lovely. The +greater world, all this magnificent fabric of the universe, he declares, +would without its all-seeing God seem to him sublime indeed, but without +order, or beauty, or purpose. And as for the lesser world, as we are +accustomed to call man, neither would he love it were it not for God; +and this, not because God commands him to love it, but because the +dignity of man, and his title to be loved, have their foundation in God +himself, who not only made the soul of man in his own likeness, but +ennobled also his body, making it the living temple of the Spirit, +holding communion with it by means of the sacrament, and exalting it to +the extreme of uniting with it his uncreate Word. In these and other +arguments, which I am unable to set forth here, Luis finds consolation. +He reconciles himself to having relinquished his purpose of leading a +life devoted to pious meditations, ecstatic contemplation, and apostolic +works, and ceases to feel the sort of generous envy with which the +father vicar inspired him on the day of his death; but both he and +Pepita continue to give thanks, with great Christian devoutness, for +the benefits they enjoy, comprehending that not to their own merit do +they owe these benefits, but only to the goodness of God.</p> + +<p>And so my children have in their house a couple of apartments resembling +beautiful little Catholic chapels or oratories: but I must confess that +these chapels have, too, their trace of paganism—an +amorous-pastoral-poetic and Arcadian air, which is to be seen only +beyond city walls.</p> + +<p>The orchard of Pepita is no longer an orchard, but a most enchanting +garden, with its <i>araucarias</i>, its Indian fig-trees, that grow here in +the open air, and its well-arranged though small hot-house, full of rare +plants.</p> + +<p>The dining-room in which we ate the strawberries on the afternoon on +which Pepita and Luis saw and spoke with each other for the second time +has been transformed into a graceful temple, with portico and columns of +white marble. Within is a spacious apartment, comfortably furnished, and +adorned by two beautiful pictures. One represents Psyche, discovering, +by the light of her lamp, Cupid asleep on his couch; the other +represents Chloe, when the fugitive grasshopper has taken refuge in her +bosom, where, believing itself secure, it begins to chirp in the +pleasant hiding-place from which Daphne tries, meanwhile, to take it +forth.</p> + +<p>A very good copy, in Carrara marble, of the Venus de' Medici occupies +the most prominent place in the apartment, and, as it were, presides +over it. On the pedestal are engraved, in letters of gold, these words +of Lucretius:</p> + +<p class="poem"> +"<i>Nec sine te quidquam dias in luminis oras<br /> +Exoritur, neque fit lætum, neque amabile quidquam.</i>"<br /> +</p> + + +<p class="top15">THE END.</p> + +<hr class="full" /> + +<p class="c">PEPITA XIMENEZ.</p> + +<p class="c">From the Spanish of JUAN VALERA,</p> + +<p class="c"><span class="smcap">With an Introduction by the Author written specially for this edition.</span></p> + + +<p>"Pepita Ximenez," by Señor Don Juan Valera, recently Spanish Minister to +the Government of the United States, is the most successful of recent +novels in Spain, having attained a large number of editions in that +country, and been translated into German, French, Italian, and Bohemian. +Señor Valera is recognized as the most prominent literary man of the +time in Spain. A large number of volumes have come from his pen, all of +which enjoy a great popularity in the author's native land. The present +translation is authorized by Señor Valera, who is admitted by the +publishers to all the rights of a native author.</p> + +<p class="c"><b>12mo, paper cover. Price, 50 cents.</b></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c">ALIETTE</p> + +<p class="c">(La Morte).</p> + +<p class="c">From the French of OCTAVE FEUILLET,</p> + +<p class="c">Author of "The Romance of a Poor Young Man," etc., etc.</p> + +<p class="c"><i>From the London Athenæum.</i></p> + +<p>"Not often has a representative of the past in literature obtained a +more decided success over his younger rivals than M. Octave Feuillet has +obtained with 'La Morte.' Of the popularity of the book it is enough to +say that the fiftieth edition was advertised in Paris within two or +three weeks of publication. The important thing is not that 'La Morte' +has commanded so much success, but that it has deserved it. The story is +that of a hero who has two wives—the first an angel, and the second +something quite different from an angel. The first has been brought up +in the straitest sect of Catholics, the second has been educated to +science, and nothing but science. Of course, in this mere contrast there +is nothing very striking or original. But in the way in which M. +Feuillet has linked the fortunes of Bernard de Vaudricourt to the two, +in the gradual increase of the interest and of the tragic force of the +situation, and, lastly, in the writing itself, there is merit of a most +unusual kind."</p> + +<p class="c"><b>12mo, paper cover, 50 cents; half bound, 75 cents.</b></p> + +<p class="c">New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 3, and 6 Bond Street.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c"><i>A BRILLIANT NEW AMERICAN NOVEL</i></p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c">A CONVENTIONAL BOHEMIAN.</p> + +<p class="c">A NOVEL. By <span class="smcap">Edmund Pendleton.</span> 12mo. Cloth, $1,25.</p> + + +<p>"A Conventional Bohemian" is a society novel, the greater part of the +action taking place at summer cottages on the shores of New England. The +plot of the story is simple, the action direct, the movement often +dramatic. Although a society novel, it reaches at times the heights of +passion, and reveals a remarkable knowledge of the motives and conflicts +of the human heart. The style is noticeable for epigrammatic wit and +wisdom in the lighter scene, and for dramatic power in the serious ones. +There are a number of well-drawn characters, the heroine being a +peculiarly felicitous study, and the hero a virile and striking +portrait. It is a novel sure of many admirers among those who delight in +intellectual subtlety and artistic execution.</p> + +<hr /> +<p class="c"><i>"A POWERFUL, WELL-CONSTRUCTED STORY."</i></p> + +<p class="c">THE ALIENS.</p> + +<p class="c">A NOVEL. By <span class="smcap">Henry F. Keenan,</span> author of "Trajan," etc. 12mo. Cloth, +$1.25.</p> + +<p>"The Aliens" is a stirring, picturesque romance, depicting life and +character in strong contrasts, and marked by an affluent and vivid +style. The scene of the story is laid in the western part of the State +of New York, about fifty years ago—the events coming down to the time +of the Mexican War.</p> + +<p>"He colors richly, warmly, and with the dash of an artist; ... and his +characters grow, and are not manufactured; ... the freshest and most +readable American novel of the season."—<i>Philadelphia Bulletin</i>.</p> + +<p>"The prevailing merit of the story is the vivid sense of reality which +the writer gives to scenes and characters; ... above all things, +interesting."—<i>Rochester Post-Express.</i></p> + +<p>"Not second to 'Trajan' in character-painting, felicity of diction, +well-managed conversations, pathos, and humor."—<i>Journal of Commerce.</i></p> + +<p>"Thoroughly interesting in plot, and told with equal skill and +animation."—<i>Boston Gazette</i>.</p> + +<hr /> + +<p class="c">THE NEW TWENTY-FIVE CENT SERIES.</p> + +<hr /> +<p> +THE SECRET OF HER LIFE. By <span class="smcap">Edward Jenkins</span>, author<br /> +of "Ginx's Baby," etc.<br /> +<br /> +FOR MAIMIE'S SAKE. By <span class="smcap">Grant Allen</span>, author of "Babylon,"<br /> +etc.<br /> +<br /> +THE MASTER OF THE MINE. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Robert<br /> +Buchanan</span>.<br /> +<br /> +THE RABBI'S SPELL. A Russo-Jewish Romance. By <span class="smcap">Stuart<br /> +C. Cumberland</span>.<br /> +<br /> +A DARK HOUSE. A Knot Unravelled. By <span class="smcap">G. Manville Fenn</span>.<br /> +<br /> +A VAGRANT WIFE. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Florence Warden</span>, author<br /> +of "The House on the Marsh," "A Prince of Darkness," etc., etc.<br /> +<br /> +A PRINCE OF DARKNESS. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Florence Warden</span>,<br /> +author of "The House on the Marsh," etc.<br /> +<br /> +STRUCK DOWN. A Novel. By <span class="smcap">Hawley Smart</span>, author of "A Race<br /> +for a Wife," etc.<br /> +<br /> +THE MAURICE MYSTERY. A Novel. 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A Romance.<br /> +</p> + +<p class="c"><i>12mo, paper covers. Price, 25 cents each,</i></p> + +<hr class="full" /> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Pepita Ximenez, by Juan Valera + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEPITA XIMENEZ *** + +***** This file should be named 30236-h.htm or 30236-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/0/2/3/30236/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at DP Europe (http://dp.rastko.net) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Pepita Ximenez + +Author: Juan Valera + +Release Date: October 12, 2009 [EBook #30236] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PEPITA XIMENEZ *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at DP Europe (http://dp.rastko.net) + + + + + + + + + +PEPITA XIMENEZ + +FROM THE SPANISH OF +JUAN VALERA + +_WITH AN INTRODUCTION_ +BY THE AUTHOR +WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THIS EDITION + +NEW YORK +D. APPLETON AND COMPANY 1886 + +COPYRIGHT, 1886, +BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY. + + + + +AUTHOR'S PREFACE TO THE AMERICAN EDITION. + + +_To the Messrs. Appleton._ + +GENTLEMEN: It was my intention to write a preface for the purpose of +authorizing the edition you are about to publish in English of "Pepita +Ximenez"; but, on thinking the matter over, I was deterred by the +recollection of an anecdote that I heard in my young days. + +A certain gallant, wishing to be presented at the house of a rich man +who was about to give a magnificent ball, availed himself for that +purpose of the services of a friend, who boasted of his familiarity with +the great man, and of the favor he enjoyed with him. They proceeded to +the great man's house, and the gallant got his introduction; but the +great man said to him who had introduced the other, "And you, who is to +introduce you, for I am not acquainted with you?" As I entertain a +profound respect and affection for this country, and have not, besides, +the assurance that such an occasion would require, it would not do for +me to say what the _introducer_ of my story is said to have answered, +"I need no one to introduce or to recommend me, for I am just now going +away." + +I infer from my story, as its evident moral, that I ought to refrain +from addressing the public of the United States, to which I am entirely +unknown as an author, notwithstanding the fact of my having maintained +pleasant and friendly relations with its Government as the +representative of my own. + +The most judicious and prudent course I can adopt, then, is to limit +myself to returning you earnest thanks for asking from me an +authorization of which you did not stand in need, either by law or by +treaty, for wishing to make known to your countrymen the least insipid +of the products of my unfruitful genius, and for your generous purpose +of conceding to me author's rights. + +This, however, does not preclude the fact that, in thus expressing my +thanks to you publicly, I incur a responsibility which I did not assume +on any other occasion, either in Germany, Italy, or any other country +where my works have been translated; for then, if they failed to please +the public, although the fact might pain me, I could still shrug my +shoulders, and throw the blame of failure on the translator, or the +publisher; but in this case I make myself your accomplice, and share, or +rather receive, all the disgrace of failure, if failure there should be. + +"Pepita Ximenez" has enjoyed a wide celebrity, not only in Spain, but in +every other Spanish-speaking country. I am very far from thinking that +we Spaniards of the present day are either more easily satisfied, less +cultured than, or possessed of an inferior literary taste to, the +inhabitants of any other region of the globe; but this does not suffice +to dispel my misgivings that my novel may be received with indifference +or with censure by a public somewhat prejudiced against Spain by +fanciful and injurious preconceptions. + +My novel, both in essence and form, is distinctively national and +classic. Its merit--supposing it to have such--consists in the language +and the style, and not in the incidents, which are of the most +commonplace, or in the plot, which, if it can be said to have any, is of +the simplest. + +The characters are not wanting, as I think, in individuality, or in such +truth to human nature as makes them seem like living beings; but, the +action being so slight, this is brought out and made manifest by means +of a subtile analysis, and by the language chosen to express the +emotions, both which may in the translation be lost. There is, besides, +in my novel a certain irony, good-humored and frank, and a certain +humor, resembling rather the humor of the English than the _esprit_ of +the French, which qualities, although happily they do not depend upon +puns, or a play upon words, but are in the subject itself, require, in +order that they may appear in the translation, that this should be made +with extreme care. + +In conclusion, the chief cause of the extraordinary favor with which +"Pepita Ximenez" was received in Spain is something that may fail to be +noticed here by careless readers. + +I am an advocate of art for art's sake. I think it in very bad taste, +always impertinent, and often pedantic, to attempt to prove theses by +writing stories. For such a purpose dissertations or books purely and +severely didactic should be written. The object of a novel should be to +charm, through a faithful representation of human actions and human +passions, and to create by this fidelity to nature a beautiful work. The +object of art is the creation of the beautiful, and whoever applies it +to any other end, of however great utility this end may be, debases it. +But it may chance, through a conjunction of favorable circumstances, by +a happy inspiration, because in a given moment everything is, disposed +as by enchantment, or by supernatural influences, that an author's soul +may become like a clear and magic mirror wherein are reflected all the +ideas and all the sentiments that animate the eclectic spirit of his +country, and in which these ideas and these sentiments lose their +discordance, and group and combine themselves in pleasing agreement and +harmony. + +Herein is the explanation of the interest of "Pepita Ximenez." It was +written when Spain was agitated to its center, and everything was thrown +out of its regular course by a radical revolution that at the same time +shook to their foundations the throne and religions unity. It was +written when everything in fusion, like molten metal, might readily +amalgamate, and be molded into new forms. It was written when the strife +raged fiercest between ancient and modern ideals; and, finally, it was +written in all the plenitude of my powers, when my soul was sanest and +most joyful in the possession of an enviable optimism and an +all-embracing love and sympathy for humanity that, to my misfortune, can +never again find place within my breast. + +If I had endeavored by dialectics and by reasoning to conciliate +opinions and beliefs, the disapprobation would have been general; but, +as the conciliating and syncretic spirit manifested itself naturally in +a diverting story, every one accepted and approved it, each one drawing +from my book the conclusions that best suited himself. Thus it was that, +from the most orthodox Jesuit father down to the most rabid +revolutionist, and from the ultra-Catholic who cherishes the dream of +restoring the Inquisition, to the rationalist who is the irreconcilable +enemy of every religion, all were pleased with "Pepita Ximenez." + +It would be curious, and not inopportune, to explain here how it came +about that I succeeded in pleasing every one without intending it, +without knowing it, and, as it were, by chance. + +There was in Spain, some years ago, a conservative minister who had sent +a godson of his to study philosophy in Germany. By rare good fortune +this godson, who was called Julian Sanz del Rio, was a man of clear and +profound intelligence, of unwearied application, and endowed with all +the qualities necessary to make of him a sort of apostle. He studied, he +formulated his system, he obtained the chair of metaphysics in the +University of Madrid, and he founded a school, from which has since +issued a brilliant pleiad of philosophers and statesmen, and of men +illustrious for their learning, their eloquence, and their virtues. +Chief among them are Nicolas Salmeron, Francisco Giner, Gumersindo +Azcarate, Federico de Castro, and Urbano Gonzalez Serrano. + +The clerical party soon began to stir up strife against the master, the +scholars, and the doctrines taught by them. They accused them of +mystical pantheism. + +I, who had ridiculed, at times, the confused terms, the pomp of words, +and the method which the new philosophers made use of, regarded these +philosophers, nevertheless, with admiration, and took up their +defense--an almost solitary champion--in periodicals and reviews. + +I had already maintained, before this, that our great dogmatic +theologians, and especially the celebrated Domingo de Soto, were more +liberal than the liberal rationalists of the present day, affirming, as +they do, the sovereignty of the people by divine right; for if, as St. +Paul declares, all authority proceeds from God, it does so through the +medium of the people whom God inspires to found it; and because the only +authority that proceeds directly from God is that of the Church. + +I then set myself to demonstrate that, if Sanz del Rio and his followers +were pantheists, our mystical theologians of the sixteenth and +seventeenth centuries were pantheists also; and that, if the former had +for predecessors Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, and Krause, St. Theresa, St. +John de la Cruz, and the inspired and ecstatic Father Miguel de la +Fuente followed, as their model, Tauler and others of the Germans. In +saying this, however, it was not my intention to deny the claims of any +of these mystical writers as founders of their school in Spain, but only +to recognize, in this unbroken transmission of doctrine, the progressive +continuity of European civilization. + +For the purpose of carrying forward my undertaking, I read and studied +with ardor every Spanish book on devotion, asceticism, and mysticism +that fell into my hands, growing every day more charmed with the +richness of our literature in such works; with the treasures of poetry +contained in them; with the boldness and independence of their authors; +with the profound and delicate observation, in which they excel the +Scotch school, that they display in examining the faculties of the soul; +and with their power of entering into themselves, of penetrating to the +very center of the mind, in order there to behold God, and to unite +themselves with God, not therefore losing their own personality, or +their capacity for an active life, but issuing from the ecstasies and +ravishments of divine love more apt than before for every work that can +benefit the human species, as the steel is more finely tempered, +polished, and bright after it has burned in the fires of the forge. + +Of all this, on its most poetic and easily understood side, I wished to +give a specimen to the Spanish public of to-day, who had forgotten it; +but, as I was a man of my epoch, a layman, not very exemplary as regards +penitential practices, and had the reputation of a freethinker, I did +not venture to undertake doing this in my own name, and I created a +theological student who should do it in his. I then fancied that I could +paint with more vividness the ideas and the feelings of this student by +contrasting them with an earthly love; and this was the origin of +"Pepita Ximenez." Thus, when it was farthest from my thoughts, did I +become a novelist. My novel had, therefore, the freshness and the +spontaneity of the unpremeditated. + +The novels I wrote afterward, with premeditation, are inferior to this +one. + +"Pepita Ximenez" pleased the public also, as I have said, by its +transcendentalism. + +The rationalists supposed that I had rejected the old ideals, as my hero +casts off the clerical garb. And the believers, with greater unanimity +and truth, compared me to the false prophet who went forth to curse the +people of Israel, and without intending it exalted and blessed them. +What is certain is that, if it be allowable to draw any conclusion from +a story, the inference that may be deduced from mine is, that faith in +an all-seeing and personal God, and in the lore of this God, who is +present in the depths of the soul, even when we refuse to follow the +higher vocation to which he would persuade and solicit us--even were we +carried away by the violence of mundane passions to commit, like Don +Luis, almost all the capital sins in a single day--elevates the soul, +purifies the other emotions, sustains human dignity, and lends poetry, +nobility, and holiness to the commonest state, condition, and manner of +life. + +Such is, in my opinion, the novel you are now about to present to the +American public; for I repeat that I have not the right to make the +presentation. + +Perhaps, independent of its transcendentalism, my novel may serve to +interest and amuse your public for a couple of hours, and may obtain +some favor with it; for it is a public that reads a great deal, that is +indulgent, and that differs from the English public--which is eminently +exclusive in its tastes--by its generous and cosmopolitan spirit. + +I have always regarded as a delusion of national vanity the belief that +there is, or the hope that there ever will be, anything that, with +legitimate and candid independence, may be called American literature. +Greece diffused herself throughout the world in nourishing colonies, +and, after the conquests of Alexander, founded powerful states in Egypt, +in Syria, and even in Bactriana, among peoples who, unlike the American +Indians, possessed a high civilization of their own. But, +notwithstanding this dispersion, and this political severance from the +mother-country, the literature of Syracuse, of Antioch, and of +Alexandria was as much Greek literature as was the literature of Athens. +In my opinion, then, and for the same reason, the literature of New York +and Boston will continue to be as much English literature as the +literature of London and Edinburgh; the literature of Mexico and Buenos +Ayres will continue to be as much Spanish literature as the literature +of Madrid; the literature of Rio Janeiro will be as much Portuguese +literature as the literature of Lisbon. Political union may be severed, +but, between peoples of the same tongue and the same race, the ties of +spiritual fraternity are indissoluble, so long as their common +civilization lasts. There are immortal kings or emperors who reign and +rule in America by true divine right, and against whom no Washington or +Bolivar shall prevail--no Franklin succeed in plucking from them their +scepter. These tyrants are called Miguel de Cervantes, William +Shakespeare, and Luiz de Camoens. + +All this does not prevent the new nation from bringing to the common +fund, and _pro indiviso_, of the culture of their race, rich elements, +fine traits of character, and perhaps even higher qualities. Thus it is +that I observe, in this American literature, of English origin and +language, a certain largeness of views, a certain cosmopolitanism and +affectionate comprehension of what is foreign, broad as the continent +itself which the Americans inhabit, and which forms a contrast to the +narrow exclusivism of the insular English. It is because of these +qualities that I venture to hope now for a favorable reception of my +little book; and it is in these qualities that I found my hope that the +fruits of Spanish genius in general will, in future, be better known and +more highly esteemed here than in Great Britain. + +Already, to some extent, Irving, Prescott, Ticknor, Longfellow, Howells, +and others have contributed, with judgment and discretion, translating, +criticising, and eulogizing our authors, to the realization of this +hope. + +Forgive my wearying you with this long letter, and believe me to be +sincerely yours, + +JUAN VALERA. + +NEW YORK, _April 18, 1886._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + + PAGE + +LETTER OF THE AUTHOR iii + +PEPITA XIMENEZ 1 + +I--LETTERS OF MY NEPHEW 4 + +II.--PARALIPOMENA 129 + +III.--EPILOGUE. (LETTERS OF MY BROTHER) 263 + + + + +PEPITA XIMENEZ + +"_Nescit labi virtus._" + + +The reverend Dean of the Cathedral of ------, deceased a few years since, +left among his papers a bundle of manuscript, tied together, which, +passing from hand to hand, finally fell into mine, without, by some +strange chance, having lost a single one of the documents contained in +it. Inscribed on this manuscript were the Latin words I use above as a +motto, but without the addition of the woman's name I now prefix to it +as its title; and this inscription has probably contributed to the +preservation of the papers, since, thinking them, no doubt, to be +sermons, or other theological matter, no one before me had made any +attempt to untie the string of the package, or to read a single page of +it. + +The manuscript is in three parts. The first is entitled "Letters from my +Nephew"; the second, "Paralipomena"; and the third, "Epilogue--Letters +from my Brother." + +All three are in the same handwriting, which, it may be inferred, is +that of the reverend dean; and, as taken together they form something +like a novel, I at first thought that perhaps the reverend dean wished +to exercise his genius in composing one in his leisure hours; but, +looking at the matter more closely, and observing the natural simplicity +of the style, I am inclined to think now that it is no novel at all, but +that the letters are copies of genuine epistles which the reverend dean +tore up, burned, or returned to their owners, and that the narrative +part only, designated by the biblical title of "Paralipomena," is the +work of the reverend dean, added for the purpose of completing the story +with incidents not related in the letters. + +However this may be, I confess that I did not find the reading of these +papers tiresome; I found them, indeed, rather interesting than +otherwise; and as nowadays everything is published, I have decided to +publish them too, without further investigation, changing only the +proper names, so that if those who bear them be still living they may +not find themselves figuring in a book without desiring or consenting to +it. + +The letters contained in the first part seem to have been written by a +very young man, with some theoretical but no practical knowledge of the +world, whose life was passed in the house of the reverend dean, his +uncle, and in the seminary, and who was imbued with an exalted religious +fervor and an earnest desire to be a priest. + +We shall call this young man Don Luis de Vargas. + +The aforesaid manuscript, faithfully transferred to print, is as +follows. + + + + +I. + +LETTERS FROM MY NEPHEW. + + +_March 22d._ + +DEAR UNCLE AND VENERABLE MASTER: + +Four days ago I arrived in safety at this my native village, where I +found my father, the reverend vicar, our friends and relations all in +good health. The happiness of seeing them and conversing with them has +so completely occupied my time and thoughts, that I have not been able +to write to you until now. + +You will pardon me for this. + +Having left this place a mere child, and coming back a man, the +impression produced upon me by all those objects that I had treasured up +in my memory is a singular one. Everything appears to me more +diminutive, much more diminutive, but also more pleasing to the eye, +than my recollection of it. My father's house, which in my imagination +was immense, is, indeed, the large house of a rich husbandman, but still +much smaller than the seminary. What I now understand and appreciate +better than formerly is the country around here. The orchards, above +all, are delightful. What charming paths there are through them! On one +side, and sometimes on both, crystal waters flow with a pleasant murmur. +The banks of these streams are covered with odorous herbs and flowers of +a thousand different hues. In a few minutes one may gather a large bunch +of violets. The paths are shaded by majestic trees, chiefly walnut and +fig trees; and the hedges are formed of blackberry-bushes, roses, +pomegranates, and honeysuckle. + +The multitude of birds that enliven grove and field is marvelous. + +I am enchanted with the orchards, and I spend a couple of hours walking +in them every afternoon. + +My father wishes to take me to see his olive-plantations, his vineyards, +his farm-houses; but of all this we have as yet seen nothing. I have not +been outside of the village and the charming orchards that surround it. + +It is true, indeed, that the numerous visits I receive do not leave me a +moment to myself. + +Five different women have come to see me, all of whom were my nurses, +and have embraced and kissed me. + +Every one calls me Luisito, or Don Pedro's boy, although I have passed +my twenty-second birthday; and every one inquires of my father for _the +boy_, when I am not present. + +I imagine I shall make but little use of the books I have brought with +me to read, as I am not left alone for a single instant. + +The dignity of squire, which I supposed to be a matter for jest, is, on +the contrary, a serious matter. My father is the squire of the village. + +There is hardly any one here who can understand what they call my +caprice of entering the priesthood, and these good people tell me, with +rustic candor, that I ought to throw aside the clerical garb; that to be +a priest is very well for a poor young man, but that I, who am to be a +rich man's heir, should marry, and console the old age of my father by +giving him half a dozen handsome and robust grandchildren. + +In order to flatter my father and myself, both men and women declare +that I am a splendid fellow, that I am of an angelic disposition, that I +have a very roguish pair of eyes, and other stupid things of a like kind +that annoy, disgust, and humiliate me, although I am not very modest, +and am too well acquainted with the meanness and folly of the world to +be shocked or frightened at anything. + +The only defect they find in me is that I am too thin through +over-study. In order to have me grow fat they propose not to allow me +either to study or even to look at a book while I remain here; and, +besides this, to make me eat of as many choice dishes of meats and +confectionery as they know how to concoct in the village. + +It is quite clear--I am to be stall-fed. There is not a single family of +our acquaintance that has not sent me some token of regard. Now it is a +sponge-cake, now a meat-salad, now a pyramid of sweetmeats, now a jug of +sirup. + +And these presents which they send to the house are not the only +attentions they show me. I have also been invited to dinner by three or +four of the principal persons of the village. + +To-morrow I am to dine at the house of the famous Pepita Ximenez, of +whom you have doubtless heard. No one here is ignorant of the fact that +my father is paying her his addresses. + +My father, notwithstanding his fifty-five years, is so well preserved +that the finest young men of the village might feel envious of him. He +possesses, besides, the powerful attraction, irresistible to some women, +of his past conquests, of his celebrity, of having been a sort of Don +Juan Tenorio. + +I have not yet made the acquaintance of Pepita Ximenez. Every one says +she is very beautiful. I suspect she will turn out to be a village +beauty, and somewhat rustic. From what I have heard of her I can not +quite decide whether, ethically speaking, she is good or bad; but I am +quite certain that she is possessed of great natural intelligence. +Pepita is about twenty years old and a widow; her married life lasted +only three years. She was the daughter of Dona Francisca Galvez, the +widow, as you know, of a retired captain + + "Who left her at his death, + As sole inheritance, his honorable sword," + +as the poet says. Until her sixteenth year Pepita lived with her mother +in very straitened circumstances--bordering, indeed, upon absolute want. + +She had an uncle called Don Gumersindo, the possessor of a small +entailed estate, one of those petty estates that, in olden times, owed +their foundation to a foolish vanity. Any ordinary person, with the +income derived from this estate, would have lived in continual +difficulties, burdened by debts, and altogether cut off from the display +and ceremony proper to his rank. But Don Gumersindo was an extraordinary +person--the very genius of economy. It could not be said of him that he +created wealth himself, but he was endowed with a wonderful faculty of +absorption with respect to the wealth of others; and, in regard to +dispensing, it would be difficult to find any one on the face of the +globe with whose maintenance, preservation, and comfort, Mother Nature +and human industry ever had less reason to trouble themselves. No one +knows how he lived; but the fact is that he reached the age of eighty +years, saving his entire income, and adding to his capital by lending +money on unquestionable security. No one here speaks of him as a usurer; +on the contrary, he is considered to have been of a charitable +disposition, because, being moderate in all things, he was so even in +usury; and would ask only ten per cent a year, while throughout the +district they ask twenty and even thirty per cent, and still think it +little. + +In the practice of this species of industry and economy, and with +thoughts dwelling constantly on increasing instead of diminishing his +capital, indulging neither in the luxury of matrimony and of having a +family, nor even of smoking, Don Gumersindo arrived at the age I have +mentioned, the possessor of a fortune considerable anywhere, and here +regarded as enormous, thanks to the poverty of these villagers, and to +the habit of exaggeration natural to the Andalusians. + +Don Gumersindo, always extremely neat and clean in his person, was an +old man who did not inspire repugnance. + +The articles of his modest wardrobe were somewhat worn, but carefully +brushed, and without a stain; although from time immemorial he had +always been seen with the same cloak, the same jacket, and the same +trousers and waistcoat. People sometimes asked each other in vain if +any one had ever seen, him wear a new garment. + +With all these defects, which here and elsewhere many regard as virtues, +though virtues in excess, Don Gumersindo possessed excellent qualities; +he was affable, obliging, compassionate, and did his utmost to please +and to be of service to everybody, no matter what trouble, anxiety, or +fatigue it might cost him, provided only it did not cost him money. Of a +cheerful disposition, and fond of fun and joking, he was to be found at +every feast and merry-making around, that was not got up by +contribution, which he enlivened by the amenity of his manners, and by +his discreet although not very Attic conversation. He had never had any +tender inclination for any one woman in particular, but, innocently and +without malice, he loved them all; and was the most given to +complimenting the girls, and making them laugh, of any old man for ten +leagues around. + +I have already said that he was the uncle of Pepita. When he was nearing +his eightieth year, she was about to complete her sixteenth. He was +rich; she, poor and friendless. + +Her mother was a vulgar woman of limited intelligence and coarse +instincts. She worshiped her daughter, yet lamented continually and with +bitterness the sacrifices she made for her, the privations she +suffered, and the disconsolate old age and melancholy end that awaited +her in the midst of her poverty. She had, besides, a son, older than +Pepita, who had a well-deserved reputation in the village as a gambler +and a quarrelsome fellow, and for whom, after many difficulties, she had +succeeded in obtaining an insignificant employment in Havana; thus +finding herself rid of him, and with the sea between them. After he had +been a few years in Havana, however, he lost his situation on account of +his bad conduct, and thereupon began to shower letters upon his mother, +containing demands for money. The latter, who had scarcely enough for +herself and for Pepita, grew desperate at this, broke out into abuse, +cursed herself and her destiny with a perseverance but little resembling +the evangelical virtue, and ended by fixing all her hopes upon settling +her daughter well, as the only way of getting out of her difficulties. + +In this distressing situation Don Gumersindo began to frequent the house +of Pepita and her mother, and to pay attentions to the former with more +ardor and persistence than he had shown in his attentions to other +girls. Nevertheless, to suppose that a man who had passed his eightieth +year without wishing to marry, should think of committing such a folly, +with one foot already in the grave, was so wild and improbable a +notion, that Pepita's mother, still less Pepita herself, never for a +moment suspected the audacious intentions of Don Gumersindo. Thus it was +that both were struck, one day, with amazement, when, after a good many +compliments between jest and earnest, Don Gumersindo, with the greatest +seriousness and without the least hesitation, proposed the following +categorical question: + +"Pepita, will you marry me?" + +Although the question came at the end of a great deal of joking, and +might itself be taken for a joke, Pepita, who, inexperienced though she +was in worldly matters, yet knew by a certain instinct of divination +that is in all women, and especially in young girls, no matter how +innocent they may be, that this was said in earnest, grew as red as a +cherry and said nothing. Her mother answered in her stead: + +"Child, don't be ill-bred; answer your uncle as you should: 'With much +pleasure, uncle; whenever you wish.'" + +This "with much pleasure, uncle--whenever you wish," came then, it is +said, and many times afterward, almost mechanically from the trembling +lips of Pepita, in obedience to the admonitions, the sermons, the +complaints, and even the imperious mandate of her mother. + +I see, however, that I am enlarging too much on this matter of Pepita +Ximenez and her history; but she interests me, as I suppose she should +interest you too, since, if what they affirm here be true, she is to be +your sister-in-law and my step-mother. I shall endeavor, +notwithstanding, to avoid dwelling on details, and to relate briefly +what perhaps you already know, though you have been away from here so +long. + +Pepita Ximenez was married to Don Gumersindo. The tongue of slander was +let loose against her, both in the days preceding the wedding and for +some months afterward. + +In point of fact, ethically considered, this marriage was a matter that +will admit of discussion; but, so far as the girl herself is concerned, +if we remember her mother's prayers, her complaints, and even her +commands--if we take into consideration the fact that Pepita thought by +this means to procure for her mother a comfortable old age, and to save +her brother from dishonor and infamy, constituting herself his guardian +angel and his earthly providence, we must confess that our condemnation +will admit of some abatement. Besides, who shall penetrate into the +recesses of the heart, into the hidden secrets of the immature mind of a +young girl brought up, probably, in the most absolute seclusion and +ignorance of the world, in order to know what idea she might have formed +to herself of marriage? Perhaps she thought that to marry this old man +meant to devote her life to his service, to be his nurse, to soothe his +old age; to save him from a solitude and abandonment embittered by his +infirmities, and in which only mercenary hands should minister to him; +in a word, to cheer and illumine his declining years with the glowing +beams of her beauty and her youth, like an angel who has taken human +form. If something of this, or all of this, was what the girl thought, +and if she failed to perceive the full significance of her act, then its +morality is placed beyond question. + +However this may be, leaving aside psychological investigations that I +have no authority for making, since I am not acquainted with Pepita +Ximenez, it is quite certain that she lived in edifying harmony with the +old man during three years, that she nursed him and waited upon him with +admirable devotion, and that in his last painful and fatal sickness she +ministered to him and watched over him with tender and unwearying +affection, until he expired in her arms, leaving her heiress to a large +fortune. + +Although more than two years have passed since she lost her mother, and +more than a year and a half since she was left a widow, Pepita still +wears the deepest mourning. Her sedateness, her retired manner of +living, and her melancholy, are such that one might suppose she lamented +the death of her husband as much as though he had been a handsome young +man. Perhaps there are some who imagine or suspect that Pepita's pride, +and the certain knowledge she now has of the not very poetical means by +which she has become rich, trouble her conscience with something more +than doubt; and that, humiliated in her own eyes and in those of the +world, she seeks, in austerity and retirement, consolation for the +vexations of her mind, and balm for her wounded heart. + +People here, as everywhere, have a great love of money. Perhaps I am +wrong in saying, _as everywhere_; in populous cities, in the great +centers of civilization, there are other distinctions which are prized +as much as or even more than money, because they smooth the way to +fortune, and give credit and consideration in the eyes of the world; but +in smaller places, where neither literary nor scientific fame, nor, as a +rule, distinction of manners, nor elegance, nor discretion and amenity +in intercourse, are apt to be either valued or understood, there is no +other way by which to grade the social hierarchy than the possession of +more or less money, or of something worth money. Pepita, then, in the +possession of money, and beauty besides, and making a good use, as every +one says, of her riches, is to-day respected and esteemed in an +extraordinary degree. From this and the surrounding villages, the most +eligible suitors, the wealthiest young men, have crowded to pay their +court to her. But, so far as can be seen, she rejects them all, though +with the utmost sweetness, for she wishes to make no one her enemy; and +it is commonly supposed that her soul is filled with the most ardent +devotion, and that it is her fixed intention to dedicate her life to +practices of charity and religious piety. + +My father, according to the general opinion, has not succeeded better +than her other suitors; but Pepita, to fulfill the adage that "courtesy +and candor are consistent with each other," takes the greatest pains to +give him proofs of a frank, affectionate, and disinterested friendship. +She is unremitting in her attentions to him, and, when he tries to speak +to her of love, she brings him to a stop with a sermon delivered with +the most winning sweetness, recalling to his memory his past faults, and +endeavoring to undeceive him in regard to the world and its vain pomps. + +I confess that I begin to have some curiosity to know this woman, so +much do I hear her spoken of; nor do I think my curiosity is without +foundation, or that there is anything in it either vain or sinful. I +myself feel the truth of what Pepita says; I myself desire that my +father, in his advanced years, should enter upon a better life, should +forget, and not seek to renew the agitations and passions of his youth, +and should attain to the enjoyment of a tranquil, happy, and honorable +old age. I differ from Pepita's way of thinking in one thing only; I +believe my father would succeed in this rather by marrying a good and +worthy woman who loved him, than by remaining single. For this very +reason I desire to become acquainted with Pepita, in order to know if +she be this woman; for I am to a certain extent troubled--and perhaps +there is in this feeling something of family pride, which, if it be +wrong, I desire to divest myself of--by the disdain, however honeyed and +gracious, of the young widow. + +If my situation were other than it is, I should prefer my father to +remain unmarried. Then, being the only child, I should inherit all his +wealth, and, as one might say, nothing less than the position of squire +of the village. But you already know how firm is the resolution I have +taken. Humble and unworthy though I be, I feel myself called to the +priesthood, and the possessions of this world have but little power over +my mind. If there is anything in me of the ardor of youth, and the +vehemence of the passions proper to that age, it shall all be employed +in nourishing an active and fecund charity. Even the many books you have +given me to read, and my knowledge of the history of the ancient +civilizations of the peoples of Asia, contribute to unite within me +scientific curiosity with the desire of propagating the faith, and +invite and animate me to go forth as a missionary to the far East. As +soon as I leave this village, where you, my dear uncle, have sent me to +pass some time with my father, and am raised to the dignity of the +priesthood, and, ignorant and sinner as I am, feel myself invested, by +free and supernatural gift through the sovereign goodness of the Most +High, with the power to absolve from sin, and with the mission to teach +the peoples, as soon as I receive the perpetual and miraculous grace of +handling with impure hands the very God made man, it is my purpose to +leave Spain, and go forth to distant lands to preach the gospel. + +I am not actuated in this by any species of vanity. I do not desire to +believe myself superior to other men. The power of my faith, the +constancy of which I feel myself capable, everything after the favor and +grace of God, I owe to the judicious education, to the holy teaching, +and to the good example I have received from you, my dear uncle. + +There is something I hardly dare confess to myself, but which, against +my will, presents itself with frequency to my mind; and, since it +presents itself to my mind, it is my desire, it is my duty to confess it +to you: it would be wrong for me to hide from you even my most secret +and involuntary thoughts. You have taught me to analyze the feelings of +the soul; to search for their origin, if it be good or evil; to make, in +short, a scrupulous examination of conscience. + +I have often reflected on two different methods of education: that of +those who endeavor to keep the mind in innocence, confounding innocence +with ignorance, and believing evil that is unknown to be avoided more +easily than evil that is known; and that of those, on the other hand, +who courageously, and as soon as the pupil has arrived at the age of +reason, show him, with due regard for modesty, evil in all its hideous +ugliness and repulsive nakedness, to the end that he may abhor and avoid +it. According to my way of thinking, it is necessary to know evil in +order the better to comprehend the infinite divine goodness, the ideal +and unattainable end of every virtuously born desire. I am grateful to +you that you have made me to know, with the honey and the oil of your +teaching, as the Scripture says, both good and evil, to the end that I +should aspire to the one and condemn the other, knowingly and with +discreet ardor. I rejoice that I am no longer in a state of mere +innocence, and that I shall go forward in the progress toward virtue, +and, in so far as is permitted to humanity, toward perfection, with a +knowledge of all the tribulations, all the asperities that there are in +the pilgrimage we are called upon to make through this valley of tears; +as I am not ignorant, on the other hand, of how smooth, how easy, how +pleasant, how flowery, the road is, in appearance, that leads to +perdition and eternal death. + +Another thing for which I feel bound to be grateful to you is the +indulgence, the toleration, not condescending nor lax, but, on the +contrary, grave and severe, with which you have been able to inspire me +for the errors and the sins of my fellow-men. + +I say all this to you because I wish to speak to you on a subject of so +delicate a nature that I hardly find words in which to express myself +concerning it. In short, I often ask myself whether the resolution I +have adopted had not its origin, in part at least, in the character of +my relations with my father. In the bottom of my heart have I been able +to pardon him his conduct toward my poor mother, the victim of his +errors? + +I consider this matter carefully, and I can not find an atom of hatred +in my breast. On the contrary, gratitude fills it entirely. My father +has brought me up affectionately. He has tried to honor in me the memory +of my mother, and one would have said that in my bringing up, in the +care he took of me, in the indulgence with which he treated me, in his +devotion to me as a child, he sought to appease her angry shade--if the +shade, if the spirit of her who was on earth an angel of goodness and +gentleness, could be capable of anger. I repeat, then, that I am full of +gratitude toward my father; he has acknowledged me, and, besides, he +sent me at the age of ten years to you, to whom I owe all that I am. + +If there is in my heart any germ of virtue, if there is in my mind any +element of knowledge, if there is in my will any honorable and good +purpose, to you it is I owe it. + +My father's affection for me is extraordinary; the estimation in which +he holds me is far superior to my merits. Perhaps, vanity may have +something to do with this. In paternal love there is something selfish; +it is, as it were, a prolongation of selfishness. If I were possessed of +any merit, my father would regard it all as a creation of his own, as if +I were an emanation of his personality, as much in spirit as in body. Be +this as it will, however, I believe that my father loves me, and that +there is in his affection something self-sustaining, and superior to all +this pardonable selfishness of which I have spoken. + +I experience a great consolation, a profound tranquillity of +conscience--and for this I return most fervent thanks to God--when I +take cognizance of the fact that the power of blood, the tie of nature, +that mysterious bond that unites us, leads me, without any +consideration of duty, to love my father and to reverence him. It would +be horrible not to love him thus--to be compelled to force myself to +love in order to obey a divine command. Nevertheless--and here comes +back my doubt--does my purpose of becoming a priest or a friar, of not +accepting, or of accepting only a very small part of the immense fortune +that will be mine by inheritance, and which I might enjoy even during my +father's lifetime, does this proceed solely from my contempt of the +things of this world, from a true vocation for a religious life, or does +it not also proceed from pride, from hidden rancor, from resentment, +from something in me that refuses to forgive what my mother herself, +with sublime generosity, forgave? This doubt assails and torments me at +times, but almost always I resolve it in my favor, and come to the +conclusion that I have no feeling of pride toward my father: I think I +would accept from him all he has, if I were to need it, and I rejoice to +be as grateful to him for little as for much. + +Farewell, uncle; in future I will write to you often, and as much at +length as you recommend me, if not quite so much so as to-day, lest I +should appear prolix. + +_March 28th._ + +I begin to be tired of my stay in this place, and every day the desire +grows stronger within me to return to you and to receive my ordination; +but my father wishes to accompany me, he wishes to be present at that +solemn ceremony, and desires that I should remain here with him at least +two months longer. He is so amiable, so affectionate with me, that it +would be impossible for me not to gratify him in all his wishes. I shall +remain here, therefore, for the time he desires. In order to give him +pleasure I do violence to my feelings, and make an effort to seem +interested in the amusements of the village, the country sports, and +even shooting, in all of which I am his companion. I try to appear gayer +and more animated than I am by nature. As, in the village, half in jest, +half by way of eulogy, I am called the saint, I endeavor, through +modesty, to avoid the appearance of sanctity, or to soften and humanize +its manifestations with the virtue of moderation, displaying a serene +and decent cheerfulness which was never yet opposed to holiness nor to +the saints. I confess, nevertheless, that the merry-making and the +sports of these people, with their coarse jokes and boisterous mirth, +weary me. I do not want to fall into the sin of scandal, nor to speak +ill of any one, though it be only to you and in confidence, but I often +think that it would be a more difficult enterprise, as well as a more +rational and meritorious one, to preach the gospel to these people, and +try to elevate their moral nature, than to go to India, Persia, or +China, leaving so many of my country-people behind, who are, if not +perverted, at least to some extent gone astray. Many, indeed, are of the +opinion that modern ideas, that materialism and infidelity, are to blame +for this; but if that be the case, if they it be that produce such evil +effects, then it must be in some strange, diabolical, and miraculous +manner, and not by natural means; since the fact is that here the people +read no books, either good or bad, so that I do not well see how they +can be perverted by any evil doctrines the books in fashion may contain. +Can these evil doctrines be in the air, like a miasma or an epidemic? +Perhaps--and I am sorry this thought, which I mention to you only, +should occur to me--perhaps the clergy themselves are in fault. Are +they, in Spain, equal to their mission? Do they go among the people, +teaching and preaching to them? Are they all capable of this? Have those +who consecrate themselves to a religious life and to the salvation of +souls a true vocation for their calling? Or is it only a means of +living, like any other, with this difference, that in our day only the +poorest, only those who are without expectations and without means, +devote themselves to it, for the very reason that this calling offers a +less brilliant prospect than any other? Be that as it may, the very +scarcity of virtuous and learned priests arouses all the more within me +the desire to be a priest. I would not willingly let self-love deceive +me. I recognize all my defects, but I feel within me a true vocation, +and many of those defects it may still be possible, with the divine +help, to correct. + +The dinner at the house of Pepita Ximenez, which I mentioned to you, +took place three days ago. As she leads so retired a life, I had not met +her before; she seemed to me, in truth, as beautiful as she is said to +be; and I noticed that her amiability with my father was such as to give +him reason to hope, at least judging superficially, that she will yield +to his wishes in the end, and accept his hand. + +As there is a possibility of her becoming my step-mother, I have +observed her with attention; she seems to me to be a remarkable woman, +whose moral qualities I am not able to determine with exactitude. There +is about her an air of calmness and serenity that may come either from +coldness of heart and spirit, with great self-control and power of +calculating effects, accompanied by little or no sensibility, or that +may, on the other hand, proceed from the tranquillity of her conscience +and the purity of her aspirations, united to the purpose of fulfilling +in this life the duties imposed upon her by society, while her hopes are +fixed meantime upon loftier things, as their proper goal. What is +certain is that, either because with this woman everything is the result +of calculation, without any effort to elevate her mind to a higher +sphere, or, it may be, because she blends in perfect harmony the prose +of daily life with the poetry of her illusions, there is nothing +discernible in her out of tone with her surroundings, although she +possesses a natural distinction of manner that elevates her above and +separates her from them all. She does not affect the dress of a +provincial, nor does she, on the other hand, follow blindly the fashions +of the city; she unites both these styles in her mode of dress in such a +manner as to appear like a lady, but still a lady country-born and +country-bred. She disguises to a great extent, as I think, the care she +takes of her person. There is nothing about her to betray the use of +cosmetics or the arts of the toilet. But the whiteness of her hands, the +color and polish of her nails, and the grace and neatness of her attire +denote a greater regard for such matters than might be looked for in one +who lives in a village, and who is said, besides, to despise the +vanities of this world, and to think only of heavenly things. + +Her house is exquisitely clean, and everything in it reveals the most +perfect order. The furniture is neither artistic nor elegant, nor is it, +on the other hand, either pretentious or in bad taste. To give a poetic +air to her surroundings, she keeps in the saloons and galleries, as well +as in the garden, a multitude of plants and flowers. There is not, +indeed, among them any rare plant or exotic, but her plants and flowers, +of the commonest species here, are tended with extraordinary care. + +Canaries in gilded cages enliven the whole house with their songs. Its +mistress, it is obvious, has need of living creatures on which to bestow +some of her affection; and besides several maid-servants that one would +suppose she had selected with care, since it can not be by mere chance +that they are all pretty, she has, after the fashion of old maids, +various animals to keep her company--a parrot, a little dog whose coat +is of the whitest, and two or three cats, so tame and sociable that they +jump up on one in the most friendly manner. + +At one end of the principal saloon is a species of oratory, whose chief +ornament is an _Infant Jesus_, carved in wood, with red and white cheeks +and blue eyes, and altogether quite handsome. The dress is of white +satin, with a blue cloak full of little golden stars; and the image is +completely covered with jewels and trinkets. The little altar on which +the figure is placed is adorned with flowers, and around it are set pots +of broom and laurel; and on the altar itself, which is furnished with +steps, a great many wax tapers are kept burning. When I behold all this +I know not what to think, but for the most part I am inclined to believe +that the widow loves herself above all things, and that it is for her +recreation, and for the purpose of furnishing her with occasions for the +effusion of this love, that she keeps the cats, the canaries, the +flowers, and even the _Infant Jesus_ itself, which, in her secret soul, +perhaps, does not occupy a place very much higher than the canaries and +the cats. + +It can not be denied that Pepita Ximenez is possessed of discretion. No +silly jest, no impertinent question in regard to my vocation, and, above +all, in regard to my approaching ordination, has crossed her lips. She +conversed with me on matters relating to the village, about agriculture, +the last crop of grapes and olives, and the means of improving the +methods of making wine, expressing herself always with modesty and +naturalness, and without manifesting any desire of appearing to know +more than others. + +There were present at dinner the doctor, the notary, and the reverend +vicar, who is a great friend of the house, and the spiritual father of +Pepita. + +The reverend vicar must have a very high opinion of the latter, for on +several occasions he spoke to me apart of her charity, of the many alms +she bestows, of her compassion and goodness toward every one. In a word, +he declared her to be a saint. + +In view of what the vicar has told me, and relying on his judgment, I +can do no less than wish that my father may marry Pepita. As my father +is not fitted for a life of penance, in this way only could he hope to +change his mode of life, that up to the present has been so dissipated, +and settle down to a well-ordered and quiet, if not exemplary, old age. + +When we reached our house, after leaving that of Pepita Ximenez, my +father spoke to me seriously of his projects. He told me that in his +time he had been very wild, that he had led a very bad life, and that he +saw no way of reforming, notwithstanding his years, unless Pepita were +to fall in love with and marry him. + +Taking for granted, of course, that she would do so, my father then +spoke to me of business. He told me that he was very rich, and would +leave me amply provided for in his will, even though he should have +other children. I answered him that for my plans and purposes in life I +needed very little money, and that my greatest satisfaction would always +consist in knowing him to be happy with wife and children, his former +evil ways forgotten. My father then spoke to me of his tender hopes with +a candor and vivacity that might make one suppose me to be the father +and the old man, and he a youth of my age, or younger. In order to +enhance the merit of his mistress, and the difficulties of his conquest, +he recounted to me the accomplishments and the excellences of the +fifteen or twenty suitors who had already presented themselves to +Pepita, and who had all been rejected. As for himself, as he explained +to me, the same lot, to a certain extent, had been his also; but he +flattered himself that this want of success was not final, since Pepita +showed him so many kindnesses, and an affection so great that, if it +were not love, it might easily, with time, and the persistent homage he +dedicated to her, be converted into love. There was, besides, in my +father's opinion, a something fantastic and fallacious in the cause of +Pepita's coldness, that must in the end wear away. Pepita did not wish +to retire to a convent, nor did she incline to a penitential life. +Notwithstanding her seclusion and her piety, it was easy to see that she +took delight in pleasing. Her neatness and the exquisite care she took +of her person had in them little of the cenobite. The cause of her +coldness, then, my father declared to be, without a doubt, her pride--a +pride, to a certain extent, well founded. She is naturally elegant and +distinguished in appearance; both by her force of character and by her +intelligence she is superior to those who surround her, no matter how +she may seek, through modesty, to disguise it. How, then, should she +bestow her hand upon any of the rustics who, up to the present time, +have been her suitors? She imagines that her soul is filled with a +mystic love of God, and that God only can satisfy it, because thus far +no mortal has crossed her path intelligent enough and agreeable enough +to make her forget even her image of the _Infant Jesus_. "Although it +may seem to indicate a want of modesty on my part," added my father, "I +flatter myself with being such a one." + +Such, dear uncle, are the occupations and the projects of my father +here, and such the matters, so foreign to my nature, and to my aims and +thoughts, of which he speaks to me with frequency, and on which he +requires me to give an opinion. + +It would almost seem as if your too indulgent opinion of my judgment had +extended itself to the people here, for they all tell me their troubles, +and ask my advice as to the course they should adopt. Even the reverend +vicar, exposing himself to the risk of betraying what might be called +secrets of confession, has already come to consult me in regard to +several cases of conscience that have presented themselves to him in the +confessional. + +One of these cases, related, like all the others, with much mystery, and +without revealing the name of the person concerned, has greatly +interested me. + +The reverend vicar tells me that a certain penitent of his is troubled +by scruples of conscience, because, while she feels herself irresistibly +attracted toward a solitary and contemplative life, she yet fears at +times that this devout fervor is not accompanied by a true humility, but +that it is in part excited by, and has its source in, the demon of pride +himself. + +To love God in all things, to seek him in the inmost recesses of the +soul wherein he dwells, to purify ourselves from all earthly passions +and affections, in order to unite ourselves to him--these are, in truth, +pious aspirations and virtuous inclinations; but the doubt arises in +determining whether the source of these aspirations and inclinations be +not an exaggerated self-love. "Have they their origin," the penitent it +seems asks herself, "in the thought that I, although unworthy and a +sinner, presume my soul to be of more value than the souls of my +fellow-mortals?--that the interior beauty of my mind and of my will +would be dimmed by harboring affection for the human beings by whom I am +surrounded, and whom I deem unworthy of me? Do I love God above all +things, infinitely, or only more than the little things that I know, +and that I scorn and despise, that can not satisfy my heart? If my piety +is founded upon this feeling, then there are in it two great defects: +the first, that it is not based upon a pure love of God, full of +humility and charity, but on pride; and the second, that this piety, +because it is thus without foundation, is unstable and inefficacious. +For who can be certain that the soul will not forget the love of its +Creator, when it does not love him infinitely, but only because there is +no other being whom it deems worthy of endowing with its love?" + +It is concerning this case of conscience, refined and subtle enough thus +to exercise the mind of a simple rustic, that the reverend vicar has +come to consult me. I would have excused myself from saying anything in +the matter, alleging, as a reason for doing so, my youth and +inexperience; but the reverend vicar has shown himself so persistent in +the matter that I could do no less than discuss the question with him. I +said--and it would rejoice me greatly should you concur in my +opinion--that what this troubled penitent requires is to regard those +who surround her with greater benevolence; to try to throw over their +faults--instead of analyzing and dissecting them with the scalpel of +criticism--the mantle of charity, bringing into relief and dwelling upon +their good qualities, to the end that she may esteem and love them; to +endeavor, in fine, to behold in every human being an object worthy of +her love, a true fellow-creature, her equal, a soul wherein there is a +treasure of good qualities and virtues--a being made, in short, in the +image and likeness of God. Entertaining this exalted view of our +surroundings, loving and esteeming others for what they are, and as more +than they are, striving not to hold ourselves superior to them in +anything, but, on the contrary, searching courageously in the depths of +our own conscience for the purpose of discovering all our faults and +sins, and thus acquiring a devout humility and contempt of self, the +heart will feel itself full of human affection, and, instead of +despising, will value highly the worth of things and of persons, so that +if afterward divine love should, with irresistible power, erect itself +upon and tower above this foundation, there can then be no fear but that +such a love has its origin, not in an exaggerated self-esteem, in pride, +or in an unjust contempt for our neighbor, but in a pure and holy +contemplation of the Infinite Beauty and Goodness. + +If, as I suspect, it be Pepita Ximenez who has consulted the reverend +vicar in regard to these doubts and tribulations, I think my father can +not yet flatter himself with being very dear to her; but, if the vicar +should resolve on giving her my advice, and she accepts it and acts upon +it, then she will either become a sort of Maria de Agreda, a +self-conscious recluse, or, what is more probable, she will cast away +mysticism and coldness altogether, and will consent to accept, without +further caviling, the hand and heart of my father who is in no respect +her inferior. + +_April 4th._ + +My life in this place begins, from its monotony, to be wearisome; and +not because it is, physically, less active here than it was elsewhere, +for I walk and ride a great deal, and make excursions into the country, +and, to please my father, visit the club-house and go to parties, and +live, in short, in a state of dissatisfaction with myself and with my +surroundings. But my intellectual life is a blank; I read nothing, and +there is hardly a moment left me in which to reflect and meditate with +tranquillity; and, as reflection and meditation were what constituted +the chief charm of my existence, my life without them seems to me +monotonous. Thanks to the patience which you have recommended to me for +every occasion, I am able to endure it. + +Another thing that prevents my spirit from being completely at rest is +the longing, that becomes every day more ardent within me, to embrace +that life to which, without a moment's vacillation, I have been for +years inclined. It seems to me that, in those moments when I feel +myself so near to the realization of the constant dream of my life, it +is something like a profanation to allow my mind to be distracted by +other objects. So much does this idea torment me, and to so many doubts +does it give rise within me, that my admiration for the beauty of things +created--of the heavens so full of stars, in these serene nights of +spring, and in this favored region of Andalusia; of these smiling +fields, now covered with verdure, and of these cool and pleasant +gardens, abounding in shady and delightful walks, in gently flowing +streams and rivulets, in sequestered nooks, in birds that enliven them +with song, and in flowers and odorous herbs--this admiration and +enthusiasm, I repeat, which formerly seemed to me in perfect harmony +with the religious feeling that filled my soul, animating and exalting +it, instead of weakening it, seems to me now almost a sinful +distraction, and an unpardonable forgetfulness of the eternal for the +temporal, of the uncreated and the spiritual for the material and +created. Although I have made but little progress in virtue, although my +mind is never free from the phantasms of the imagination, although the +interior man is never exempt in me from the influence of external +impressions, and from the need of employing in meditation the fatiguing +argumentative method; although I can not, by an effort of love, withdraw +myself to the very center of pure intelligence, to the loftiest sphere +of thought, in order to behold there goodness and truth divested of +images and forms, yet I confess to you that the method of mental prayer, +unrestricted by set forms, makes me afraid. Even rational meditation +inspires me with distrust. I do not want to employ a process of +reasoning in order to know God, nor to adduce arguments for loving, in +order to love him. I desire, by a single effort of the will, to elevate +myself to and be absorbed in the divine contemplation. Oh, that I had +the wings of a dove, to fly to the bosom of him whom my soul loveth! But +what and where are my merits? Where the mortifications, the extended +prayers, and the fasting? What have I done, O my God, that thou shouldst +favor me? + +I know that the ungodly of the present day accuse--though without any +foundation whatever--our holy religion of inciting souls to abhor the +things of this world, to despise or to contemn nature, perhaps to fear +it also, as if there were in it something diabolical, placing all their +affections on what these ungodly call the monstrous egotism of divine +love, for it is herself, they say, the soul loves in loving God; I know, +too, that this is not the case; that the divine love is charity, and +that to love God is to love all things, for all things are in God, in a +supreme and ineffable manner. I know that I commit no sin in loving +material things for the love of God, which is to love them for +themselves, righteously; for what are material things but the +manifestation, the creation of the love of God? And, notwithstanding, I +know not what undefinable fear, what unwonted scruple, what vague and +scarcely perceptible remorse torments me now, when, as formerly, as in +other days of my youth, as in childhood itself, I feel an effusion of +tenderness, a sort of ecstasy of enthusiasm, on penetrating into some +leafy grove, on hearing the song of the nightingale, or the twittering +of the swallows, or the tender cooing of the dove; on looking at the +flowers, on beholding the stars. I imagine, at times, that there is in +all this something of sensual pleasure, a something that makes me +forget, for the moment at least, more lofty aspirations. I do not desire +that in me the spirit should sin against the flesh; but neither do I +desire, on the other hand, that the beauty of the material world--that +its delights, even those most delicate, subtle, and ethereal ones that +are perceived rather by the spirit than by the senses, such as the soft +sigh of the zephyr, laden with rural scents, the song of the birds, the +peaceful and majestic silence of the night in these gardens and +orchards--should distract me from the contemplation of higher beauty, or +weaken, even for a moment, my love toward Him who has created this +harmonious fabric of the world. + +I know that all these material things are like the letters of a book, +the signs and characters in which the soul, eager for knowledge, may +find a hidden meaning, and decipher and discover the beauty of God that, +though but dimly, is shadowed forth in them, and of which they are the +pictures or rather emblems, because they do not represent, but only +symbolize it. On this distinction I dwell at times to strengthen my +scruples and mortify the flesh. For, I consider, if I love the beauty of +earthly things as they are, it is idolatry; I ought to love this beauty +as a sign, as the symbol of a beauty occult and divine, and infinitely +superior to it in all things. + +A few days ago I completed my twenty-second year. Heretofore, my +religious fervor has been such that I have felt no other love than the +immaculate love of God himself and of his holy religion, which I desire +to diffuse and see triumphant in all the regions of the earth. I confess +that something of a profane sentiment has mingled itself with this +purity of affection. You are aware of this; I have told it to you many +times, and you, regarding me with your accustomed indulgence, have +answered me that man is not an angel, and that even to aspire to so +great a degree of perfection is pride; that I should endeavor to +moderate these sentiments rather than seek to eradicate them entirely. +Love of knowledge, a desire for the reputation which is founded on the +possession of knowledge, even a not unfavorable opinion of one's own +merits, these, even when kept within just bounds, though guarded and +moderated by Christian humility, and directed toward a good end, have in +them, doubtless, something of selfishness, but they may serve as a +stimulus and a support to the noblest and most constant resolutions. The +scruples that trouble my conscience now, therefore, have not their +source in pride, in an overweening self-confidence, in a desire for +worldly fame, or in a too great love of knowledge. Nothing of this +nature it is that troubles me; nothing bearing any relation to +self-conceit, but, in a certain sense, something entirely opposed to it. +I feel a lassitude, a debility and abandonment of the will so great--I +am so ready to weep for tenderness when I see a little flower, when I +contemplate the ray, mysterious, tenuous, and swift, of a remote +star--that it almost makes me afraid. + +Tell me what you think of these things; and if there be not something +morbid in this disposition of my mind. + +_April 8th._ + +The amusements of the country, in which, very much against my will, I am +compelled to take part, still go on. + +My father has taken me to see almost all his plantations, and he and his +friends are astonished to find me not altogether ignorant in matters +pertaining to the country. It would seem as if, in their eyes, the study +of theology, to which I have dedicated myself, were incompatible with a +familiarity with Nature. How much have they not wondered at my +knowledge, on seeing me discriminate, among the vines that have only +just begun to sprout, the common from the choice varieties! How much +have they not wondered, too, at my being able to distinguish, among the +young plants in the fields, the shoots of the barley from those of the +bean; at my being familiar with many fruit and shade trees; at my +knowing the names of many plants, even, that grow spontaneously in the +woods, as well as something of their properties and virtues! + +Pepita Ximenez, who has heard through my father of the delight I take in +the gardens here, has invited me to visit one that she owns at a short +distance from the village, and eat the early strawberries that grow +there. This caprice of Pepita's to show so many little attentions to my +father, while at the same time she declines his addresses, seems to me +at times to partake somewhat of coquetry, and to be worthy of +reprobation. But when next I see her, and find her so natural, so frank +and so simple, this bad opinion is dispelled, and I can not believe her +to have any other end in view than to maintain the friendly relations +that exist between her and our family. + +Be this as it may, yesterday afternoon we went to Pepita's garden. It is +charmingly situated, and as delightful and picturesque a place as one +can imagine. The river, that by means of innumerable drains waters +almost all these gardens, falls into a deep ravine, bordered on both +sides by white and black poplars, osiers, flowering oleanders, and other +leafy trees. The waterfall, clear and transparent, precipitates itself +into this ravine, sending up a cloud of spray, and then follows its +tortuous course by a channel formed for it by Nature herself, enameling +its banks with a thousand plants and flowers, and just now covering them +with a multitude of violets. The declivity at the end of the garden is +full of walnut, hazel, fig, and other fruit trees; and in the level +portion are beds planted with strawberries and vegetables, tomatoes, +potatoes, beans, and peppers. There is also a little flower-garden, with +a great abundance of flowers, of the kinds most commonly cultivated +here. Roses especially abound, and of these there are innumerable +varieties. The house of the gardener is prettier and cleaner than the +houses of its class that one is accustomed to see in this part of the +country; and near it there is another smaller building, dedicated to the +use of the mistress of the place, where Pepita regaled us with a +sumptuous collation. The pretext for this collation was the +strawberries, to eat which was the chief purpose of our visit. The +quantity of strawberries, considering the earliness of the season, was +astonishing. They were served with the milk of goats belonging also to +Pepita. + +There were present at this banquet the doctor, the notary, my aunt +Casilda, my father, and myself, and of course the indispensable vicar, +spiritual father, and, more than spiritual father, admirer and perpetual +eulogist of Pepita. + +By a sort of sybaritic refinement, it was not by the gardener, nor his +wife, nor the son of the gardener, nor by any other rustic, that we were +served at this banquet, but by two lovely girls, confidential servants, +in a manner, of Pepita's, dressed like peasants, but with the greatest +neatness and even elegance. They wore gowns of gay-colored percale, +short, and confined at the waist, and around their shoulders silk +handkerchiefs. Their lustrous and abundant black hair, without covering, +was braided and arranged in a knot behind; and in front they wore curls +confined to the head by large hair-pins, here called _caracols_. Above +the knot or _chignon_ they each displayed a bunch of fresh roses. + +Pepita's attire, except that it was black and of rich material, was +equally unpretending. Her merino gown, made in the same style as those +of her maids, without being short, was yet not long enough to catch the +dust of the ground. A modest handkerchief of black silk covered also, +according to the usage of the country, her shoulders and bosom; and on +her head she wore no other ornament, either flower or jewel, than that +of her own blonde tresses. + +The only particular, with respect to Pepita, in which I observed a +certain fastidiousness, and in which she departed from the customs of +the country-people, was in wearing gloves. It is evident that she takes +great care of her hands, and is, perhaps, to a certain extent, vain of +their beauty and whiteness, as well as of her rose-colored and polished +nails; but if this be so, it is to be pardoned to the weakness of the +flesh; and indeed, if I remember aright, I think that St. Theresa, in +her youth, had this same species of vanity, which did not prevent her, +however, from becoming a great saint. + +In truth, I can understand, even though I do not excuse, this little +piece of vanity. It is so distinguished, so aristocratic to possess a +beautiful hand! I even think, at times, that there is something +symbolic in it. The hand is the instrument by which we execute our +works, the sign of our nobility, the means by which the intellect gives +form and shape to its artistic conceptions, by which it gives reality to +the mandates of its will, by which it exercises the dominion that God +conceded to man over all other creatures. The rough, strong, sinewy, +horny hand, it may be, of a laborer, a workman, testifies nobly to this +dominion, but on its rudest and least intellectual side. The hands of +Pepita, on the contrary, transparent almost, like alabaster, but +rosy-hued, and in which one can almost see the pure and subtle blood +circulate that gives to the veins their faint, bluish tinge--these +hands, I say, with their tapering fingers, and unrivaled purity of +outline, seem the symbol of the magic power, the mysterious dominion, +that the human spirit holds and exercises, without the intervention of +material force, over all those visible things that are the creation of +God by a direct act of his will, and which man, as the instrument of +God, improves and completes. It would be impossible to suppose that any +one with hands like Pepita's should have an impure thought, a gross +desire, an unworthy purpose at variance with the purity of the hands +that would be called upon to put them into effect. + +It is unnecessary to say that my father appeared as much charmed with +Pepita, and she as attentive and affectionate toward him, as always; +though her affection seemed, perhaps, of a character more filial than he +could have wished. The fact is, that my father, notwithstanding the +reputation he has of being in general but little respectful or reverent +toward women, treats this one woman with such respect and consideration +that not even Amadis, in the most devoted period of his wooing, showed +greater toward Oriana. Not a single word that might shock the ear, no +indelicate or inopportune compliment, no coarse jest, of the kind the +Andalusians permit themselves so frequently to employ, does he ever +indulge in. Hardly does he dare say to Pepita, "What beautiful eyes you +have!" and, indeed, should he say so, he would only speak the truth, for +Pepita's eyes are large, green as those of Circe, expressive, and well +shaped. And what enhances their beauty is that she seems unaware of all +this, for there is not to be detected in her the slightest wish to +please or attract any one by the sweetness of her glances. One would say +she thought eyes were only made to see with, and for no other purpose; +the contrary of what I suppose to be the opinion, according to what I +have heard, of the greater number of young and pretty women, who use +their eyes as a weapon of offense, or as a sort of electric battery, by +means of which to subdue hearts and captivate them. Not like those, +indeed, are Pepita's eyes, wherein dwell a peace and a serenity as of +heaven. And yet it can not be said that there is anything of coldness in +their glance. Her eyes are full of charity and sweetness. They rest with +tenderness on a ray of light, on a flower, on the commonest object in +nature; but with greater tenderness still, with signs of a softer +feeling, more human and benign, do they rest on her fellow-man, without +his daring to imagine in that tranquil and serene glance, however young +or handsome or conceited he may be, anything more than charity and love +toward a fellow-man, or, at most, a friendly preference. + +I sometimes wonder if all this can be studied, and if Pepita be, in +truth, an accomplished actress; but the acting would be so perfect, and +so purposeless the play, that it seems to me, after all, impossible that +this should be the case. Nature herself it is, then, who serves as +teacher and as type for that glance and for those eyes. First, Pepita +loved her mother; then circumstances led her to love Don Gumersindo +through duty, as the companion of her existence; and then, doubtless, +all passion that any earthly object could inspire was extinguished in +her breast, and she loved God, and loved material objects for the love +of God; and so arrived at last at a peaceful and even enviable +condition of spirit, in which, if there be anything to censure, it is +perhaps a certain vanity of which she is herself unconscious. It is very +convenient to love in this mild fashion, without allowing ourselves to +be disturbed by our feelings, to have no passion to combat, to make of +our love and affection for others an addition to, and, as it were, the +complement of self-love. + +I ask myself at times if, when I censure this state of mind in Pepita, +it be not myself I censure. How do I know what passes in the soul of +this woman that I should censure her? Perhaps, in thinking I behold her +soul, it is my own soul that I behold. I never had nor have I now any +passion to conquer. All my virtuous inclinations, all my instincts, good +or bad, tend, thanks to your wise teachings, without obstacle or +impediment, to the furtherance of the one purpose. In the fulfillment of +this purpose, I should find not only my noble and disinterested desires, +but my selfish ones also, satisfied--my love of glory, my desire for +knowledge, my curiosity to see distant lands, my longing for name and +fame. All these are centered in the completing of the career upon which +I have entered. I fancy at times that, in this respect, I am more worthy +of censure than Pepita, supposing her even to be worthy of censure at +all. + +For, as regards myself, I have been invested with the lesser orders; I +have cast out from my soul the vanities of the world; I have received +the tonsure; I have consecrated myself to the service of the altar. Yet +I have a future full of ambition before me, and I dwell with pleasure on +the thought that this future is within my reach. I please myself in +thinking that the conditions I possess for it are real and efficacious; +though I call humility to my aid, at times, to save me from an +overweening self-confidence. + +To what, on the other hand, does this woman aspire, and what are her +hopes? I censure her for the care she takes of her hands, for regarding +her beauty, perhaps, with complacency; I almost censure her for her +neatness, for the attention she bestows on her dress; for a certain +indefinable coquetry there is in the very modesty and simplicity of her +attire. But what! must virtue be slovenly? Must holiness be unclean? Can +not a pure and clean soul rejoice in the cleanliness and purity of the +body also? Is there not something reprehensible in the displeasure with +which I regard the neatness and purity of Pepita? Is this displeasure, +perchance, because she is to be my step-mother? But, perhaps, she does +not wish to be my step-mother! Perhaps she does not love my father! It +is true, indeed, that women are incomprehensible. It may be that in her +secret heart she already feels inclined to return my father's +affection, and marry him, though, in accordance with the saying that +"what is worth much, costs much," she chooses first to torment him with +her affected coldness, to reduce him to unquestioning submission, to put +his constancy to the proof, and then means to end by quietly saying Yes. +We shall see. + +What there is no question about is, that our garden-party was decorously +merry. We talked of flowers, of fruit, of grafts, of planting, and of +innumerable other things relating to husbandry, Pepita displaying her +knowledge of agriculture in rivalry with my father, with myself, and +with the reverend vicar, who listens with open mouth to every word she +utters, and declares that in the seventy-odd years of his life, and +during his many wanderings, in the course of which he has traversed +almost the whole of Andalusia, he has never known a woman more discreet +or more judicious in all she thinks and says than she. + +On returning home from any of these excursions, I renew my entreaties to +my father to allow me to go back to you, in order that the wished-for +moment may at last arrive in which I shall see myself elevated to the +priesthood. But my father is so pleased to have me with him, he is so +happy here in the village, taking care of his plantations, exercising +the judicial and executive authority of squire, paying homage to Pepita, +and consulting her in everything as his Egeria, that he always finds, +and will find perhaps for months to come, some plausible pretext to keep +me here. Now he has to clarify the wine of I know not how many casks; +now he has to decant more wine still; now it is necessary to hoe around +the vines; now to plow the olive-groves and dig around the roots of the +olives; in fine, he keeps me here against my wishes--though I should not +say "against my wishes," for it gives me great pleasure to be with my +father, who is so good to me. + +The evil is, that, with this way of life, I fear I shall grow too +material. I am conscious in my devotions of a certain aridity of spirit. +My religious fervor diminishes; common life begins to penetrate, to +infiltrate itself into my nature; when I pray, I suffer distractions; in +my solitary meditations, when the soul should raise itself up to God, I +can no longer concentrate my thought as formerly. My sensibility of +heart, on the other hand, that refuses to occupy itself with any worthy +object, that does not employ and consume itself on its legitimate ends, +wells forth and, as it were, overflows, at times, for objects and under +circumstances that have something in them of puerile, that seem to me +ridiculous, of which I am ashamed. If I awaken in the silence of the +night and hear by chance some love-lorn rustic singing, to the sound of +his badly played guitar, a verse of a _fandango_ or a _rondena_, neither +very discreet, nor very poetical, nor very delicate, I am wont to be +affected as if I were listening to some celestial melody; a feeling of +pity, childish and insensate, comes over me at times. The other day the +children of my father's overseer stole a nest full of young sparrows, +and on seeing the little birds, not yet fledged, torn thus violently +from their tender mother, I felt a sudden pang of anguish, and I confess +I could not restrain my tears. A few days before this, a peasant had +brought in from the fields a calf that had broken its leg; he was about +to carry it to the slaughter-house, and came to ask my father what part +of it he wished for his table. My father answered, the head and the +feet, and a few pounds of the flesh. I was touched by compassion on +seeing the calf, and, but that shame prevented me, would have bought it +from the man, in the hope of curing and keeping it alive. In fine, my +dear uncle, nothing less than the confidence I have with you would make +me recount to you these signs of an extravagant and restless emotion, so +that you may judge by them how necessary it is that I should return to +my former way of life, to my studies, to my lofty speculations, and be +at last elevated to the priesthood, in order to provide with its fit and +proper aliment the fire that consumes my soul. + +_April 14th._ + +I continue to lead the same life as usual, and am detained here still by +my father's entreaties. + +The greatest pleasure I enjoy, after that of being with him, is my +intercourse and conversation with the reverend vicar, with whom I am in +the habit of taking long walks. It seems incredible that a man of his +age--for he must be near eighty--should be so strong and active, and so +good a walker. I grow tired sooner than he; and there is no rough road, +no wild place, no rugged hill-top, in the neighborhood, where we have +not been. + +The reverend vicar is reconciling me, in a great degree, with the +Spanish clergy, whom I have stigmatized, at times, in speaking with you, +as but little enlightened. How much more to be admired, I often say to +myself, is this man, so full of candor and benevolence, so simple and +affectionate, than one who may have read many books, but in whose soul +the flame of charity burns less brightly than, fed by the purest and +sincerest faith, it does in his! Do not suppose from this that the +understanding of the reverend vicar is a limited one; his is a spirit +uncultured, indeed, but clear and sagacious. At times I fancy that the +good opinion I entertain of him may be due to the attention with which +he listens to me; but, if this be not the case, it seems to me that he +reasons on every subject with remarkable perspicacity, and that he knows +how to unite an ardent love of our holy religion with an appreciation of +all the good things that modern civilization has brought us. I am +charmed, above all, by the simplicity, the sobriety of sentiment, the +naturalness, in short, with which the reverend vicar performs the most +disagreeable works of charity. There is no misfortune he does not seek +to alleviate, no suffering he does not strive to console, no error he +does not endeavor to repair, no necessity which he does not hasten +solicitously to relieve. + +In all this, it must be confessed, he has a powerful auxiliary in +Pepita, whose piety and compassionate disposition he is always +extolling. + +This species of homage which the vicar pays to Pepita is founded upon, +and goes side by side with, the practice of a thousand good works--the +giving of alms, prayer, public worship, and the care of the poor. Pepita +not only gives alms for the poor, but also gives money for _novenas_, +sermons, and other observances of the Church. If the altars of the +parish are gay, at times, with beautiful flowers, these flowers are due +to the bounty of Pepita who has sent them from her garden. If Our Lady +of Sorrows, instead of her old worn cloak, wears to-day a resplendent +and magnificent mantle of black velvet, embroidered with silver, Pepita +it is who has paid for it. + +These, and other similar acts of beneficence, the vicar is always +extolling and magnifying. Thus it is, when I am not speaking of my own +aims, of my vocation, of my studies, to hear about which gives the +reverend vicar great delight, and keeps him hanging upon my words, when +it is he who speaks and I who listen, that, after a thousand turns, he +always ends by speaking of Pepita Ximenez. And of whom, indeed, should +the reverend vicar speak to me? His intercourse with the doctor, with +the apothecary, with the rich husbandmen of the place, hardly gives +motive for three words of conversation. As the reverend vicar possesses +the very rare quality, in one bred in the country, of not being fond of +scandal, or of meddling in other people's affairs, he has no one to +speak of but Pepita, whom he visits frequently, and with whom, as may be +gathered from what he says, he is in the habit of holding the most +familiar colloquies. + +I know not what books Pepita Ximenez has read, nor what education she +may have received; but, from what the reverend vicar says, it may be +deduced that she possesses a restless soul and an inquiring spirit, to +which a multiplicity of questions and problems present themselves that +she longs to elucidate and resolve, bringing them for that purpose +before the reverend vicar, whom she thus puts into a state of agreeable +perplexity. + +This man, educated in country fashion, a priest whose breviary is, as +one may say, his library, possesses an understanding open to the light +of truth, but is wanting in original power, and thus the problems and +questions Pepita presents to him open before him new horizons and new +paths, nebulous and vague indeed, and which he did not even imagine to +exist, which he is not able to follow with exactitude, but whose +vagueness, novelty, and mystery enchant him. + +The vicar is not ignorant of the danger of all this, and that he and +Pepita expose themselves to fall, without knowing it, into some heresy; +but he tranquillizes his conscience with the thought that, although very +far from being a great theologian, he has his catechism at his fingers' +ends, he has confidence in God that he will illuminate his spirit, and +he hopes not to be led into error, and takes it for granted that Pepita +will follow his counsels, and never deviate from the right path. + +Thus do both form to themselves a thousand poetical conceptions, full of +charm, although vague, of all the mysteries of our religion and the +articles of our faith. Great is the devotion they profess to the most +holy Virgin, and I am astonished to see how they are able to blend the +popular idea or conception of the Virgin with some of the sublimest +theological thoughts. + +From what the vicar relates, I can perceive that Pepita Ximenez's soul, +in the midst of its apparent calmness and serenity, is transfixed by the +sharp arrow of suffering; there is in it a love of purity in +contradiction with her past life. Pepita loved Don Gumersindo as her +companion, as her benefactor, as the man to whom she owed everything; +but she is tortured, she is humiliated by the recollection that Don +Gumersindo was her husband. + +In her devotion to the Virgin there may be detected a feeling of painful +humiliation, of suffering, of sadness, produced by the recollection of +her ignoble and childless marriage. + +Even in her adoration of the _Infant Jesus_, in the beautiful carved +image she has in her house, there is something of maternal love that +lacks an object on which to expend its tenderness, of maternal love that +seeks this object in a being not born of sin and impurity. + +The vicar says that Pepita worships the _Infant Jesus_ as her God, but +that she also loves him with the maternal tenderness she would feel for +a son, if she had one, and whom she had no cause to regard with any +other feeling than affection. The vicar sees that Pepita, in her prayers +to the Holy Virgin, and in her care of her beautiful image of the Child +Jesus, has in her thoughts the ideal Mother and the ideal Son, both +alike immaculate. + +I confess that I know not what to think of all these singularities. I +know so little of women! What the vicar tells me of Pepita surprises me; +and yet, though on the whole I believe her to be good, rather than the +contrary, she inspires me at times with a certain fear on my father's +account. Notwithstanding his fifty-five years, I believe that he is in +love; and Pepita, although virtuous through conviction, may, without +premeditating or intending it, be an instrument of the spirit of evil, +may practice a species of coquetry, involuntary and instinctive, more +irresistible, efficacious, and fatal, than that which proceeds from +premeditation, calculation, and reasoning. + +Who knows, I say to myself at times, notwithstanding her prayers, her +secluded and devout life, her alms and her gifts to the churches, on all +which is based the affection that the vicar entertains for her, if there +be not also an earthly spell, if there be not something of diabolical +magic in the arts she practices, and with which she deludes and beguiles +this simple vicar, so that he thinks and speaks only of her on all +occasions? + +The very influence that Pepita exercises over a man so incredulous as my +father, a man whose nature is so vigorous and so little sentimental, +has in it, in truth, something extraordinary. + +Nor do the good works of Pepita suffice to explain the respect and +affection with which she inspires these country-people in general. On +the rare occasions on which she leaves her house, the little children +run to meet her and kiss her hand; the young girls smile, and salute her +with affection; and the men take off their hats, as she passes, and +incline themselves before her with the most spontaneous reverence and +the most natural good-feeling. + +Pepita Ximenez, whom many of the villagers have known since she was +born, and who, to the knowledge of every one here, lived in poverty with +her mother, until her marriage to the decrepid and avaricious Don +Gumersindo, has caused all this to be forgotten, and is now looked upon +as a wondrous being, a visitant, pure and radiant, from some distant +land, from some higher sphere, and is regarded by her fellow-townspeople +with affectionate esteem, and something like loving admiration. + +I see that I am inadvertently falling into the same fault that I censure +in the reverend vicar, and that I speak to you of nothing but Pepita. +But this is natural. Here no one speaks of anything else. One would +suppose the whole place to be full of the spirit, of the thought, of +the image, of this singular woman, in regard to whom I have not been +able to determine if she be an angel or an accomplished coquette, full +of _instinctive astuteness_, although the words may seem to involve a +contradiction. For I am fully convicted in my own mind that this woman +does not play the coquette, nor seek to gain the good-will of others, in +order to gratify her vanity. + +Pepita's soul is full of candor and sincerity. One has only to see her, +to be convinced of this. Her dignified and graceful bearing, her slender +figure, the smoothness and clearness of her forehead head, the soft and +pure light of her eyes, all blend into a fitting harmony, in which there +is not a single discordant note. + +How deeply I regret having come to this place, and having remained here +so long! I had passed my life in your house, and in the seminary; I had +seen and known no one but my companions and my teachers; I knew nothing +of the world but through speculation and through theory; and suddenly I +find myself thrown into the midst of this world, though it be only that +of a village; and distracted from my studies, meditations, and prayers +by a thousand profane objects. + +_April 20th._ + +Your last letters, dearest uncle, have been a welcome consolation to my +soul. Benevolent, as always, you admonish and enlighten me with prudent +and useful reflections. + +It is true, my impetuosity is worthy of reprobation. I wish to attain my +aims, without making use of the means requisite to their attainment; I +wish to reach the journey's end, without first treading, step by step, +the rough and thorny path. + +I complain of an aridity of spirit in prayer, of inability to fix my +thoughts, of a proneness to dissipate my tenderness on childish objects; +I desire to elevate myself to and be absorbed in God, to attain at once +to the contemplation of essential being, and yet I disdain mental prayer +and rational and discursive meditation. How, without attaining to its +purity, how, without beholding its light, can I hope to enjoy the +delights of divine love? + +I am by nature arrogant, and I shall therefore endeavor to humiliate +myself in my own eyes, in order that God may not suffer the spirit of +evil, in punishment of my pride and presumption, to cover me with +humiliation. + +I do not believe that it would be easy for me to fall into a lapse from +virtue so shameful and unexpected as the one you fear. I do not confide +in myself; I confide in the mercy of God and in his grace; and I trust +they will not fail me. + +Nevertheless, you are altogether right in advising me to abstain from +forming ties of friendship with Pepita Ximenez; I am far enough from +being bound to her by any tie. + +I am not ignorant that, when those holy men and saints, who should serve +us as models and examples, were bound in close intimacy and affection +with women, it was in their old age, or when they were already proved +and disciplined by penitence, or when there existed a noticeable +disproportion in years between them and the pious women they elected to +be their friends; as is related of St. Jerome and St. Paulina, and of +St. John of the Cross and St. Theresa. And even thus, even with a purely +spiritual affection, I know it is possible to sin through excess. For +God only should occupy the soul as Lord and Spouse, and any other being +who dwells in it should do so but as the friend, the servant, the +creation of the Spouse, and as one in whom the Spouse delights. + +Do not think, however, that I vaunt myself on being invincible, that I +despise danger, and defy and seek it. He who loves danger shall perish +therein. And if the prophet-king, though so agreeable in the sight of +God and so favored of him, and Solomon, notwithstanding his supernatural +and God-given wisdom, were troubled and fell into sin because God turned +his face away from them, what have not I to fear, miserable sinner that +I am, so young, so inexperienced in the wiles of the devil, and so +wavering and unpracticed in the combats of virtue! + +Filled with a salutary fear of God, and imbued with a fitting distrust +of my own weakness, I shall not be forgetful of your counsels and your +prudent admonitions; and I shall pray, meantime, with fervor, and +meditate on holy things, in order to abhor the things of the world, in +so far as they deserve abhorrence; but of this I may assure you: that, +however deeply I penetrate into the depths of my conscience, however +carefully I search its inmost recesses, I have thus far discovered +nothing to make me share your fears. + +If my former letters are full of encomiums on the virtue of Pepita, it +is the fault of my father and of the reverend vicar, and not mine; for, +at first, far from being friendly to this woman, I was unjustly +prejudiced against her. + +As for the beauty and physical grace of Pepita, be assured that I have +contemplated them with entire purity of thought, and, though it cost me +something to say it, and may cost you a little to hear it, I confess +that, if any cloud has arisen to dim the clear and serene image of +Pepita in the mirror of my soul, it has been owing to your harsh +suspicions, which, for an instant, have almost made me suspect myself. + +But no; what thought have I ever entertained with regard to Pepita, what +have I seen or praised in her that should lead any one to suppose me to +have any other feeling for her than friendship, and the admiration, pure +and innocent, that a work of art may inspire, the more especially if it +be the work of the Supreme Artist, and nothing less than the temple +wherein he dwells? + +Besides, dear uncle, I shall have to live in the world, to hold +intercourse with my fellow-beings, to see them, and I can not, for that +reason, pluck out my eyes. You have told me many times that you wish me +to devote myself to a life of action, preaching the divine law, and +making it known in the world, rather than to a contemplative life in the +midst of solitude and isolation. Well, then, this being so, how would +you have me act, in order to avoid seeing Pepita Ximenez? Unless I made +myself ridiculous by closing my own eyes in her presence, how could I +fail to notice the beauty of hers; the clearness, the roseate hue, and +the purity of her complexion, the evenness and pearly whiteness of her +teeth, which she discloses with frequency when she smiles, the fresh +carmin of her lips, the serenity and smoothness of her forehead, and a +thousand other attractions with which Heaven has endowed her? It is true +that for one who bears within his soul the germ of evil thoughts, the +leaven of vice, any one of the impressions that Pepita produces might be +the shock of the steel against the flint, kindling the spark that would +set fire to and consume all around it; but, prepared for this danger, +watching against it, and guarded with the shield of Christian prudence, +I do not think I have anything to fear. Besides, if it be rash to seek +danger, it is cowardly not to be able to face it, or to shun it when it +presents itself. + +Have no fear; I see in Pepita only a beautiful creation of God; and in +God I love her as a sister. If I feel any predilection for her, it is +because of the praises I hear spoken of her by my father, by the +reverend vicar, and by almost every one here. + +For my father's sake it would please me were Pepita to relinquish her +inclination for a life of seclusion, and her purpose to lead it, and to +marry him. But were it not for this--were I to see that my father had +only a caprice and not a genuine passion for her--then I should be glad +that Pepita would remain resolute in her chaste widowhood; and when I +should be far away from here, in India or Japan or some other yet more +dangerous mission, I might find a consolation in writing to her of my +wanderings and labors; and, when I returned here in my old age, it +would be a great pleasure for me to be on friendly terms with her, who +would also then be aged, and to hold spiritual colloquies with her, and +chats of the same sort as those the father vicar now holds with her. At +present, however, as I am but a young man, I see but little of Pepita; I +hardly speak to her. I prefer to be thought bashful, shy, ill-bred, and +rude, rather than give the least occasion--not that I should be thought +to feel for her in reality what I ought not to feel--but even for +suspicion or for scandal. + +As for Pepita herself, not even in the most remote degree do I share the +apprehension that, as a vague suspicion, you allow me to perceive. What +projects could she form with respect to a man who, in two or three +months more, is to be a priest! She--who has treated so many others with +disdain--why should she be attracted by me? I know myself well, and I +know that, fortunately, I am not capable of inspiring a passion. They +say I am not ill-looking; but I am awkward, dull, shy, wanting in +amiability; I bear the stamp of what I am, a humble student. What am I, +compared with the gallant if somewhat rustic youths who have paid court +to Pepita--agile horsemen, discreet and agreeable in conversation, +Nimrods in the chase, skilled in all bodily exercises, singers of renown +in all the fairs of Andalusia, and graceful and accomplished in the +dance? If Pepita has scorned all these, how should she now think of me, +and conceive the diabolical desire, and the more than diabolical +project, of troubling the peace of my soul, of making me abandon my +vocation, perhaps of plunging me into perdition? No, it is not possible. +Pepita I believe to be good, and myself--and I say it in all +sincerity--insignificant; insignificant, be it understood, so far as +inspiring her with love is concerned, but not too insignificant to be +her friend, to merit her esteem, to be the object, one day, in a certain +sense, of her preference, when I shall have succeeded in making myself +worthy of this preference by a holy and laborious life. + +I ask you to forgive me if I have vindicated myself too warmly from +certain half-expressed suspicions in your letter--suspicions that sound +like accusations, or like prophetic warnings. + +I do not complain of these suspicions: you have given me judicious +advice, the greater part of which I accept, and intend to follow; if you +have gone a little beyond what is just, in your suspicions, it is owing, +without doubt, to the interest you take in me, and for which I am +grateful to you with all my heart. + +_May 4th._ + +It is strange that in so many days I should not have had time to write +to you, but such is the fact. My father does not let me rest a moment, +and I am besieged by visitors. + +In large cities it is easy to avoid seeing visitors, to isolate one's +self, to create for one's self a solitude, a Thebaid in the midst of the +tumult; in an Andalusian village, and, above all, when one has the honor +of being the son of the squire, it is necessary to live in public. Not +only now to my study, but even to my bedroom, do the reverend vicar, the +notary, my cousin Currito, the son of Dona Casilda, and a hundred +others, penetrate without any one daring to oppose them, waken me if I +am asleep, and carry me off with them wherever they wish. + +The club-house here is not a place of amusement for the evening only, +but for all the hours of the day. From eleven o'clock in the morning it +is full of people, who chat, glance over a paper to learn the news, and +play at _hombra._ There are persons here who spend ten or twelve hours a +day at this game. In short, there is as much enjoyment here as one could +well desire. In order that this enjoyment may be uninterrupted, there +are a great many amusements. Besides _hombra,_ there are many other +games at cards. Checkers, chess, and dominoes are not neglected. And, +finally, there is a decided passion for cock-fighting. + +All this, together with making calls, going to the fields to inspect the +work, settling accounts every night with the overseer, visiting the +wine-vaults and cask-stores, superintending the clarifying, decanting, +and perfecting of the wines, treating with gypsies and horse-dealers for +the purchase, sale, or barter of horses, mules, and donkeys, or with +dealers from Jeres who come to buy our wine in order to convert it into +sherry, are here the daily occupation of the gentry, squirearchy, or +whatever else they may choose to call themselves. On extraordinary +occasions there are other tasks and amusements that give a greater +appearance of animation to everything: as in harvest-time, at the +vintage, and the gathering in of the olives; or when there is a fair or +a bull-fight, either here or in the neighboring village; or when there +is a pilgrimage to the sanctuary of some miraculous image of the Holy +Virgin, where, if it be true that many go through curiosity, or to amuse +themselves, and give to their sweethearts a fairing of a Cupid or a +scapula, many more go through devotion, or in fulfillment of a vow or +promise. One of these sanctuaries is situated at the top of a very high +mountain, yet there are delicate women who, to reach it, will climb, +with bare feet, wounded by the stones and brambles, the steep and +rugged path that leads to it. + +There is, in the life here, a certain charm. For one who has no desire +for fame, no ambition, I can understand that it might be a very easy and +agreeable life. Even solitude may be obtained by an effort. As I am here +only for a short time, I can neither make this effort, nor ought I to do +so; but if I were settled here, I should find no difficulty in secluding +myself--and that, too, without offending any one--for several hours, or +for the whole day, if it were necessary, in order to devote myself to my +studies and meditations. + +Your last letter has troubled me a little. I see that you persist in +your suspicions, and I know not what answer to make, in order to justify +myself, but the answer I have already made you. + +You say that the victory, in a certain kind of warfare, consists in +flight; that to fly is to conquer. Why should I seek to deny what the +apostle and so many holy fathers and doctors of the Church have said? +But you well know that, in this case, flight does not depend upon me. My +father is resolved that I shall not go; he keeps me here against my +will, and I must obey him. The victory must be gained by other means, +then, than by flight. + +To set your mind at rest, I repeat that matters have not gone so far as +you think; that you see them in a much more advanced stage than they +really are. + +There is not the slightest sign that Pepita Ximenez loves me. And even +did she love me, it would be in a different way from that in which those +women loved whom you cite as a salutary warning to me. A lady of our +times, virtuous and well brought up, is neither so susceptible nor so +wanting in decorum as those matrons of whose adventures ancient history +is full. + +The passage you cite from St. John Chrysostom is indeed worthy of +consideration; but it is not altogether applicable to the circumstances. +The great lady that in Of, Thebes, or Diospolis Magna, fell in love with +the favorite son of Jacob, was in all probability extremely handsome. By +such a supposition only can one comprehend the words of the saint, that +it was a greater miracle that Joseph should have passed through this +ordeal unscathed, than that the three young men whom Nebuchadnezzar +caused to be placed in the fiery furnace were not reduced to ashes! + +As far as beauty is concerned, I confess frankly that I can not think +that the wife of the Egyptian prince, chamberlain of the palace of the +Pharaohs, or whatever else may have been his title, was in any degree +superior to Pepita Ximenez. But neither am I endowed with as many gifts +and excellences as was Joseph, nor is Pepita a woman without religion +and without decorum. And even were the circumstances such as he relates, +were all those horrors true, I can only account for the exaggerated +language of St. John Chrysostom by the fact that he lived in the corrupt +capital, half Gentile still, of the Lower Empire, in the midst of that +court whose vices he so harshly censures, and where even the Empress +Eudoxia herself gave an example of scandal and corruption. + +But in our day, when the morality taught in the gospel has penetrated +more deeply into the strata of society, it seems to me an exaggeration +to think the chaste scorn of the son of Jacob any more miraculous than +the material incombustibility of the three young men of Babylon. + +There is one point on which you touch in your letter that encourages and +pleases me greatly. You condemn, as is right, the exaggerated +sentimentality, and the tendency to be easily moved and to weep from +childish motives, from which I told you that I suffered at times; but, +since this disposition of soul, so necessary to combat, exists in me, +you rejoice that it does not affect my prayers and meditations, and +contaminate them. You recognize and praise in me the virile energy that +should animate the passions and the mind that seek to elevate themselves +to God. + +The intelligence that strives to comprehend him must be a vigorous one; +the will that submits itself entirely to him must first have triumphed, +fighting bravely against every appetite, and defeating and putting to +flight every temptation over self. The very passion that, purified and +ardent, has power, even in weak and miserable mortals, to exalt itself, +by an ecstasy of love, to God himself, attaining by a supernatural +illumination to the knowledge of him, is the offspring of a steadfast +and upright character, as well as of the divine grace. This languor, +this debility of the will, this morbid tenderness have nothing in them +in common with charity, with piety, or with divine love. The former are +the attributes of a nature less than feminine; the latter are passions, +if passions they can be called, of angels rather than of men. God will +be my surety, and with his help I will fight for my own salvation. But, +should I sink into perdition, not in disguise nor by capitulation shall +the enemies of the soul and the sins of the flesh enter into the +fortress of my conscience, but with banners flying, laying waste +everything before them by fire and sword, and after a desperate +conflict. + +In the past few days I have had occasion to practice patience in an +extreme degree, and to mortify my self-love in the most cruel manner. My +father, wishing to reciprocate Pepita's compliment of the garden-party, +invited her to visit his villa of the _Pozo de la Solana_. The excursion +took place on the 22d of April. I shall not soon forget that date. + +The _Pozo de la Solana_ is about two leagues distant from the village, +and the only road to it is a bridle-path. We all had to go on horseback. +As I never learned to ride, I had on former occasions accompanied my +father mounted on a pacing mule, gentle and, according to the expression +of Dientes the muleteer, as good as gold, and of easier motion than a +carriage. On the journey to the _Pozo de la Solana_ I went in the same +manner. + +My father, the notary, the apothecary, and my cousin Currito, were +mounted on good horses. My aunt, Dona Casilda, who weighs more than two +hundred and fifty pounds, rode on a large and powerful donkey, seated in +a commodious side-saddle. The reverend vicar rode a gentle and easy mule +like mine. + +As for Pepita Ximenez, who, I supposed, would go also mounted on a +donkey, in the same sort of easy saddle as my aunt--for I was ignorant +that she knew how to ride--she surprised me by making her appearance on +a black and white horse full of fire and spirit. She wore a +riding-habit, and managed her horse with admirable grace and skill. + +I was pleased to see Pepita look so charming on horseback, but I soon +began to foresee and to be mortified by the sorry part I would play, +jogging on in the rear beside my corpulent aunt Casilda and the vicar, +all three as quiet and tranquil as if we were seated in a carriage, +while the gay cavalcade in front would caracole, gallop, trot, and make +a thousand other displays of their horsemanship. + +I fancied on the instant that there was something of compassion in +Pepita's glance as she noted the pitiable appearance I no doubt +presented, seated on my mule. My cousin Currito looked at me with a +mocking smile, and immediately began to make fun of me and to tease me. + +Confess that I deserve credit for my resignation and courage. I +submitted to everything with a good grace, and Currito's jests soon +ceased when he saw that I was invulnerable to them. But what did I not +suffer in secret! The others, now trotting, now galloping, rode in +advance of us, both in going and returning. The vicar and I, with Dona +Casilda between us, rode on, tranquil as the mules we were seated upon, +without hastening or retarding our pace. + +I had not even the consolation of chatting with the vicar, in whose +conversation I find so much pleasure, nor of wrapping myself up in my +own thoughts and giving the reign to my fancy, nor of silently admiring +the beauty of the scenery around us. Dona Casilda is gifted with an +abominable loquacity, and we were obliged to listen to her. She told us +all there is to be told of the gossip of the village; she recounted to +us all her accomplishments; she told us how to make sausages, +brain-puddings, pastry, and innumerable other dishes and delicacies. +There is no one, according to herself, who can rival her in matters +pertaining to the kitchen, or to the dressing of hogs, but Antonona, the +nurse of Pepita, and now her housekeeper and general manager. I am +already acquainted with this Antonona, for she goes back and forth +between her mistress's house and ours with messages, and is in truth +extremely handy; as loquacious as Aunt Casilda, but a great deal more +discreet. + +The scenery on the road to the _Pozo de la Solana_ is charming, but my +mind was so disturbed during our journey that I could not enjoy it. When +we arrived at the villa and dismounted, I was relieved of a great load, +as if it had been I who carried the mule, and not the mule who carried +me. + +We then proceeded on foot through the estate, which is magnificent, of +varied character, and extensive. There are vines, old and newly planted, +all on the same boundary-line, that produce more than a hundred and +twenty bushels of grapes; olive-trees that yield to the same amount; +and, finally, a grove of the most majestic oaks that are to be found in +all Andalusia. The water of the _Pozo de la Solana_ forms a clear and +deep brook at which all the birds of the neighborhood come to drink, and +on whose borders they are caught by hundreds, by means of reeds smeared +with bird-lime, or of nets, in the center of which are fastened a cord +and a decoy. All this carried my thoughts back to the sports of my +childhood, and to the many times that I too had gone to catch birds in +the same manner. + +Following the course of the brook, and especially in the ravines, are +many poplars and other tall trees, that, together with the bushes and +the shrubs, form a dark and labyrinthine wood. A thousand fragrant wild +flowers grow there spontaneously, and it would, in truth, be difficult +to imagine anything more secluded and sylvan, more solitary, peaceful, +and silent than this spot. The mind is invaded here, during all the +fervor of noonday, when the sun pours down his light in torrents from a +heaven without a cloud, by the same mysterious terror that visits it at +times in the silent hours of the night. One can understand here the +manner of life of the patriarchs of old, and of the primitive shepherds +and heroes; and the visions and apparitions that appeared to them of +nymphs, of gods, and of angels, in the midst of the noonday brightness. + +As we walked through this thicket, there arrived a moment in which, I +know not how, Pepita and I found ourselves alone together. The others +had remained behind. + +I felt a sudden thrill pass through me. For the first time, and in a +place so solitary, I found myself alone with this woman, while my +thoughts were still dwelling on the noontide apparitions, now sinister, +now gracious, but always supernatural, vouchsafed to the men of remote +ages. + +Pepita had left the long skirt of her riding-habit in the house, and now +wore a short dress that did not interfere with the graceful ease of her +movements. She had on her head a little Andalusian hat, which became her +extremely. She carried in her hand her riding-whip, which I fancied to +myself to be a magic wand by means of which this enchantress might cast +her spells over me. + +I am not afraid to transcribe here these eulogies of her beauty. In this +sylvan scene she appeared to me more beautiful than ever. The precaution +recommended in similar cases by ascetics, to think of her beauty +defaced by sickness and old age, to picture her to myself dead, the prey +of corruption and of the worm, presented itself, against my will, to my +imagination; and I say _against my will_, for I do not concur in the +necessity for such a precaution. No thought of the material, no +suggestion of the evil spirit, troubled my reason, or infected my will +or my senses. + +What did occur to me was an argument, at least to my mind, in disproof +of the efficacy of this precaution. Beauty, the creation of a Sovereign +and Divine Power, may, indeed, be frail and ephemeral, may vanish in an +instant; but the idea of beauty is eternal, and, once perceived by the +mind, it lives there an immortal life. The beauty of this woman, such as +it manifests itself to-day, will disappear in a few short years; the +graceful form, those charming contours, the noble head that raises +itself so proudly above her shoulders, all will be food for loathsome +worms; but though the material must of necessity be transformed, its +idea, the thought through which it was created, abstract beauty, in a +word, who shall destroy this? Does it not exist in the Divine Mind? Once +perceived and known by me, shall it not continue to live in my soul, +triumphing over age and even over death? + +I was meditating thus, striving to tranquillize my spirit and to +dissipate the doubts which you have succeeded in infusing into my mind, +when Pepita and I encountered each other. I was pleased and at the same +time troubled to find myself alone with her--hoping and yet fearing that +the others would join us. + +The silvery voice of Pepita broke the silence, and drew me from my +meditations, saying: + +"How silent you are, Don Luis, and how sad! I am pained to think that it +is, perhaps, through my fault, or partly so at least, that your father +has caused you to spend a disagreeable day in these solitudes, taking +you away from a solitude more congenial, where there would be nothing to +distract your attention from your prayers and pious books." + +I know not what answer I made to this. It must have been something +nonsensical, for my mind was troubled. I did not wish to flatter Pepita +by paying her profane compliments, nor, on the other hand, did I wish to +answer her rudely. + +She continued: + +"You must forgive me if I am wrong, but I fancy that, in addition to the +annoyance of seeing yourself deprived to-day of your favorite +occupation, there is something else that powerfully contributes to your +ill-humor." + +"And what is this something else?" I said; "since you have discovered +it, or fancy you have done so." + +"This something else," responded Pepita, "is a feeling not altogether +becoming in one who is going to be a priest so soon, but very natural in +a young man of twenty-two." + +On hearing this I felt the blood mount to my face, and my face burn. I +imagined a thousand absurdities; I thought myself beset by evil spirits; +I fancied myself tempted by Pepita, who was doubtless about to let me +understand that she knew I loved her. Then my timidity gave place to +haughtiness, and I looked her steadily in the face. There must have been +something laughable in my look, but either Pepita did not observe it, +or, if she did, she concealed the fact with amiable discretion; for she +exclaimed, in the most natural manner: + +"Do not be offended because I find you are not without fault. This that +I have observed seems to me a slight one. You are hurt by the jests of +Currito, and by being compelled to play--speaking profanely--a not very +dignified _role_, mounted, like the reverend vicar with his eighty +years, on a placid mule, and not, as a youth of your age and condition +should be, on a spirited horse. The fault is the reverend dean's, to +whom it did not occur that you should learn to ride. To know how to +manage a horse is not opposed to the career you intend to follow, and I +think, now that you are here, that your father might in a few days give +you the necessary instruction to enable you to do so. If you should go +to Persia or to China, where there are no railroads yet, you will make +but a sorry figure in those countries as a bad horseman. It is possible, +even, that, through this want of foresight of the dean's, the missionary +himself may come to lose prestige in the eyes of those barbarians, which +will make it all the more difficult for him to reap the fruits of his +labors." + +This and other arguments Pepita adduced in order to persuade me to learn +to ride on horseback; and I was so convinced of the necessity of a +missionary's being a good horseman, that I promised her to learn at +once, taking my father for a teacher. + +"On the very next expedition we make," I said, "I shall ride the most +spirited horse my father has, instead of the mule I am riding to-day." + +"I shall be very glad of it," responded Pepita, with a smile of +indescribable sweetness. + +At this moment we were joined by the rest of the party, at which I was +secretly rejoiced, though for no other reason than the fear of not being +able to sustain the conversation, and of saying a great many foolish +things, on account of the little experience I have had in conversing +with women. + +After our walk my father's servants spread before us on the fresh grass, +in the most charming spot beside the brook, a rural and abundant +collation. + +The conversation was very animated, and Pepita sustained her part in it +with much discretion and intelligence. My cousin Currito returned to his +jests about my manner of riding and the meekness of my mule. He called +me a theologian, and said that, seated on mule-back, I looked as if I +were dispensing blessings. This time, however, being now firmly resolved +to learn to ride, I answered his jests with sarcastic indifference. I +was silent, nevertheless, with respect to the promise I had just made +Pepita. The latter, doubtless thinking as I did--although we had come to +no understanding in the matter--that silence for the present was +necessary to insure the complete success of the surprise that I would +create afterward by my knowledge of horsemanship, said nothing of our +conversation. Thus it happened, naturally and in the simplest manner, +that a secret existed between us; and it produced in my mind a singular +effect. + +Nothing else worth telling occurred during the day. + +In the afternoon we returned to the village in the same manner in which +we had left it. Yet, seated on my easy-going mule and at the side of my +aunt Casilda, I did not experience the same fatigue or sadness as +before. + +During the whole journey I listened without weariness to my aunt's +stories, amusing myself at times in conjuring up idle fancies. Nothing +of what passes in my soul shall be concealed from you. I confess, then, +that the figure of Pepita was, as it were, the center, or rather the +nucleus and focus of these idle fancies.-- + +The noonday vision in which she had appeared to me in the shadiest and +most sequestered part of the grove, brought to my memory all the +visions, holy and unholy, of wondrous beings, of a condition superior to +ours, that I had read of in sacred authors and in the profane classics. +Pepita appeared to the eyes and on the stage of my fancy in foe, leafy +seclusion of the grove not as she rode before us on horseback but in an +ideal and ethereal fashion, as to AEneas his mother, as Minerva to +Callimachus, as the sylph who, afterward became the mother of Libusa to +the Bohemian Kroco, as Diana to the son of Aristaeus, as the angels in +the valley of Mamre to the patriarch, as the hippocentaur to St. Anthony +in the solitude of the wilderness. + +That the vision of Pepita should assume in my mind something of a +supernatural character, seems to me no more to be wondered at than any +of these. For an instant, seeing the consistency of the illusion, I +thought myself tempted by evil spirits; but I reflected that in the few +moments, during which I had been alone with Pepita near the brook of the +Solana, nothing had occurred that was not natural and commonplace; that +it was afterward, as I rode along quietly on my mule, that some demon, +hovering invisible around me, had suggested these extravagant fancies. + +That night I told my father of my desire to learn to ride. I did not +wish to conceal from him that it was Pepita who had suggested this +desire. My father was greatly rejoiced; he embraced me, he kissed me, he +said that now not you only would be my teacher, but that he also would +have the pleasure of teaching me something. He ended by assuring me that +in two or three weeks he would make of me the best horseman of all +Andalusia; able to go to Gibraltar for contraband goods and come back +laden with tobacco and cotton, after eluding the vigilance of the +custom-house officers; fit, in a word, to astonish the riders who show +off their horsemanship in the fairs of Seville and Mairena, and worthy +to press the flanks of Babreca, Bucephalus, or even of the horses of the +sun themselves, if they should by chance descend to earth, and I could +catch them by the bridle. + +I don't know what you will think of this notion of my learning to ride, +but I take it for granted you will see nothing wrong in it. + +If you could but see how happy my father is, and how he delights in +teaching me! Since the day after the excursion I told you of, I take two +lessons daily. There are days on which the lesson is continuous, for we +spend from morning till night on horseback. During the first week the +lessons took place in the court-yard of the house, which is unpaved, and +which served us as a riding-school. + +We now ride out into the country, but manage so that no one shall see +us. My father does not want me to show myself on horseback in public +until I am able to astonish every one by my fine appearance in the +saddle, as he says. If the vanity natural to a father does not deceive +him, this, it seems, will be very soon, for I have a wonderful aptitude +for riding. + +"It is easy to see that you are my son!" my father exclaims with joy, as +he watches my progress. + +My father is so good that I hope you will pardon him the profane +language and irreverent jests in which he indulges at times. I grieve +for this at the bottom of my soul, but I endure it with patience. These +constant and long-continued lessons have reduced me to a pitiable +condition with blisters. My father enjoins me to write to you that they +are caused by my flagellations. + +As he declares that within a few weeks I shall be an accomplished +horseman, and he does not desire to be superannuated as a master, he +proposes to teach me other accomplishments of a somewhat irregular +character, and sufficiently unsuited to a future priest. At times he +proposes to train me in throwing the bull in order that he may take me +afterward to Seville, where, with lance in hand, on the plains of +Tablada, I shall make the braggarts and the bullies stare. Then he +recalls his own youthful days, when he belonged to the body-guard, and +declares that he will look up his foils, gloves, and masks, and teach me +to fence. And, finally, as my father flatters himself that he can wield +the Sevillian knife better than any one else, he has offered to teach me +even this accomplishment also. + +You can already imagine the answer I make to all this nonsense. My +father replies that, in the good old times, not only the priests but +even the bishops themselves rode about the country on horseback, putting +infidels to the sword. I rejoin that this might happen in the dark ages, +but that in our days the ministers of the Most High should know how to +wield no other weapons than those of persuasion. "And what if persuasion +be not enough?" rejoins my father. "Do you think it would be amiss to +re-enforce argument with a few good blows of a cudgel?" The complete +missionary, according to my father's opinion, should know how, on +occasion, to have recourse to these heroic measures, and, as my father +has read a great many tales and romances, he cites various examples in +support of his opinion. He cites in the first place St. James, who, on +his white horse, without ceasing to be an apostle, puts the Moors to the +sword more frequently than he convinces or preaches to them; he cites a +certain Senor de la Vega who, being sent on an embassy to Boabdil by +Ferdinand and Isabella, became entangled in a theological discussion +with the Moors in the court-yard of the Lions, and, being at the end of +his arguments, drew his sword and fell upon them with fury in order to +complete their conversion; and he finally cites the Biscayan hidalgo, +Don Inigo de Loyola, who, in a controversy he had with a Moor, regarding +the purity of the Holy Virgin, growing weary at last of the impious and +horrible blasphemies with which the aforesaid Moor contradicted him, +fell upon him, sword in hand, and, if he had not taken to his heels, +would have enforced conviction upon his soul in a terrible fashion. In +regard to the incident relating to St. Ignatius, I answer my father that +this was before the saint became a priest; and in regard to the other +examples, I answer that historians are not agreed in the matter. + +In short, I defend myself as best I can against my father's jests, and I +content myself with being a good horseman, without learning other +accomplishments unsuited to the clergy; although my father assures me +that not a few of the Spanish clergy understand and practice them with +frequency in Spain, even in our own day, with a view to contributing to +the triumph of the faith, and to the preservation or the restoration of +the unity of the Church. + +I am grieved to the soul by this levity of my father's, and that he +should speak with irreverence and jestingly about the most serious +things; but a respectful son is not called upon to go further than I do +in repressing his somewhat Voltairean freedom of speech. I say +_Voltairean,_ because I am not able to describe it by any other word. At +heart my father is a good Catholic, and this thought consoles me. + +Tuesday was the Feast of the Cross, and the village presented a very +animated appearance. In each street were six or seven May-crosses, +covered with flowers, but none of them was so beautiful as that placed +by Pepita at the door of her house. It was adorned by a perfect cascade +of flowers. + +In the evening we went to an entertainment at the house of Pepita. The +cross which had stood at the door was now placed in a large saloon on +the ground-floor, in which there is a piano, and Pepita presented us +with a simple and poetic spectacle, one that I had seen when a child, +but had since forgotten. + +From the upper part of the cross hung down seven bands or broad ribbons, +two white, two green, and three red, the symbolic colors of the +theological virtues. Eight children of five or six years old, +representing the seven sacraments, and holding the seven ribbons that +hung from the cross, performed with great skill a species of +contra-dance. The sacrament of baptism was represented by a child +wearing the white robe of a catechumen; ordination, by another child as +a priest; confirmation, by a little bishop; extreme unction, by a +pilgrim with staff and scrip, the latter filled with shells; marriage, +by a bride and bridegroom, and penance, by a Nazarene with cross and +crown of thorns. + +The dance was a series of reverences, steps, evolutions, and +genuflections, rather than a dance, performed to the sound of very +tolerable music, something like a march, which the organist played, not +without skill, on the piano. + +The little dancers, children of the servants or retainers of Pepita, +after playing their parts, went away to bed amid compliments and +caresses. + +The entertainment, in the course of which we were served with +refreshments, continued till twelve; the refreshments were sirup served +in little cups, and afterward chocolate with sponge-cake, and meringues +and water. + +Since the return of spring, Pepita's seclusion and retirement are being +gradually abandoned, at which my father is greatly rejoiced. In future, +Pepita will receive every night, and my father desires that I shall be +one of the guests. + +Pepita has left off mourning, and now appears more lovely and attractive +than ever, in the lighter fabrics appropriate to the season, which is +almost summer. She still dresses, however, with extreme simplicity. + +I cherish the hope that my father will not now detain me here beyond the +end of this month at farthest. In June we shall both join you in the +city, and you shall then see how, far from Pepita, to whom I am +indifferent, and who will remember me neither kindly nor unkindly, I +shall have the pleasure of embracing you, and attaining at last to the +happiness of being ordained. + +_May 7th._ + +Pepita, as I mentioned to you before, receives every evening, from nine +to twelve. + +Four or five married ladies of the village, and as many more unmarried +ones, including Aunt Casilda, are frequent visitors; as well as six or +seven young men, who play at forfeits with the girls. Three or four +engagements are the natural result. + +The sedate portion of the company are the same as usual. These are, as +one may say, the high functionaries of the village--my father, who is +the squire, the apothecary, the doctor, and the reverend vicar. + +I am at a loss to know in which division to place myself. If I join the +young people, my gravity proves a hindrance to their games and +flirtations; if I stay with the elders, I must play the _role_ of a +looker-on in things I have no knowledge of. The only games of cards I +know are the _burro ciego_, the _burro con vista_, and a little _tute_ +or _brisca cruzada_. + +The best course for me to pursue would be to absent myself from the +house altogether, but my father will not hear of this. By doing so, +according to him, I should make myself ridiculous. + +My father shows many signs of wonder when he sees my ignorance in +certain things. That I should not know how to play even ombre fills him +with astonishment. + +"Your uncle has brought you up quite out of the world," he says to me, +"cramming you with theology, and leaving you in the dark about +everything else you ought to know. For the very reason that you are to +be a priest, and can neither dance nor make love in society, it is +necessary that you should know how to play ombre. Otherwise how are you +going to spend your time, unhappy boy?" + +To these and other arguments of a like land I have been obliged to +yield, and my father is teaching me at home to play ombre, so that, as +soon as I have learned it, I may play it at Pepita's. He wanted also, as +I already told you, to teach me to fence, and afterward to smoke and +shoot and throw the bar; but I have consented to nothing of all this. + +"What a difference," my father exclaims, "between your youth and mine!" + +And then he adds, laughing: + +"In substance it is the same thing. I, too, had my canonical hours, in +the quarters of the life-guard: a cigar was the censer; a pack of cards, +the hymn-book; and there were never wanting other devotions and +exercises of a more or less spiritual character." + +Although you had warned me of this levity of disposition of my father, +and on account of it I have spent with you twelve years of my life--from +the age of ten to that of twenty-two--yet the sayings of his, altogether +too free at times, perturb and mortify me. But what is to be done? +Although I can not reprove him for making use of them, I do not, on the +other hand, applaud or laugh at them. The strangest part of it is that +my father is altogether another person when he is in the house of +Pepita. Not even by chance does a single phrase, a single jest of the +kind he is so prodigal of at other times escape from him then. At +Pepita's my father is politeness itself. He seems, too, to become every +day more attached to her, and to cherish greater hopes of success. + +My father continues greatly pleased with me as his pupil in +horsemanship. He declares that in four or five days I shall have +mastered the art, and that I shall then mount Lucero, a black horse bred +from an Arab horse and a mare of the race of Guadalcazar, full of fire +and spirit, and trained to all manner of curvetings. + +"Whoever succeeds in getting on the back of Lucero," my father says to +me, "may venture to compete in horsemanship with the centaurs +themselves; and that you shall do very soon." + +Although I spend the whole day out of doors on horseback, in the +club-house, or at Pepita's, I yet steal a few hours from slumber, +sometimes voluntarily, sometimes because I can not sleep, to meditate on +my situation and to examine my conscience. The image of Pepita is always +present to my mind. "Can this be love?" I ask myself. + +The moral obligation I am under, the vow I have made to consecrate +myself to the service of the altar, although not confirmed, is +nevertheless, in my eyes, full and binding. If anything opposed to the +fulfillment of this vow has entered into my soul, it must be combated. + +I note, too, and do not accuse me of arrogance because I mention this to +you, that the empire of my will, which you have taught me to exercise, +is complete over my senses. While Moses on the top of Mount Sinai +conversed with God, the people on the plain below adored, rebellious, +the golden calf. Notwithstanding my youth, my spirit has no fears of +incurring a like rebelliousness. I might converse with God in full +security, if the enemy did not come to attack me in the sanctuary +itself. But the image of Pepita presents itself to my soul. It is a +spirit that makes war against my spirit. It is the idea of her beauty in +all its spiritual purity, that stands before the sanctuary of the souls +where God resides, and prevents me from reaching him. + +I do not shut my eyes to the truth, however; I can see clearly; I can +reason; I do not deceive myself. Above and beyond this spiritual +inclination that draws me to Pepita, is the love of the Infinite and of +the Eternal. Although I represent Pepita to myself as an idea, as a +poem, it is still the idea, the poetry of something finite, limited, +concrete; while the love of God and the conception of God embrace +everything. But, notwithstanding all my efforts, I am unable to give +form in my mind to this supreme conception--this object of the highest +love--in order that it may combat the image, the memory of the frail and +ephemeral reality that continually besets me. Fervently do I implore +Heaven to awaken within me the power of the imagination, that it may +create a likeness, a symbol of this conception, that shall be +all-embracing, and absorb and efface the image of Pepita. This highest +conception, on which I desire to center my love, is vague, shadowy, +indescribable, like the blackness of darkness; while Pepita's image +presents itself to me in clearly defined outlines, bright, palpable, +luminous with the subdued light that may be borne by the eyes of the +spirit, not bright with the intense light that for the eyes of the +spirit is as darkness. + +Every other consideration, every other object is of no avail to destroy +her image. Between the crucifix and me it places itself; between the +most sacred image of the Virgin and me it places itself; on the page of +the spiritual book I am reading it also comes to place itself. + +Yet I do not believe that my soul is invaded by what in the world is +called love. And even if this were the case, I should do battle against +this love, and conquer in the end. + +The daily sight of Pepita, the hearing her praises sounded continually, +even by the reverend vicar, preoccupy me; they turn my spirit toward +profane things, and withdraw it from its proper meditations. But, no--I +do not yet love Pepita; I will go away from here and forget her. + +While I remain here, I shall do battle with valor. I shall wrestle with +the Lord in order to prevail with him by love and submission. My cries +shall reach him like burning arrows, and shall cast down the buckler +wherewith he defends himself from the eyes of my soul. I shall fight +like Israel in the silence of the night; and the Lord shall wound me in +the thigh, and shall humble me in the conflict in order that, being +vanquished, I may become the victor. + +_May 12th._ + +Before I had any intention of doing so, my dear uncle, my father +persuaded me to ride Lucero. Yesterday, at six in the morning, I mounted +the beautiful wild creature, as my father calls Lucero, and we set out +for the country. + +I rode so well, I kept so firm a seat, and looked to such advantage on +the superb animal, that my father could not resist the temptation of +showing off his pupil; and, about eleven in the morning, after resting +at a grange he owns, half a league distant from here, he insisted on our +returning to the village and entering it by the most frequented street, +which we did, our horses' hoofs clattering loudly against the +paving-stones. It is needless to say that we rode by the house of +Pepita, who for some time past is to be seen occasionally in her window, +and who was then seated at the grating of a lower window, behind the +green blind. + +Hardly had Pepita heard the noise we made than, lifting up her eyes and +seeing us, she rose, laid down the sewing she had in her hands, and set +herself to observe us. Lucero, who has the habit, as I learned +afterward, of prancing and curveting when he passes the house of Pepita, +began to show off, and to rear and plunge. I tried to quiet him, but, as +there was something unfamiliar to him in the ways of his present rider, +as well as in the rider himself, whom, perhaps, he regarded with +contempt, he grew more and more unmanageable, and began to neigh and +prance, and even to kick; but I remained firm and serene, showing him +that I was his master, chastising him with the spur, touching his breast +with the whip, and holding him in by the bridle. Lucero, who had almost +stood up on his hind-legs, now humbled himself so far as to bend his +knees gently and make a reverence. + +The crowd of idlers who had gathered around us broke into boisterous +applause. My father called out to them: + +"A good lesson that for our braggarts and blusterers!" + +And, observing afterward that Currito--who has no other occupation than +to amuse himself--was among the crowd, he addressed him in these words: + +"Look at that, you rascal! Look at the theologian now, and see if you +don't stare with wonder, instead of laughing at him." + +And, in fact, there Currito stood stock-still with amazement, and unable +to utter a word. + +My triumph was great and assured, although unsuited to my character. The +unfitness of the triumph covered me with confusion. Shame brought the +blood to my cheeks. I must have turned as red as scarlet, or redder, +when I saw that Pepita was applauding and saluting me graciously, while +she smiled and clapped her beautiful hands. + +In short, I have been adjudged a man of nerve, and a horseman of the +first rank. + +My father could not be prouder or more happy than he is; he declares +that he is completing my education, that in me you have sent him a book +full of wisdom, but unconnected and unbound, which he is now making a +fair copy, and putting it between covers. + +On two occasions I played _hombre_ with Pepita. Learning _hombre_, if +that be a part of the binding and the correcting, is already done with. + +The night after my equestrian feat Pepita received me with enthusiasm, +and--what she had never ventured nor perhaps desired to do before--she +gave me her hand. + +Do not suppose that I did not call to mind what so many moralists and +ascetics recommend in like cases, but in my inmost thoughts I believed +they exaggerated the danger. Those words of the Holy Spirit, that it is +as dangerous to touch a woman as a scorpion, seem to me to have been +said in another sense. In pious books, no doubt, many phrases and +sentences of the Scriptures are, with the best intentions, interpreted +harshly. How are we to understand otherwise the saying that the beauty +of woman, this perfect work of God, is always the cause of perdition? Or +how are we to understand, in a universal and invariable sense, that +woman is more bitter than death? How are we to understand that he who +touches a woman, on whatever occasion or with whatsoever thought, shall +not be without stain? + +In fine, I made answer rapidly within my mind to these and other similar +counsels, and took the hand that Pepita kindly extended to me and +pressed it in mine. Its softness made me comprehend all the better the +delicacy and beauty of the hand that until now I had known only by +sight. + +According to the usages of the world, the hand, once given, should be +given always thereafter on entering a room and on taking leave. I hope +that in this ceremony, in this evidence of friendship, in this +manifestation of kindness, given and accepted in purity of heart, and +without any mixture of levity, you will see nothing either evil or +dangerous. + +As my father is often obliged of an evening to see the overseer and +others of the country-people, and is seldom free until half-past ten or +eleven, I take his place beside Pepita at the ombre-table. The reverend +vicar and the notary are generally the other partners. We each stake a +penny a point, so that not more than a dollar or two changes hands in +the game. + +As the game possesses thus but little interest, we interrupt it +constantly with pleasant conversation, and even with discussions on +matters foreign to the game itself, in all which Pepita displays such +clearness of understanding, such liveliness of imagination, and a grace +of expression so extraordinary, as to astonish me. + +I find no sufficient motive to change my opinion with respect to what I +have already said in answer to your suspicions that Pepita perhaps feels +a certain liking for me. She manifests toward me the affection she would +naturally entertain for the son of her suitor, Don Pedro de Vargas, and +the timidity and shyness that would be inspired by a man in my position, +who, though not yet a priest, is soon to become one. + +Nevertheless, as I always speak to you in my letters as if I were +kneeling before you in the confessional, I desire, as is my duty, to +communicate to you a passing impression I have received on two or three +occasions. This impression may be but a hallucination or a delusion, but +I have none the less received it. + +I have already told you in my former letters that the eyes of Pepita, +green as those of Circe, are calm and tranquil in their gaze; she does +not seem to be conscious of their power, or to know that they serve for +any other purpose than to see with. When she looks at one, the soft +light of her glance is so clear, so frank, and so untroubled that, +instead of giving rise to any evil thoughts, it seems to give birth to +pure thoughts, and leaves innocent and chaste souls in untroubled +repose, while it destroys every incitement to evil in souls that are not +chaste. There is no trace of ardent passion, no fire to be discovered in +Pepita's eyes. Their light is like the mild ray of the moon. + +Well, then, notwithstanding all this, I fancied I detected, on two or +three occasions, a sudden brightness, a gleam as of lightning, a swift, +devouring flame in her eyes as they rested on me. Can this be the result +of a ridiculous vanity, inspired by the arch-fiend himself? + +I think so. I believe it is, and I wish to believe it. + +The swiftness, the fugitive nature of the impression make me conjecture +that it had no external reality, that it was only an illusion. + +The serenity of heaven, the coldness of indifference, tempered, indeed, +with sweetness and charity--this is what I always discern in Pepita's +eyes. + +Nevertheless, this illusion, this vision of a strange and ardent glance, +torments me. + +My father affirms that in affairs of the heart it is the woman, not the +man, who takes the first step; and that she takes it without thereby +incurring any responsibility, and with the power to disavow or retract +it whenever she desires to do so. According to my father, it is the +woman who first declares her passion through the medium of furtive +glances that, later, she disavows to her own conscience if necessary, +and of which he to whom they are directed divines, rather than reads, +the significance. In this manner, by a species of electric shock, by +means of a subtle and inexplicable intuition, he who is loved perceives +that he is loved; and when at last he makes up his mind to declare +himself, he can do so confidently, and in the full security that his +passion is returned. + +Perhaps it is these theories of my father, to which I have listened +because I could not help it, that have heated my fancy and made me +imagine what has no existence in reality. + +Yet, after all, I say to myself at times, Is the thought so absurd, so +incredible, that this illusion should have an existence in reality? And +if it had, if I were pleasing in Pepita's eyes otherwise than as a +friend, if the woman to whom my father is paying his addresses should +fall in love with me, would not my position then be terrible? + +But let us cast away these fears, the creation, no doubt, of vanity. Let +us not make of Pepita a Phaedra, or of me a Hippolytus. + +What in reality begins to surprise me is my father's carelessness and +complete consciousness of security. Pardon my pride, ask Heaven to +pardon it; for at times this consciousness of security piques and +offends me. What! I say to myself, is there something so absurd in the +thought that it should not even occur to my father that, notwithstanding +my supposed sanctity, or perhaps because of my supposed sanctity, I +should, without wishing it, inspire Pepita with love? + +There is an ingenious method of reasoning by which I explain to myself, +without wounding my vanity, my father's carelessness in this important +particular. My father, although he has no reason for doing so, begins to +regard himself already in the light of Pepita's husband, and to share in +that fatal blindness with which Asmodeus, or some other yet more +malicious demon, afflicts husbands. Profane and ecclesiastical history +is fall of instances of this blindness, which God permits, no doubt, for +providential purposes. The most remarkable example of it, perhaps, is +that of the Emperor Marcus Aurelius, who had for wife a woman so vile as +Faustina, and yet so wise a man and so great a philosopher remained in +ignorance to the end of his days of what was known to every one else in +the Roman Empire; so that in the meditations or memoirs of himself that +he composed he gives infinite thanks to the immortal gods for having +bestowed upon him so faithful and so good a wife; thus provoking the +smiles of his contemporaries and of future generations. + +Every day since then we see examples of great men and men of exalted +rank who make those who enjoy the favor of their wives their private +secretaries, and bestow honors on them. Thus do I explain to myself my +father's indifference and his failure to suspect that, even against my +own will, it would be possible for him to find a rival in me. + +Would it be a want of respect on my part, should I fall into the fault +of presumption or insolence, if I were to warn my father of the danger +which he himself does not see? But he gives me no opportunity to say +anything to him. Besides, what could I say to him? That once or twice I +fancy Pepita has looked at me in a way different from that in which she +usually does? May not this be an illusion of mine? No; I have not the +least proof that Pepita desires to play the coquette with me. + +What, then, could I tell my father? Shall I say to him that it is I who +am in love with Pepita; that I covet the treasure he already regards as +his own? This is not the truth; and, above all, how could I tell this to +my father, even if, to my misfortune and through my fault, it were the +truth? + +The best course I can adopt is to say nothing; to combat the temptation +in silence, if it should indeed assail me, and to endeavor, as soon as +possible, to leave this place and return to you. + +_May 19th._ + +I return thanks to Heaven and to you for the letters and the counsels +you have lately sent me. To-day I need them more than ever. + +The mystical and learned St. Theresa is right in dwelling upon the +suffering of timid souls that allow themselves to be disturbed by +temptation; but a thousand times worse than that suffering is the +awakening from error of those who, like me, have permitted themselves to +indulge in arrogance and self-confidence. + +Our bodies are the temples wherein dwells the Holy Spirit; but when +fire is set to the walls of the temple, though they do not burn, yet +they are blackened. + +The first evil thought is the head of the serpent; if we do not crush it +with firm and courageous foot, then will the venomous reptile climb up +and hide himself in our bosom. + +The nectar of earthly joys, however innocent they be, is sweet indeed to +the taste; but afterward it is converted into gall, and into the venom +of the serpent. + +It is true--I can no longer deny it to you--I ought not to have allowed +my eyes to rest with so much complacency on this dangerous woman. + +I do not deem myself lost; but I feel my soul troubled. + +Even as the thirsty hart desires and seeks the water-brooks, so does my +soul still seek God. To God does it turn that he may give it rest; it +longs to drink at the torrent of his delights the gushing forth of which +rejoices paradise, and whose clear waves make whiter than snow but deep +calleth unto deep, and my feet have stuck fast in the mire that is +hidden in their abysses. + +Yet have I still breath and voice to cry out with the psalmist: "Arise, +my joy! if thou dost take my part, who shall prevail against me?" + +I say unto my sinful soul, full of the chimerical imaginations and +sinful desires engendered by unlawful thoughts: "O miserable daughter +of Babylon! happy shall he be who shall give thee thy reward! Happy +shall he be that dasheth thy little ones against the rock!" + +Works of penance, fasting, prayer, and penitence, are the weapons +wherewith I shall arm myself to combat, and, with the Divine help, to +vanquish. + +It was not a dream; it was not madness; it was the truth: she lets her +eyes rest upon me at times with the ardent glance of which I have told +you. There is in her glance an unexplainable magnetic attraction. It +draws me on, it seduces me, and I can not withdraw my gaze from her. On +such occasions my eyes must burn, like hers, with a fatal flame, as did +those of Amnon when he turned them upon Tamar; as did those of the +prince of Shechem when they were fixed upon Dinah. + +When our glances encounter each other thus, I forget even God. Her image +rises up within my soul, the conqueror of everything. Her beauty +outshines all other beauty; the joys of heaven seem to me less desirable +than her affection. An eternity of suffering would be little in exchange +for one moment of the infinite bliss with which one of those glances +that pass like lightning inundates my soul. + +When I return home, when I am alone in my room, in the silence of the +night, I realize all the horror of my position, and I form good +resolutions, only to break them again. + +I resolve to feign sickness, to make use of any pretext so as not to go +to Pepita's on the following night, and yet I go. + +My father, confiding to the last degree, says to me when the hour +arrives, without any suspicion of what is passing in my soul: + +"Go you to Pepita's; I will go later, when I have finished with the +overseer." + +No excuse occurs to me; I can find no pretext for not going, and, +instead of answering, "I can not go," I take my hat and depart. + +On entering the room I shake hands with Pepita, and, as our hands touch, +she casts a spell over me; my whole being is changed; a devouring fire +penetrates my heart, and I think only of her. Moved by an irresistible +impulse, I gaze at her with insane ardor, and at every instant I think I +discover in her new perfections. Now it is the dimples in her cheeks +when she smiles, now the roseate whiteness of her skin, now the straight +outlines of her nose, now the smallness of her ear, now the softness of +contour and the admirable modeling of her throat. + +I enter her house against my will, as though summoned there by a +conjurer, and no sooner am I there than I fall under the spell of her +enchantment. I see clearly that I am in the power of an enchantress, +whose fascination is irresistible. + +Not only is she pleasing to my sight, but her words sound in my ears +like the music of the spheres, revealing to my soul the harmony of the +universe; and I even fancy that a subtle fragrance emanates from her, +sweeter than the perfume of the mint that grows by the brook-side, or +the wood-like odor of the thyme that is found among the hills. + +I know not how, in this state of exaltation, I am able to play _hombre,_ +or to converse rationally, or even to speak, so completely am I absorbed +in her. + +When our glances encounter each other, our souls rush forth in them, and +seem to join and interpenetrate each other. In that meeting a thousand +feelings are communicated that in no other way could be made known; +poems are recited that could be uttered in no human tongue, and songs +are sung that no human voice could sing, no according zither accompany. + +Since the day I met Pepita in the _Pozo de la Solana_, I have not seen +her alone. Although no word has passed between us, yet we have told each +other everything. + +When I withdraw myself from this fascination, when I am again alone at +night in my chamber, I set myself to examine coolly the situation in +which I am placed; I see the abyss that is about to ingulf me, yawning +before me, and I feel my feet slip from under me, and that I am sinking +into it. + +You counsel me to reflect upon death--not on the death of this woman, +but on my own. You counsel me to reflect on the instability, on the +insecurity of our existence, and on what there is beyond it. But these +considerations, these reflections neither terrify nor daunt me. Why +should I, who desire to die, fear death? Love and death are brothers. A +sentiment of self-abnegation springs to life within me, and tells me +that my whole being should be consecrated to and annihilated in the +beloved object. I long to merge myself in one of her glances; to diffuse +and exhale my whole being in the ray of light shot forth from her eyes; +to die while gazing on her, even though I should be eternally lost. + +What is still to some extent efficacious with me against this love is +not fear, but love itself. Superior to this deep-rooted love with which +I now have the evidence that Pepita inspires me, Divine love exalts +itself in my spirit in mighty uprising. Then everything is changed +within me, and I feel that I may yet obtain the victory. The object of +my higher love presents itself to my mental vision, as the sun that +kindles and illuminates all things, and fills all space with light; and +the object of my inferior love appears but as an atom of dust floating +in the sunbeam. All its beauty, all its splendor, all its attraction are +nothing but the reflection of this uncreated sun, the brilliant, +transitory, fleeting spark that is cast off from that infinite and +inexhaustible fire. + +My soul, burning with love, would fain take to herself wings and rise to +that flame, in order that all that is impure within her might be +consumed therein. + +My life, for some days past, is a constant struggle. I know not how it +is that the malady from which I suffer does not betray itself in my +countenance. I scarcely eat; I scarcely sleep. And if by chance sleep +closes my eyelids, I awake in terror as from a dream in which rebel +angels are arrayed against good angels, and in which I am one of the +combatants. In this conflict of light against darkness, I do battle for +the right, but I sometimes imagine that I have gone over to the enemy, +that I am a vile deserter; and I hear a voice from Patmos saying, "And +men preferred darkness rather than light"; and then I am filled with +terror and I look upon myself as lost. No resource is left me but +flight. If, before the end of the month, my father does not go with me, +or consent to my going alone, I shall steal away like a thief, without a +word to any one. + +_May 23d._ + +I am a vile worm, not a man; I am the opprobrium and disgrace of +humanity. I am a hypocrite. + +I have been encompassed by the pangs of death, and the waters of +iniquity have passed over me. + +I am ashamed to write to you, and yet I write. I desire to confess +everything to you. + +I can not turn away from evil. Far from abstaining from going to +Pepita's, I go there each night earlier than the last. It would seem as +if devils took me by the feet and carried me there against my will! + +Happily, I never find Pepita alone; I do not desire to find her alone. I +almost always find there before me the excellent vicar, who attributes +our friendship to similarity of feeling in religious matters, and bases +it on piety, like the pure and innocent friendship he himself entertains +for her. + +The progress of my malady is rapid. Like the stone that is loosened from +the mountain-top and gathers force as it falls, so is it with my spirit +now. + +When Pepita and I shake hands, it is not now as before. Each one of us, +by an effort of the will, transmits to the other, through the handclasp, +every throb of the heart. It is as if, by some diabolical art, we had +effected a transfusion and a blending together of the most subtle +elements our blood. She must feel my life circulate through her veins, +as I feel hers in mine. + +When I am near her, I love her; when I am away from her, I hate her. +When I am in her presence she inspires me with love; she draws me to +her; she subjugates me with gentleness; she lays upon me a very easy +yoke. + +But the recollection of her undoes me. When I dream of her, I dream that +she is severing my head from my body, as Judith slew the captain of the +Assyrians; or that she is driving a nail into my temple, as Jael did to +Sisera. But when I am near her, she appears to me the Spouse of the Song +of Songs, and a voice within me calls to her, and I bless her, and I +regard her as a sealed fountain, as an inclosed garden, as the flower of +the valley, as the lily of the fields, my dove and my sister. + +I desire to free myself from her, and I can not. I abhor, yet I almost +worship her. Her spirit enters into and takes possession of me as soon +as I behold her; it subjugates me, it abases me. + +I leave her house each night, saying, "This is the last night I shall +return here"; and I return there on the following night! + +When she speaks, and I am near, my soul hangs, as it were, upon her +words. When she smiles, I imagine that a ray of spiritual light enters +into my heart and rejoices it. + +It has happened, when playing _hombre_, that our knees have touched by +chance, and then I have felt a thrill run through me impossible to +describe. + +Get me away from this place. Write to my father and ask him to let me +return to you. If it be necessary, tell him everything. Help me! Be you +my refuge! + +_May 30th._ + +God has given me strength to resist, and I have resisted. + +It is now many days since I have been in the house of Pepita, many days +since I have seen her. + +It is scarcely necessary that I should feign sickness, for I am in +reality sick. I have lost my color, and dark circles begin to show +themselves under my eyes; and my father asks me, full of affectionate +anxiety, what the cause of my suffering is, and manifests the deepest +concern in my regard. + +The kingdom of heaven is said to yield to violence, and I am resolved to +conquer it. With violence I call at its gates that they may open to me. + +With wormwood am I fed by the Lord, in order to prove me; and in vain do +I supplicate him to let this cup of bitterness pass away from me. But, +as I have passed and still pass many nights in vigil, delivered up to +prayer, a loving inspiration from the Supreme Consoler has come to +sweeten the bitterness of my cup. + +I have beheld with the eyes of the soul the new country; and the new +song of the heavenly Jerusalem has resounded within the depths of my +heart. + +If in the end I should conquer, glorious will be the victory; but I +shall owe it to the Queen of Angels, under whose protection I place +myself. She is my refuge and my defense; the tower and the house of +David, on whose walls hang innumerable shields and the armor of many +valiant champions; the cedar of Lebanon, that puts to flight the +serpent. + +The woman who inspires me with an earthly love, on the contrary, I +endeavor to despise and abase in my thoughts, remembering the words of +the sage, and applying them to her. + +"Thou art the snare of the hunter," I say to her; "thy heart is a net of +deceit, and thy hands are bands that imprison; he who fears God will +flee from thee, and the sinner shall be taken captive by thee." + +In my meditations on love, I find a thousand reasons for loving God, and +against loving her. + +I feel, in the depths of my heart, an indescribable enthusiasm that +convinces me that for the love of God I would sacrifice all +things--fame, honor, power, dominion. I feel myself capable of imitating +Christ, and if the tempter should carry me off to the mountain-top, and +should there offer me all the kingdoms of the earth if I consented to +bow the knee before him, yet would I not bend it. But were he to offer +me this woman if I should do so, I feel that I should waver, that I +should not reject his offer. Is this woman, then, worth more in my eyes +than all the kingdoms of the earth? More than fame, honor, power, and +dominion? + +Is the virtue of love, I ask myself at times, always the same, even when +applied to diverse objects; or are there two species and qualities of +love? To love God seems to me to be the giving up of self and of selfish +interest. Loving him, I desire to love, and I can love all things +through him, and I am not troubled or jealous because of his love toward +all things. I am not jealous of the saints, or of the martyrs, or of the +blessed, or even of the seraphim. The greater I picture to myself to be +the love of God for his creatures, and the graces and gifts he bestows +upon them, the less am I troubled by jealousy; the more I love him, the +nearer to me do I feel him to be, and the more loving and gracious does +he seem toward me. My brotherhood, my more than brotherhood with all +creatures, stands forth then in a most pleasing light. It seems to me +that I am one with all things, and that all things are bound together in +the bonds of love, through God and in God. + +Very different is it when my thoughts dwell upon Pepita, and on the love +with which she inspires me. This love is a love full of hatred, that +separates me from everything but myself. I desire her for myself, +altogether for myself, and myself altogether for her. Even devotion to +her, even sacrifices made for her sake, partake of the nature of +selfishness. To die for her would be to die of despair at not being able +to possess her in any other manner--from the fear of not enjoying her +love completely, except by dying and commingling with her in an eternal +embrace. + +By these reflections I endeavor to render the love of Pepita hateful to +me. I invest my love in my imagination with something diabolical and +fatal; but, as if I possessed a double soul, a double understanding, a +double will, and a double imagination, in contradiction to this thought, +other feelings rise up within me in its train, and I then deny what I +have just affirmed, and insanely endeavor to reconcile the two loves. +Would it not be possible, I ask myself, to fly from Pepita, and yet +continue to love her, without ceasing therefore to consecrate myself +with fervor to the love of God? For, as the love of God does not +exclude love of country, love of humanity, love of learning, love of +beauty in nature and in art, neither should it exclude another love, if +it be spiritual and immaculate. I will make of her, I say to myself, a +symbol, an allegory, an image of all that is good, of all that is +beautiful. She shall be to me, as Beatrice was to Dante, the image and +the symbol of country, of knowledge, and of beauty. + +This intention suggests to me a horrible fancy, a monstrous thought. In +order to make of Pepita this symbol, this vaporous and ethereal image, +this sign and epitome of all that I can love under God, in God, and +subordinate to God, I picture her to myself dead, as Beatrice was dead +when Dante made her the subject of his song. + +If I picture her to myself among the living, then I am unable to convert +her into a pure idea, and if I convert her into a pure idea, I kill her +in my thoughts. + +Then I weep; I am filled with horror at my crime, and I draw near to her +in spirit, and with the warmth of my heart I bring her back to life +again; and I behold her, not errant, diaphanous, floating in shadowy +outline among roseate clouds and celestial flowers, as the stern +Ghibelline beheld his beloved in the upper sphere of purgatory, but +coherent, solid, clearly defined in the pure and serene air like the +masterpieces of Greek art, like Galatea already animated by the love of +Pygmalion, and descending--full of fire, exhaling love, rich in youth +and beauty--from her pedestal of marble. + +Then I exclaim in the depths of my perturbed heart: "My virtue faints! +My God, do not thou forsake me! Hasten to my help; show thy countenance, +and I shall be saved." + +Thus do I recover strength to resist temptation. Thus again does the +hope spring to life within me, that I shall regain my former +tranquillity when I shall have left this place. + +The devil longs with ardor to swallow up the pure waters of Jordan, by +which are symbolized the persons who are consecrated to God. Hell +conspires against them, and lets loose all her monsters, upon them. St. +Bonaventure says, "We should not wonder that these persons have sinned, +but rather that they have not sinned." + +Notwithstanding, I shall be able to resist and not sin. The Lord will +protect me. + +_June 6th._ + +Pepita's nurse--now her housekeeper--is, as my father says, a good bag +of wrinkles; she is talkative, gay, and skillful, as few are. She +married the son of Master Cencias, and has inherited from the father +what the son did not inherit--a wonderful facility for the mechanical +arts, with this difference; that while Master Cencias could set the +screw of a wine-press, or repair the wheels of a wagon, or make a plow, +this daughter-in-law of his knows how to make sweetmeats, conserves of +honey, and other dainties. The father-in-law practiced the useful arts, +the daughter-in-law those that have for their object pleasure, though +only innocent, or at least lawful pleasure. + +Antonona--for such is her name--is permitted, or assumes, the greatest +familiarity with all the gentry here. She goes in and out of every house +as if it were her own. She says _thou_ to all the young people of +Pepita's age, or four or five years older; she calls them _nino_ and +_nina,_ and treats them as if she had nursed them at her breast. + +She behaves toward me with the same familiarity; she comes to visit me, +enters my room unannounced, and has asked me several times already why I +no longer go to see her mistress, and has told me that I am wrong in not +going. + +My father, who has no suspicion of the truth, accuses me of +eccentricity; he calls me an owl, and he, too, is determined that I +shall resume my visits to Pepita. Last night I could no longer resist +his repeated importunities, and I went to her house very early, as my +father was about to settle his accounts with the overseer. + +Would God I had not gone! + +Pepita was alone. When our glances met, when we saluted each other, we +both turned red. We shook hands with timidity and in silence. + +I did not press her hand, nor did she press mine, but for a moment we +held them clasped together. + +In Pepita's glance, as she looked at me, there was nothing of love; +there was only friendship, sympathy, and a profound sadness. + +She had divined the whole of my inward struggle; she was persuaded that +divine love had triumphed in my soul; that my resolution not to love her +was firm and invincible. + +She did not venture to complain of me; she had no reason to complain of +me; she knew that right was on my side. A sigh, scarcely perceptible, +that escaped from her dewy, parted lips, revealed to me the depth of her +sorrow. + +Her hand still lay in mine; we were both silent. How say to her that she +was not destined for me, nor I for her; that we must part forever? + +But, though my lips refused to tell her this in words, I told it to her +with my eyes; my severe glance confirmed her fears; it convinced her of +the irrevocableness of my decision. + +All at once her gaze was troubled; her lovely countenance, pale with a +translucent pallor, was contracted with a touching expression of +melancholy. She looked like Our Lady of Sorrows. Two tears rose slowly +to her eyes, and began to steal down her cheeks. + +I know not what passed within me--and how describe it, even if I knew? + +I bent toward her to kiss away her tears, and our lips met in a kiss. + +A rapture unspeakable, a faintness full of peril, invaded our whole +being. She would have fallen, but that I supported her in my arms. + +Heaven willed that we should at this moment hear the step and the cough +of the reverend vicar, who was approaching, and we instantly drew apart. + +Recovering myself, and summoning all the strength of my will, I brought +to an end this terrible scene, that had been enacted in silence, with +these words, which I pronounced in low and intense accents: + +"The first and the last!" + +I made allusion to our profane kiss, but, as if my words had been an +invocation, there rose before me the vision of the Apocalypse in all its +terrible majesty. I beheld Him who is indeed the First and the Last, +and, with the two-edged sword that proceeded from his mouth, he pierced +my soul, full of evil, of wickedness, and of sin. + +All that evening I passed in a species of frenzy, an inward delirium, +that I know not how I was able to conceal. + +I withdrew from Pepita's house very early. + +The anguish of my soul was yet more poignant in solitude. + +When I recalled that kiss, and those words of farewell, I compared +myself with the traitor Judas, who made use of a kiss to betray; and +with the sanguinary and treacherous assassin Joab, who plunged the sharp +steel into the bowels of Amasa while in the act of kissing him. + +I had committed a double treason; I had been guilty of a double perfidy. +I had sinned against God and against her. + +I am an execrable wretch. + +_June 11th._ + +Everything may still be remedied. + +Pepita will, in time, forget her love and the weakness of which we were +guilty. + +Since that night I have not returned to her house. Antonona has not made +her appearance in ours. + +By dint of entreaties I have obtained a formal promise from my father +that we shall leave here on the 25th, the day after St. John's day, +which is here celebrated with splendid feasts, and on the eve of which +there is a famous vigil. + +Absent from Pepita, I begin to recover my serenity, and to think that +this first appearance of love was a trial of my virtue. + +All these nights I have prayed, I have watched, I have performed many +works of penance. + +The persistence of my prayers, the deep contrition of my soul, have +found favor with the Lord, who has manifested to me his great mercy. + +The Lord, in the words of the prophet, has sent fire to the stronghold +of my spirit, he has illuminated my understanding, he has kindled my +resolution, and he has given me instruction. The working of the Divine +love which animates the Supreme Will has had power, at times, without my +deserving it, to lead me to that condition of prayerful contemplation in +which all the faculties of the soul are in repose. I have cast out from +the lower faculties of my soul every species of image--even her image; +and I am persuaded, if vanity does not deceive me, that, mind and heart +in reconciliation, I have known and enjoyed the Supreme Good that dwells +within the depths of the soul. + +Compared with this good, all else is worthless; compared with this +beauty, all else is deformity. Who would not forget and scorn every +other love for the love of God? + +Yes, the profane image of this woman shall depart, finally and forever, +from my soul. I shall make of my prayers and of my penance a sharp +scourge, and with it I will expel her therefrom, as Christ expelled the +money-lenders from the temple. + +_June 18th._ + +This is the last letter I shall write to you. On the 25th I shall leave +this place without fail. + +I shall soon have the happiness of embracing you. Near you I shall be +stronger; you will infuse courage into me, and lend me the energy in +which I am wanting. + +A tempest of conflicting emotions is raging now in my soul. The disorder +of my ideas may be known by the disorder of what I write. + +Twice I returned to the house of Pepita. I was cold and stern. I was as +I ought to have been, but how much did it not cost me! + +My father told me yesterday that Pepita was indisposed, and would not +receive. + +The thought at once assailed me that the cause of her indisposition +might be her ill-requited love. + +Why did I return her glances of fire? Why did I basely deceive her? Why +did I make her believe I loved her? Why did my vile lips seek hers with +ardor, and communicate the ardor of an unholy love to hers? + +But no; my sin shall not be followed, as its unavoidable consequence, by +another sin! + +What has been, has been, and can not be undone; but a repetition of it +may be avoided, shall be avoided in future. + +On the 25th, I repeat, I shall depart from here without fail. + +The impudent Antonona has just come to see me. I hid this letter from +her, as if it were a crime to write to you. + +Antonona remained here only for a moment. + +I arose, and remained standing while I spoke to her, that the visit +might be a short one. + +During this short visit she gave utterance to a thousand absurdities +that afflict me profoundly. Finally, as she was going away, she +exclaimed, in her half-gypsy jargon: + +"Get away, you deceiver! you villain! my curse upon you! You have made +the child sick, and now you are killing her with your subterfuges. May +witches fly away with you, body and bones!" + +Having said this, the fiendish woman gave me, in a coarse plebeian +fashion, six or seven ferocious pinches below the shoulders, as if she +would like to tear the skin from my back in strips; and then went away, +looking daggers at me. + +I do not complain. I deserve this brutal jest, granting it to be a jest. +I deserve that fiends should tear my flesh with red-hot pincers. + +Grant, my God, that Pepita may forget me; let her, if it be necessary, +love another, and be happy with him! + +Can I do more than ask thee this, O my God? + +My father knows nothing, suspects nothing; it is better thus. + +Farewell for a few days, till we see and embrace each other again. + +How changed will you find me! How full of bitterness my heart! How lost +my innocence! How bruised and wounded my soul! + + + + +II. + +PARALIPOMENA. + + +Here end the letters of Don Luis de Vargas. We should therefore be left +in ignorance of the subsequent fortunes of these lovers, and this simple +and ardent love-story would have remained without an ending, if one +familiar with all the circumstances had not left us the following +narrative: + +No one in the village found anything strange in the fact of Pepita's +being indisposed, or thought, still less, of attributing her +indisposition to a cause of which only we, Pepita herself, Don Luis, the +reverend dean, and the discreet Antonona, are thus far cognizant. + +They might rather have wondered at the life, of gayety that Pepita had +been leading for some time past, at the daily gatherings at her house, +and the excursions into the country in which she had joined. That Pepita +should return to her habitual seclusion was quite natural. + +Her secret and deeply rooted love for Don Luis was hidden from the +searching glances of Dona Casilda, of Currito, and of all the other +personages of the village of whom mention is made in the letters of Don +Luis. Still less could the public know of it. It never entered into the +head, of any one--no one imagined for a moment that the theologian, the +_saint,_ as they called Don Luis, could become the rival of his father, +or could have succeeded where the redoubtable and powerful Don Pedro de +Vargas had failed--in winning the heart of the lovely, graceful, coy, +and reserved young widow. + +Notwithstanding the familiarity of the ladies of the village with their +servants, Pepita had allowed none of hers to suspect anything. Only the +lynx-eyed Antonona, whom nothing could escape, and more especially +nothing that concerned her young mistress, had penetrated the mystery. + +Antonona did not conceal her discovery from Pepita, nor could Pepita +deny the truth to the woman who had nursed her, who idolized her, and +who, if she delighted in finding out and gossiping about all that took +place in the village, being, as she was, a model scandal-monger, was +yet, in all that related to her mistress, reticent and loyal as but few +are. + +In this manner Antonona made herself the confidante of Pepita; and +Pepita found great consolation in unburdening her heart to one who, +though she might be cross and vulgar in the frankness with which she +expressed her sentiments, was not so either in the sentiments or the +ideas that she expressed. + +In this may be found the explanation of Antonona's visits to Don Luis, +as well as of her words, and even of the ferocious and disrespectful +pinches, given in so ill-chosen a spot, with which she bruised his flesh +and wounded his dignity, on the occasion of her last visit to him. + +Not only had Pepita not desired Antonona to carry messages to Don Luis, +but she did not even know that she had gone to see him. Antonona had +taken the initiative, and had interfered in the matter simply because +she herself had wanted to do so. + +As we have already said, she had, with wonderful perspicacity, made +herself acquainted with the state of affairs between her mistress and +Don Luis. + +While Pepita herself was still scarcely conscious of the fact that she +loved Don Luis, Antonona already knew it. Scarcely had Pepita begun to +cast on him those furtive glances, ardent and involuntary, that had +wrought such havoc--glances which had been intercepted by none of those +present when they were given--than Antonona, who was not present, had +already spoken of them to Pepita. And no sooner had those glances been +returned in kind, than Antonona also knew it. + +There was but little left, then, for the mistress to confide to a +servant of so much penetration, and who was so skilled in divination of +what passed in the inmost recesses of her breast. + + * * * * * + +Five days after the date of Don Luis's last letter, our narrative +begins. + +It was eleven o'clock in the morning. Pepita was in an apartment on an +upper floor, contiguous to her bedroom and dressing-room, where no one +ever entered without being summoned, save Antonona. + +The furniture of this apartment was simple, but comfortable and in good +taste. The curtains and the covering of the easy-chairs, the sofas and +the arm-chairs, were of a flowered cotton fabric. On a mahogany table +were writing materials and papers, and in a book-case, also of mahogany, +were many books of devotion and history. The walls were adorned with +pictures--engravings on religious subjects, but with this particularity +in their selection, unheard-of, extraordinary, almost incredible in an +Andalusian village, that, instead of being bad French lithographs, they +were engravings in the best style of Spanish art, as the _Spasimo di +Sicilia_, of Rafael; the _St. Ildefonso and the Virgin_, the +_Conception_, the _St. Bernard_, and the two _Lunettes_ of Murillo. + +On an antique oak table, supported by fluted columns, was a small +writing-desk, or escritoire, inlaid with shell, mother-of-pearl, ivory, +and brass, and containing a great many little drawers, in which Pepita +kept bills and other papers. On this table were also two porcelain vases +filled with flowers; and, finally, hanging against the walls, were +several flower-pots of Seville Carthusian ware, containing ivy, +geranium, and other plants, and three gilded cages, in which were +canaries and larks. + +This apartment was the retreat of Pepita, where no one entered during +the daytime except the doctor and the reverend vicar, and, in the +evening, only the overseer to settle accounts. This apartment was called +the library, and served the purpose of one. + +Pepita was seated, half reclining, on a sofa, before which stood a small +table with some books upon it. + +She had just risen, and was attired in a light summer wrapper. Her +blonde hair, not yet arranged, looked even more beautiful in its +disorder. Her countenance, somewhat pale, and, although it still +preserved its fresh and youthful aspect, showing dark circles under the +eyes, looked more beautiful than ever under the influence of the malady, +that robbed it of color. + +Pepita showed signs of impatience; she was waiting for some one. + +At last the person she was awaiting, who proved to be the reverend +vicar, arrived, and entered without announcement. + +After the usual salutations the reverend vicar settled himself +comfortably in an easy-chair, and the conversation thus began: + +"I am very glad, my child, that you sent for me; but, even without your +doing so, I was just coming to see you. How pale you are! What is it +that ails you? Have you something of importance to tell me?" + +Pepita began her answer to this series of affectionate inquiries with a +deep sigh; she then said: + +"Do you not divine my malady? Have you not discovered the cause of my +suffering?" + +The vicar made a gesture of denial, and looked at Pepita with something +like terror in his gaze; for he knew nothing of all that had taken +place, and was struck by the vehemence with which she spoke. + +Pepita continued: + +"I ought not to have sent for you, father. I should have gone to the +church myself instead, to speak with you in the confessional, and there +confess my sins. But, unhappily, far from repenting of them my heart has +hardened itself in wickedness. I have neither the courage nor the +desire to speak to the confessor, but only to the friend." + +"What are you saying about sins and hardness of heart? Have you taken +leave of your senses? What sins can you have committed, you who are so +good?" + +"No, father, I am not good. I have been deceiving you; I have been +deceiving myself; I have tried to deceive God." + +"Come, come, calm yourself; speak with moderation and common sense, and +don't talk foolishly." + +"And how shall I avoid talking foolishly when the spirit of evil +possesses me?" + +"Holy Virgin! Don't talk nonsense, child; the demons most to be feared +that take possession of the soul are three, and none of them, I am +certain, can have dared to enter into yours. One is Leviathan, or the +spirit of Pride; the other is Mammon, or the spirit of Avarice; and the +other is Asmodeus or the spirit of Unholy Love." + +"Well, I am the victim of all three; all three hold dominion over me." + +"This is dreadful! Calm yourself, I repeat. The real trouble with you is +that you are out of your head." + +"Would to God it were so! The contrary, unhappily for me, is the case. I +am avaricious, because I possess riches, and do not perform the works +of charity I ought to perform; I am proud, because I scorn the addresses +of my many suitors, not through virtue, not through modesty, but because +I thought them unworthy of my love. God has punished me; God has +permitted the third enemy you have named to take possession of me." + +"How is this, child? What diabolical notion has entered into your mind? +Have you by chance fallen in love? And, if you have, what harm is there +in that? Are you not free? Get married, then, and stop talking nonsense. +I am certain it is my friend Don Pedro de Vargas who has wrought the +miracle. That same Don Pedro is the very devil! I confess I am +surprised, though. I did not think matters had gone quite so far as that +already." + +"But it is not Don Pedro de Vargas I am in love with." + +"And with whom, then?" + +Pepita rose from her seat, went to the door, opened it, looked to see if +any one was listening outside, drew near to the reverend vicar, and, +with signs of the deepest distress, in a trembling voice, and with tears +in her eyes, said, almost in the ear of the good old man: + +"I am hopelessly in love with his son." + +"With whose son?" cried the reverend vicar, who could not yet bring +himself to believe what he had heard. + +"With whose son should it be? I am hopelessly, desperately in love with +Don Luis." + +Consternation and dolorous surprise were depicted on the countenance of +the kind and simple priest. There was a moment's pause; the vicar then +said: + +"But this is a love without hope; a love not to be thought of. Don Luis +will not love you in return." + +In the midst of the tears that clouded the beautiful eyes of Pepita +gleamed a joyful light; her rosy, dewy lips, contracted by sorrow, +parted in a smile, disclosing to view her pearly teeth. + +"He loves me," said Pepita, with a faint and ill-concealed accent of +satisfaction and triumph that rose exultant over her sorrow and her +scruples of conscience. + +The consternation and the astonishment of the reverend vicar here +reached their highest pitch. If the saint to whom he paid his most +fervent devotions had been suddenly cast down from the altar before him, +and had fallen, broken into a thousand fragments at his feet, the +reverend vicar could not have felt greater consternation than he did. He +still looked at Pepita with incredulity, as if doubting whether what she +had said were true, or only a delusion of feminine vanity, so firmly +did he believe in the holiness of Don Luis, and in his +spiritual-mindedness. + +"He loves me," Pepita repeated, in answer to his incredulous glance. + +"Women are worse than the very devil!" said the vicar. "You would set a +snare for the old boy himself." + +"Did I not tell you already that I was very wicked?" + +"Come, come! calm yourself. The mercy of God is infinite. Tell me all +that has happened." + +"What should have happened? That he is dear to me; that I love him; that +I adore him; that he loves me, too, although he strives to conquer his +love, and, in the end, may succeed in doing so; and that you, without +knowing it, are very much to blame for it all!" + +"Well, this caps the climax! What do you mean by saying I am very much +to blame?" + +"With the extreme goodness that is characteristic of you, you have done +nothing but praise Don Luis to me; and I am sure that you have +pronounced still greater eulogies on me to him, although very much less +deserved. What is the natural consequence? Am I of bronze? Have I not +the passions of youth?" + +"You are more than right; I am a dolt: I have contributed, in great +part, to this work of Lucifer." + +The reverend vicar was so truly good, and so full of humility, that, +while pronouncing the preceding words, he showed as much confusion and +remorse as if he were the culprit and Pepita the judge. + +Pepita, conscious of her injustice and want of generosity in thus making +the reverend vicar the accomplice, and scarcely less than the chief +author of her fault, spoke to him thus: + +"Don't torment yourself, father; for God's sake, don't torment yourself! +You see now how perverse I am. I commit the greatest sins, and I want to +throw the responsibility of them on the best and the most virtuous of +men. It is not the praises you have recited to me of Don Luis that have +been my ruin, but my own eyes, and my want of circumspection. Even +though you had never spoken to me of the good qualities of Don Luis, I +should still have discovered them all by hearing him speak; for, after +all, I am not so ignorant, nor so great a fool. And, in any case, I +myself have seen the grace of his person, the natural and untaught +elegance of his manners, his eyes full of fire and intelligence, his +whole self, in a word, which seems to me altogether amiable and +desirable. Your eulogies of him have indeed pleased my vanity, but they +did not awaken my inclinations. Your praises charmed me because they +coincided with my own opinion, and were like the flattering +echo--deadened, indeed, and faint--of my thoughts. The most eloquent +encomium you have pronounced, in my hearing, on Don Luis, was far from +being equal to the encomiums that I, at each moment, at each instant, +silently pronounced upon him in my own soul." + +"Don't excite yourself, child," interrupted the reverend vicar. + +Pepita continued, with still greater exaltation: + +"But what a difference between your encomiums and my thoughts! For you +Don Luis was the exemplary model of the priest, the missionary, the +apostle, now preaching the gospel in distant lands, now endeavoring in +Spain to elevate Christianity, so degraded in our day through the +impiety of some, and the want of virtue, of charity, and of knowledge, +of others. I, on the contrary, pictured him to myself handsome, loving, +forgetting God for me, consecrating his life to me, giving me his soul, +becoming my stay, my support, my sweet companion. I longed to commit a +sacrilegious theft: I dreamed of stealing him from God and from his +temple, like the thief who, proclaiming himself the enemy of Heaven, +robs the sacred monstrance of its most precious jewel. To commit this +theft I have put off the mourning garments of the widow and orphan, and +have decked myself with profane adornments; I have abandoned my +seclusion, and I have sought and gathered around me society. I have +tried to make myself look beautiful; I have cared for every part of this +miserable body--that must one day be lowered into the grave, and be +converted into dust--with an unholy devotion; and, finally, I have +looked at Don Luis with provoking glances, and on shaking hands with him +I have sought to transmit from my veins to his, the inextinguishable +fire that is consuming me." + +"Alas! my child, what grief it gives me to hear this! Who could have +imagined it?" said the vicar. + +"But there is still more," resumed Pepita; "I succeeded in making Don +Luis love me. He declared it to me with his eyes. Yes, his love is as +profound, as ardent as mine. His virtues, his aspirations toward +heavenly things, his manly energy, have all urged him to conquer this +insensate passion. I sought to prevent this. One day, at the end of many +days during which he had stayed away, he came to see me, and found me +alone. When he gave me his hand, I wept; I could not speak, but hell +inspired me with an accursed, mute eloquence that told him of my grief +that he had scorned me, that he did not return my love, that he +preferred another love--a love without stain--to mine. Then he was +unable to resist the temptation, and he approached his lips to my face +to kiss away my tears. Our lips met. If God had not willed that you +should approach at that moment, what would have become of me?" + +"How shameful! my child, how shameful!" said the reverend vicar. + +Pepita covered her face with both hands and began to sob like a +Magdalen. Her hands were, in truth, beautiful, more beautiful even than +Don Luis had described them to be in his letters. Their whiteness, their +pure transparency, the tapering form of the fingers, the roseate hue, +the polish and the brilliancy of the pearl-like nails, all were such as +might turn the head of any man. + +The virtuous vicar could understand, notwithstanding his eighty years, +the fall, or rather the slip, of Don Luis. + +"Child!" he exclaimed, "don't cry so! It breaks my heart to see you. +Calm yourself; Don Luis has no doubt repented of his sin; do you repent +likewise, and nothing more need be said. God will pardon you both, and +make a couple of saints of you. Since Don Luis is going away the day +after to-morrow, it is a sure sign that virtue has triumphed in him, and +that he flies from you, as he should, that he may do penance for his +sin, fulfill his vow, and return to his vocation." + +"That is all very well," replied Pepita; "fulfill his vow, return to his +vocation, after giving me my death-wound! Why did he love me, why did he +encourage me, why did he deceive me? His kiss was a brand, it was as a +hot iron with which he marked me and stamped me as his slave. Now that I +am marked and enslaved, he abandons and betrays and destroys me. A good +beginning to give to his missions, his preachings, and gospel triumphs! +It shall not be! By Heaven, it shall not be!" + +This outbreak of anger and scorned love confounded the reverend vicar. + +Pepita had risen. Her attitude, her gesture, had something in them of +tragic animation. Her eyes gleamed like daggers; they shone like two +suns. The vicar was silent, and regarded her almost with terror. She +paced with hasty steps up and down the apartment. She did not now seem +like a timid gazelle, but like an angry lioness. + +"What!" she said, once more facing the vicar, "has he nothing to do but +laugh at me, tear my heart to pieces, humiliate it, trample it under +foot, after having cheated me out of it? He shall remember me! He shall +pay me for this! If he is so holy, if he is so virtuous, why did he, +with his glance, promise me everything? If he loves God so much, why +does he seek to hurt one of God's poor creatures? Is this charity? Is +this religion? No; it is pitiless selfishness." + +Pepita's anger could not last long. After she had spoken the last words, +it turned to dejection. She sank into a chair, weeping bitterly, and +abandoning herself to an anguish heart-breaking to witness. + +The vicar's heart was touched with pity; but he recovered himself on +seeing that the enemy gave signs of yielding. + +"Pepita, child," he said, "be reasonable; don't torment yourself in this +way. Console yourself with the thought that it was not without a hard +struggle he was able to conquer himself; that he has not deceived you; +that he loves you with his whole soul, but that God and his duty come +first. This life is short, and soon passes. In heaven you will be +reunited, and will love each other, as the angels love. God will accept +your sacrifice; he will reward you, and repay you with interest. Even +your self-love ought to be satisfied. How great must be your merit, when +you have caused a man like Don Luis to waver in his resolution, and even +to sin! How deep must be the wound you have made in his heart! Let this +suffice you. Be generous! be courageous! Be his rival in firmness. Let +him depart; cast out from your heart the fire of impure love; love him +as your neighbor, for the love of God. Guard his image in your memory, +but as that of the creature, reserving to the Creator the noblest part +of your soul. I know not what I am saying to you, my child, for I am +very much troubled; but you have a great deal of intelligence and a +great deal of common sense, and you will understand what I mean. +Besides, there are powerful worldly reasons against this absurd love, +even if the vocation and the vow of Don Luis were not opposed to it. His +father is your suitor. He aspires to your hand, even though you do not +love him. Does it look well that the son should turn out now to be the +rival of his father? Will not the father be displeased with the son for +loving you? See how dreadful all this is, and control yourself for the +sake of Jesus and his blessed Mother." + +"How easy it is to give advice!" returned Pepita, becoming a little +calmer. "How hard for me to follow it, when there is a fierce and +unchained tempest, as it were, raging in my soul! I am afraid I shall go +mad." + +"The advice I give you is for your own good. Let Don Luis depart. +Absence is a great remedy for the malady of love. In giving himself up +to his studies, and consecrating himself to the service of the altar, he +will be cured of his passion. When he is far away, you will recover your +serenity by degrees, and will preserve in your memory only a grateful +and melancholy recollection of him that will do you no harm. It will be +like a beautiful poem whose music will harmonize your existence. Even if +all your desires could be fulfilled--earthly love lasts, after all, but +a short time. The delight the imagination anticipates in its +enjoyment--what is it in comparison with the bitter dregs that remain +behind, when the cup has been drained to the bottom? How much better is +it that your love, hardly yet contaminated, hardly despoiled of its +purity, should be dissipated, and exhale itself now, rising up to heaven +like a cloud of incense, than that, after it is once satisfied, it +should perish through satiety! Have the courage to put away from your +lips the cup while you have hardly tasted of its contents. Make of them +a libation and an offering to the Divine Redeemer. He will give you, in +exchange, the draught he offered to the Samaritan--a draught that does +not satiate, that quenches the thirst, and that produces eternal life." + +"How good you are, father! Your holy words lend me courage. I will +control myself; I will conquer myself. It would be shameful--would it +not?--that Don Luis should be able to control and conquer himself, and +that I should not be able to do so? Let him depart. He is going away the +day after to-morrow; let him go with God's blessing. See his card. He +was here with his father to take leave of me, and I would not receive +him. I do not even want to preserve the poetical remembrance of him of +which you speak. This love has been a nightmare; I will cast it away +from me." + +"Good! very good! It is thus that I want to see you--energetic, +courageous." + +"Ah, father, God has cast down my pride with this blow. I was insolent +in my arrogance, and the scorn of this man was necessary to my +self-abasement. Could I be more humbled or more resigned than I am now? +Don Luis is right: I am not worthy of him. However great the efforts I +might make, I could not succeed in elevating myself to him and +comprehending him, in putting my spirit into perfect communication with +his. I am a rude country girl, unlearned, uncultured; and he--there is +no science he does not understand, no secret of which he is ignorant, no +region of the intellectual world, however exalted, to which he may not +soar. Thither on the wings of his genius does he mount; and me he leaves +behind in this lower sphere, poor, ignorant woman that I am, incapable +of following him even in my hopes or with my aspirations." + +"But, Pepita, for Heaven's sake don't say such things, or think them! +Don Luis does not scorn you because you are ignorant, or because you are +incapable of comprehending him, or for any other of those absurd reasons +that you are stringing together. He goes away because he must fulfill +his obligation toward God; and you should rejoice that he is going away, +for you will then forget your love for him, and God will reward you for +the sacrifice you make." + + * * * * * + +Pepita, who had left off crying, and had dried her tears with her +handkerchief, answered quietly: + +"Very well, father; I shall be very glad of it; I am almost glad now +that he is going away. I long for to-morrow to pass, and for the time to +come when Antonona shall say to me on wakening, 'Don Luis is gone.' You +shall see then how peace and serenity will spring up again in my heart." + +"God grant it may be so!" said the reverend vicar; and, convinced that +he had wrought a miracle and almost cured Pepita's malady, he took leave +of her and went home, unable to repress a certain feeling of vanity at +the thought of the influence he had exercised over the noble spirit of +this charming woman. + +Pepita, who had risen as the reverend vicar was about to take his leave, +after she had closed the door, stood for a moment immovable in the +middle of the room, her gaze fixed on space, her eyes tearless. A poet +or an artist, seeing her thus, would have been reminded of Ariadne, as +Catullus describes her, after Theseus has abandoned her on the island +of Naxos. All at once, as if she had but just succeeded in untying the +knot of a cord that was strangling her, Pepita broke into heart-rending +sobs, let loose a torrent of tears, and threw herself down on the tiled +floor of her apartment. There, her face buried in her hands, her hair +unbound, her dress disordered, she continued to sigh and moan. + +She might have remained thus for an indefinite time if Antonona had not +come to her. Antonona had heard her sobs from without and hurried to her +apartment. When she saw her mistress extended on the floor, Antonona +gave way to a thousand extravagant expressions of fury. + +"Here's a pretty sight!" she cried; "that sneak, that blackguard, that +old fool, what a way he has to console his friends! I shouldn't wonder +if he has committed some piece of barbarity--given a couple of kicks to +this poor child, perhaps; and now I suppose he has gone back to the +church to get everything ready to sing the funeral chant, and sprinkle +her with hyssop, and bury her out of sight without more ado." + +Antonona was about forty, and a hard worker--energetic, and stronger +than many a laborer. She often lifted up, with scarcely more than the +strength of her hand, a skin of oil or of wine, weighing nearly ninety +pounds, and placed it on the back of a mule, or carried a bag of wheat +up to the garret where the grain was kept. Although Pepita was not a +feather, Antonona now lifted her up in her arms from the floor as if she +had been one, and placed her carefully on the sofa, as though she were +some delicate and precious piece of porcelain that she feared to break. + +"What is the meaning of all this?" asked Antonona. "I wager anything +that drone of a vicar has been preaching you a sermon as bitter as +aloes, and has left you now with your heart torn to pieces with grief." + +Pepita continued to weep and sob without answering. + +"Come, leave off crying, and tell me what is the matter. What has the +vicar said to you?" + +"He said nothing that could offend me," finally answered Pepita. + +Then, seeing that Antonona was waiting anxiously to hear her speak, and +feeling the need of unburdening herself to some one who could sympathize +more fully with her, and, humanly speaking, could better comprehend her +than the vicar, Pepita spoke as follows: + +"The reverend vicar has admonished me gently to repent of my sins; to +allow Don Luis to go away; to rejoice at his departure; to forget him. I +have said yes to everything; I have promised him to rejoice at Don +Luis's departure; I have tried to forget him, and even to hate him. But +look you, Antonona, I can not; it is an undertaking superior to my +strength. While the vicar was here, I thought I had strength for +everything; but no sooner had he gone than, as if God had let go his +hold of me, I lost my courage, and fell, crushed with sorrow, on the +floor. I had dreamed of a happy life at the side of the man I love; I +already saw myself elevated to him by the miraculous power of love; my +poor mind in perfect communion with his sublime intellect; my will one +with his; both thinking the same thought; our hearts beating in unison. +And now God has taken him away from me, and I am left alone, without +hope or consolation. Is not this frightful? The arguments of the +reverend vicar are just and full of wisdom; for the time, they convinced +me. But he has gone away, and all those arguments now seem to me +worthless--a tissue of words, lies, entanglements, and sophistries. I +love Don Luis, and this argument is more powerful than all other +arguments put together. And if he loves me in return, why does he not +leave everything and come to me, break the vows he has taken, and +renounce the obligations he has contracted? I did not know what love +was; now I know; there is nothing stronger on earth or in heaven. What +would I not do for Don Luis? And he--he does nothing for me! Perhaps he +does not love me. No; Don Luis does not love me. I have deceived +myself; I was blinded by vanity. If Don Luis loved me, he would +sacrifice his plans, his vows, his fame, his aspirations to be a saint +and a light of the Church, he would sacrifice all to me. God forgive me, +what I am about to say is horrible, but I feel it here in the depths of +my heart, it burns here in my fevered brow: for him I would give even +the salvation of my soul!" + +"Holy Virgin!" exclaimed Antonona. + +"It is true; may our blessed Lady of Sorrows pardon me--I am mad--I know +not what I say. I blaspheme!" + +"Yes, child; you are talking indeed a little naughtily. Heaven help us! +To think how this cox-comb of a theologian has turned your head! Well, +if I were in your place, I would not take Heaven to task, which is in no +wise to blame, but this jackanapes of a collegian, and I would have it +out with him, or never again call myself Pepita Ximenez. I should like +to go hunt him up, and bring him here to you by the ear, and make him go +down on his knees before you, and beg your pardon." + +"No, Antonona; I see that my madness is contagious, and that you are +raving, too. There is, in fact, nothing left for me to do but what the +reverend vicar advises. And I will do it, even though it should cost me +my life. If I die for him, he will then love me; he will cherish my +image in his memory, my love in his heart; and God, who is so good, will +permit me to see him again in heaven with the eyes of the soul, and will +let our spirits mingle together and love each other there." + +Antonona, although of a rugged nature, and not at all sentimental, on +hearing these words felt the tears start to her eyes. + +"Good gracious, child!" she said; "do you want to make me take out my +handkerchief and begin to bellow like a calf? Calm yourself, and don't +talk about dying, even in jest. I can see that your nerves are very much +excited. Shan't I bring you a cup of linden tea?" + +"No, thanks; leave me; you see how calm I am now." + +"I shall close the window, then, to see if you can sleep. How should you +feel well, when you have not slept for days? The devil take that same +Don Luis, with his fancy for making himself a priest! A nice price you +are paying for it!" + +Pepita had closed her eyes; she was calm and silent, weary now of her +colloquy with Antonona. + +The latter, either thinking she was asleep, or hoping her to be so, bent +over Pepita, imprinted a kiss softly and slowly on her white forehead, +smoothed oat the folds of her dress, arranged the windows so as to leave +the room in semi-obscurity, and went out on tiptoe, closing the door +behind her without making the slightest noise. + + * * * * * + +While these things were taking place at the house of Pepita, Don Luis de +Vargas in his was neither happier nor more tranquil than was she +herself. + +His father, who scarcely let a day pass without riding out into the +country, had to-day wished to take Don Luis with him; but, with the +pretext of a headache, he had excused himself, and Don Pedro had gone +without him. Don Luis had spent the whole morning alone, delivered up to +his melancholy thoughts, and continuing firm as a rock in his resolution +of blotting from his soul the image of Pepita, and of consecrating +himself wholly to God. + +Let it not be supposed, however, that he did not love the young widow. +We have already, in his letters, seen the proof of the vehemence of his +passion for her, but he continued his efforts to curb it by means of the +devout sentiments and elevated reflections of which he has given us in +his letters so extended a specimen, and of which we may here omit a +repetition, in order not to appear prolix. + +Perhaps, if we examine into this matter closely, we shall find that the +reasons which militated in the breast of Don Luis against his love for +Pepita were not only his vow to himself, which, though unconfirmed, was +binding in his eyes, or the love of God, or respect for his father, +whose rival he did not wish to be, or, finally, the vocation which he +felt himself to have for the priesthood. There were other reasons of a +more doubtful character than these. + +Don Luis was stubborn; he was obstinate; he had that quality of soul +which, well directed, constitutes what is called firmness of character, +and there was nothing that lowered him more in his own eyes than to feel +himself obliged to change his opinions or his conduct. The purpose of +his life, a purpose which he had declared and maintained on all +occasions, his moral ideal, in a word, was that of an aspirant to +holiness, of a man consecrated to God, of one imbued with the sublimest +religious teachings. All this could not fall to earth, as it would fall, +if he allowed himself to be carried away by his love for Pepita, without +great discredit. Although the price, indeed, was in this case +incomparably higher, yet Don Luis felt that, should he yield to his +passion, he would be following the example of Esau, selling his +birthright and bringing opprobrium on his name. + +Men, as a rule, allow themselves to be the plaything of circumstances; +they let themselves be carried along by the current of events, instead +of devoting all their energies to one single aim. We do not choose our +part in life, but accept and play the part allotted us, that which blind +fortune assigns to us. The profession, the political faith, the entire +life of many men depend on chance circumstances, on what is fortuitous, +on the caprice and the unexpected turns of fate. + +Against all this the pride of Don Luis rebelled with titanic power. What +would be thought of him, and above all, what would he think of himself +if the ideal of his life, the new man that he had created in his soul, +if all his plans of virtue, of honor, and even of holy ambition, should +vanish in an instant, should melt away in the warmth of a glance, at the +fugitive flame of a pair of beautiful eyes, as the hoar-frost melts in +the yet mild ray of the morning sun? + +These and other reasons of a like egotistic nature also militated, in +the breast of Don Luis, side by side with more weighty and legitimate +ones, against the widow; but every argument clothed itself in the same +religious garb, so that Don Luis himself was unable to recognize and +distinguish between them, believing to be the love of God not only what +was in truth the love of God, but also self-love. He recalled to mind, +for instance, the examples of many saints who had resisted greater +temptations than his, and he did not wish to be less than they. And he +recalled to mind, above all, the notable firmness of St. Chrysostom, who +was able to disregard the caresses of a tender and good mother, and her +tears and gentle entreaties, and all the eloquent and touching words she +spoke to him, in the very room where he was born, to the end that he +might not abandon her and become a priest. And, after reflecting on +this, Don Luis could not tolerate in himself the weakness of being +unable to scorn the entreaties of a woman who was a stranger to him, +whom he had known for so short a time, and of still wavering between his +duty and the attractions of one who was, perhaps, after all, rather than +enamored of him, merely a coquette. + +Don Luis then reflected on the supreme elevation of the sacerdotal +dignity to which he was called, regarding it in his thoughts as superior +to all the dignities and unsatisfying honors of the world; since it was +founded, neither by any mortal man, nor by the caprice of the variable +and servile populace, nor by the irruption or invasion of barbarians, +nor by the violence of rebellious armies urged on by greed, nor by angel +nor archangel, nor by any created power, but by the Paraclete himself. +How, for a motive so unworthy, for a mere woman, for a tear or two, +feigned, perhaps, scorn that august dignity, that authority that was not +conceded by God even to the archangels nearest to his throne? How +should he descend to be confounded among the obscure people, and become +one of the flock--he who had dreamed of being the shepherd, tying and +untying on earth what God should tie and untie in heaven, pardoning +sins, regenerating the people by water and by the spirit, teaching them +in the name of an infallible authority, pronouncing judgments that +should be ratified and confirmed by the Lord of the heavens--he, the +instructor and the minister in tremendous mysteries inscrutable by human +reason, calling down from heaven, not, like Elias, the flame that +consumes the victim, but the Holy Spirit, the Word made flesh, the river +of grace that purifies hearts and makes them clean like unalloyed gold? + +When Don Luis let his mind dwell on these thoughts, his spirit took +wings and soared up above the clouds into the empyrean, and poor Pepita +Ximenez remained below, far away, and hardly within sight. + +But the wings of his imagination soon drooped, and the spirit of Don +Luis touched earth again. Again he saw Pepita, so graceful, so young, so +ingenuous, and so enamored. Pepita combated in his soul his firmest and +most deep-seated resolutions, and Don Luis feared that in the end she +would put them all to flight. + +In this way was Don Luis allowing himself to be tormented by opposing +thoughts, that made war on each other, when Currito, without asking +leave or license, entered his room. + +Currito, who had held his cousin in very slight esteem so long as he was +only a student of theology, now regarded him with wonder and veneration, +looking upon him, from the moment when he had seen him manage Lucero so +skillfully, as something more than human. + +To know theology, and to be ignorant of horsemanship, was something +unflattering to Don Luis in the eyes of Currito; but when Currito saw +that, in addition to his learning, and to all those other matters of +which he himself knew nothing, although he supposed them to be difficult +and perplexing, Don Luis knew, besides, how to keep his seat so +admirably on the back of a fiery horse, his veneration and his affection +for his cousin knew no bounds. Currito was an idler, a good-for-nothing, +a very block of wood, but he had an affectionate and loyal heart. + +To Don Luis, who was the idol of Currito, happened what happens to all +superior natures when inferior persons take a liking to them. Don Luis +permitted himself to be loved, that is to say, he was governed +despotically by Currito in matters of little importance. And, as for men +like Don Luis there are hardly any matters of importance in common +daily life, the result was that Don Luis was led about by Currito like a +little dog. + +"I have come for you," the latter said, "to take you with me to the +club-house, which is full of people to-day, and presents a very animated +appearance. What is the use of sitting here longer, gazing into vacancy, +as if you were waiting to catch flies?" + +Don Luis, without offering any resistance, and as if these words were a +command, took his hat and cane, and saying, "Let us go wherever you +wish," followed Currito, who led the way, very well pleased with the +influence he exercised over his cousin. + +The club-house was full of people, owing to the festivities of the +morrow, which was St. John's day. Besides the gentry of the village, +many strangers were there, who had come in from the neighboring villages +to be present at the fair and the vigil in the evening. + +The principal point of reunion was the court-yard, which was paved with +marble. In its center played a fountain, which was adorned with +flower-pots containing roses, pinks, sweet-basil, and other flowers. +Around this court-yard ran a corridor or gallery, supported by marble +columns, in which, as well as in the various saloons that opened into +it, were tables for _ombre_, others with newspapers lying on them, +others where coffee and other refreshments were served, and finally, +lounges, benches, and several easy-chairs. The walls were like snow, +from frequent whitening; nor were pictures wanting for their adornment. +There were French colored lithographs, a minute explanation of the +subject of each being written, both in French and in Spanish below. Some +of them represented scenes to The life of Napoleon, from Toulon to St. +Helena; others, the adventures of Matilda and Malek-Adel; others. +Incidents in love and war, in the lives of the Templar, Rebecca, Lady +Rowena, and Ivanhoe; and others, the gallantries, the intrigues, the +lapses and the conversions of Louis XIV. and Mademoiselle de la +Valliere. + +Currito took Don Luis, and Don Luis allowed himself to be taken, to the +saloon where were gathered the cream of the fashion, the dandies and +_cocodes_ of the village and of the surrounding district. Prominent +among these was the Count of Genazahar, of the neighboring city of--. +The Count was an illustrious and much admired personage. He had made +visits of great length to Madrid and Seville, and, whether as a country +dandy or as a young nobleman, was always attired by the most fashionable +tailors. + +The Count of Genazahar was a little past thirty. He was good-looking, +and he knew it; and could boast of his prowess in peace and in war, in +duels and in love-making. The Count, however--and this notwithstanding +the fact that he had been one of the most persistent suitors of +Pepita--had received the sugar-coated pill of refusal that she was +accustomed to bestow on those who paid their addresses to her and +aspired to her hand. + +He had not yet recovered from the irritation produced in his proud heart +by this rejection. Love had turned into hatred, and the count lost no +occasion of giving utterance to his feelings, holding Pepita up, on such +occasions, to the most merciless ridicule. + +The count was engaged in this agreeable exercise, when, by an evil +chance, Don Luis and Currito approached, and joined the crowd that was +listening to the odd species of panegyric, which opened to receive them. +Don Luis, as if the devil himself had had the arrangement of the matter, +found himself face to face with the count, who was speaking as follows: + +"She's a cunning one, this same Pepita Ximenez, with more fancies and +whims than the Princess Micomicona. She wants to make us forget that she +was born in poverty, and lived in poverty until she married that +accursed usurer, Don Gumersindo, and took possession of his dollars. The +only good action this same widow has performed in her life was to +conspire with Satan to send the rogue quickly to hell, and free the +earth from such a contamination and plague. Pepita now has a hobby for +virtue and for chastity. All that may be very well; but how do we know +that she has not a secret intrigue with some plowboy, and is not +deceiving the world as if she were Queen Artemisia herself?" + +People of quiet tastes, who seldom take part in reunions of men only, +may perhaps be scandalized by this language; it may appear to them +indecent and brutal, even to the point of incredibility; but those who +know the world will confess that language like this is very generally +employed in it, and that the most amiable and agreeable women, the most +honorable matrons, if they chance to have an enemy, or even without +having one, are often made the subjects of accusations no less infamous +and vile than those made by the count against Pepita; for scandal is +often indulged in, or, to speak more accurately, dishonor and insult are +disseminated, for the purpose of showing wit and the power to entertain. + +Don Luis--who, from a child, had been accustomed to the consideration +and respect of those around him, first, of the servants and dependents +of his father, who gratified him in all his wishes, and then, of every +one in the seminary, where, as well because he was a nephew of the dean, +as on account of his own merits, he had never been contradicted in +anything, but, on the contrary, always pleased and flattered--stood, +when he heard the insolent count thus drag in the dust the name of the +woman he loved, as if a thunderbolt had fallen at his feet. + +But how undertake her defense? He knew, indeed, that although he was +neither husband, brother, nor other relative of Pepita's, he might yet +come forward in her defense, as a man of honor; but he saw well the +scandal this would give rise to, since, far from saying a word in her +favor, all the other persons present joined in applauding the wit of the +count. He, already the minister, almost, of a God of peace, could not be +the one to give the lie to this ruffian, and thus expose himself to the +risk of a quarrel. + +Don Luis was on the point of departing in silence. But his heart would +not consent to this, and, striving to clothe himself with an authority +which was justified neither by his years nor by his countenance, where +the beard had scarcely begun to make its appearance, nor by his presence +in that place, he began to speak with earnest eloquence in denunciation +of all slanderers, and to reproach the count, with the freedom of a +Christian and in severe accents, with the vileness of his conduct. + +This was to preach in the desert, or worse. The count answered his +homily with gibes and jests; the by-standers, among whom were many +strangers, took the part of the jester, notwithstanding the fact that +Don Luis was the son of the squire. Even Currito, who was of no account +whatever, and who was, besides, a coward, although he did not laugh, yet +made no effort to take the part of his friend, and the latter was +obliged to withdraw, disturbed and humiliated by the ridicule he had +drawn on himself. + + * * * * * + +"This flower only was wanting to complete the nosegay," muttered poor +Don Luis between his teeth when he had reached his house and shut +himself up in his room, vexed and ill at ease because of the jeers of +which he had been the butt. He exaggerated them to himself; they seemed +to him unendurable. He threw himself into a chair, depressed and +disheartened, and a thousand contradictory ideas assailed his mind at +once. + +The blood of his father, which boiled in his veins, incited him to +anger, and urged him to throw aside the clerical garb, as he had in the +beginning been advised to do in the village, and then give the count his +deserts; but the whole future he had planned for himself would be thus, +at a blow, destroyed. He pictured to himself the dean disowning him; and +even the Pope, who had already sent the pontifical dispensation +permitting him to be ordained before the required age, and the bishop +of the diocese, who had based the petition for the dispensation on his +approved virtue and learning and on the firmness of his vocation, all +appeared before him now to reproach him. + +Then the humorous theory of his father in regard to those other +arguments, in addition to those of persuasion, of which the apostle St. +James, the bishops of the middle ages, and St. Ignatius Loyola had made +use, occurred to his mind, and it seemed to him now not so preposterous +as before, and he almost repented not having put them into practice. + +He then recalled to mind the custom of an orthodox doctor, a +distinguished philosopher of Persia, of our own day, mentioned in a book +recently written on that country--a custom which consisted in punishing +with harsh words his hearers and pupils when they laughed at his +teachings or could not understand them, and, if this did not suffice, in +descending from his chair, saber in hand, and giving them all a beating. +This method, as it appears, had proved efficacious, especially in +controversy; although it had chanced that the said philosopher, coming +across an opponent of the same way of thinking as himself, had received +from him a severe wound in the face. + +Don Luis, in the midst of his mortification and ill-humor, could not +help laughing at the absurdity of this recollection. He thought there +were not wanting in Spain philosophers who would willingly adopt the +Persian method; and, if he himself did not put it into practice, it was +certainly not through fear of the wounds he might receive, but through +considerations of greater weight. + +"I did very wrong in preaching there," he said to himself. "I should +have remained silent. Our Lord Jesus Christ has said, 'Give not that +which is holy to dogs, neither cast ye your pearls before swine, lest +they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.' + +"But, no; why should I complain? Why should I return insult for insult? +Why should I allow myself to be vanquished by anger! Many holy fathers +have said, 'Anger in a priest is even worse than lasciviousness.' The +anger of priests has caused many tears to be shed, and has been the +cause of terrible evils. + +"Anger perhaps it was--this terrible counselor--that at times persuaded +them that it was necessary for the people to shed blood at the Divine +command, and that brought before their sanguinary eyes the vision of +Isaiah; they have then seen, and caused their fanatic followers to see, +the meek Lamb converted into an inexorable avenger, descending from the +summit of Edom, proud in the multitude of his strength, trampling the +nations under foot, as the treader tramples the grapes in the +wine-press, their garments raised, and covered with blood to the thighs. +Ah, no; my God! I am about to become thy minister. Thou art a God of +peace, and my first duty should be meekness. Thou makest the sun to +shine on the just and the unjust, and pourest down upon all alike the +fertilizing rain of thy inexhaustible goodness. Thou art our Father who +dwellest in the heavens, and we should be perfect, even as thou art +perfect, pardoning those who have offended us, and asking thee to pardon +them, because they know not what they do. I should recall to mind the +beatitudes of the Scripture: Blessed are ye when they revile you and +persecute you, and say all manner of evil things against you. The +minister of God, or he who is about to become his minister, must be +humble, peaceable, meek of heart; not like the oak that lifts itself up +proudly, until the thunderbolt strike it, but like the fragrant herbs of +the woods, and the modest flowers of the fields, that give sweeter and +more grateful perfume after the rustic has trodden them under foot." + +In these and other meditations of a like nature the hours passed until +three o'clock, when Don Pedro, who had just returned from the country, +entered his son's room to call him to dinner. The gay joviality of his +father, his jest, his affectionate attentions daring the meal, were all +of no avail to draw Don Luis from his melancholy, or to give him an +appetite; he ate little, and scarcely spoke while they were at table. + +Although much troubled by the silent melancholy of his son, whose +health, though indeed robust, was yet not beyond risk of being affected, +Don Pedro, who rose with the dawn and had a busy time of it during the +day, when he had finished his after-dinner cigar and taken his cup of +coffee and his glass of anisette, felt fatigued, and went, according to +his custom, to take his two or three hours of _siesta_. + +Don Luis had taken good care not to draw the attention of his father to +the offense done him by the Count of Genazahar. His father, who, for his +part, had no intention of fitting himself to celebrate mass, and who, +besides, was not of a very meek disposition, would have rushed +instantly, had he done so, to take the vengeance Don Luis had failed to +take. + +When his father had retired, Don Luis also left the dining-room, that he +might, in the seclusion of his own apartment, give himself up +undisturbed to his thoughts. + + * * * * * + +He had been sunk in them for a long time, seated before his desk, with +his elbows resting upon it, when he heard a noise close by. He raised +his eyes, and saw standing beside him the meddlesome Antonona, who, +although of such massive proportions, had entered like a shadow, and was +now watching him attentively with a mixture of pity and of anger in her +glance. + +Antonona, taking advantage of the hour in which the servants dined and +Don Pedro slept, had penetrated thus far without being observed, and had +opened the door of the room and closed it behind her so gently that Don +Luis, even if he had been less absorbed in meditation than he was, would +not have noticed it. + +She had come resolved to hold a very serious conference with Don Luis, +but she did not quite know what she was going to say to him. +Nevertheless, she had asked heaven or hell, whichever of the two it may +have been, to loosen her tongue and bestow upon her the gift of speech; +not such grotesque and vulgar speech as she generally used, but correct, +elegant, and adapted to the noble reflections and beautiful things she +thought it necessary for the carrying out of her purpose to say. + +When Don Luis saw Antonona, he frowned, and showed by his manner how +much this visit displeased him, at the same time saying roughly: + +"What do you want here? Go away!" + +"I have come to call you to account about my young mistress," returned +Antonona, quietly, "and I shall not go away until you have answered +me." + +She then drew a chair toward the table and sat down in it, facing Don +Luis with coolness and effrontery. + +Don Luis, seeing there was no help for it, restrained his anger, armed +himself with patience, and, in accents less harsh than before, +exclaimed: + +"Say what you have to say!" + +"I have to say," resumed Antonona, "that what you are plotting against +my mistress is a piece of wickedness. You are behaving like a villain. +You have bewitched her; you have given her some malignant potion. The +poor angel is going to die; she neither eats nor sleeps, nor has a +moment's peace, on account of you. To-day she has had two or three +hysterical attacks at the bare thought of your going away. A good deed +you have done before becoming a priest! Tell me, wretch, why did you not +stay where you were, with your uncle, instead of coming here? She, who +was so free, so completely mistress of her own will, enslaving that of +others, and allowing her own to be taken captive by none, has fallen +into your treacherous snares. Your hypocritical sanctity was, doubtless, +the lure you employed. With your theologies and your pious humbugs you +have acted like the wily and cruel sportsman, who attracts to him by his +whistle the silly thrushes, only to strangle them in the net." + +"Antonona," returned Don Luis, "leave me in peace. For God's sake, +cease to torture me! I am a villain; I confess it. I ought not to have +looked at your mistress; I ought not to have allowed her to believe that +I loved her; but I loved her, and I love her still, with my whole heart; +and I have given her no other potion or philter than the love I have for +her. It is my duty, nevertheless, to cast away, to forget this love. God +commands me to do so. Do you imagine that the sacrifice I make will not +be--is not already--a tremendous one? Pepita ought to arm herself with +fortitude and make a similar sacrifice." + +"You do not give even that consolation to the unhappy creature," replied +Antonona. "You sacrifice voluntarily, on the altar, this woman who loves +you, who is already yours--your victim. But she--what claim has she on +you that she should offer you up as a sacrifice? What is the precious +jewel she is going to renounce, what the beautiful ornament she is going +to cast into the flames, but an ill-requited love? How is she going to +give to God what she does not possess? Is she going to try to cheat God, +and say to him: 'My God, since he does not love me, here he is; I offer +him up to you; I will not love him either.' God never laughs--if he did, +he would laugh at such a present as that!" + +Don Luis, confounded, did not know what answer to return to these +arguments of Antonona, more atrocious than her former pinches. Besides, +it was repugnant to him to discuss the metaphysics of love with a +servant. + +"Let us leave aside," he said, "these idle discussions. I can not cure +the malady of your mistress. What would you have me do?" + +"What would I have you do?" replied Antonona, more gently, and with +insinuating accents; "I will tell you what I would have you do. If you +can not cure the malady of my mistress, you should, at least, alleviate +it a little. Are you not saintly? Well, the saints are compassionate, +and courageous besides. Don't run away like an ill-mannered coward, +without saying good-by. Come to see my mistress, who is sick. Do this +work of mercy." + +"And what would be gained by such a visit? It would aggravate her +malady, instead of curing it." + +"It will not do so; you don't see the matter in its proper light. You +shall go to see her, and, with your honeyed tongue and the gift of the +gab that nature has bestowed upon you, you will put some resignation +into her soul, and leave her consoled for your departure; and if you +tell her, in addition to this, that you love her, and that it is only +for the sake of God you are leaving her, her woman's vanity, at least, +will not be wounded." + +"What you propose to me is to tempt God; it is dangerous both for her +and for me." + +"And why should it be to tempt God? Since God can see the rectitude and +the purity of your intentions, will he not grant you his favor and his +grace that you may not yield to temptation during the visit to her, +which it is but justice you should make? Ought you not to fly to her to +deliver her from despair, and bring her back to the right path? If she +should die of grief at seeing herself scorned; or if, in a frenzy, she +should seize a rope and hang herself to a beam, I tell you, your remorse +would be harder to bear than the flames of pitch and sulphur that +surround the caldrons of Lucifer." + +"This is horrible! I would not have her grow desperate. I shall arm +myself with courage--I will go to see her." + +"May Heaven bless you! But my heart told me you would go. How good you +are!" + +"When do you wish me to go?" + +"To-night, at ten o'clock precisely. I will be at the street-door +waiting for you, and will take you to her." + +"Does she know you have come to see me?" + +"She does not--it was all my own idea; but I will prepare her +cautiously, so that the surprise, the unexpected joy of your visit, may +not be too much for her. You promise me to come?" + +"I will go." + +"Good-by. Don't fail to come. At ten o'clock precisely. I shall be at +the door." + +And Antonona hurried away, descended the steps two at a time, and so +gained the street. + + * * * * * + +It can not be denied that Antonona displayed great prudence on this +occasion, and that her language was so dignified and proper that some +may think it apocryphal, if there were not the very best authority for +all that is related here, and if we did not know, besides, the wonders +the natural cleverness of a woman may work when she is spurred on by +interest or by some strong passion. + +Great, indeed, was the affection Antonona entertained for her mistress, +and, seeing her so much in love and in such desperate case, she could do +no less than seek a remedy for her ills. The consent she had succeeded +in obtaining from Don Luis to her request that he should pay a visit to +Pepita was an unexpected triumph; and, in order to derive the greatest +possible advantage from this triumph, she was obliged to make the most +of her time, and to use all her worldly wisdom in preparing for the +occasion. + +Antonona had suggested ten as the hour of Don Luis's visit, because this +was the hour in which Don Luis and Pepita had been accustomed to see +each other in the now abolished or suspended gatherings at the house of +the later. She had suggested this hour also in order to avoid giving +rise to scandal or slander; for she had once heard a preacher say that, +according to the gospel, there is nothing so wicked as scandal, and that +the scandal-monger ought to be flung into the sea with a mill-stone hung +round his neck. + +Antonona, then, returned to the house of her mistress, very well +satisfied with herself and with the firm determination so to arrange +matters that the remedy she had sought should not prove useless, or +aggravate instead of curing Pepita's malady. She resolved to say nothing +of the matter to Pepita herself until the last moment, when she would +tell her that Don Luis had asked her of his own accord at what hour he +might make a farewell visit, and that she had said ten. + +In order to avoid giving rise to talk, she determined that Don Luis +should not be seen to enter the house, and for this the hour and the +internal arrangement of the house itself were alike propitious. At ten +the street would be full of people, on account of the vigil, which would +make it easier for Don Luis to reach the house without being observed. +To enter the hall would be the work of a moment, and Antonona, who would +be waiting for him, could then take him to the library without any one +seeing him. + +All, or at least the greater part, of the handsome country-houses of +Andalusia are in construction double rather than single houses. Each +house, of these double houses, has its own door. The principal door +leads to the court-yard, which is pared and surrounded by columns, to +the parlors and the other apartments of the family; the other to the +inner yards, the stable and coach-house, the kitchens, the mill, the +wine-press, the granaries, the buildings where are kept the oil, the +must, the alcohol, the brandy and the vinegar, in large jars; and the +cask stores, or cellars, where the newly made wine, and that which has +been long kept, is stored in pipes or barrels. This second house, or +portion of a house, although it may be situated in the heart of a town +of twenty or twenty-five thousand inhabitants, is called _farm-house_. +The overseer, the foreman, the muleteer, the principal workmen, and the +domestics who have been longest in the service of the master, are +accustomed to gather here in the evenings, during the winter, around the +enormous fireplace of a spacious kitchen, and in summer in the open air, +or in some cool and well-ventilated apartment, and there chat or take +their ease until the master's family are about to retire. + +Antonona was of opinion that the colloquy or explanation, which she +desired should take place between her mistress and Don Luis required +tranquillity, and should be interrupted by no one; and she therefore +determined that, as it was St. John's eve, the maid-servants of Pepita +should be to-night released from all their occupations, and should go to +amuse themselves at the farm-house, where, in union with the rustic +laborers, they might get up impromptu amusements, to consist of +fandangos, the recitation of pretty verses, playing the castanets, jigs, +and country-dances. + +In this manner the dwelling-house--without other occupants than Pepita +and herself--would be silent and almost deserted, and suited to the +solemnity and undisturbed quiet desirable in the interview she had +planned, and on which perhaps--or rather to a certainty--depended the +fate of two persons of such distinguished merit. + + * * * * * + +While Antonona went about turning over and arranging in her mind all +these things, Don Luis had no sooner been left alone than he regretted +having proceeded with so much haste, and weakly consenting to the +interview Antonona had asked of him. As he reflected upon it, it seemed +to him more full of peril than those of Oenone or Celestina. He saw +before him all the danger to which he voluntarily exposed himself, and +he could see no advantage whatever in thus making in secret, and by +stealth, a visit to the beautiful widow. + +To go and see her in order to succumb to her attractions and fall into +her snares, making a mockery of his vows, and placing not only the +bishop, who had indorsed his petition for a dispensation, but even the +holy Pontiff, who had conceded it, in a false position, by relinquishing +his purpose of becoming a priest, seemed to him very dishonorable. It +was, besides, a treason against his father, who loved Pepita and desired +to marry her; and to visit her in order to undeceive her in regard to +his love for her, seemed to him a greater refinement of cruelty than to +depart without saying anything. + +Influenced by these considerations, the first thought of Don Luis was to +fail, without excuse or warning, to keep his appointment, and leave +Antonona to wait in vain for him in the hall; but then, as Antonona had, +in all probability, already announced his visit to her mistress, he +would, by failing to go, unpardonably offend, not only Antonona, but +Pepita herself. + +He then resolved on writing Pepita a very affectionate and discreet +letter, excusing himself from going to see her, justifying his conduct, +consoling her, manifesting his tender sentiments toward her, while +letting her see that duty and Heaven were before everything, and +endeavoring to inspire her with the courage to make the same sacrifice +as he himself was making. + +He made four or five different attempts to write this letter. He blotted +a great deal of paper which he afterward tore up, and could not, in the +end, succeed in getting the letter to his taste. Now it was dry, cold, +pedantic, like a poor sermon or a school-master's discourse; now its +contents betrayed a childish apprehension, as if Pepita were a monster +lying in wait to devour him; now it had other faults not less serious. +In fine, after wasting many sheets of paper in the attempt, the letter +remained unwritten. + +"There is no help for it," said Don Luis to himself; "the die is cast. I +must only summon courage and go." + +He comforted his spirit with the hope that his self-control would not +forsake him during the coming interview; and that God would endow his +lips with eloquence to persuade Pepita, who was so good, that it was she +herself who, sacrificing her earthly love, urged him to fulfill his +vocation, resembling in this those holy women of whom there are not +wanting examples, who not only renounced the society of a bridegroom or +a lover, but even the companionship of a husband, as is narrated, for +instance, in the life of St. Edward, of England, whose queen lived with +him as a sister. + +Don Luis felt himself consoled and encouraged by this thought, and he +already pictured himself as St. Edward, and Pepita as Queen Edith. And +under the form and in the character of this virgin queen, Pepita +appeared to him, if possible, more graceful, charming, and romantic +than ever. + +Don Luis was not, however, altogether so secure of himself, or so +tranquil, as he should have been, after forming the resolution of +following the example of St. Edward. There seemed to him something +almost criminal, which he could not well define, in the visit he was +about to make to Pepita without his father's knowledge. He felt tempted +to awaken him from his _siesta_, and to reveal everything to him; two or +three times he rose from his chair with this purpose; then he stopped, +feeling that such a revelation would be dishonoring, and a disgraceful +exhibition of childishness. He might betray his own secrets, but to +betray those of Pepita in order to set himself right with his father, +seemed to him contemptible enough. The baseness and the ridiculous +meanness of the action were still further increased in his eyes by the +reflection that what prompted him to it was the fear of not being strong +enough to resist temptation. + +Don Luis kept silence, therefore, and revealed nothing to his father. + +More than this, he did not even feel that he had the confidence and +composure necessary to present himself before his father, with the +consciousness of this secret interview interposing itself as a barrier +between them. He was indeed so excited and so beside himself, under the +influence of the contending emotions that disputed the possession of his +soul, that he felt as if the room, though a large one, was too small to +contain him. Starting to his feet, he paced with rapid strides up and +down the floor, like some wild animal in his cage, impatient of +confinement. At last, although--being summer--the window was open, he +felt as if he could remain here no longer, lest he should suffocate for +want of air; as if the roof pressed down upon his head; as if, to +breathe, he needed the whole atmosphere; to walk, he required space +without limits; to lift up his brow, and exhale his sighs, and elevate +his thoughts, to have nothing less than the immeasurable vault of heaven +above him. + +Impelled by this necessity, he took his hat and cane and went out into +the street. Thence, avoiding every one he knew, he passed on into the +country, plunging into the leafiest and most sequestered recesses of the +gardens and walks that encompass the village, and make, for a radius of +more than half a league, a paradise of its surroundings. + +We have said but little, thus far, concerning the personal appearance of +Don Luis. Be it known, then, that he was in every sense of the word a +handsome fellow--tall, well formed, with black hair, and eyes also black +and full of fire and sweetness. His complexion was dark, his teeth were +white, his lips delicate and curling slightly, which gave to his +countenance an appearance of disdain; his bearing was manly and bold, +notwithstanding the reserve and meekness proper to his sacred character. +The whole mien of Don Luis bore, in a word, that indescribable stamp of +distinction and nobility that seems to be--though this is not always the +case--the peculiar quality and exclusive privilege of aristocratic +families. + +On beholding Don Luis one could not but confess that Pepita Ximenez was +aesthetic by instinct. + +Don Luis hurried on with precipitate steps in the course he had taken, +jumping across brooks and hardly glancing at surrounding objects, almost +as a bull stung by a hornet might do. The countrymen he met, the +market-gardeners who saw him pass, very possibly took him for a madman. + +Tired at last of walking on aimlessly, he sat down at the foot of a +stone cross near the ruins of an ancient convent of St. Francis de Paul, +almost two miles from the village, and there plunged anew into +meditation, but of so confused a character that he himself was scarcely +conscious of what was passing in his mind. + +The sound of the distant bells, calling the faithful to prayer and +reminding them of the salutation of the angel to the Most Holy Virgin, +reaching these solitudes through the rarefied atmosphere, drew Don Luis +at last from his meditations, and made him once more conscious of the +world of reality. + +The sun had just sunk behind the gigantic peaks of the neighboring +mountains, making their summits--in the shape of pyramids, needles, and +broken obelisks--stand out in bold relief against a background of topaz +and amethyst--for such was the appearance of the heavens, gilded by the +beams of the setting sun. The shadows began to deepen over the plain, +and, on the mountains opposite to those behind which the sun was +sinking, the more elevated peaks shone like flaming gold or crystal. + +The windows and the white walls of the distant sanctuary of the Virgin, +patroness of the village, which is situated on the summit of a distant +hill, as well as those of another small temple or hermitage, situated on +a nearer hill called Calvary, still shone like two beacon-lights, +touched by the oblique rays of the setting sun. + +Nature exhaled a poetic melancholy, and all things seemed to intone a +hymn to the Creator, with that silent music heard only by the spirit. +The low sound of the bells, softened and almost lost in the distance, +hardly disturbed the repose of the earth, and invited to prayer, without +distracting the senses by their noise. Don Luis uncovered his head, +knelt down at the foot of the cross, the pedestal of which had served +him as a seat, and repeated with profound devotion the _Angelus Domini_. + +The shades of evening were gathering fast; but when Night unfolds her +mantle, and spreads it over those favored regions, she delights to adorn +it with the most luminous stars, and with a still brighter moon. The +vault of heaven did not exchange its cerulean hue for the blackness of +night; it still retained it, though it had assumed a deeper shade. The +atmosphere was so clear and pure that myriads of stars could be descried +shining far into the limitless depths of space. The moon silvered the +tops of the trees, and touched with its splendor the waters of the +brooks that gleamed, luminous and transparent, with colors as changeful +and iridescent as the opal. In the leafy groves the nightingales were +singing. Herbs and flowers shed a rich perfume. Countless multitudes of +glow-worms shone like diamonds or carbuncles among the grass and wild +flowers along the banks of the brooks. In this region the winged +glow-worm is not found, but another and smaller species abounds, and +sheds a most brilliant light. Fruit-trees still in blossom, acacias and +roses without number, perfumed the air with their rich fragrance. + +Don Luis felt himself swayed, seduced, vanquished, by this +voluptuousness of nature, and began to doubt himself. It was necessary, +however, to fulfill his promise and keep his appointment. + +Deviating often from the straight path, hesitating at times whether he +should not rather push forward to the source of the river, where, at the +foot of a mountain and in the midst of the most enchanting surroundings, +the crystal torrent that waters the neighboring gardens and orchards +bursts from the living rock, he turned back, with slow and lingering +step, in the direction of the village. + +In proportion as he approached the village, the terror inspired by the +thought of what he was about to do increased. He plunged into the +thickest of the wood, hoping there to behold some wonder, some sign, +some warning, that should draw him back. He thought often of the student +Lisardo, and wished that, like him, he might behold his own burial. But +heaven smiled with her thousand lights, and invited to love; the stars +looked at each other with love; the nightingales sang of love; even the +crickets amorously vibrated their sonorous elytra, as troubadours the +plectrum, in a serenade; all the earth on this tranquil and beautiful +night seemed given up to love. There was no warning; there was no sign; +there was no funeral pomp; all was life, peace, joy. + +Where was now his guardian angel? Had he abandoned Don Luis as already +lost, or, deeming that he ran no risk, did he make no effort to turn him +from his purpose? Who can say? Perhaps from the danger that menaced him +would, in the end, result a triumph. St. Edward and Queen Edith +presented themselves again to the imagination of Don Luis, and +strengthened his resolution. + +Engrossed in these meditations, he delayed his return, and was still +some distance from the village when ten, the hour appointed for his +interview with Pepita, struck from the parish clock. The ten strokes of +the bell were ten blows that, falling on his heart, wounded it as with a +physical pain--a pain in which dread and treacherous disquiet were +blended with a ravishing sweetness. + +Don Luis hastened his steps that he might reach Pepita's house as soon +after the appointed hour as was now possible, and shortly found himself +in the village. + +The village presented a most animated scene. Young girls flocked to wash +their faces at the fountain on the common--those who had sweethearts, +that their sweethearts might remain faithful to them; and those who had +not, that they might obtain sweethearts. Here and there women and +children were returning from the fields, with verbena, branches of +rosemary, and other plants, which they had been gathering, to burn as a +charm. Guitars tinkled on every side, words of love were to be +overheard, and everywhere happy and tender couples were to be seen +walking together. The vigil and the early morning of St. John's day, +although a Christian festival, still retain a certain savor of paganism +and primitive naturalism. This may be because of the approximate +concurrence of this festival and the summer solstice. In any case, the +scene to-night was of a purely mundane character, without any religious +mixture whatever. All was love and gallantry. In our old romances and +legends the Moor always carries off the beautiful Christian princess, +and the Christian knight receives the reward of his devotion to the +Moorish princess, on the eve or in the early morning of St. John's day; +and the traditionary custom of the old romances had been, to all +appearances, preserved in the village. + +The streets were full of people. The whole village was out of doors, in +addition to the strangers from the surrounding country. Progress, thus +rendered extremely difficult, was still further impeded by the multitude +of little tables laden with _nougat_, honey-cakes, and toast, +fruit-stalls, booths for the sale of dolls and toys, and cake-shops, +where gypsies, young and old, by turns fried the dough, tainting the air +with the odor of oil, weighed and served the cakes, responded with +ready wit to the compliments of the gallants who passed by, and told +fortunes. + +Don Luis sought to avoid meeting any of his acquaintances, and, when he +caught sight by chance of any one he knew, he turned his steps in +another direction. Thus, by degrees, he reached the entrance to Pepita's +house without having been stopped or spoken to by any one. His heart now +began to beat with violence, and he paused a moment to recover his +serenity. He looked at his watch; it was almost half-past ten. + +"Good heavens!" he exclaimed; "she has been waiting for me nearly half +an hour." + +He then hurried his pace and entered the hall. The lamp by which it was +always lighted was burning dimly on this particular evening. + +No sooner had Don Luis entered the hall than a hand, or rather a talon, +seized him by the right arm. It belonged to Antonona, who said to him +under her breath: + +"A pretty fellow you are, for a collegian! Ingrate! good-for-nothing! +vagabond! I began to think you were not coming. Where have you been, +imbecile? How dare you delay, as if you had no interest in the matter, +when the salt of the earth is melting for you, and the sum of beauty +awaits you?" + +While Antonona was giving utterance to these complaints, she did not +stand still, but continued to go forward, dragging after her by the arm +the now cowed and silent collegian. They passed the grated door, which +Antonona closed carefully and noiselessly behind them. They crossed the +court-yard, ascended the stairs, passed through some corridors and two +interjacent apartments, and arrived at last at the door of the library, +which was closed. + +Profound silence reigned throughout the house. The library was situated +in its interior, and was thus inaccessible to the noises of the street. +The only sounds that reached it, confused and vague, were the shaking of +the castanets, the tinkle of the guitar, and the murmur of the voices of +Pepita's servants, who were holding their impromptu dance in the +farm-house. + +Antonona opened the door of the library and pushed Don Luis toward it, +at the same time announcing him in these words: + +"Here is Don Luis, who has come to take leave of you." + +This announcement being made with due ceremony, the discreet Antonona +withdrew, leaving the visitor and her mistress at their ease, and +closing behind her the door of the outer saloon. + + * * * * * + +At this point in our narrative we can not refrain from calling attention +to the character of authenticity that stamps the present history, and +paying a tribute of admiration to the scrupulous exactness of the person +who composed it. For, were the incidents related in these _paralipomena_ +fictitious, as in a novel, there is nor the least doubt but that an +interview so important and of such transcendent interest as that of +Pepita and Don Luis would have been brought about by less vulgar means +than those here employed. Perhaps our hero and heroine, in the course of +some new excursion into the country, might have been surprised by a +sudden and frightful tempest, thus finding themselves obliged to take +refuge in the ruins of some ancient castle or Moorish tower, with the +reputation, of course, of being haunted by ghosts or other supernatural +visitants. Perhaps our hero and heroine might have fallen into the power +of a party of bandits, from whom they would have escaped, thanks to the +presence of mind and courage of Don Luis; taking shelter afterward for +the night--they two alone, and without the possibility of avoiding +it--in a cavern or grotto. Or, finally, perhaps the author would have +arranged the matter in such a way as that Pepita and her vacillating +admirer would have been obliged to make a journey by sea, and, although +at the present day there are neither pirates nor Algerine corsairs, it +is not difficult to invent a good shipwreck, during which Don Luis +could have saved Pepita's life, taking refuge with her afterward on a +desert island, or some other equally romantic and solitary place. Any +one of these devices would more artfully prepare the way for the tender +colloquy of the lovers, and would better serve to exculpate Don Luis. We +are of the opinion, nevertheless, that, instead of censuring the author +for not having had recourse to such complications as those we have +mentioned, we ought rather to thank him for his conscientiousness in +sacrificing to the truth of his relation the marvelous effect he might +have produced, had he ventured to ornament and adorn it with incidents +and episodes drawn from his own fancy. + +If the means by which this interview was brought about were, in reality, +only the officiousness and the skill of Antonona, and the weakness with +which Don Luis acceded to her request that he should grant it, why forge +lies, and cause the two lovers to be impelled, as it were, by Fate, to +see and speak with each other alone, to the great danger of the virtue +and honor of both? There was nothing of this. Whether Don Luis did well +or ill in keeping his appointment, and whether Pepita Ximenez, whom +Antonona had already told that Don Luis was coming of his own accord to +see her, did well or ill in rejoicing over that somewhat mysterious and +inopportune visit, let us not throw the blame on Fate, but on the +personages themselves who figure in this history, and on the passions +by which they are actuated. We confess to a great affection for Pepita; +but the truth is before everything, and must be declared, even should it +be to the prejudice of our heroine. + +At eight o'clock, then, Antonona had told her that Don Luis was coming, +and Pepita, who had been talking of dying, whose eyes were red, whose +eyelids were slightly inflamed with weeping, and whose hair was in some +disorder, thought of nothing, thereafter, but of adorning and arranging +herself for the purpose of receiving Don Luis. She bathed her face with +warm water, so that the ravages her tears had made might be effaced to +the exact point of leaving her beauty unimpaired, while still allowing +it to be seen that she had wept. She arranged her hair, so as to +display, rather than a studied care in its arrangement, a certain +graceful and artistic carelessness, that fell short of disorder, +however, which would have been indecorous; she polished her nails, and, +as it was not fit that she should receive Don Luis in a wrapper, she put +on a simple house-dress. In fine, she managed instinctively that all the +details of her toilet should concur in heightening her beauty and grace, +but without allowing any trace to be perceived of the art, the labor, +and the time employed in the details. She would have it appear, on the +contrary, as if all this beauty and grace were the free gift of nature, +something inherent in her person, no matter how she might, owing to the +vehemence of her passions, neglect it on occasion. + +Pepita, so far as we have been able to discover, spent more than an hour +in these labors of the toilet, which were to be perceived only by their +results. She then, with ill-concealed satisfaction, gave herself the +final touch before the looking-glass. At last, at about half-past nine, +taking a candle in her hand, she descended to the apartment, in which +was the _Infant Jesus_. She first lighted the altar-candles which had +been extinguished; she saw with something of sorrow that the flowers +were drooping; she asked pardon of the sacred Image for neglecting it so +long, and, throwing herself on her knees before it, prayed in her +solitude with her whole heart, and with that frankness and confidence +that a guest inspires who has been so long an inmate of the house. Of a +_Jesus of Nazareth_ bearing the cross upon his shoulders, and crowned +with thorns; of an _Ecce Homo_, insulted and scourged, with a reed for +derisive scepter, and his hands bound with a rough cord; of a _Christ +crucified_, bleeding and moribund, Pepita would not have dared to ask +what she now asked of a Saviour, still a child, smiling, beautiful, +untouched by suffering, and pleasing to the eye. Pepita asked him to +leave her Don Luis; not to take him away from her, since he, who was so +rich and so well provided with everything, might, without any great +sacrifice, deny himself this one of his servants, and give him up to +her. + +Having completed these preparations, which we may classify as cosmetic, +indumentary, and religious, Pepita installed herself in the library, and +there awaited the arrival of Don Luis with feverish impatience. + +Antonona had acted with prudence in not telling her mistress that Don +Luis was coming to see her until a short time before the appointed hour. +Even as it was, thanks to the delay of the gallant, poor Pepita, from +the moment in which she had finished her prayers and supplications to +the _Infant Jesus_, to that in which she beheld Don Luis standing in the +library, was a prey to anguish and disquietude. + +The visit began in the most grave and ceremonious manner. The customary +salutations were mechanically interchanged, and Don Luis, at the +invitation of Pepita, seated himself in an easy-chair, without laying +aside his hat or cane, and at a short distance from her. Pepita was +seated on the sofa; beside her was a little table on which were some +books, and a candle, the light from which illuminated her countenance. +On the desk also burned a lamp. Notwithstanding these two lights, +however, the apartment, which was large, remained for the greater part +in obscurity. A large window, which looked out on an inner garden, was +open on account of the heat; and although the grating of the window was +covered with climbing roses and jasmine, the clear beams of the moon +penetrated through the interlaced leaves and flowers, and struggled with +the light of the lamp and candle. Through the open window came, too, the +distant and confused sounds of the dance at the farm-house, which was at +the other extremity of the garden, the monotonous murmur of the fountain +below, and the fragrance of the jasmine and roses that curtained the +window, mingled with that of the mignonette, sweet-basil, and other +plants that adorned the borders beneath. + +There was a long pause--a silence as difficult to maintain as it was to +break. Neither of the two interlocutors ventured to speak. The situation +was, in truth, embarrassing. They found it as difficult to express +themselves then, as we find it now to reproduce their words; but there +is nothing else for it than to make the effort. Let us allow them to +speak for themselves, transcribing their words with exactitude. + + * * * * * + +"So you have finally condescended to come and take leave of me before +your departure," said Pepita; "I had already given up the hope that you +would do so." + +The part Don Luis had to perform was a serious one; and, besides this, +in this kind of dialogue, the man, not only if he be a novice, but even +when he is old in the business and an expert, is apt to begin with some +piece of folly. Let us not condemn Don Luis, therefore, because he also +began unwisely. + +"Your complaint is unjust," he said. "I came here with my father to take +leave of you, and, as we had not the pleasure of being received by you, +we left cards. We were told that your health was somewhat delicate, and +we have sent every day since to inquire for you. We were greatly pleased +to learn that you were improving. I hope you are now much better." + +"I am almost tempted to say I am no better," answered Pepita, "but, as I +see that you have come as the embassador of your father, and I do not +want to distress so excellent a friend, it is but right that I should +tell you, that you may repeat it to him, that I am much better now. But +it is strange that you have come alone. Don Pedro must be very much +occupied indeed, not to accompany you." + +"My father did not accompany me, madam, because he does not know that I +have come to see you. I have chosen to come without him because my +farewell must be a serious, a solemn, perhaps a final one, and his will +naturally be of a very different character. My father will return to +the village in a few weeks; it is possible that I may never return to +it, and, if I do, it will be in a very different character from my +present one." + +Pepita could not restrain herself. The happy future of which she had +dreamed vanished, at the words of Don Luis, into air. Her unalterable +resolution to vanquish, at whatever cost, this man, the only one she had +loved in her life, the only one she felt herself capable of loving, +seemed to have been made in vain. She felt herself condemned at twenty +years of age, with all her beauty, to perpetual widowhood, to solitude, +to an unrequited love--for any other love was impossible for her. The +character of Pepita, in whom obstacles only strengthened and kindled +afresh her desires, with whom a determination, once taken, carried +everything before it until it was fulfilled, showed itself now in all +its violence and without restraint. She must conquer, or die in the +attempt. Social considerations, the fixed habit of guarding and +concealing the feelings, acquired in the great world, which serve as a +restraint to the paroxysms of passion, and which veil in ambiguous +phrases, and dilute in circumlocutions, the most violent explosion of +undisciplined emotion, had no power with Pepita. She had had but little +intercourse with the world, she knew no middle way; her only rule of +conduct hitherto had been to obey blindly her mother and her husband +while they lived, and afterward to command despotically every other +human being. Thus it was that Pepita spoke her own thoughts on this +occasion, and showed herself such as she really was. Her soul, with all +the passion it contained, took sensible form in her words; and her +words, instead of serving to conceal her thoughts and her feelings, gave +them substance. She did not speak as a lady of our _salons_ would have +spoken, with circumlocutions and attenuations of expression, but with +that idyllic frankness with which Chloe spoke to Daphnis, and with the +humility and the complete self-abandonment with which the +daughter-in-law of Naomi offered herself to Boaz. + +"Do you then persist in your purpose?" she asked. "Are you sure of your +vocation? Are you not afraid of being a bad priest? Don Luis, I am going +to make a supreme effort. I am going to forget that I am an uncultured +girl; I am going to dispense with all sentiment, and to reason as coldly +as if it were concerning the matter most indifferent to me. Things have +taken place that may be explained in two ways; both explanations do you +discredit. I will show you what my thoughts are. If the woman who, with +her coquetries--not very daring ones, in truth--almost without a word, +and but a few days after seeing and speaking to you for the first time, +has been able to provoke you, to move you to look at her with glances +that betokened a profane love, and has even obtained from you a proof of +that love that would be a fault, a sin, in any one, but is so especially +in a priest--if this woman be, as she indeed is, a simple country-girl, +without education, without talent, and without elegance, what is not to +be feared of you when in great cities you see and converse with other +women a thousand times more dangerous? Your head will be turned when you +are thrown into the society of the great ladies who dwell in palaces, +who tread on soft carpets, who dazzle the eye with their diamonds and +pearls, who are clad in silks and laces instead of muslin and percale, +who leave bare the white and well-formed throat instead of covering it +with a plebeian and modest handkerchief, who are adepts in all the arts +of coquetry, and who, by reason of the very ostentation, luxury, and +pomp that surround them, are all the more desirable for being apparently +more inaccessible; who discuss politics, philosophy, religion, and +literature; who sing like canaries, who are enveloped, as it were, in +clouds of incense, adoration and homage, set upon a pedestal of triumphs +and of victories, glorified by the prestige of an illustrious name, +enthroned in gilded saloons, or secluded in voluptuous boudoirs, where +enter only the blest ones of the earth, its titled ones, perhaps, who +only to their most intimate friends are "Pepita," "Antonita," or +"Angelita," and to the rest of the world, "Her Grace the Duchess," or +"the Marchioness." If you have yielded to the arts of an uncultured +peasant when you were on the eve of being ordained, and in spite of all +the enthusiasm for your calling that you may naturally be supposed to +entertain--if you have thus yielded, urged by a passing impulse, am I +not right in foreseeing that you will make an abominable priest, impure, +worldly, and of evil influence, and that you will yield to temptation at +every step? On such a supposition as this, believe me, Don Luis--and do +not be offended with me for saying so--you are not even worthy to be the +husband of an honest woman. If, with all the ardor and tenderness of the +most passionate lover, you have pressed the hand of a woman, if you have +looked at one, with glances that foretold a heaven, an eternity of love, +if you have kissed a woman that inspired you with no other feeling than +one that for me has no name, then go, in God's name, and do not marry +her! If she is virtuous, she will not desire you for a husband, nor even +for a lover; but, for God's sake, do not become a priest either! The +Church needs men more serious, more capable of resisting temptation, as +ministers of the Most High. + +"If, on the other hand, you have felt a noble passion for the woman of +whom we are speaking, although she be of little worth, why abandon and +deceive her with so much cruelty? However unworthy she may be, if she +has inspired this great passion, do you not suppose that she will share +it, and be the victim of it? For, when a love is great, elevated, and +passionate, does it ever fail to make its power felt? Does it not +tyrannize over and subjugate the beloved object irresistibly? By the +extent of your love for her you may measure that of her you love. And +how can you avoid fearing for her, if you abandon her? Has she the +masculine energy, the firmness of character produced by the wisdom +learned from books, the attraction of fame, the multitude of splendid +projects, and all the resources of your cultured and exalted intellect, +to distract her mind, and turn her away, without destructive violence, +from every other earthly affection? Can you not see that she will die of +grief, and that you, called by your destiny to offer up bloodless +sacrifices, will begin by pitilessly sacrificing her who most loves +you?" + +"I too, madam," returned Don Luis, endeavoring to conquer his emotion, +and to speak with firmness--"I too, madam, am obliged to make a great +effort in order to answer you with the calmness necessary to one who +opposes argument to argument, as in a controversy; but your accusation +is supported by so many reasons, and you have invested those +reasons--pardon me for saying so--with so specious an appearance of +truth, that I have no choice left me but to disprove them by other +reasons. I had no thought of being placed in the necessity of +maintaining a discussion here, and of sharpening my poor wits for that +purpose; but you compel me to do so, unless I wish to pass for a +monster. I am going to reply to the two extremes of the cruel dilemma in +which you have placed me. Though it is true that my youth was passed in +my uncle's house and in the seminary, where I saw nothing of women, do +not therefore think me so ignorant, or possessed of so little +imagination, that I can not picture to myself how lovely, how seductive +they may be. My imagination, on the contrary, went far beyond the +reality. Excited by the reading of the sacred writers and of profane +poets, it pictured women more charming, more graceful, more intelligent, +than they are commonly to be found in real life. I knew then, and I even +exaggerated to myself, the cost of the sacrifice I was making, when I +renounced the love of those women for the purpose of elevating myself to +the dignity of the priesthood. I know well how much the charms of a +beautiful woman are enhanced by rich attire, by splendid jewels, by +being surrounded with all the arts of refined civilization, all the +objects of luxury produced by the indefatigable labor and the skill of +man. I knew well, too, how much the natural cleverness of a woman is +increased, how much her natural intelligence is sharpened, quickened, +and brightened by intercourse with scientific men, by the reading of +good books, even by the familiar spectacle of the wealth and splendor of +great cities, and of the monuments of the past that they contain. All +this I pictured to myself with so much vividness, my fancy painted it in +such glowing colors, that you need have no doubt that, should I be +thrown into the society of those women of whom you speak, far from +feeling the adoration and the transports you prophesy, I shall rather +experience a disenchantment on seeing how great a distance there is +between what I dreamed of and the truth, between the living reality and +the picture of it that my fancy drew." + +"This is indeed specious reasoning," exclaimed Pepita. "How can I deny +that what you have pictured in your imagination is, in truth, more +beautiful than what exists in reality? but who will deny, either, that +the real possesses a more seductive charm than that which exists only in +the imagination? The vagueness and etherealness of a phantasm, however +beautiful it may be, can not compete with what is palpable and visible +to the senses. I can understand that holy images might exercise a more +powerful influence over your spirit than the pictures of mundane beauty +created by your fancy, but I fear that those holy images will not prove +equally powerful where mundane realities are concerned." + +"Have no such fear, madam," returned Don Luis. "My fancy possesses, by +its own creations, more power over my spirit than does the whole +universe--only excepting yourself--by what it transmits to it through +the senses." + +"And why except me? Such an exception gives room to the suspicion that +the idea you have of me, the idea which you love, may be but the +creation of this potent fancy of yours, and an illusion that resembles +me in nothing." + +"No, this is not the case. You may be assured that this idea resembles +you in everything. It may be that it is innate in my soul, that it has +existed in it since it was created by God, that it is a part of its +essence, the best and purest part of its being, as the perfume is of the +flower." + +"This is what I had feared, and now you confess it to me. You do not +love me. What you love is the essence, the fragrance, the purest part of +your own soul, that has assumed a form resembling mine." + +"No, Pepita; do not seek to amuse yourself in tormenting me. What I love +is you--and you such as you really are; but what I love is also so +beautiful, so pure, so delicate that I can not understand how it should +have reached my mind, in a material manner, through the senses. I take +it for granted, then, and it is my firm belief, that it must have had an +innate existence there. It is like the idea of God that is inborn in my +soul, that has unfolded and developed itself within my soul, and that +has, nevertheless, its counterpart in reality, superior, infinitely +superior to the idea. As I believe that God exists, so do I believe that +you exist, and that you are a thousand times superior to the idea that I +have formed of you." + +"Still, I have a doubt left. May it not be woman in general, and not I, +solely and exclusively, that has awakened this idea?" + +"No, Pepita; before I saw you, I had felt in imagination what might be +the magic power, the fascination of a woman, beautiful of soul and +graceful in person. There is no duchess or marchioness in Madrid, no +empress in all the world, no queen or princess on the face of the globe, +to be compared to the ideals and fantastic creations with whom I have +lived. These were inhabitants of the castles and boudoirs, marvels of +luxury and taste, that I pleased myself in boyhood by erecting in my +fancy, and that I afterward gave as dwelling-places to my Lauras, +Beatrices, Juliets, Marguerites, and Leonoras; to my Cynthias, Glyceras, +and Lesbias. Them I crowned in my imagination with coronets and Oriental +diadems; I clothed them in mantles of purple and gold, and surrounded +them with regal pomp like Esther and Vashti; I endowed them, like +Rebekah and the Shulamite, with the bucolic simplicity of the +patriarchal age; I bestowed on them the sweet humility and the devotion +of Ruth; I listened to them discoursing like Aspasia, or Hypatia, +mistresses of eloquence; I enthroned them in luxurious drawing-rooms, +and cast over them the splendor of noble blood and illustrious lineage, +as if they had been the proudest and noblest of patrician maidens of +ancient Rome; I beheld them graceful, coquettish, gay, full of +aristocratic ease and manner, like the ladies of the time of Louis XIV, +in Versailles; and I adorned them, now with the modest _stola_, that +inspired veneration and respect; now with diaphanous tunics and +_peplums_, through whose airy folds were revealed all the plastic +perfections of their graceful forms; now with the transparent _coa_, of +the beautiful courtesans of Athens and Corinth, showing the white and +roseate hues of the finely molded forms that glowed beneath their +vaporous covering. But what are the joys of the senses, what the glory +and magnificence of the world, to a soul that burns with and consumes +itself in Divine love, as I believed mine, perhaps with too much +arrogance, to burn and consume itself? As volcanic fires, when they +burst into flame, send flying into air, shattered in a thousand +fragments, the solid rocks, the mountain-side itself, that obstruct +their passage, so, or with even greater force, did my spirit cast from +itself the whole weight of the universe and of created beauty that lay +upon it and imprisoned it, preventing it from soaring up to God, as the +center of its aspirations. No; I have rejected no delight, no sweetness, +no glory, through ignorance. I knew them all, and valued them all at +more than their worth, when I rejected them all for a greater delight, a +greater sweetness, a greater glory. The profane love of woman presented +itself to my fancy, clothed, not only with all its own charms, but with +the sovereign and almost irresistible charms of the most dangerous of +all temptations--of that which the moralists call virginal +temptation--when the mind, not yet undeceived by experience and by sin, +pictures to itself in the transports of love a supreme and ineffable +delight immeasurably superior to all reality. Ever since I reached +manhood--that is to say, for many years past, for my youth was short--I +have scorned those delights and that beauty that were but the shadow and +the reflex of the archetypal beauty of which I was enamored, of the +supreme delight for which I longed. I have sought to die to myself, in +order to live in the beloved object, to free, not only my senses, but +even my soul itself, from every earthly affection, from illusions and +imaginings, in order to be able to say with truth that it is not I who +live, but Christ who lives in me. It may be, nay, it must be, that in +this I sinned through arrogance and self-confidence, and that God has +therefore wished to chastise me; and you came across my path, and +tempted me, and led me astray. Now you upbraid me, you deride me, you +accuse me of levity and of yielding easily to temptation; but in +upbraiding me and deriding me you insult yourself, for you thus imply +that any other woman might have had equal power over me. I do not wish, +when I ought to be humble, to fall into the sin of pride, by trying to +justify my fault. If God, in chastisement of my pride, has let me fall +from his grace, it is possible that any temptation, however slight, +might have made me waver and fall. Yet I confess that I do not think so. +It may be that I err in my judgment that this is but the consequence of +my undisciplined pride, but, I repeat, I do not think so. I can not +succeed in persuading myself that the cause of my fall had in it +anything either mean or base. Above all the dreams of my youthful +imagination, the reality, such as I beheld it in you, enthroned itself. +Above all the nymphs, queens, and goddesses of my fancy, you towered. +Above the ruins of my ideal creations, overthrown and shattered by +Divine love, there arose in my soul the faithful image, the exact +reproduction of the living beauty that adorns, that is the essence of +that body and of that soul. There may be even something mysterious, +something supernatural in this; for I loved you from the moment I first +saw you--almost before I saw you. Long before I was conscious of loving +you, I loved you. It would seem as if there were some fatality in +this--that it was decreed, that it was a predestination." + +"And if it were predestined, if it be decreed," said Pepita, "why not +submit to Fate, why still resist? Sacrifice your purpose to our love. +Have not I sacrificed much? Am I not now sacrificing my pride, my +decorum, my reserve, in supplicating you thus, in making this effort to +overcome your scorn? I too believe that I loved you before I saw you. +Now I love you with my whole heart, and without you there is no +happiness for me. It is true indeed that in my humble intelligence you +can find no rival so powerful as that which I have in yours. Neither +with the understanding, nor the will, nor the affections, can I raise +myself all at once up to God. Neither by nature nor by grace do I mount +or desire to mount up to such exalted spheres. My soul, nevertheless, is +full of religious devotion, and I know and love and adore God; but I +only behold his omnipotence and admire his goodness in the works that +have proceeded from his hands. Nor can I, with the imagination, weave +those visions that you tell me of. Yet I too dreamed of some one nobler, +more intelligent, more poetic, and more enamored, than the men who have +thus far sought my hand; of a lover more distinguished and accomplished +than any of my adorers of this and the neighboring villages, who should +love me, and whom I should love, and to whose will I should blindly +surrender mine. This some one was you. I had a presentiment of it when +they told me that you had arrived at the village. When I saw you for the +first time, I knew it. But, as my imagination is so sterile, the picture +I had formed of you in my mind was not to be compared, even in the most +remote degree, to the reality. I too have read something of romances and +poetry. But from all that my memory retained of them, I was unable to +form a picture that was not far inferior in merit to what I see and +divine in you since I have known you. Thus it is that from the moment I +saw you I was vanquished and undone. If love is, as you say, to die to +self, in order to live in the beloved object, then is my love genuine +and legitimate, for I have died to myself, and live only in you and for +you. I have tried to cast this love away from me, deeming it +ill-requited, and I have not been able to succeed in doing so. I have +prayed to God with fervor to take away from me this love, or else to +kill me, and God has not deigned to hear me. I have prayed to the +Virgin Mary to blot your image from my soul, and my prayer has been in +vain. I have made vows to my patron saint to the end that he would +enable me to think of you only as he thought of his blessed spouse, and +my patron saint has not succored me. Seeing all this, I have had the +audacity to ask of Heaven that you would allow yourself to be +vanquished, that you would cease to desire to be a priest, that there +might spring up in your soul a love as profound as that which is in my +heart. Don Luis, tell me frankly, has Heaven been deaf to this last +prayer also? Or is it, perchance, that to subjugate a soul as weak, as +wretched, and as petty as mine, a petty love is sufficient, while to +master yours, protected and guarded as it is by vigorous and lofty +thoughts, a more powerful love than mine is necessary, a love that I am +neither worthy of inspiring, nor capable of sharing, nor even able to +understand?" + +"Pepita," returned Don Luis, "it is not that your soul is less than +mine, but that it is free from obligations, and mine is not. The love +you have inspired me with is profound, but my obligations, my vows, the +purpose of my whole life so near to its realization, contend against it. +Why should I not say it without fearing to offend you? If you succeed in +making me love you, you do not humiliate yourself. If I succumb to your +love, I humiliate and abase myself. I leave the Creator for the +creature. I renounce the unwavering purpose of my life, I break the +image of Christ that was in my soul; and the new man, that I had created +in myself at such cost, disappears, that the old man may come to life +again. Instead of my lowering myself to the earth, to the impurity of +the world that I have hitherto despised, why do not you rather elevate +yourself to me by virtue of that very love you entertain for me, freeing +it from every earthly alloy? Why should we not love each other then +without shame, and without sin, and without dishonor? God penetrates +holy souls with the pure and refulgent fire of his love, and fills them +with it, so that, like a metal fresh from the forge, that, without +ceasing to be a metal, shines and glitters and is all fire, these souls +fill themselves with joy, and are in all things God, penetrated by God +in every part, through the grace of the Divine love. These souls then +love and enjoy each other, as if they loved and enjoyed God, loving and +enjoying him in truth, because they are God. Let us mount together in +spirit this steep and mystical ladder. Let our souls ascend, side by +side, to this bliss, which even in this mortal life is possible; but to +do this we must separate in the body; it is essential that I should go +whither I am called by my duty, my vow, and the voice of the Most High, +who disposes of his servant, and has destined him to the service of his +altar." + +"Ah, Don Luis," replied Pepita, full of sorrow and contrition, "now +indeed I see how vile is the metal I am made of, and how unworthy I am +that the Divine fire should penetrate and transform me. I will confess +everything, casting away even shame: I am a vile sinner; my rude and +uncultured understanding can not grasp these subtleties, these +distinctions, these refinements of love. My rebellious will refuses what +you propose. I can not even conceive of you but as yourself. For me you +are your mouth, your eyes, your dark locks that I desire to caress with +my hands, your sweet voice, the pleasing sound of your words that fall +upon my ears, and charm them through the senses; your whole bodily form, +in a word that charms and seduces me, and through which, and only +through which, I perceive the invisible spirit, vague and full of +mystery. My soul, stubborn, and incapable of these mysterious raptures, +will never be able to follow you to those regions whither you would take +it. If you soar up to them, I shall remain alone, abandoned, plunged in +the deepest affliction. I prefer to die; I deserve death; I desire it. +It may be that after death my soul, loosening or breaking the vile bonds +that chain it here, will be able to understand the love with which you +desire we should be united. Kill me, then, in order that we may thus +love each other; kill me, and then my spirit, set free, will follow you +whithersoever you may go, and will journey invisible by your side, +watching over your steps, contemplating you with ravishment, penetrating +your most secret thoughts, beholding your soul as it is, without the +intervention of the senses. But in this life it can not be. I love in +you, not only the soul, but the body, and the shadow cast by the body, +and the reflection of the body in the mirror and in the water, and the +Christian name, and the surname, and the blood, and all that goes to +make you such as you are, Don Luis de Vargas; the sound of your voice, +your gesture, your gait, and I know not what else besides. I repeat that +you must kill me. Kill me without compassion. No, I am not a Christian; +I am a material idolater." + +Here Pepita made a long pause. Don Luis knew not what to say, and was +silent. Tears bathed the cheeks of Pepita, who continued, sobbing: + +"I know it; you despise me, and you are right to despise me. With this +just contempt you will kill me more surely than with a dagger, and +without staining either your hands or your conscience with blood. +Farewell! I am about to free you from my odious presence. Farewell +forever!" + +Having said this, Pepita rose from her seat, and, without looking at Don +Luis, her face bathed with tears, beside herself, rushed toward the door +that led to the inner apartment. An unconquerable tenderness, a fatal +pity, took possession of Don Luis. He feared Pepita would die. He +started forward to detain her, but it was too late. Pepita had crossed +the threshold. Her form disappeared in the obscurity within. Don Luis, +impelled by a superhuman power, drawn as by an invisible hand, followed +her into the darkened chamber. + + * * * * * + +The library remained deserted. + +The servants' dance must have already terminated, for the only sound to +be heard was the murmur of the fountain in the garden below. + +Not even a breath of wind troubled the stillness of the night and the +serenity of the air. + +The perfume of the flowers and the light of the moon entered softly +through the open window. After a long interval, Don Luis made his +appearance, emerging from the darkness. Terror was depicted on his +countenance, mingled with despair--such despair as Judas may have felt +after he had betrayed his master. + +He dropped into a chair and, burying his face in his hands, with his +elbows resting on his knees, he remained for more than half an hour +plunged in a sea of bitter reflections. + +To see him thus, one might have supposed that he had just assassinated +Pepita. + +Pepita, nevertheless, at last made her appearance. With slow step, with +an air of the deepest melancholy, with bent head, and glance directed to +the floor, she approached Don Luis and spoke. + +"Now, indeed," said she, "though, alas! too late, I know all the +vileness of my heart and the iniquity of my conduct. I have nothing to +say in my own defense, but I would not have you think me more perverse +than I am. You must not think I have used any arts--that I have laid any +plans for your destruction. Yes; it is true that I have been guilty of +an atrocious crime, but an unpremeditated one; a crime inspired, +perhaps, by the spirit of evil that possesses me. Do not abandon +yourself to despair, do not torture yourself, for God's sake! You are +responsible for nothing. It was a frenzy, a madness that took possession +of your noble spirit. Your sin is a light one; mine is flagrant, +shameful, horrible. Now I am less worthy of you than ever. It is I who +ask you now to leave this place. Go; do penance. God will pardon you. +Go; a priest will give you absolution. Once cleansed from sin, carry out +your purpose, and become a minister of the Most High. Then, through the +holiness of your life, through your ceaseless labors, not only will you +efface from your soul the last traces of this fall, but you will obtain +for me, when you have pardoned me the evil I have done you, the pardon +of Heaven also. You are bound to me by no tie, and even if you were I +should loosen or break it. You are free. Let it suffice me that I have +taken captive by surprise the star of the morning. It is not my +desire--I neither can nor ought to seek to keep him in my power. I +divine it, I read it in your gesture, I am convinced of it--you despise +me more than before; and you are right in despising me. There is neither +honor, nor virtue, nor shame in me." + +When she had thus spoken, Pepita, throwing herself on her knees, bowed +her face till her forehead touched the floor. Don Luis continued in the +same attitude as before. Thus, for some moments, they remained both +silent with the silence of despair. + +In a stifled voice, and without raising her face from the floor, Pepita +after a time continued: + +"Go now, Don Luis, and do not, through an insulting pity, remain any +longer at the side of so despicable a wretch as I. I shall have courage +to bear your indifference, your forgetfulness, your contempt, for I have +deserved them all. I shall always be your slave--but far from you, very +far from you, in order that nothing may recall to your memory the +infamy of this night." + +Pepita's voice, as she ended, was choked with sobs. + +Don Luis could restrain himself no longer. He arose, approached Pepita, +and, raising her in his arms from the floor, pressed her to his heart; +then, putting aside from her face the blond tresses that fell in +disorder over it, he covered it with passionate kisses. + +"Soul of my soul," he said at last, "life of my life, treasure of my +heart, light of my eyes, raise up your dejected brow, and do not +prostrate yourself any longer before me. The sinner, the vile wretch, he +who has shown himself weak of purpose, who has made himself the butt of +scorn and ridicule, is I, not you. Angels and devils alike must laugh at +me and mock me. I have clothed myself with a false sanctity. I was not +able to resist temptation, and to undeceive you in the beginning, as +would have been just, and now I am equally unable to show myself a +gentleman, a man of honor, or a tender lover who knows how to value the +favors of his mistress. I can not understand what it was you saw in me +to attract you. There never was in me any solid virtue--nothing but vain +show and the pedantry of a student who has read pious books as one reads +a novel, and on this foundation has based his foolish romance of a +future devoted to converting the heathen, and to pious meditations. If +there had been in me any solid virtue, I should have undeceived you in +time, and neither you nor I would have sinned. True virtue is not so +easily vanquished. Notwithstanding your beauty, notwithstanding your +intelligence, notwithstanding your love for me, I should not have fallen +if I had been in reality virtuous, if I had had a true vocation. God, to +whom all things are possible, would have bestowed his grace upon me. It +would have needed nothing less than a miracle, or some other +supernatural event, to have enabled me to resist your love, but God +would have wrought the miracle, and I should have been worthy of it, and +a motive sufficient for its being wrought. You are wrong to counsel me +to become a priest. I know my own unworthiness. It was only pride that +actuated me in my desire to be one. It was a worldly ambition, like any +other. What do I say--like any other? It was worse than any other; it +was a hypocritical, a sacrilegious, a simoniacal ambition." + +"Do not judge yourself so harshly," said Pepita, now more tranquil, and +smiling through her tears. "I do not want you to judge yourself thus, +not even for the purpose of making me appear less unworthy to be your +companion. No; I would have you choose me through love--freely; not to +repair a fault, not because you have fallen into the snares you perhaps +think I have perfidiously spread for you. If you do not love me, if you +distrust me, if you do not esteem me, then go. My lips shall not breathe +a single complaint, if you should abandon me forever, and never think of +me again." + +To answer this fittingly, our poor and beggarly human speech was +insufficient for Don Luis. He cut short Pepita's words by pressing his +lips to hers, and again clasping her to his heart. + + * * * * * + +Some time afterward, with much previous coughing and shuffling of the +feet, Antonona entered the library with the words: + +"What a long talk you must have had! The sermon our student has been +preaching this time can not have been that of the _seven words_--it came +very near being that of the _forty hours_. It is time you should go now, +Don Luis; it is almost two o'clock in the morning." + +"Very well," answered Pepita, "he will go directly." + +Antonona left the library again, and waited outside. + +Pepita was like one transformed. One might suppose that the joys she had +missed in her childhood, the happiness and contentment she had failed to +taste in her early youth, the gay activity and sprightliness that a +harsh mother and an old husband had repressed, and, as it were, crushed +within her, had suddenly burst into life in her soul, like the green +leaves of the trees, whose germination has been retarded by the snows +and frosts of a long and severe winter. + +A city-bred lady, familiar with what we call social conventionalities, +may find something strange, and even worthy of censure, in what I am +about to relate of Pepita. But Pepita, although refined by instinct, was +a being in whom every feeling was spontaneous, and in whose nature there +was no room for the affected sedateness and circumspection that are +customary in the great world. Thus it was that, seeing the obstacles +removed that had stood in the way of her happiness, and Don Luis +conquered, holding his voluntary promise that he would make her his +wife, and believing herself, with justice, to be loved, nay, worshiped +by him whom she too loved and worshiped, she danced and laughed, and +gave way to other manifestations of joy that had in them, after all, +something childlike and innocent. + +But it was necessary that Don Luis should now depart. Pepita took a comb +and smoothed his hair lovingly, and kissed him. She then rearranged his +neck-tie. + +"Farewell, lord of my life," she said, "dear sovereign of my soul. I +will tell your father everything if you fear to do. He is good, and he +will forgive us." + +At last the lovers separated. + +When Pepita found herself alone, her restless gayety disappeared, and +her countenance assumed a grave and thoughtful expression. + +Two thoughts now presented themselves to her mind, both equally serious; +the one possessing a merely mundane interest, the other an interest of a +higher nature. The first thought was that her conduct to-night--the +delirium of passion once past--might prejudice her in the opinion of Don +Luis; but, finding, after a severe examination of her conscience, that +neither premeditation nor artifice had had any part in her actions, +which were the offspring of an irresistible love, and of impulses noble +in themselves, she came to the conclusion that Don Luis could not +despise her for it, and she therefore made her mind easy on that point. +Nevertheless, although her frank confession that she was unable to +comprehend a love that was purely spiritual, and her taking refuge +afterward in the obscurity of her chamber--without foreseeing +consequences--were both the result of an impulse innocent enough in +itself, Pepita did not seek to deny in her own mind that she had sinned +against God, and on this point she could find for herself no excuse. + +She commended herself with all her heart, therefore, to the Virgin, +entreating her forgiveness. She vowed to the image of Our Lady of +Solitude, in the convent of the nuns, seven beautiful golden swords of +the finest and most elaborate workmanship, to adorn her breast, and +determined to go to confess herself on the following day to the vicar, +and to submit herself to the harshest penance he should choose to impose +upon her, in order to merit the absolution of those sins by means of +which she had vanquished the obstinacy of Don Luis, who, but for them, +would without a doubt have become a priest. + +While Pepita was engaged in these reflections, and while she was +arranging with so much discretion the affairs of her soul, Don Luis had +descended to the hall below, accompanied by Antonona. + +Before taking his leave, Don Luis, without preface or circumlocution, +spoke thus: + +"Antonona, tell me, you who are acquainted with everything, who is the +Count of Genazahar, and what has he had to do with your mistress? + +"You begin to be jealous very soon." + +"It is not jealousy that makes me ask this, it is simply curiosity." + +"So much the better. There is nothing more tiresome than jealousy. Well, +I will try to satisfy your curiosity. This same count has given room +enough for talk. He is a dissipated fellow, a gambler, and a man of no +principle whatever, but he has more vanity than Don Roderick on the +gallows. He made up his mind that my mistress should fall in love with +him and marry him, and, as she has refused him a thousand times, he is +mad enough to be tied. This does not prevent him, however, from keeping +in his money-chest more than a thousand dollars that Don Gumersindo lent +him years ago, without any more security than a bit of paper, through +the fault and at the entreaty of Pepita, who is better than bread. The +fool of a count thought, no doubt, that Pepita, who was so good to him +as a wife that she persuaded her husband to lend him money, would be so +much better to him as a widow that she would consent to marry him. He +was soon undeceived, however, and then he became furious." + +"Good-by, Antonona," said Don Luis, as, now grave and thoughtful, he +left the house. + +The lights of the shops and of the booths in the fair were now +extinguished, and everybody was going home to bed, with the exception of +the owners of the toy-shops, and other poor hucksters, who slept beside +their wares in the open air. + +In some of the grated windows were still to be seen lovers, wrapped in +their cloaks, and chatting with their sweethearts. Almost every one else +had disappeared. + +Don Luis, once out of sight of Antonona, gave a loose rein to his +thoughts. His resolution was taken, and all his reflections tended to +confirm this resolution. The sincerity and ardor of the passion with +which he had inspired Pepita; her beauty; the youthful grace of her +person, and the fresh exuberance of her soul, presented themselves to +his imagination, and rendered him happy. + +Notwithstanding this, however, he could not but reflect with mortified +vanity on the change that had been wrought in himself. What would the +dean think? How great would be the horror the bishop! And, above all, +how serious were the grounds for complaint he had given his father! The +displeasure of the latter, his anger when he should know of the bond +that bound his son to Pepita, caused him infinite disquietude. + +As for what--before he fell--he had called his fall it must be confessed +that, after he had fallen, it did not seem to him either so very serious +or so very reprehensible. His spiritual-mindedness, viewed in the light +that had just dawned upon him, he fancied to have had neither reality +nor consistency; to have been but the vain and artificial product of his +reading, of his boyish arrogance, of his aimless tenderness in the +innocent days of his college life. When he remembered that he had at +times thought himself the recipient of supernatural gifts and graces, +that he heard mystic whisperings, that his spirit held communion with +superior beings; when he remembered that he had fancied himself almost +beginning to tread the path that leads to spiritual unity, through +contemplation of the Divine, penetrating into the recesses of the soul, +and mounting up to the region of pure intelligence, he smiled to +himself, and began to suspect that during the period in question he had +not been altogether in his right mind. It had all been simply the result +of his own arrogance. He had neither done penance, nor passed long years +in meditation; he did not possess, nor had he ever possessed, sufficient +merits for God to favor him with privileges like these. The greatest +proof he could give himself of the truth of this, the greatest certainty +he could possess that the supernatural favors he had enjoyed were +spurious; mere recollections of the authors he had read, was that not +one of them had ever given him the rapture of Pepita's "I love you," or +of the soft touch of her hand caressing his dark locks. + +Don Luis had recourse to another species of Christian humility to +justify in his eyes what he now no longer called his fall, but his +change of purpose. He confessed himself unworthy to be a priest; he +reconciled himself to being a commonplace married man, a good sort of +country gentleman, like any other, taking care of his vines and olives, +and bringing up his children--for he now desired to have children--and +to being a model husband at the side of his Pepita. + + * * * * * + +Here I think myself again in the necessity--responsible as I am for the +publication and divulgation of this history--of interpolating various +reflections and explanations of my own. + +I said at the beginning of the story that I was inclined to think that +the narrative part, or _paralipomena_, was composed by the reverend dean +for the purpose of completing the story, and supplying incidents not +related in the letters; but I had not at that time read the manuscript +with attention. Now, on observing the freedom with which certain matters +are treated, and the indulgence with which certain frailties are +regarded by the author, I am compelled to ask whether the reverend dean, +with the severity of whose morals I am well acquainted, would have spent +his time in writing what we have just read. + +There are not sufficient grounds, however, for denying positively that +the reverend dean was the author of these _paralipomena_. The question, +therefore, may still be left in doubt, as in substance they contain +nothing opposed to Catholic doctrine or to Christian morality. On the +contrary, if we examine them carefully, we shall see that they contain a +lesson to pride and arrogance, in the person of Don Luis. This history +might easily serve as an appendix to the "Spiritual Disillusions" of +Father Arbiol. + +As for the opinion entertained by two or three ingenious friends of mine +that the reverend dean, if he were the author, would have used a +different style in his narration, saying "my nephew" in speaking of Don +Luis, and interposing, from time to time, moral reflections of his own, +I do not think it an argument of any great weight. The reverend dean +proposed to himself to tell what had taken place, without seeking to +prove any thesis, and he acted with judgment in narrating things as they +were, without analyzing motives or moralizing. He did not do ill, +either, in my opinion, in concealing his personality, and in avoiding +the use of the word _I_, which is a proof, not only of his humility and +modesty, but of his literary taste also, for the epic poets and +historians who should serve us as models, do not say _I_, even when +speaking of themselves, and are themselves the heroes of the events they +relate. The Athenian Xenophon, to cite an instance, does not say _I_ in +his "Anabasis" but speaks of himself in the third person, when +necessary, as if the historian of those exploits were one person, and +the hero of them another. And there are whole chapters in which no +mention at all is made of Xenophon. Only a little before the famous +battle in which the youthful Cyrus met his death, while this prince was +reviewing the Greeks and barbarians who formed his army, and when that +of his brother Artaxerxes was already near, having been descried on the +broad, treeless plain afar off, first as a little white cloud, then as a +black spot, and, finally, clearly and distinctly--the neighing of the +horses, the creaking of the war-chariots armed with formidable scythes, +the cries of the elephants and the sound of warlike instruments reaching +the ears of the spectators, and the glitter of the brass and gold of the +weapons, irradiated by the sun, striking their eyes--only at that +moment, I repeat, and not before, does Xenophon appear in his own +person; then he emerges from the ranks to speak with Cyrus, and explains +to him the cry that ran from Greek to Greek; it was no other than what +in our day we call the watchword; and on that occasion it was "_Jupiter +the Savior, and victory!_" + +The reverend dean, who was a man of taste, and very well versed in the +classics, would not be likely to fall into the error of introducing +himself into the narrative, and mixing himself up with it, under pretext +of being the uncle or tutor of the hero; and of vexing the reader by +coming out at every step a little difficult or slippery, with a "Stop +there!" or "What are you about to do?" or, "Take care you do not fall, +unhappy boy!" or other warnings of a like sort. Not to open his lips, +on the other hand, or manifest disapprobation in any way whatever, he +being present at least in spirit, would, in the case of some of the +incidents related, have been but little becoming. In view of these +facts, the reverend dean, with the discretion which was characteristic +of him, may possibly have composed the _paralipomena_, without +disclosing his identity to the reader. This much is certain, however--he +added notes and comments of an edifying and profitable character, where +such or such a passage seemed to require them. But these I have +suppressed, for the reason that notes and comments are now out of +fashion, and because this little book would be beyond measure voluminous +if it were printed with these additions. + +I shall insert here, however, in the body of the text, the comment of +the reverend dean on the rapid transformation of Don Luis from +spiritual-mindedness to the reverse, as it is curious and throws much +light on the whole matter. + +"This change of purpose of my nephew," he says, "does not disappoint me. +I foresaw it from the time he wrote me his first letters. I was deceived +in regard to Luisito in the beginning. I believed him to have a true +religious vocation; but I soon recognized the fact that his was a vain +poetic spirit. Mysticism was the form his poetic imaginings took, only +until a more adequate form presented itself. + +"Praised be God, who has willed that Luisito should be undeceived in +time! A bad priest he would have made, if Pepita Ximenez had not so +opportunely presented herself. His very impatience to attain to +perfection at a single bound would have caused me to suspect something +if I had not been blinded by the affection of an uncle. What! are the +favors of Heaven thus obtained all at once? Is it only necessary to +present one's self in order to triumph? A friend of mine, a naval +officer, used to relate that, when he was in certain cities of America, +being then very young, he sought to gain favor with the ladies with too +much precipitation, and that they would say to him in their languid +American accent: 'You have but just presented yourself, and you already +want to be loved. Do something to deserve it, if you are able.' If these +ladies answered thus, what answer will not Heaven give to those who hope +to gain it without merit, and in the twinkling of an eye? Many efforts +must be made, much purification is needed, much penance must be done, in +order to begin to stand well in the sight of God, and to enjoy his +favors. Even in those vain and false philosophies that have in them +anything of mysticism, no supernatural gift or grace is received without +a powerful effort and a costly sacrifice. Iamblichus was not given +power to evoke the genii, and cause them to emerge from the fountain of +Gadara, without first spending days and nights in study, and mortifying +the body with privations and abstinences. Apollonius of Tyana is thought +to have mortified himself finely before performing his false miracles. +And in our own day the Krausists, who behold God, as they affirm, with +corporeal vision, are forced to read and learn beforehand the whole +"Analytics" of Sanz del Rio, which is a much harder task and a greater +proof of patience and endurance than to flagellate the body until it +looks like a ripe fig. My nephew desired, without effort or merit, to be +a perfect man, and--see how it has ended! The important thing now is +that he shall make a good husband, and that, since he is unsuited for +great things, he may be fit for smaller ones--for domestic life, and to +make Pepita happy, whose only fault, after all, is to have fallen madly +in love with him, with all the ingenuousness and violence of an untamed +creature." + + * * * * * + +Thus far the comments of the reverend dean, written with easy +familiarity, as if for himself alone; for the good man was far from +suspecting that I would play him the trick of giving them to the public. + + * * * * * + +Don Luis, in the middle of the street, at two o'clock in the morning, +was occupied with the thought, as we have said, that his life, that +until now he had dreamed might be worthy of the "Golden Legend," was +about to be converted into a sweet and perpetual idyl. He had not been +able to resist the lures of earthly passion. He had failed to imitate +the example set by so many saints, among others by St. Vincent Ferrer +with regard, to a certain dissolute lady of Valencia; though, indeed, +the cases were dissimilar. For if to flee from the diabolical courtesan +in question was an act of heroic virtue in St. Vincent, to flee from the +self-abandonment, the ingenuousness, and the humility of Pepita would, +in him, have been something as monstrous and cruel as if, when Ruth lay +down at the feet of Boaz, saying to him, "I am thy handmaid; spread +therefore thy skirt over thine handmaid," Boaz had given her a blow and +sent her about her business! Don Luis, then, when Pepita surrendered +herself to him, was obliged to follow the example of Boaz, and exclaim: +"Daughter, blessed be thou of the Lord; thou hast shewed more kindness +in the latter end than at the beginning." Thus did Don Luis justify +himself in not following the example of St. Vincent, and other saints no +less churlish. As for the ill success of the design he had entertained +of imitating St. Edward, he tried also to justify and excuse it. St. +Edward married for reasons of state, and without entertaining any +affection for Queen Edith; but in his case and in that of Pepita +Ximenez there were no reasons of state, but only a tender love on both +sides. + +Don Luis, however, did not deny to himself--and this imparted to his +present happiness a slight tinge of melancholy--that he had proved false +to his ideal; that he had been vanquished in the conflict. Those who +have no ideal, who have never had an ideal, would not distress +themselves on this account. Don Luis did distress himself; but he +presently came to the conclusion that he would substitute a more humble +and easily attained ideal for his former exalted one. And although the +recollection of Don Quixote's resolution to turn shepherd, on being +vanquished by the Knight of the White Moon, here crossed his mind with +ludicrous appositeness, he was in no way daunted by it. He thought, in +union with Pepita Ximenez, to renew, in our prosaic and unbelieving +time, the golden age, and to repeat the pious example of Philemon and +Baucis, creating: a model of patriarchal life in these pleasant fields, +founding in the place where he was born a home presided over by +religion, that should be at once the asylum of the needy, the center of +culture and friendly conviviality, and the clear mirror in which the +domestic virtues should be reflected; joining in one, finally, conjugal +love and the love of God, in order that God might sanctify and be +present in their dwelling, making it the temple in which both should be +his ministers, until, by the will of Heaven, they should be called to a +better life. + +Two obstacles must first be removed, however, before all this could be +realized, and Don Luis began to consider with himself how he might best +remove them. + +The one was the displeasure, perhaps the anger, of his father, whom he +had defrauded of his dearest hopes. The other was of a very different +and, in a certain sense, of a much more serious character. Don Luis, +while he entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was right in +defending Pepita from the gross insults of the Count of Genazahar by the +weapons of argument only, and in taking no vengeance for the scorn and +contempt with which those arguments were listened to. But, having now +determined to lay aside the cassock, and obliged, as he was, to declare +immediately that he was betrothed to Pepita and was going to marry her, +Don Luis, notwithstanding his peaceable disposition, his dreams of human +brotherhood, and his religious belief, all of which remained intact in +his soul, and all of which were alike opposed to violent measures, could +not succeed in reconciling it with his dignity to refrain from breaking +the head of the insolent count. He knew well that dueling is a barbarous +practice; that Pepita had no need of the blood of the count to wash +from her name the stain of calumny; and even that the count himself had +uttered the insults he had uttered, not because he believed them, nor +perhaps through an excess of hatred, but through stupidity and want of +breeding. Notwithstanding all these reflections, however, Don Luis was +conscious that he would never again be able to respect himself, and, as +a consequence, would never be able to perform to his taste the _role_ of +Philemon, if he did not begin with that of Furabras, by giving the count +his deserts; asking God, meantime, never again to place him in a similar +position. + +This matter, then, being decided upon, he resolved to bring it to an end +as soon as possible. And as it appeared to him that it would be +inexpedient, as well as in bad taste, to arrange the affair through +seconds, and thus make the honor of Pepita a subject of common talk, he +determined to provoke a quarrel with the count under some other pretext. + +Thinking that the count, being a stranger in the village and a confirmed +gambler, might possibly be still engaged at play in the club-house, +notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, Don Luis went straight there. + +The club-house was still open, but, both in the court-yard and the +parlors, the lights were nearly all extinguished. In one apartment only +was there still a light. Thither Don Luis directed his steps, and, on +reaching it, he saw through the open door the Count of Genazahar engaged +in playing _monte_, in which he acted as banker. Only five other persons +were playing; two were strangers like the count; the others were the +captain of cavalry in charge of the remount, Currito, and the doctor. +Things could not have been better arranged to suit the purpose of Don +Luis. So engrossed were the players in their game that they did not +observe him, who, as soon as he saw the count, left the club-house and +went rapidly homeward. + +On reaching his house the door was opened for him by a servant. Don Luis +inquired for his father, and, finding that he was asleep, procured a +light and went up to his own room, taking care to make no noise lest he +should disturb him. There he took some three thousand reals in gold that +he had laid by, and put them in his pocket. He then called the servant +to open the door for him again, and returned to the club-house. + +Arrived there, Don Luis entered the parlor in which the players were, +walking noisily, and giving himself the airs of a fop. The players were +struck with amazement at seeing him. + +"You here, at this hour!" said Currito. + +"Where do you come from, little priest?" said the doctor. + +"Have you come to preach me another sermon?" cried the count. + +"I have done with sermons," returned Don Luis, calmly. "The bad success +of the last one I preached has clearly convinced me that God does not +call me to that path in life, and I have chosen another. You, count, +have wrought my conversion. I have thrown aside the cassock. I wish to +amuse myself; I am in the flower of my youth, and I want to enjoy it." + +"Come, I am glad of that," returned the count; "but take care, my lad, +for, if the flower be a delicate one, it may wither and drop its leaves +before their time." + +"I shall take care of that," returned Don Luis. "I see you are playing; +I feel inspired. You are dealing. Do you know, count, that it would be +amusing if I should break your bank?" + +"You think it would be amusing, eh? You have been dining liberally!" + +"I have dined as I choose to dine." + +"The youngster is learning to answer back." + +"I learn what it is my pleasure to learn." + +"Damnation!" cried the count, and the storm was about to burst, when the +captain, interposing, succeeded in re-establishing the peace. + +"Come," said the count, when he had recovered his temper, "out with your +cash, and try your luck." + +Don Luis seated himself at the table, and took out all his gold. At +sight of it the count regained his serenity completely, for it must have +exceeded in amount the sum he had in the bank, and he already pleased +himself in anticipation with the thought of winning it. + +"There is no need to cudgel one's brains much in this game," said Don +Luis to the count; "I think I understand it already. I put money on a +card, and if the card turns up, I win; and if the card opposed to it +turns up, you win." + +"Just so, my young friend; you have a strong understanding." + +"And the best of it is that I have not only a strong understanding, but +a strong will as well. But, though I may have the stubbornness of the +donkey, I am not the complete donkey that many a one I know of is." + +"What a witty mood you are in to-night, and how anxious you are to +display your wit!" + +Don Luis was silent. He played a few times, and was so lucky as to win +each time. + +The count began to be annoyed. + +"What if the youngster should pluck me?" he said to himself. "Fortune +favors the innocent." + +While the count was troubling himself with this reflection, Don Luis, +feeling fatigued, and weary now of the part he was playing, determined +to end the matter at once. + +"The object of all this," he said, "is to see if I can win all your +gold, or if you can win mine. Is it not so, count?" + +"Just so." + +"Well, then, why should we remain here all night? It is getting late, +and, according to your advice, I ought to retire early, so that the +flower of my youth may not wither before its time." + +"How is this? Do you want to go away already? Do you want to back out?" + +"I have not the slightest desire to back out. Quite the +contrary.--Currito, tell me, in this heap of gold here, is there not +already more than there is in the bank?" + +Currito looked at the gold and answered: + +"Without a doubt." + +"How shall I explain," asked Don Luis, "that I wish to stake on one card +all that I have here, against what there is in the bank?" + +"You do that," responded Currito, "by saying, 'I play _banco!_'" + +"Well, then, I play _banco_," said Don Luis, addressing himself to the +count; "I play _banco_ on this king of spades, whose companion will to a +certainty turn up before his opponent the three does." + +The count, whose whole cash capital was in the bank, began to be alarmed +at the risk he ran; but there was nothing for it but to accept. + +It is a common saying that those who are fortunate in love are +unfortunate at play but the reverse of this is often more nearly the +truth. He who is fortunate in one thing is apt to be fortunate in +everything; it is the same when one is unfortunate. + +The count continued to draw cards, but no _three_ turned up. His +emotion, notwithstanding his efforts to conceal it, was great. Finally, +he came to a card which he knew by the lines at the top to be the king +of hearts, and paused. + +"Draw," said the captain. + +"It is no use! The king of hearts! Curses on it! The little priest has +plucked me. Take up your money." + +The count threw the cards angrily on the table. + +Don Luis took up the money calmly, and with apparent indifference. + +After a short silence the count said: + +"My little priest, you must give me my revenge." + +"I see no such necessity." + +"It seems to me that between gentlemen--" + +"According to that rule the game would have no end," said Don Luis, "and +it would be better to save one's self the trouble of playing +altogether." + +"Give me my revenge," replied the count, without paying any attention to +this argument. + +"Be it so," returned Don Luis; "I wish to be generous." + +The count took up the cards again, and proceeded to deal. + +"Stop a moment," said Don Luis; "let us understand each other. Where is +the money for your new bank?" + +The count showed signs of confusion and disturbance. + +"I have no money here," he returned, "but it seems to me that my word is +more than enough." + +Don Luis answered, with grave and measured accent: + +"Count, I should be quite willing to trust the word of a gentleman, and +allow him to remain in my debt, if it were not that in doing so I should +fear to lose your friendship, which I am now in a fair way to gain; but, +as I was a witness this morning to the cruelty with which you treated +certain friends of mine, to whom you are indebted, I do not wish to run +the risk of becoming culpable in your eyes by means of the same fault. +How ridiculous to suppose that I should voluntarily incur your enmity by +lending you money which you would not repay me, as you have not repaid, +except with insults, that which you owe Pepita Ximenez!" + +From the fact that this accusation was true, the offense was all the +greater. The count became livid with anger, and, by this time on his +feet, ready to come to blows with the collegian. + +"You lie, slanderer!" he exclaimed. "I shall tear you limb from limb, +you----" + +This last insult, which concerned the honor of her whose memory was most +sacred to him, was never finished; its end never reached his ears. For, +with marvelous quickness, dexterity, and force, he reached across the +table which was between himself and the count, and, with the light, +flexible bamboo cane with which he had armed himself, struck his +antagonist on the face, raising on it instantly a dark purple welt. + +There was neither retort, outcry, nor uproar after this. When the hands +come into play, the tongue is apt to be silent. The count was about to +throw himself on Don Luis, for the purpose of tearing him to pieces, if +it were in his power. But opinion had changed greatly since yesterday +morning, and was now on the side of Don Luis. The captain, the doctor, +and even Currito, who now showed more courage than he had done on that +occasion, all held back the count, who struggled and fought ferociously +to release himself. + +"Let me go!" he cried; "let me get at him and kill him!" + +"I do not seek to prevent a duel," said the captain; "a duel is +inevitable. I only seek to prevent your fighting here, like two porters. +I should be wanting in self-respect if I consented to be present at +such a combat." + +"Let weapons be brought!" said the count; "I do not wish to defer the +affair for a single moment. At once--and here!" + +"Will you fight with sabers?" said the captain. + +"Yes," responded Don Luis. + +"Sabers be it," said the count. + +All this was said in a low voice, so that nothing might be heard in the +street. Even the servants of the club-house, who slept on chairs in the +kitchen and in the yard, were not awakened by the noise. + +Don Luis chose as his seconds the captain and Currito; the count chose +the two strangers. The doctor made ready to practice his art, and show +the signal of the Red Cross. + +It was not yet daylight. It was agreed that the apartment in which they +were, should be the field of combat, the door being first closed. The +captain went to his house for the sabers, and returned soon afterward, +carrying them under the cloak which he had put on for the purpose of +concealing them from view. + +We already know that Don Luis had never wielded a weapon in his life. +Fortunately the count, although he had never studied theology, or +entertained the purpose of becoming a priest, was not much more skilled +than he in the art of handling the broadsword. + +The only roles laid down for the duel were that, their sabers once in +hand, each of the combatants should use his weapon as Heaven might best +direct him. + +The door of the apartment was closed. The tables and chairs were placed +in a corner, to leave a free field for the combatants, and the lights +were suitably disposed. + +Don Luis and the count divested themselves of their coats and +waistcoats, remaining in their shirt-sleeves, and selected, each one, +his weapon. The seconds stood on one side. At a signal from the captain, +the combat began. Between two persons who know neither how to parry a +stroke nor how to put themselves on guard, a combat must of necessity be +brief; and such this one was. + +The fury of the count, restrained for some time past, now burst forth +and blinded his reason. He was strong, and he had wrists of steel; and +he showered down on Don Luis, with his saber, a rain of blows without +order or sequence. Four times he succeeded in touching Don Luis--each +time, fortunately, with the flat of his weapon. He bruised his +shoulders, but did not wound him. The young theologian had need of all +his strength to keep from falling to the floor, overcome by the force of +the blows and the pain of his bruises. A fifth time the count struck +Don Luis, and this time with the edge of his weapon, although sidewise. +The blood of Don Luis began to flow abundantly. Far from stopping, the +count resumed the attack with renewed fury, in the hope of again +wounding his antagonist. He almost placed himself under the weapon of +Don Luis. The latter, instead of putting himself in position to parry, +brought his sword down vigorously on his adversary, and succeeded in +wounding the count in the head. The blood gushed forth, and ran down his +forehead and into his eyes. Stunned by the blow, the count fell heavily +to the floor. + +The whole combat was a matter of a few seconds. Don Luis had remained +tranquil throughout, like a Stoic philosopher, who is obliged by the +hard law of necessity to take part in a conflict opposed alike to his +habits and his ways of thought. But no sooner did he see his antagonist +extended on the floor, bathed in blood and looking as though he were +dead, than he experienced the most poignant anguish, and feared for a +moment that he should faint. He who, until within the last five or six +hours, had held unwaveringly to his resolution of being a priest, a +missionary, a minister and a messenger of the gospel, had committed, or +accused himself of having committed, during those few hours, every +crime, and of breaking all the commandments of God. There was now no +mortal sin by which he was not contaminated. First, his purpose of +leading a life of perfect and heroic holiness had been put to flight; +then followed his purpose of leading a life of holiness of a more easy, +comfortable, and _bourgeois_ sort. The devil seemed to please himself in +over-throwing his plans. He reflected that he could now no longer be +even a Christian Philemon, for to lay his neighbor's head open with a +stroke of a saber was not a very good beginning of his idyl. + +Don Luis, after the agitations of the day, was now in a condition +resembling that of a man who has brain-fever. Currito and the captain, +one at each side, took hold of him and led him home. + + * * * * * + +Don Pedro de Vargas got out of bed in terror when he was told that his +son had come home wounded. He ran to see him, examined his bruises and +the wound in his arm, and saw that they were none of them attended with +danger; but he broke out into threats of vengeance, and would not be +pacified until he was made acquainted with the particulars of the +affair, and learned that Don Luis had known how to avenge himself in +spite of his theology. + +The doctor came soon after to examine the wound, and was of opinion that +in three or four days' time Don Luis would be able to go out again, as +if nothing had happened. With the count, on the other hand, it would be +a matter of months. His life, however, was in no danger. He had returned +to consciousness, and had asked to be taken to his own village, which +was distant only a league from the village which these events took +place. A hired coach had been procured, and he had been taken thither, +accompanied by his servant, and the two strangers who had acted as his +seconds. + +Four days after the affair the doctor's opinion was justified by the +result, and Don Luis, although sore from his bruises, and with his wound +still open, was in a condition to go out, and promised a complete +recovery within a short time. + +The first duty which Don Luis thought himself obliged to fulfill, as +soon as he was off the sick-list, was to confess to his father his love +for Pepita, and his intention of marrying her. + +Don Pedro had not gone to the country, nor had he occupied himself in +any other way than in taking care of his son during the sickness of the +latter. He was constantly at his side, waiting on him and petting him +with tender affection. + +On the morning of the 27th of June, after the doctor had gone, Don Pedro +being alone with his son, the confession, so difficult for Don Luis to +make, took place in the following manner: + +"Father," said Don Luis, "I ought not to deceive you any longer. To-day +I am going to confess my faults to you, and cast away hypocrisy." + +"If it is a confession you are about to make, my boy, it would be better +for you to send for the reverend vicar. My standard of morality is an +indulgent one, and I shall give you absolution for everything, without +my absolution being of much value to you, however. But if you wish to +confide to me some weighty secret, as to your best friend, begin by all +means; I am ready to listen to you." + +"What I am about to confess to you is a very serious fault of which I +have been guilty; and I am ashamed to--" + +"You have no need to be ashamed before your father; speak frankly." + +Here Don Luis, growing very red, and with visible confusion, said: + +"My secret is, that I am in love with--Pepita Ximenez--and that she--" + +Don Pedro interrupted his son with a burst of laughter, and finished the +sentence for him: + +"And that she is in love with you, and that on the night of St. John's +eve you were with her in tender conference until two o'clock in the +morning, and that, for her sake, you sought a quarrel with the Count of +Genazahar, whose head you have broken. A pretty secret you confide to +me, truly! There isn't a cat or a dog in the village that is not fully +acquainted with every detail of the business. The only thing there +seemed a possibility of being able to conceal was, that your interview +lasted until just two o'clock in the morning; but some gypsy cake-women +chanced to see you leave Pepita's house, and did not stop until they had +told every living creature in the place of it. Pepita, besides, makes no +great effort to conceal the truth, and in this she does well, for that +would be only the concealment of Antequera. Since you have been wounded, +Pepita comes here twice a day, and sends Antonona two or three times +more to inquire after you; and if they have not come in to see you, it +is because I would not consent to their doing so, lest it should excite +you." + +The confusion and the distress of Don Luis reached their climax when he +heard his father thus compendiously tell the whole story. + +"How surprised," he said, "how astounded you must have been!" + +"No, my boy, I was neither surprised nor astounded. The matter has been +known in the village only for four days, and indeed, to tell the truth, +your transformation did create some surprise. 'Oh, the sly-boots! the +wolf in sheep's clothing! the hypocrite!' every one exclaimed, 'how we +have been deceived in him!' The reverend vicar, above all, is quite +bewildered. He is still crossing himself to think how you toiled in the +vineyard of the Lord on the night of the 23d and the morning of the +24th, and of how diverse a character were your labors. But there was +nothing in these occurrences to surprise me, except your wound. We old +people can feel the grass grow. It is not easy for the chickens to +deceive the huckster." + +"It is true, I sought to deceive you! I have been a hypocrite!" + +"Don't be a fool; I do not say this to blame you. I say it in order to +give myself an air of perspicacity. But let us speak with frankness. My +boasting is, after all, without foundation. I knew, step by step, for +more than two months past, the progress of your love-affair with Pepita; +but I know it because your uncle the dean, to whom you were writing all +that passed within your mind, has communicated it to me. Listen to your +uncle's letter of accusation, and to the answer I gave him, a very +important document, of which I have kept the copy." + +Don Pedro took some papers from his pocket, and read as follows: + + * * * * * + + _The Dean's Letter._ + +"MY DEAR BROTHER: It grieves me to the heart to be obliged to give you a +piece of bad news; but I trust that God will grant you patience and +endurance to enable you to hear it without feeling too much anger or +bitterness. Luisito has been writing me strange letters for some days +past, in which he reveals, in the midst of his mystical exaltation, an +inclination, earthly and sinful enough, toward a certain widow, +charming, mischievous, and coquettish, who lives in your village. Up to +the present I had deceived myself, believing Luisito's vocation to be a +true one; and I flattered myself with giving to the Church of God, in +him, a wise, virtuous, and exemplary priest. But his letters have +dispelled my illusions. Luisito shows himself, in them, to have more of +poetry than of true piety in his nature; and the widow, who must be a +limb of Satan, will be able to vanquish him with but a very slight +effort. Although I write to Luisito admonishing him to flee from +temptation, I am already certain that he will fall into it. This ought +not to grieve me; for, if he is to be false to his vocation, to indulge +in gallantries, and to make love, it is better that this evil +disposition should reveal itself in time, and that he should not become +a priest. I should not, therefore, see any serious objection to +Luisito's remaining with you, for the purpose of being tested by the +touchstone and analyzed in the crucible of such a love, making the +little widow the agent by whose means might be discovered how great is +the quantity of the pure gold of his clerical virtues, and how much +alloy is mixed with that gold, were it not that we are met by the +difficulty that the widow whom we would thus convert into a faithful +assayer, is the object of your own addresses, and, it may be, your +sweetheart. That your son should turn out to be your rival would be too +serious a matter. This would be a monstrous scandal, and, to avoid it in +time, I write to you to-day to the end that, under whatever pretext, you +may send or bring Luisito here--the sooner the better." + +Don Luis listened in silence, and with his eyes cast down. His father +continued: + +"To this letter of the dean I answered as follows: + + * * * * * + + _Don Pedro's Answer._ + +"DEAR BROTHER AND VENERABLE SPIRITUAL FATHER: I return you a thousand +thanks for the news you send me, and for your counsel and advice. +Although I flatter myself with not being wanting in shrewdness, I +confess my stupidity on this occasion; I was blinded by vanity. Pepita +Ximenez, from the time that my son arrived here, manifested toward me so +much amiability and affection that I began to indulge in pleasing hopes +on my own account. Your letter was necessary to undeceive me. I now +understand that in making herself so sociable, in showing me so many +attentions, and in dancing attendance on me, as she did, this cunning +Pepita had in her mind only the father of the smooth-faced theologian. I +shall not attempt to conceal from you that, for the moment, this +disappointment mortified and distressed me a little; but, when I +reflected over it with due consideration, my mortification and my +distress were converted into joy. Luis is an excellent boy. Since he has +been with me, I have learned to regard him with much greater affection +than formerly. I parted from him, and gave him up to you to educate, +because my own life was not very exemplary, and, for this and other +reasons, he would have grown up here a savage. You went beyond my hopes +and even my desires, and almost made of Luisito a father of the Church. +To have a holy son would have flattered my vanity; but I should have +been very sorry to remain without an heir to my house and name, who +would give me handsome grandchildren, and who, after my death, would +enjoy my wealth, which is my glory, for I acquired it by skill and +industry, and not by artifices and tricks. Perhaps the conviction I had +that there was no remedy, and that Luis would inevitably go to convert +the Chinese, the Indians, and the blacks of Monicongo made me resolve on +marrying, so as to provide myself with an heir. Naturally enough, I cast +my eyes on Pepita Ximenez, who is not, as you imagine, a limb of Satan, +but a lovely creature, as innocent as an angel, and ardent in her +nature, rather than coquettish. I have so good an opinion of Pepita +that, if she were again sixteen, with a domineering mother who +tyrannized over her, and if I were eighty, like Don Gumersindo, that is +to say, if death were already knocking at the door, I would marry +Pepita, that her smile might cheer me on my death-bed, as if my guardian +angel had taken human shape in her; and for the purpose of leaving her +my position, my fortune, and my name. But Pepita is not sixteen, but +twenty, nor is she now in the power of that serpent, her mother; nor am +I eighty, but fifty-five. I am at the very worst age, because I begin to +feel myself considerably the worse for wear, with something of asthma, a +good deal of cough, rheumatic pains, and other chronic ailments; yet the +devil a wish have I to die, notwithstanding! I believe I shall not die +for twenty years to come, and, as I am thirty-five years older than +Pepita, you may calculate the miserable future that would await her, +tied to an old man who would live forever. At the end of a few years of +marriage she would be compelled to hate me, notwithstanding her +goodness. Doubtless it is because she is good and wise, that she has not +chosen to accept me for a husband, notwithstanding the perseverance and +the obstinacy with which I have proposed it to her. How much do I not +thank her for this now! Even my self-love, wounded by her scorn, is +soothed by the reflection that, if she does not love me, at least she +loves one of my blood; she is captivated by a son of mine. If this fresh +and luxuriant ivy, I say to myself, refuses to twine around the old +trunk, worm-eaten already, it climbs by it to reach the new sprout it +has put forth--a green and flourishing offshoot. May God bless them +both, and make their love prosper! Far from taking the boy to you again, +I shall keep him here--by force, if it be necessary. I have determined +to conspire against his vocation. I dream already of seeing him married. +I shall grow young again, contemplating the handsome pair, joined +together by love. And how will it be when they shall have given me a +couple of grandchildren? Instead of going as a missionary, and bringing +back to me from Australia, or Madagascar, or India, neophytes black as +soot, with lips the size of your hand, or yellow as deer-skin, and with +eyes like owls, would it not be better for Luisito to preach the gospel +in his own house, and to give me a series of little catechumens, fair, +rosy, with eyes like those of Pepita, who will resemble cherubim without +wings? The catechumens he would bring me from those foreign lands I +should have to keep at a respectful distance, in order not to be +overpowered by their odor; while those I speak of would seem to me like +roses of paradise, and would come to climb up on my knees, and would +call me grand-papa, and pat with their little hands the bald spot I am +beginning to get. What would you have? When I was in all my vigor, I did +not think of domestic joys; but now, that I am approaching old age, if I +have not already entered on it, as I have no intention of turning monk, +I please myself in thinking that I shall play the _role_ of patriarch. +And do not imagine, either, that I am going to leave it to time to bring +to a happy close this incipient engagement. No! I shall myself set to +work to do this. Continuing your comparison, since you transform Pepita +into a crucible, and Luis into a metal, I shall find, or rather I have +found already, a bellows, or blow-pipe, very well adapted to kindle up +the fire, so that the metal may melt in it the more quickly. Antonona +has an understanding with me already, and through her I know that Pepita +is over head and ears in love. We have agreed that I shall continue to +seem blind to everything, and to know nothing of what passes. The +reverend vicar, who is a simple soul, always in the clouds, helps me as +much as Antonona does, or more, and without knowing it, because he +repeats to Pepita everything Luis says to him, and everything Pepita +says to him to Luis; so that this excellent man, with the weight of +half a century in each foot, has been converted--O miracle of love and +of innocence!--into a carrier-dove by which the two lovers send each +other their flatteries and endearments, while they are as ignorant as he +is of the fact. So powerful a combination of natural and artificial +methods ought to give an infallible result. You will be made acquainted +with this result when I give you notice of the wedding, so that you may +come to perform the ceremony, or else send the lovers your blessing and +a handsome present." + + * * * * * + +With these words Don Pedro finished the reading of his letter; and, on +looking again at Don Luis, he saw that he had been listening to him with +his eyes full of tears. + +Father and son gave each other a long and close embrace. + + * * * * * + +Just a month from the date of this interview, the wedding of Don Luis de +Vargas and Pepita Ximenez took place. + +The reverend dean--fearing the ridicule of his brother at the +spiritual-mindedness of Don Luis having thus come to naught, and +recognizing also that he would not play a very dignified _role_ in the +village, where every one would say he had a poor knack at turning out +saints--declined to be present, giving his occupations as an excuse; +although he sent his blessing, and a magnificent pair of ear-rings as a +present for Pepita. + +The reverend vicar, therefore, had the pleasure of marrying her to Don +Luis. + +The bride, elegantly attired, was thought lovely by every one, and was +looked upon as a good exchange for the hair shirt and the scourge. + +That night Don Pedro gave a magnificent ball in the court-yard of his +house and the contiguous apartments. Servants and gentlemen, nobles and +laborers, ladies and country-girls were present, and mingled together, +as if it were the ideal golden age--though why called golden I know not. +Four skillful, or if not skillful at least indefatigable guitar-players +played a _fandango_. Two gypsies, a man and a woman, both famous +singers, sang verses of a tender character and appropriate to the +occasion; and the school-master read epithalamium in heroic verse. + +There were tarts, fritters, jumbles, ginger-bread, sponge-cake, and wine +in abundance for the common people. The gentry regaled themselves selves +with liquors, chocolate, orange cordial, honey, and various kinds of +aromatic and delicate punches. + +Don Pedro was like a boy--sprightly, gallant, and full of jests. It did +not look as if there were much truth in what he had said in his letter +to the dean in regard to his rheumatism and other ailments. He danced +the _fandango_ with Pepita, as also with the most attractive among her +maids and with six or seven of the village girls. He gave each of them, +on reconducting her, tired out, to her seat, the prescribed embrace, and +to the least serious of them a couple of pinches, though this latter +forms no part of the ceremonial. He carried his gallantry to the extreme +of dancing with Dona Casilda, who could not refuse him; who, with her +two hundred and fifty pounds of humanity, and the heat of July, +perspired at every pore. Finally, Don Pedro stuffed Currito so full, and +made him drink so often to the health of the newly married pair, that +the muleteer Dientes was obliged to carry him home to sleep off the +effect of his excesses, slung like a skin of wine across the back of an +ass! + +The ball lasted until three in the morning; but the young couple +discreetly disappeared before eleven, and retired to the house of +Pepita. There Don Luis re-entered, with light, pomp, and majesty, and as +adored lord and master, the room which, little more than a month before, +he had entered in darkness, and filled with terror and confusion. + +Although it is the unfailing use and custom of the village to treat +every widow or widower who marries again to a terrible _charivari_, +leaving them not a moment's rest from the cow-bells during the first +night after marriage, Pepita was such a favorite, Don Pedro was so much +respected, and Don Luis was so beloved, that there were no bells on this +occasion, nor was there the least attempt made at ringing them--a +singular circumstance, which is recorded as such in the annals of the +village. + + + + +EPILOGUE. + +LETTERS OF MY BROTHER + + +The history of Pepita and Luisito should, properly speaking, end here. +This epilogue is not necessary to the story; but, as it formed part of +the bundle of papers left at his death by the reverend dean, although we +refrain from publishing it entire, we shall at least give a sample of +it. + +No one can entertain the least doubt that Don Luis and Pepita, united by +an irresistible love, almost of the same age, she beautiful, he brave +and handsome, both intelligent and full of goodness, would enjoy during +a long life as much peace and happiness as falls to the lot of mortals. +And this supposition, which, for those who have read the preceding +narrative, is a logically drawn deduction from it, is converted into a +certainty for him who reads the epilogue. + +The epilogue gives, besides, some information respecting the secondary +personages of the narrative, in whose fate the reader may possibly be +interested. It consists of a collection of letters addressed by Don +Pedro de Vargas to his brother the dean, dating from the day of his +son's marriage to four years later. + +Without prefixing to them the dates, although following their +chronological order, we shall transcribe here a few short extracts from +these letters, and thus bring our task to an end: + + * * * * * + +Luis manifests the most lively gratitude toward Antonona, without whose +services he would not now possess Pepita. But this woman, the accomplice +of the sole fault of which either he or Pepita had been guilty in their +lives, living as she did on the most familiar footing in the house, and +fully acquainted with all that had taken place, could not but be in the +way. To get rid of her, then, and at the same time to do her a service, +Luis set to work to bring about a reconciliation between her and her +husband, whose daily fits of drunkenness she had refused to put up with. +The son of Master Cencias gave his promise that he would get drunk +_hardly ever_; but he would not venture on an absolute and +uncompromising _never_. Confiding in this half-promise, however, +Antonona consented to return to the conjugal roof. Husband and wife +being thus reunited, it occurred to Luis that a homeopathic principle of +treatment might prove efficacious with the son of Master Cencias, in +curing him radically of his vice; for, having heard it affirmed that +confectioners detest sweets, he concluded that, on the same principle, +tavern-keepers ought to detest whisky; and he sent Antonona and her +husband to the capital of the province, where, at his own cost, he set +them up in a fine tavern. Both live there together happily; they have +succeeded in obtaining many patrons, and will probably become rich. He +still gets drunk occasionally; but Antonona, who is the stronger of the +two, is accustomed at such times to give him a good trouncing, to help +on his cure. + + * * * * * + +Currito, anxious to imitate his cousin, whom he admires more and more +every day, and seeing and enjoying the domestic felicity of Pepita and +Luis, has looked up a sweetheart in haste, and married the daughter of a +rich farmer of the place, health, fresh, red as a poppy, and who +promises soon to acquire proportions as ample as those of her +mother-in-law Casilda. + + * * * * * + +The Count of Genazahar, after being confined to his bed for five months, +is now cured of his wound, and, according to what they say, is very much +improved in respect to his manners. He paid Pepita, a short time ago, +more than half of his debt to her, and asks for a respite in the payment +of the remainder. + + * * * * * + +We have had a very great grief, although one that we had foreseen for +some time past. The father vicar, yielding to the advance of years, has +passed to a better life. Pepita remained to the last at his bedside, and +closed his eyes with her own beautiful hands. The father vicar died the +death of a blessed servant of the Lord. Rather than death, it seemed a +happy transit to serener regions. Nevertheless, Pepita and all of us +have mourned him sincerely. He has left behind him only a few dollars +and his furniture, for he gave all he had in alms. His death would have +made orphans of the poor of the village, if it were not that Pepita +still lives. + + * * * * * + +Every one in the village laments the death of the reverend vicar; and +there are many who regard him as a real saint, worthy of religious +honors, and who attribute miracles to him. I know not how that may be, +but I do know that he was an excellent man, and that he must have gone +straight to heaven, where we may hope to have in him an intercessor. +With all this, his humility, his modesty, and his fear of God were such +that he spoke of his sins in the hour of death, as if he had in reality +committed any, and he besought our prayers to the Lord and to the Virgin +Mary for their forgiveness. + +A strong impression has been produced on the mind of Luis by the +exemplary life and death of this man. He was simple, it must be +confessed, and of limited intelligence, but of upright will, ardent, +faith, and fervent charity. When Luis compares himself with the vicar, +he feels humiliated. This has infused into his soul a certain bitter +melancholy; but Pepita, who has a great deal of tact, dissipates it with +smiles and caresses. + + * * * * * + +Everything prospers with us. Luis and I have some wine-vaults than which +there are no better in Spain, if we except those of Xeres. The +olive-crop of this year has been superb. We can afford to allow +ourselves every species of luxury; and I counsel Luis and Pepita to make +the tour of Germany, France, and Italy, as soon as Pepita is over her +trouble, and once more in her usual health. The children may, without +improvidence or folly, throw away a few thousands of dollars on the +expedition, and bring back many fine books, pieces of furniture, and +objects of art, to adorn their dwelling. + +We have deferred the baptism for two weeks, in order that it may take +place on the first anniversary of the wedding. The child is a marvel of +beauty, and is very healthy. I am the godfather, and he has been named +after me. I am already dreaming of the time when Periquito shall begin +to talk, and amuse us with his prattle. + +In order that nothing may be wanting to the prosperity of this tender +pair, it turns out now, according to letters received from Havana, that +the brother of Pepita, whose evil ways we feared might disgrace the +family, is almost--and indeed without an _almost_--about to honor and +elevate it by becoming a person of eminence. During all the time in +which we heard nothing from him, he has been profiting by his +opportunities, and fortune has sent him favoring gales. He obtained +another employment in the custom-house; then he trafficked in negroes; +then he failed--an occurrence which for certain business men is like a +good pruning for trees, making them sprout again with fresh vigor--and +now he is so prosperous that he has formed the resolution of entering +the highest circles of the aristocracy, under the title of marquis or +duke. Pepita is frightened and troubled at this unexpected turn of +fortune, but I tell her not to be foolish: if her brother is, and must +in any case be, a rascal, is it not better that he should at least be a +fortunate one? + + * * * * * + +We might thus go on making extracts did we not fear to weary the reader. +We shall end, then, by copying a few passages from one of the latest +letters: + + * * * * * + +My children have returned from their travels in good health. Periquito +is very mischievous and very charming. Luis and Pepita come back +resolved never again to leave the village, though their lives should be +longer than were those of Philemon and Baucis. They are more in love +with each other than ever. + +They have brought back with them articles of furniture, a great many +books, some pictures, and I know not how many other elegant trifles, +purchased in the countries through which they have traveled, and +principally in Paris, Rome, Florence, and Vienna. + +The affection they entertain for each other, and the tenderness and +cordiality with which they treat each other and every one else, have +exercised a beneficent influence on manners here; and the elegance and +good taste with which they are now completing the furnishing of their +house will go far to make exterior culture take root and spread. + +The people in Madrid say that in the country we are stupid and uncouth; +but they remain where they are, and never take the trouble to come and +reform our manners. On the contrary, no sooner does any one make his +appearance in the country who knows or is worth anything, or who thinks +he knows or is worth anything, than he makes every possible effort to +get away from it, and leaves the fields and provincial towns behind him. +Pepita and Luis pursue the opposite course, and I commend them for it +with my whole heart. They are gradually improving and beautifying their +surroundings, so as to make out of this secluded spot a paradise. + +Do not imagine, however, that the inclination of Pepita and Luis for +material well-being has cooled in the slightest degree their religious +feelings. The piety of both grows deeper every day; and in each new +pleasure or satisfaction which they enjoy, or which they can procure for +their fellow-beings, they see a new benefaction of Heaven, in which they +recognize fresh cause for gratitude. More than this, no pleasure or +satisfaction would be such, none would be of any worth, or substance, or +value in their eyes, were it not for the thought of higher things, and +for the firm belief they have in them. + +Luis, in the midst of his present happiness, never forgets the +dethronement of the ideal he had set up for himself. There are times +when his present life seems to him vulgar, selfish, and prosaic, +compared with the life of sacrifice, with the spiritual existence to +which he believed himself called in the first years of his youth. But +Pepita hastens, solicitous, to dispel his melancholy on such occasions; +and then Luis comprehends and acknowledges that it is possible for man +to serve God in every state and condition, and succeeds in reconciling +the lively faith and the love of God that fill his soul, with this +legitimate love of the earthly and perishable. But in the earthly and +perishable he beholds the divine principle, as it were, without which, +neither in the stars that stud the heavens, nor in the flowers and +fruits that beautify the fields, nor in the eyes of Pepita, nor in the +innocence and beauty of Periquito, would he behold anything lovely. The +greater world, all this magnificent fabric of the universe, he declares, +would without its all-seeing God seem to him sublime indeed, but without +order, or beauty, or purpose. And as for the lesser world, as we are +accustomed to call man, neither would he love it were it not for God; +and this, not because God commands him to love it, but because the +dignity of man, and his title to be loved, have their foundation in God +himself, who not only made the soul of man in his own likeness, but +ennobled also his body, making it the living temple of the Spirit, +holding communion with it by means of the sacrament, and exalting it to +the extreme of uniting with it his uncreate Word. In these and other +arguments, which I am unable to set forth here, Luis finds consolation. +He reconciles himself to having relinquished his purpose of leading a +life devoted to pious meditations, ecstatic contemplation, and apostolic +works, and ceases to feel the sort of generous envy with which the +father vicar inspired him on the day of his death; but both he and +Pepita continue to give thanks, with great Christian devoutness, for +the benefits they enjoy, comprehending that not to their own merit do +they owe these benefits, but only to the goodness of God. + +And so my children have in their house a couple of apartments resembling +beautiful little Catholic chapels or oratories: but I must confess that +these chapels have, too, their trace of paganism--an +amorous-pastoral-poetic and Arcadian air, which is to be seen only +beyond city walls. + +The orchard of Pepita is no longer an orchard, but a most enchanting +garden, with its _araucarias_, its Indian fig-trees, that grow here in +the open air, and its well-arranged though small hot-house, full of rare +plants. + +The dining-room in which we ate the strawberries on the afternoon on +which Pepita and Luis saw and spoke with each other for the second time +has been transformed into a graceful temple, with portico and columns of +white marble. Within is a spacious apartment, comfortably furnished, and +adorned by two beautiful pictures. One represents Psyche, discovering, +by the light of her lamp, Cupid asleep on his couch; the other +represents Chloe, when the fugitive grasshopper has taken refuge in her +bosom, where, believing itself secure, it begins to chirp in the +pleasant hiding-place from which Daphne tries, meanwhile, to take it +forth. + +A very good copy, in Carrara marble, of the Venus de' Medici occupies +the most prominent place in the apartment, and, as it were, presides +over it. On the pedestal are engraved, in letters of gold, these words +of Lucretius: + + "_Nec sine te quidquam dias in luminis oras + Exoritur, neque fit laetum, neque amabile quidquam._" + + +THE END. + + +PEPITA XIMENEZ. + +From the Spanish of JUAN VALERA, + +WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR WRITTEN SPECIALLY FOR THIS EDITION. + + +"Pepita Ximenez," by Senor Don Juan Valera, recently Spanish Minister to +the Government of the United States, is the most successful of recent +novels in Spain, having attained a large number of editions in that +country, and been translated into German, French, Italian, and Bohemian. +Senor Valera is recognized as the most prominent literary man of the +time in Spain. A large number of volumes have come from his pen, all of +which enjoy a great popularity in the author's native land. The present +translation is authorized by Senor Valera, who is admitted by the +publishers to all the rights of a native author. + +=12mo, paper cover. Price, 50 cents.= + + +ALIETTE + +(La Morte). + +From the French of OCTAVE FEUILLET, + +Author of "The Romance of a Poor Young Man," etc., etc. + +_From the London Athenaeum._ + +"Not often has a representative of the past in literature obtained a +more decided success over his younger rivals than M. Octave Feuillet has +obtained with 'La Morte.' Of the popularity of the book it is enough to +say that the fiftieth edition was advertised in Paris within two or +three weeks of publication. The important thing is not that 'La Morte' +has commanded so much success, but that it has deserved it. The story is +that of a hero who has two wives--the first an angel, and the second +something quite different from an angel. The first has been brought up +in the straitest sect of Catholics, the second has been educated to +science, and nothing but science. Of course, in this mere contrast there +is nothing very striking or original. But in the way in which M. +Feuillet has linked the fortunes of Bernard de Vaudricourt to the two, +in the gradual increase of the interest and of the tragic force of the +situation, and, lastly, in the writing itself, there is merit of a most +unusual kind." + +=12mo, paper cover, 50 cents; half bound, 75 cents.= + +New York: D. APPLETON & CO., 3, and 6 Bond Street. + + +_A BRILLIANT NEW AMERICAN NOVEL_ + +A CONVENTIONAL BOHEMIAN. + +A NOVEL. By EDMUND PENDLETON. 12mo. Cloth, $1,25. + + +"A Conventional Bohemian" is a society novel, the greater part of the +action taking place at summer cottages on the shores of New England. The +plot of the story is simple, the action direct, the movement often +dramatic. Although a society novel, it reaches at times the heights of +passion, and reveals a remarkable knowledge of the motives and conflicts +of the human heart. The style is noticeable for epigrammatic wit and +wisdom in the lighter scene, and for dramatic power in the serious ones. +There are a number of well-drawn characters, the heroine being a +peculiarly felicitous study, and the hero a virile and striking +portrait. It is a novel sure of many admirers among those who delight in +intellectual subtlety and artistic execution. + + +_"A POWERFUL, WELL-CONSTRUCTED STORY."_ + +THE ALIENS. + +A NOVEL. By HENRY F. KEENAN, author of "Trajan," etc. 12mo. Cloth, +$1.25. + +"The Aliens" is a stirring, picturesque romance, depicting life and +character in strong contrasts, and marked by an affluent and vivid +style. The scene of the story is laid in the western part of the State +of New York, about fifty years ago--the events coming down to the time +of the Mexican War. + +"He colors richly, warmly, and with the dash of an artist; ... and his +characters grow, and are not manufactured; ... the freshest and most +readable American novel of the season."--_Philadelphia Bulletin_. + +"The prevailing merit of the story is the vivid sense of reality which +the writer gives to scenes and characters; ... above all things, +interesting."--_Rochester Post-Express._ + +"Not second to 'Trajan' in character-painting, felicity of diction, +well-managed conversations, pathos, and humor."--_Journal of Commerce._ + +"Thoroughly interesting in plot, and told with equal skill and +animation."--_Boston Gazette_. + +THE NEW TWENTY-FIVE CENT SERIES. + + +THE SECRET OF HER LIFE. By EDWARD JENKINS, author +of "Ginx's Baby," etc. + +FOR MAIMIE'S SAKE. By GRANT ALLEN, author of "Babylon," +etc. + +THE MASTER OF THE MINE. A Novel. By ROBERT +BUCHANAN. + +THE RABBI'S SPELL. A Russo-Jewish Romance. By STUART +C. CUMBERLAND. + +A DARK HOUSE. A Knot Unravelled. By G. MANVILLE FENN. + +A VAGRANT WIFE. A Novel. By FLORENCE WARDEN, author +of "The House on the Marsh," "A Prince of Darkness," etc., etc. + +A PRINCE OF DARKNESS. A Novel. By FLORENCE WARDEN, +author of "The House on the Marsh," etc. + +STRUCK DOWN. A Novel. By HAWLEY SMART, author of "A Race +for a Wife," etc. + +THE MAURICE MYSTERY. A Novel. By J. ESTEN COOKE, +author of "The Virginia Comedians," etc. + +A NEMESIS; or, Tinted Vapors. A Novel. By J. MACLAREN +COBBAN, author of "The Cure of Souls." + +THE TINTED VENUS. A Farcical Romance. By F. ANSTEY, +author of "Vice Versa," "The Giant's Robe," etc. + +THE WITCH'S HEAD. A Novel. By H. R. HAGGARD. + +MATT: A Tale of a Caravan. By ROBERT BUCHANAN. + +ADDIE'S HUSBAND. A Novel. + +THE CRIME OF CHRISTMAS-DAY. A Tale of the +Latin Quarter. By the author of "My Ducats and my Daughter." + +DELDEE; or, The Iron Hand. A Novel. By the author of "The +House on the Marsh" and "At the World's Mercy." + +AT THE WORLD'S MERCY. A Novel. By the author of +"The House on the Marsh." + +THE HOUSE ON THE MARSH. A Romance. + +_12mo, paper covers. 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