"Vaya! He Is A
Big Man And A Fair Complexioned Like Myself.
I like him, and have
a horse that will just suit him; one that is the flower of Spain,
and is eight inches above the mark."
I then, with another bow, presented my passport to the alcalde,
who, with a gentle motion of his hand, appeared to decline taking
it, at the same time saying, "It is not necessary." "Oh, not at
all," exclaimed the surgeon. "The housekeepers of Villa Seca know
how to comport themselves with formality," observed the blacksmith.
"They would be very loth to harbour any suspicion against a
cavalier so courteous and well spoken." Knowing, however, that
this refusal amounted to nothing, and that it merely formed part of
a polite ceremonial, I proffered the passport a second time,
whereupon it was instantly taken, and in a moment the eyes of all
present were bent upon it with intense curiosity. It was examined
from top to bottom, and turned round repeatedly, and though it is
not probable that an individual present understood a word of it, it
being written in French, it gave nevertheless universal
satisfaction; and when the alcalde, carefully folding it up,
returned it to me, they all observed that they had never seen a
better passport in their lives, or one which spake in higher terms
of the bearer.
Who was it said that "Cervantes sneered Spain's chivalry away?" I
know not; and the author of such a line scarcely deserves to be
remembered.
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