by Lew Wallace
CHAPTER IV.
ENNUYE IN THE OLD PALACE.
"Father, holy father!--and by my sword, as belted knight, Olmedo, I callthee so in love and honor,--I have heard thee talk in learned phraseabout the saints, and quote the sayings of monks, mere makers of books,which I will swear are for the most part dust, or, at least, not half sowell preserved as the bones of their scribblers,--I say I have thusheard thee talk and quote for hours at a time, until I have come tothink thy store of knowledge is but jargon of that kind. Shake thy head!Jargon, I say a second time."
"It is knowledge that leadeth to righteousness. _Bien quisto!_ Thouwouldst do well to study it," replied the padre, curtly.
A mocking smile curled the red-haired lip of the cavalier. "Knowledgetruly! I recollect hearing the Senor Hernan once speak of thee. He saidthou wert to him a magazine, full of learning precious as breadstuffs."
"Right, my son! Breadstuffs for the souls of sinners irreverent as--"
"Out with it!"
"As thou."
"_Picaro!_ Only last night thou didst absolve me, and, by the Palmerins,I have just told my beads!"
"I think I have heard of the Palmerins," said the priest, gravely;"indeed, I am certain of it; but I never heard of them as things toswear by before. Hast thou a license as coiner of oaths?"
"_Cierto_, father, thou dost remind me of my first purpose; which was totest thy knowledge of matters, both ancient and serious, outside of whatthou callest the sermons of the schoolmen. And I will not take thee atdisadvantage. O no! If I would play fairly with the vilest heathen, andslay him with none but an honest trick of the sword, surely I cannotless with thee."
"Slay me!"
"That will I,--in a bout at dialectics. I will be fair, I say. I willbegin by taking thee in a field which every knight hath traversed, if,perchance, he hath advanced so far in clerkliness as to read,--a fielddivided between heralds, troubadours, and poets, and not forbidden tomonks; with which thou shouldst be well acquainted, seeing that, of latedays at least, thou hast been more prone to knightly than saintlyassociation!"
"Santa Maria!" said Olmedo, crossing himself. "It is our nature to beprone to things sinful."
"I smell the cloister in thy words. Have at thee! Stay thy steps."
The two had been pacing the roof of the palace during the foregoingpassage. Both stopped now, and Alvarado said, "Firstly,--nay, I willnone of that; numbering the heads of a discourse is a priestly trick. Tobegin, by my conscience!--ho, father, that oath offends thee not, for itis the Senor Hernan's, and by him thou art thyself always ready toswear."
"If thou wouldst not get lost in a confusion of ideas, to thy purposequickly."
"Thank thee. Who was Amadis de Gaul?"
"Hero of the oldest Spanish poem."
"Right!" said the knight, stroking his beard. "And who was Oriana?"
"Heroine of the same story; more particularly, daughter of Lisuarte,King of England."
"Thou didst reprove me for swearing by the Palmerins; who were they?"
"Famous knights, who founded chivalry by going about slaying dragons,working charities, and overthrowing armies of heathen, for the Mother'ssake."
"Excellently answered, by my troth! I will have to lead thee into deeperwater. Pass we the stories of Ruy Diaz, and Del Carpio, and Pelayo. Iwill even grant that thou hast heard of Hernan Gonzales; but canst thoutell in how many ballads his prowess hath been sung?"
Olmedo was silent.
"Already!" cried Alvarado, exultant. "Already! By the cross on my sword,I have heard of thirty. But to proceed. Omitting Roland, andRoncesvalles, and the brethren of the Round Table, canst thou tell me ofthe Seven Lords of Lares?"
"No. But there is a Lord of whom I can tell thee, and of whom it will befar more profitable for thee to inquire."
"I knew a minstrel--a rare fellow--who had a wondrous voice and memory,and who sang fifteen songs all about the Lords of Lares; and he told methere were as many more. O, for the time of the true chivalry, when ourSpanish people were song-lovers, and honor was of higher esteem thangold! In one respect, Olmedo, I am more Moslem than Christian."
The padre crossed himself.
"Mahomet--so saith history--taught his warriors that Paradise lieth inthe shade of crossing scimitars,--as unlike thy doctrine as a stone isunlike a plum. _Picaro!_ It pleaseth me; it hardeneth the heart andgrip; it is more inspiring than clarions and drums."
Olmedo looked into the blue eyes of the knight, now unusually bright,and said, "Thou didst jest at my knowledge; now I ask thee, son, is itnot better to have a mind full of saintly lore than one which nothingholds but swords and lances and high-bred steeds? What dost thou knowbut war?"
"The taste of good wine," said Alvarado, seriously; "and by Sta. Agnes,holy father, I would I had my canteen full; the smoke from these dens isturning me into a Dutch sausage. Look to the towers of yon temple,--thegreat one just before us. How the clouds ascending from them poison themorning air! When my sword is at the throats of the fire-keepers, Heavenhelp me to slay them!"
Alvarado then took the tassels of the cord around the good man's waist,and pulled him forward. "Come briskly, father! This roof is all thefield left us for exercise; and much do I fear that we will dream manytimes of green meadows before we see them again." Half dragging him, theknight lengthened his strides. "Step longer, father! Thou dost mince thepace, like a woman."
"Hands off, irreverent!" cried the padre, holding back. "My feet are notiron-shod, like thine."
"What! Didst thou not climb the mountains on the way hither barefooted?And dost now growl at these tiles? Last night Sandoval shod his mare,the gay Motilla, with silver, which he swore was cheaper, if not better,than iron. When next we take a morning trot, like this, _cierto_, I willborrow two of the precious shoes for thee."
Olmedo's gown, of coarse, black woollen serge, was not a garment aGreek, preparing for a race, would have chosen; the long skirts hamperedhis legs; he stumbled, and would have fallen, but for his tormentor.
"Stay thee, father! Hast been drinking? Not here shouldst thou kneelunless in prayer; and for that, bethink thee, house-tops are for nonebut Jews." And the rough knight laughed heartily. "Nay, talking willtire thee," he continued. "Take breath first. If my shield were at hand,I would fan thee. Or wouldst thou prefer to sit? or better still, to liedown? Do so, if thou wouldst truly oblige me; for, by my conscience, asCortes sweareth, I have not done testing thy knowledge of worthy thingsoutside the convent libraries. I will take thee into a new field, andask of the Moorish lays; for, as thou shouldst know, if thou dost not,they have had their minstrels and heroes as fanciful and valiant asinfidels ever were; in truth, but little inferior to the best of oldCastile."
Olmedo attempted to speak.
"Open not thy mouth, father, except to breathe. I will talk until thytire is over. I was on the Moors. A fine race they were, bating alwaystheir religion. Of their songs, thou hast probably heard that mournfulroundelay, the Loves of Gazul and Abindarraez; probably listened toTales of the Arabian Nights, or to verses celebrating the tournaments inthe Bivarrambla. Certainly, thou hast heard recitals of the rencontres,scimitar in hand, between the Zegris and Abencerrages. By Sta. Agnes!they have had warriors fit for the noblest songs. At least, father, thouknowest--" He stopped abruptly, while a lad mounted the roof andapproached them, cap in hand.
"Excellent Senor, so it please thee, my master hath somewhat to say tothee in his chamber below. And"--crossing himself to Olmedo--"if theholy father will remember me in his next prayer, I will tell him thatBernal Diaz is looking for him."
"Doth thy master want me also?"
"That is Diaz's massage."
"What can be in the wind now?" asked Alvarado, musingly.
"Hadst thou asked me that question--"
"Couldst thou have answered? Take the chance! What doth thy masterintend?"
"Look, Don Pedro, and thou, good father," replied the page; "look to thetop of yon pile
so ridiculously called a temple of--"
"Speak it, as thou lovest me," cried Alvarado.
"Wilt thou pronounce it after me?"
"That will I; though, _cierto_, I will not promise my horse if I fail."
"_Huitzilpotchli_," said the boy, slowly.
"The saints defend us!" exclaimed the knight, crossing himself. "Wheredidst thou get so foul a name?"
"Of the Dona Marina. Well, the Senor Hernan, my master, designethvisiting those towers, and seeing what horrors they hold."
Olmedo's countenance became unusually grave. "Holy Mother, keep histemper in check, that nothing rash be done!"
Alvarado received the news differently. "Thou art a good boy,Orteguilla," he said. "I owe thee a ducat. Remind me of the debt whennext thou seest me with gold. _Espiritu Santo!_ Now will I take the rustout of my knees, and the dull out of my head, and the spite from mystomach! Now will I give my sword, that hath hungered so long, tosurfeit on the heart-eaters! _Bien Quisto!_ What jargon didst thou use amoment ago when speaking of the temple?"
"_Huitzilpotchli_," said the boy, laughing.
"Murrain take the idol, if only for his name's sake! Come; we shall havea good time."
The knight turned to descend. Orteguilla caught him by the mantle. "Aword, Don Pedro."
"_Picaro!_ A thousand of them, quickly!"
"Thou didst promise me a ducat--"
"Truly, and thou shalt have it. Only wait till the division cometh, andthy master saith to me, 'Take thy share.'"
"Thou hearest, father?"
"How! Dost doubt me?"
The boy stepped back. "No. Alvarado's promise is good against the world.But dost thou not think the Senor Hernan will attack the temple?"
"_Cierto_, with horse, foot, guns, Tlascalans, and all."
"He goeth merely on a visit, and by invitation of Montezuma, the king."
Olmedo's face relaxed, and he rubbed his hands; but the captain said,dismally, "By invitation! _Picaro!_ Instead of the ducat, that for thynews!" And he struck open-handedly at the page, but with such good-willthat the latter gave him wide margin the rest of the day.