Tita! fill the senor commandant's
glass. Fray Gerundio, what are you whispering about down there, sir?"
Fray Gerundio had merely commented to his brother on the bishop's story
of Solomon's birds with an--
"O si sic omnia!--would that all gold would turn to feathers in like
wise!"
"Then, friend," replied the other, a Dominican, like Gerundio, but of a
darker and sterner complexion, "corrupt human nature would within a week
discover some fresh bauble, for which to kill and be killed in vain."
"What is that, Fray Gerundio?" asked the bishop again.
"I merely remarked, that it were well for the world if all mankind were
to put up the same prayer as the hoopoes."
"World, sir? What do you know about the world? Convert your Indians,
sir, if you please, and leave affairs of state to your superiors. You
will excuse him, senors" (turning to the Dons, and speaking in a lower
tone). "A very worthy and pious man, but a poor peasant's son; and
beside--you understand. A little wrong here; too much fasting and
watching, I fear, good man." And the bishop touched his forehead
knowingly, to signify that Fray Gerundio's wits were in an
unsatisfactory state.
The Fray heard and saw with a quiet smile. He was one of those excellent
men whom the cruelties of his countrymen had stirred up (as the
darkness, by mere contrast, makes the light more bright), as they did
Las Casas, Gasca, and many another noble name which is written in the
book of life, to deeds of love and pious daring worthy of any creed or
age.
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