The simplicity of the housekeeper made the licentiate laugh, andhe directed the barber to give him the books one by one to see whatthey were about, as there might be some to be found among them thatdid not deserve the penalty of fire.
"No," said the niece, "there is no reason for showing mercy to anyof them; they have every one of them done mischief; better flingthem out of the window into the court and make a pile of them andset fire to them; or else carry them into the yard, and there abonfire can be made without the smoke giving any annoyance." Thehousekeeper said the same, so eager were they both for the slaughterof those innocents, but the curate would not agree to it without firstreading at any rate the titles.
The first that Master Nicholas put into his hand was "The four booksof Amadis of Gaul." "This seems a mysterious thing," said thecurate, "for, as I have heard say, this was the first book of chivalryprinted in Spain, and from this all the others derive their birthand origin; so it seems to me that we ought inexorably to condemn itto the flames as the founder of so vile a sect."
"Nay, sir," said the barber, "I too, have heard say that this is thebest of all the books of this kind that have been written, and so,as something singular in its line, it ought to be pardoned."
"True," said the curate; "and for that reason let its life be sparedfor the present. Let us see that other which is next to it."
"It is," said the barber, "the 'Sergas de Esplandian,' the lawfulson of Amadis of Gaul."
"Then verily," said the curate, "the merit of the father must not beput down to the account of the son. Take it, mistress housekeeper;open the window and fling it into the yard and lay the foundation ofthe pile for the bonfire we are to make."
The housekeeper obeyed with great satisfaction, and the worthy"Esplandian" went flying into the yard to await with all patiencethe fire that was in store for him.
"Proceed," said the curate.
"This that comes next," said the barber, "is 'Amadis of Greece,'and, indeed, I believe all those on this side are of the same Amadislineage."
"Then to the yard with the whole of them," said the curate; "forto have the burning of Queen Pintiquiniestra, and the shepherd Darineland his eclogues, and the bedevilled and involved discourses of hisauthor, I would burn with them the father who begot me if he weregoing about in the guise of a knight-errant."
"I am of the same mind," said the barber.
"And so am I," added the niece.
"In that case," said the housekeeper, "here, into the yard withthem!"
They were handed to her, and as there were many of them, shespared herself the staircase, and flung them down out of the window.
"Who is that tub there?" said the curate.
"This," said the barber, "is 'Don Olivante de Laura.'"
"The author of that book," said the curate, "was the same that wrote'The Garden of Flowers,' and truly there is no deciding which of thetwo books is the more truthful, or, to put it better, the lesslying; all I can say is, send this one into the yard for aswaggering fool."
"This that follows is 'Florismarte of Hircania,'" said the barber.
"Senor Florismarte here?" said the curate; "then by my faith he musttake up his quarters in the yard, in spite of his marvellous birth andvisionary adventures, for the stiffness and dryness of his styledeserve nothing else; into the yard with him and the other, mistresshousekeeper."
"With all my heart, senor," said she, and executed the order withgreat delight.
"This," said the barber, "is The Knight Platir.'"
"An old book that," said the curate, "but I find no reason forclemency in it; send it after the others without appeal;" which wasdone.
Another book was opened, and they saw it was entitled, "The Knightof the Cross."
"For the sake of the holy name this book has," said the curate, "itsignorance might be excused; but then, they say, 'behind the crossthere's the devil; to the fire with it."
Taking down another book, the barber said, "This is 'The Mirror ofChivalry.'"
"I know his worship," said the curate; "that is where SenorReinaldos of Montalvan figures with his friends and comrades,greater thieves than Cacus, and the Twelve Peers of France with theveracious historian Turpin; however, I am not for condemning them tomore than perpetual banishment, because, at any rate, they have someshare in the invention of the famous Matteo Boiardo, whence too theChristian poet Ludovico Ariosto wove his web, to whom, if I find himhere, and speaking any language but his own, I shall show no respectwhatever; but if he speaks his own tongue I will put him upon myhead."
"Well, I have him in Italian," said the barber, "but I do notunderstand him."
"Nor would it be well that you should understand him," said thecurate, "and on that score we might have excused the Captain if he hadnot brought him into Spain and turned him into Castilian. He robbedhim of a great deal of his natural force, and so do all those whotry to turn books written in verse into another language, for, withall the pains they take and all the cleverness they show, they nevercan reach the level of the originals as they were first produced. Inshort, I say that this book, and all that may be found treating ofthose French affairs, should be thrown into or deposited in some drywell, until after more consideration it is settled what is to bedone with them; excepting always one 'Bernardo del Carpio' that isgoing about, and another called 'Roncesvalles;' for these, if theycome into my hands, shall pass at once into those of thehousekeeper, and from hers into the fire without any reprieve."
To all this the barber gave his assent, and looked upon it asright and proper, being persuaded that the curate was so staunch tothe Faith and loyal to the Truth that he would not for the world sayanything opposed to them. Opening another book he saw it was "Palmerinde Oliva," and beside it was another called "Palmerin of England,"seeing which the licentiate said, "Let the Olive be made firewood ofat once and burned until no ashes even are left; and let that Palmof England be kept and preserved as a thing that stands alone, and letsuch another case be made for it as that which Alexander found amongthe spoils of Darius and set aside for the safe keeping of the worksof the poet Homer. This book, gossip, is of authority for two reasons,first because it is very good, and secondly because it is said to havebeen written by a wise and witty king of Portugal. All theadventures at the Castle of Miraguarda are excellent and ofadmirable contrivance, and the language is polished and clear,studying and observing the style befitting the speaker withpropriety and judgment. So then, provided it seems good to you, MasterNicholas, I say let this and 'Amadis of Gaul' be remitted thepenalty of fire, and as for all the rest, let them perish withoutfurther question or query."
"Nay, gossip," said the barber, "for this that I have here is thefamous 'Don Belianis.'"
"Well," said the curate, "that and the second, third, and fourthparts all stand in need of a little rhubarb to purge their excess ofbile, and they must be cleared of all that stuff about the Castle ofFame and other greater affectations, to which end let them beallowed the over-seas term, and, according as they mend, so shallmercy or justice be meted out to them; and in the mean time, gossip,do you keep them in your house and let no one read them."
"With all my heart," said the barber; and not caring to tire himselfwith reading more books of chivalry, he told the housekeeper to takeall the big ones and throw them into the yard. It was not said toone dull or deaf, but to one who enjoyed burning them more thanweaving the broadest and finest web that could be; and seizing abouteight at a time, she flung them out of the window.
In carrying so many together she let one fall at the feet of thebarber, who took it up, curious to know whose it was, and found itsaid, "History of the Famous Knight, Tirante el Blanco."
"God bless me!" said the curate with a shout, "'Tirante el Blanco'here! Hand it over, gossip, for in it I reckon I have found a treasuryof enjoyment and a mine of recreation. Here is Don Kyrieleison ofMontalvan, a valiant knight, and his brother Thomas of Montalvan,and the knight Fonseca, with the battle the bold Tirante fought withthe mastiff, and the witticisms of the damsel Placerdemivida, andthe loves and wiles of the widow Reposada, and the empress in lovewith the squire Hipolito- in truth, gossip, by right of its style itis the best book in the world. Here knights eat and sleep, and diein their beds, and make their wills before dying, and a great dealmore of which there is nothing in all the other books. Nevertheless, Isay he who wrote it, for deliberately composing such fooleries,deserves to be sent to the galleys for life. Take it home with you andread it, and you will see that what I have said is true."
"As you will," said the barber; "but what are we to do with theselittle books that are left?"
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