A poor girl of noble birth who had entered religion and taken
her vows, when a gallant appears, meets her secretly in the convent
garden, promises to marry her if she will fly with him, indeed does go
through some mummery of marriage with her--so she says--and the rest
of it. Now he has deserted her and she is in trouble, and what is more,
should the priests catch her, likely to learn what it feels like to die
by inches in a convent wall. She came to me for counsel and brought some
silver ornaments as the fee. Here they are.'
'You took them!'
'Yes, I took them--I always take a fee, but I gave her back their weight
in gold. What is more, I told her where she might hide from the priests
till the hunt is done with. What I did not like to tell her is that her
lover is the greatest villain who ever trod the streets of Seville.
What was the good? She will see little more of him. Hist! here comes
the duchess--an astrological case this. Where are the horoscope and the
wand, yes, and the crystal ball? There, shade the lamps, give me the
book, and vanish.'
I obeyed, and presently met the great lady, a stout woman attended by
a duenna, gliding fearfully through the darkened archways to learn the
answer of the stars and pay many good pesos for it, and the sight of her
made me laugh so much that I forgot quickly about the other lady and her
woes.
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