ng on her for a while, and felt myself overcome
with horror as I contemplated the hideous spectacle of her body, and the
worse occupation of her soul. I wanted to bite her to see if she would
come to herself, but I could not find a spot on her whole body that did
not fill me with disgust. Nevertheless, I seized her by one heel, and
dragged her to the yard, without her ever giving any sign of feeling.
There seeing myself at large with the sky above me, my fear left me, or
at least abated, so much as to give me courage to await the result of
that wicked woman's expedition, and the news she was to bring me.
Meanwhile, I asked myself, how comes this old woman to be at once so
knowing and so wicked? How is it that she can so well distinguish
between casual and culpable evils? How is it that she understands and
speaks so much about God, and acts so much from the prompting of the
devil? How is it that she sins so much from choice, not having the
excuse of ignorance?

In these reflections I passed the night. The day dawned and found us
both in the court, she lying still insensible, and I on my haunches
beside her, attentively watching her hideous countenance. The people of
the hospital came out, and seeing this spectacle, some of them
exclaimed, "The pious Canizares is dead! See how emaciated she is with
fasting and penance." Others felt her pulse, and finding that she was
not dead, concluded that she was in a trance of holy ecstacy; whilst
others said, "This old hag is unquestionably a witch, and is no doubt
anointed, for saints are never seen in such an indecent condition when
they are lost in religious ecstacy; and among us who know her, she has
hitherto had the reputation of a witch rather than a saint." Some
curious inquirers went so far as to stick pins in her flesh up to the
head, yet without ever awaking her. It was not till seven o'clock that
she came to herself; and then finding how she was stuck over with pins,
bitten in the heels, and her back flayed by being dragged from her room,
and seeing so many eyes intently fixed upon her, she rightly concluded
that I had been the cause of her exposure. "What, you thankless,
ignorant, malicious villain," she cried, "is this my reward for the acts
I did for your mother and those I intended to do for you?" Finding
myself in peril of my life under the talons of that ferocious harpy, I
shook her off, and seizing her by her wrinkled flank, I worried and
dragged her all about the y