ur
Lady del Pilar. I have seen processions going along the streets in which
wooden statues of gigantic proportions were carried. I was taken to the
best assemblies, where the monks swarmed. I was introduced to a lady of
monstrous size, who, I was informed, was cousin to the famous Palafox,
and I did not feel my bosom swell with pride as was evidently expected. I
also made the acquaintance of Canon Pignatelli, a man of Italian origin.
He was President of the Inquisition, and every morning he imprisoned the
procuress who had furnished him with the girl with whom he had supped and
slept. He would wake up in the morning tired out with the pleasures of
the night; the girl would be driven away and the procuress imprisoned. He
then dressed, confessed, said mass, and after an excellent breakfast with
plenty of good wine he would send out for another girl, and this would go
on day after day. Nevertheless, he was held in great respect at
Saragossa, for he was a monk, a canon, and an Inquisitor.

The bull fights were finer at Saragossa than at Madrid--that is to say,
they were deadlier; and the chief interest of this barbarous spectacle
lies in the shedding of blood. The Marquis de las Moras and Colonel Royas
gave me some excellent dinners. The marquis was one of the pleasantest
men I met in Spain; he died very young two years after.

The Church of Nuestra Senora del Pilar is situated on the ramparts of the
town, and the Aragonese fondly believe this portion of the town defences
to be impregnable.

I had promised Donna Pelliccia to go and see her at Valentia, and on my
way I saw the ancient town of Saguntum on a hill at some little distance.
There was a priest travelling with me and I told him and the driver (who
preferred his mules to all the antiquities in the world) that I should
like to go and see the town. How the muleteer and the priest objected to
this proposal!

"There are only ruins there, senor."

"That's just what I want to see."

"We shall never get to Valentia to-night."

"Here's a crown; we shall get there to-morrow."

The crown settled everything, and the man exclaimed,

"Valga me Dios, es un hombre de buen!" (So help me God, this is an honest
man!) A subject of his Catholic majesty knows no heartier praise than
this.

I saw the massive walls still standing and in good condition, and yet
they were built during the second Punic War. I saw on two of the gateways
inscriptions which to me were meaningless, b