“No
attempted
kissing, you know, or silly nonsense of any
kind.
kind.
Warner - World's Best Literature - v26 - Tur to Wat
With a quick movement she shook it off,
and stood free.
“You shall see that I mean it,” she said: “I have almost
nothing on. I had prepared myself already. ”
In truth the next moment she took off, or rather tore off, a
skirt, and remained only in her chemise.
She stood so an instant; cast a glance at the implement of
torture in Genoveva's hand; and over her body ran a little shiver,
compounded of cold, pleasure, anguish, affright, and anxious ex-
pectation, all in one. In a low voice, changed from its usual
tones by emotion, she appealed:-
" Papa must not know of this. ”
1
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## p. 15208 (#152) ##########################################
15208
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
And the light stuff of the chemise slipped down along her
body, caught for an instant on the hips, then sank slowly to the
floor. She remained nude. Genoveva contemplated her with
eyes that could not withhold admiration as well as reverence, and
the girl felt herself a little abashed.
“You are not going to be angry with me, Genoveva dear,
are you? ”
The waiting-maid could only say, “For God's sake, señor-
ita! »
“The sooner the better, now, for I shall take cold. ”
By this consideration she wished to constrain the woman
still more forcibly to the task. With a feverish movement she
snatched the scourge from her left hand and put it in her right;
then throwing her arms again around her neck, and kissing her,
she said, very low and affecting a jocose tone:-
“ You are to lay it on hard, Genovita; for thus I have prom-
ised God that it should be done. "
A violent trembling possessed her body as she uttered these
words: but it was a delicious kind of trembling that penetrated
to the very marrow of her bones. Then taking Genoveva by the
hand, she pulled her along a little towards the table on which
stood the effigy of the Savior.
“It must be here, on my knees before our Lord. ”
Her voice choked up in her throat. She was pale.
She
bowed humbly before the image; made the sign of the cross
rapidly; crossed her hands over her virginal breast; and turning
her face, sweetly smiling, towards her maid, said, “Now you can
begin. "
“Señorita, for God's sake! ” once more exclaimed Genoveva,
»
overwhelmed with confusion.
From the eyes of the señorita flashed a gleam of anger, which
died away on the instant; but she said in a tone of some slight
irritation, “Have we agreed upon this or not? Obey me, and do
not be obstinate. ”
The maid, dominated by authority, and convinced too that
she was furthering a work of piety, now at length obeyed, and
began to ply the scourge, but very gently, on the naked shoulders
of her young mistress.
The first blows were so soft and inoffensive that they left
no trace at all on that precious skin. Maria grew irritable, and
demanded that they be more forcibly given.
.
## p. 15209 (#153) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15209
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11
it
1
“No, not like that; harder! harder! ” she insisted. « But first
wait a moment till I take off this jewelry: it is ridiculous at
such a time. ”
And she swiftly pulled off the rings from her fingers, snatched
the pendants from her ears, and then laid the handful of gold
and gems at the foot of the effigy of Jesus. In like manner
St. Isabel, when she went to pray in the church, was used to
deposit her ducal coronet on the altar.
She resumed the same humble posture; and Genoveva, seeing
that there was no escape, began to lacerate the flesh of her pious
mistress without mercy. The lamplight shed a soft radiance
throughout the room. The gems lying at the feet of the Savior
alone caught it sharply, and Aung out a play of subtle gleams
and scintillations. The silence at that hour was absolute; not
even the sighing of a breath of wind in the casements was heard.
An atmosphere of mystery and unworldly seclusion filled the
room, which transported Maria out of herself, and intoxicated
her with pleasure. Her lovely naked body quivered each time
that the curling strokes of the lash fell upon it, with a pain
not free from voluptuous delight. She laid her head against the
Redeemer's feet, breathing eagerly, and with a sense of oppres-
sion; and she felt the blood beating with singular violence in her
temples, while the delicate fluff of hair growing at the nape of
the neck rose slightly with the magnetism of the extreme emo-
tion that possessed her. From time to time her pale, trembling
lips would murmur, Go on! go on! ”
The scourge had raised not a few stripes of roseate hue on
her snowy white skin, and she did not ask for truce. But the
instant came when the implement of torture drew a drop of
blood. Genoveva could not contain herself longer; she threw
the barbarous scourge far from her, and weeping aloud, caught
the señorita in her arms, covered her with affectionate kisses, and
begged her by her soul's sake never to make her recommence
the perpetration of such atrocities. Maria tried to console her,
assuring her that the whipping had hurt her very little. And
now, her ardor a little cooled, her ascetic impulses somewhat
appeased, the young mistress dismissed her servant, and went
to her bedroom to retire to rest.
1
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## p. 15210 (#154) ##########################################
15210
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
A FRIENDLY ARGUMENT IN THE CAFÉ DE LA MARINA
From (El Cuarto Poder)
"
W"
HEN Don Melchior and his nephew entered the café, Gabino
Maza, on his feet, was gesticulating actively in the midst ·
of a little circle. He could not keep his seat two minutes
at a time. His excitable temperament, and the eagerness with
which he undertook to convince his audience, brought it about
that he would continually spring from his seat and dash into the
middle of the floor; and there he would shout and swing his
arms about till he had to stop for very want of strength and
breath. The subject of discussion was the opera company, which
had announced its approaching departure on account of having
lost money, in its subscription season of thirty performances.
Maza was arguing that the company had met with no such losses,
but that on the contrary the whole thing was a pretext and a
trick.
“I deny it, I deny it,” he vociferated. “Anybody who says
they have lost a farthing is a liar. — How are you, Gonzalo ? ”
to the younger man of the new arrivals: how's your health ? I
heard yesterday you were back. You're looking first-rate. — He's
a liar," he resumed, at the same pitch of violence. "I repeat it,
and I wager none of them would have the face to come to me
with that yarn. "
"According to the figures the baritone showed me, they have
lost thirty thousand reals ($1,500] in the thirty performances,”
said his friend Don Mateo.
Maza all but ground his teeth; indignation scarcely let him
speak.
"And
you
attach any
credit to what that toper says, Don
Mateo ? ” he managed to get out. Come, see
here now,”
with affected scorn, - "by dint of associating with actors, you'll
be forgetting your own occupation soon, like the smith they tell
about in the story. ”
“Listen, you madcap: I have not said I believed him, have I?
All I say is that that is the way it figures out, from what the
baritone told me. ”
Maza, who had approached quite near, now sprang violently
backward again, took up a position anew in the middle of the
## p. 15211 (#155) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
152FI
0
1
1
!
TE
>
-
(
1
room, snatched off his hat, and holding it in both hands to ges-
ticulate with, vociferated frantically:-
“Stop there! stop there! don't go a step further. Do they
take us for a lot of simple fedgelings just out of the nest ? Now
listen to me. Just tell me what they have done with the twenty
thousand and odd reals the subscription brought them, and the
nearly equal amount they must have taken in at the box-office. ”
“Well, for one thing, they have to pay very high salaries. ”
« Don't be a donkey, Álvaro; for the Holy Virgin's sake, try
and not be a donkey. I'll tell you exactly what salaries they
pay. The tenor - checking off on his fingers — «six dollars a
day; the soprano six more, - that makes twelve; the bass, four-
-
sixteen; the contralto, three — nineteen; the baritone, four - »
The baritone, five,” corrected Peña.
“The baritone, four," insisted Maza with fury.
"I am certain it is five. ”
« The baritone, four,” shouted Maza anew.
Upon this, Álvaro Peña arose in his turn, raising his voice
too, and, burning with a noble desire for victory, undertook to
convince or shout down his opponent. There began a wild,
deafening dispute, which lasted about an hour, in which all or
nearly all the members of that illustrious band of the regular
frequenters of the café took part. It bore a close resemblance
to the famous discussions of the Greeks without the walls of
Troy; there were the same sound and fury, the same primitive
simplicity in the arguments, the same undisguised and barbaric
directness in the statements and the epithets employed. Such
choice examples as this, for instance:-
“Could any man be more of an ass ? ) «Shut up, shut up,
you blockhead! ” – The ox opened his mouth, and what he said
was, 'moo-o. ) » — "I tell you, you are not within mile of the
truth; or if you want to hear it plainer, you lie. ” — “Great heav-
ens, what a goose-hissing! ” — “Any one would think you were a
cackling old woman. ”
Such altercations were of frequent, almost daily, occurrence
in that room of the café. As everybody taking part in them had
a direct, entirely primitive way of treating questions, like to or
identical with that of the heroes of Homer, the very positions
laid down at the beginning of the dispute always continued un-
changed to the end. Such or such a man would go through
the entire hour reiterating without pause, “No one has any right
1.
1
1
1
林
ha
1
!
1
## p. 15212 (#156) ##########################################
15*12
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
to interfere in the private life of others;” another would cry,
“That might happen in Germany, if you please, but here we are
in Spain. ” A third was yet more brief, and would vociferate
whenever he got the least opening, and whether he got it or not,
“Moonshine! moonshine! stuff and nonsense ! » Thus he would
cry till he dropped half lifeless on a divan.
These arguments gained in intensity what they lost in breadth;
the statements were each time repeated with greater and more
devastating energy, and more strident voices, so that the day was
rare that some of the speakers did not depart from there with
his throat in such a state of hoarseness that he could scarcely be
heard. It was generally Álvaro Peña and Don Feliciano who
were found in that condition, - not because they really talked
the most, but because they had the weakest vocal organs.
If
the Town Council had directed the planting of trees on the
Riego Promenade — heated discussion in the café. If a trusted
employee of the house of Gonzalez & Sons had decamped with
fourteen thousand reals -discussion at the café. If the parish
priest refused to give the pilot Velasco a certificate of good
moral character — discussion at the café. Álvaro Peña took such a
lively part in this one that he burst a small blood-vessel.
No unpleasant feelings were ever left after them, nor was
it on record that any of them had ever resulted in a fight or a
duel. All seemed to have tacitly agreed to accept, as they be-
stowed, abusive epithets as above mentioned, and take no offense
at them.
VENTURITA WINS AWAY HER SISTER'S LOVER
From (El Cuarto Poder)
G
ONZALO, after a little chat with his betrothed, arose, took a
few turns up and down the long room, and went and sat
down beside Venturita. The young girl was drawing some
letters for embroidering.
"Don't make fun of them, Gonzalo: you know I draw badly,”
said she, her eyes flashing at him a brilliant, archly provoking
glance that made him lower his own.
"I do not admit that: you do not draw badly at all," he
responded, in a low voice that was slightly tremulous.
((
»
## p. 15213 (#157) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15213
>>
IE
you. ”
12
«How polite!
You will admit that my drawing might be
better, at any rate. ”
“Better? better? - everything in this world might be better.
-
It is very good, I assure you. ”
«What a flatterer you're getting to be. But I won't have you
laughing at me, do you hear? You need not try it. ”
«I am not in the habit of laughing at folks — least of all at
He did not raise his eyes from the drawing-paper in her
lap, and his voice was yet lower and more unsteady.
Venturita's bewitching glance dwelt steadily upon him, and
there might be read in it the sense of triumph and gratified
pride.
"Here, you draw the letters yourself, Mr. Engineer,” she
said reaching the paper and pencil towards him with a charmingly
despotic manner.
The young man took them; lifted his gaze for an instant
to hers, but dropped it again, as if he feared an electric shock;
and began to draw. But instead of ornamental letters, it was a
woman's likeness that he depicted. First the hair ending in two
braids down her back, then the low charming forehead, then
a dainty nose, then a little mouth, then the admirably modeled
chin melting into the neck with soft and graceful curves. It
grew prodigiously like Venturita. While the girl, leaning close up
against the shoulder of her future brother-in-law, followed the
movements of the pencil, a smile of gratified vanity spread little
by little over her face.
When the portrait was finished,
she said in a roguish way, “Now put underneath it whom it is
meant to represent. ”
The draughtsman now raised his head, and the smiling glances
of the two met, as if with a shower of sparks. Then with a
swift, decisive movement, he wrote below the sketch:-
11
hi
It
«WHAT I LOVE DEAREST IN ALL THE WORLD »
1
(
Venturita took possession of the piece of paper, and gazed
at it a little while with delight; but next, feigning a disdainful
mien, she thrust it back towards him, saying, “Here, take it,
take it, humbug. I don't want it. ”
But before it could reach the hand of Gonzalo, his intended
playfully reached out hers and intercepted it, saying, “What mys-
terious papers are these ? ”
## p. 15214 (#158) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15214
Venturita, as if she had been pricked with a sharp weapon,
sprang from her chair and forcibly grasped her sister's wrist.
“Give it to me, Cecilia! give it back! let it go,” she ex-
claimed; her countenance darting fire, though she tried to impose
upon it a forced smile.
[The amiable Cecilia yields it up. Venturita tears it in pieces. All are
astonished at her violence. Her mother orders her from the room, and la-
ments the waywardness of this younger daughter. Somewhat later Gonzalo,
sad and downcast, is about to leave the house. As he extends his hand to
the door, he notes that the cord that draws the latch is gently agitated from
above. ]
»
(
He stood a moment immovable. Again he reached towards
the latch, and again the mysterious motion from above was re-
peated. He went back and glanced up the staircase: from the
top landing a pretty blonde head smiled down at him.
"Do
you want me to go up ? ” he asked.
"No," she replied, but with an intonation that clearly meant,
“yes. ”
He immediately mounted the stairs on tiptoe.
“We can't stay here,” said Venturita: “they may see us.
Come along with me. ” And taking him by the hand, she led
him through the corridors to the dining-room.
Gonzalo dropped into a chair, but without loosing her hand.
“Why has my mother got to mortify me at every instant, and
before company ? ” she exclaimed. “If she thinks I will stand
it she is very much mistaken. There is no consideration in this
house except for that scapegrace brother of mine. ”
“Sweetheart, sweetheart, don't fly out at me.
precisely because you have a will and a temper of your own. I
have no fancy for women made of flour and water. ”
“I guess it's because you are one of that stuff yourself. ”
“Not so much as you may think. ”
"I can never imagine your getting angry with anybody. ”
“Oh, very well; if I am of that sort then it is very proper
that I should like amiable and tranquil women. ”
“Not at all, not at all,” she exclaimed, suddenly changing her
ground. « The blonde complexion likes the brunette, the fat the
thin, and the tall the short. Confess now, isn't it because I am
so little, and you so tall, that I please you?
“Yes, but by no means for that alone,” he said, laughing and
pulling her nearer to him.
I like you
(
((
## p. 15215 (#159) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15215
1
((
10
10
11
.
»
-
C
“For what else ? ) with one of her siren looks.
“Because you are so — homely. ”
-
“Thanks,” she replied, her whole fair countenance illuminated
with vanity.
"I suppose there is not a homelier one than you in Sarrió, or
in the entire world. ”
Still, you must have seen some homelier than I in your
travels abroad? The Virgin save us! what a monster of ugliness
I must be. ” And she laughed with all her heart at the flattery
contained in his reversed hyperboles.
“We are not — comfortable here,” said the young man nerv-
ously. “Some one might enter, or — even Cecilia. And what
excuse could I give ? ”
«No matter what excuse: that is the least thing to consider.
But if you are uneasy, we can go back to the drawing-room. ”
“Yes, let us go.
“Wait here an instant: I will go and see how the land lies. ”
But then, stopping at the door with a new idea that just entered
her head, she turned back and said, "If you would promise to be
very proper and formal, I would take you to my room. ”
« Word of honor,” he promised eagerly.
“No attempted kissing, you know, or silly nonsense of any
kind. ”
« Not a bit. ”
“You swear it ? »
“I do. ”
« Then stay here a little, and come up after me on the tips of
your toes. Good-by for about two minutes. ”
He took her hand at this brief parting, and kissed it.
“There, you see, you break your promise even before we
begin," she complained, affecting displeasure.
“But I didn't think that hands counted. ”
"Everything counts,” she retorted severely, but her eyes still
smiled at him.
(
»
(
1
— а
[The young girl's room is described, - a marvel of daintiness, luxury, and
good taste, personal to herself. Gonzalo exclaims:-)
« Oh, how much better this is than Cecilia's room ! »
« You have seen hers ? »
## p. 15216 (#160) ##########################################
15216
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
(
“Yes: a few days ago she showed it to me, with its bare
walls, poor pictures, bed without draperies, and most common-
place bureau. ”
"Be good enough to sit down: you have grown tall enough. ”
“You did wrong to let me come up here,” he said.
«Why? what do you mean? ” and she affected surprise, open-
ing and shutting her bright eyes many times in succession, so
that the effect was like that play of heat-lightning that is observed
in the warm evenings of summer.
“Because I feel that I am ill. ”
« “You are ill? truly ? ” And now she opened her blue eyes
widely; without, for all that, succeeding in giving them an inno-
cent look.
"Yes, that is-yes, a little. ”
“Do you want me to call assistance ? »
“That would do no good, as it is your eyes that are making
all the trouble. ”
Oh, then I will shut them up,” she said, laughing merrily,
«Don't shut them up, don't shut them up, I beg of you. If
you do, I shall be infinitely worse. ”
«I see it is best, in that case, that I should go away. ”
"And that would simply be to have my death at your door.
Do you know why I think I am taken so ill ? Because, I sup-
I
pose, I cannot kiss down the lovely eyelids above those eyes that
stab me through the heart. ”
“Oh, indeed ? how badly off you are! ” she rejoined, mocking
him with the gayest laughter. "Well, I am sorry I cannot cure
“
(
you. ”
»
“Then you will allow me to die ? »
“Certainly, if you wish to. ”
But you will first let me imprint a kiss upon your delightful
hair, at least?
No indeed. ”
Your hands, then? ”
2
“No, not my hands either. ”
"Nothing of your belongings ? Oh, see how you make me
suffer, what fatal harm you are doing me. ”
“Here is a glove you may kiss, if you want to,” and she
tossed him one of her own that lay upon the dressing-table.
He pressed it to his lips repeatedly, with glowing ardor.
((
»
## p. 15217 (#161) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15217
Disloyal, weak, a repellent character, as the critics like to say
of the personages in novels who are not monumentally heroic and
gifted with all the talents. But suppose the reader himself to be
placed in that position, face to face with the younger Señorita
Belinchon, receiving the meteor-like glances of her blue eyes,
and hearkening to a voice with both grave and honeyed inflections
that moved the very fibres of the soul, and suppose she should
toss him a glove of hers to kiss,- I should very much like to
hear in what severe terms he would decline the honor.
«Now let us speak seriously [said Venturita]; let us talk of
our situation. In spite of what you promised me three days
ago, I have not heard that you have yet spoken with mama or
papa, or even written to them. Quite the contrary, in fact: not
only you let the time pass, while every day makes things worse,
but you seem to show yourself even more devoted to Cecilia than
before. ”
Gonzalo denied this with a shake of the head.
« But I have seen you. If you do not love her, this conduct
towards her is very bad; and if you do love her, then your con-
duct towards me is infamous. ”
"Are you not yet sure that my heart is yours alone ? ” he
asked, his impassioned glance fixed upon her face.
«No. "
“Yes, yes, yes, it is; a thousand times yes. But I cannot be in
Cecilia's company and be harsh and indifferent with her. That
would be too dreadful. I would rather tell her what has hap-
pened and have done with it, once for all. ”
“Tell her, then. ”
«I dare not. ”
"Very well, don't tell her, then. You and I will break off all
that is between us. It will be better so, anyway,” said his fair
young companion tartly.
“For God's sake, Venturita, don't say that; don't talk that
way. You frighten me; you will make me think you don't
love me. You must understand that my position in all this is
strange, compromising, terrible. On the very point of marrying
a most estimable girl, without any fault on her part, without any
falling-out to serve a pretext, or any circumstance whatever
to forewarn her of such a thing, I am suddenly to say to her,
All is over between us, because I do not love you, and never
have loved you. ' Could any conduct be more brutal and odious ?
XXVI-952
1
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as
## p. 15218 (#162) ##########################################
152 18
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
And your parents, - how are they going to take my conduct ?
Most likely, after indignantly scoring me as I shall deserve, they
will order me out of their house, and never let me set foot in it
again. ”
"Very good, very good: then marry her, I say,- and I wish
you joy of her,” said Venturita, springing up very pale.
“Never! that will never be. I shall either marry you or
nobody else in all the wide world. ”
« Then what are we going to do ? ”
“Oh, I don't know, I don't know;” his head drooping in
abject sadness
A silence fell upon them for a moment, broken by Venturita,
who said, tapping lightly on his bowed head, “Rack your brains,
man; invent something. "
"I'm trying and trying, but nothing comes of it. "
"You are good for nothing. Come, you must go now. Leave
the thing to my charge. I will speak to mama. But you must
write a letter to Cecilia. ”
« Oh, for heaven's sake, Venturita! ” he protested in anguish
of soul.
« Then don't do it, and what is the next step on the pro-
gramme, tell: do you think I am going to serve as a plaything
for you? ”
" "If I could only dispense with writing such a letter,” he
responded, cringing with humility. “You cannot imagine what
violence it does to my whole nature. Would it not do, instead,
if I should cease coming to the house for some days? ”
“Yes, yes, it would. Off with you now, and don't come back,”
said the girl, herself moving towards the door to depart. But he
restrained her, by one of her braids of hair.
“Don't be offended with me, my beautiful one,” he entreated.
"Well you know that you have enchanted me, that you tread me
under the sole of your pretty foot. In the long run I shall do
whatever you want me to, even to jumping into the sea if you
desire it. I was only trying to spare Cecilia suffering. ”
“Conceited fellow! I'll wager now you think Cecilia will die
of love for you. ”
"If she gives herself no great concern, so much the better;
I shall thus escape enduring remorse. ”
Cecilia is cold; she neither loves nor hates with any warmth
of feeling. Her disposition is excellent; selfishness has no part
(
(
## p. 15219 (#163) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15219
in it; you would find her always exactly the same,- that is,
neither gay
gay nor sad.
She is apathetic, incapable of being
wounded by any disappointment, - at least, if she is, she never
shows it. What are you doing there? ” she broke off, rapidly
whirling around to face him.
"I was trying to unbraid your hair. I wanted to see it loose,
as you let me see it once before. There is not a more beautiful
sight in the world. ”
“I don't know that I object, if it is your whim to see
it,” replied the maiden, — who was proud, and with reason, of her
wealth of shining hair.
“What loveliness! it is one of the wonders of the world. ”
He touched the flowing locks gently; weighed them in his hands
with delight; then, taken with a sudden enthusiasm, he cried, “I
must bathe in them; let me bathe in this river of molten gold. ”
(
>
»
[At this moment one of the sewing-girls, sent after some patterns, chanced
to enter the room. Gonzalo looked up, paler than wax; the servant colored
violently with confusion. Venturita alone kept her calmness. First managing
to make her finger bleed by an adroit blow against the wardrobe, she said
coolly:-)
1
“O Valentina, won't you do me the favor to tie up my hair.
I cannot do it myself, on account of having hurt my finger”
(showing it). "Don Gonzalo was just going to try, but he would
make very awkward work of it. ”
.
1
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1
4
1
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## p. 15220 (#164) ##########################################
15220
JUAN VALERA
(1827-)
BY WILLIAM HENRY BISHOP
JUAN VALERA was born in 1827, at Cabra, a village of the
Department of Cordova. He has identified himself greatly
with his delightful native district of Andalusia, in the scenes
of his novels; but personally he has led for the most part a life far
from rural scenes,- - a life of great capitals, long residence in for-
eign lands, active political as well as literary movements, and high
honors and emoluments. It is a kind of life calculated to sharpen
the natural intelligence, and confer ease and distinction of manners.
His friend and admirer, Cánovas del Castillo, the late premier of
Spain, accordingly said of him, as bearing upon the accuracy of his
descriptions of social matters: “Mas hombre de mundo que Valera no
le hay en España” (More man of the world than Valera there is not
one in Spain). His father was a rear admiral, his mother the noble
Marchioness Paniega. He was educated at two religious schools,-
one at Malaga, the other on the Sacro Monte at Grenada, the same
quarter that still contains the gipsies in their rock-cut dwellings. He
very early entered upon the career of diplomacy. He was secretary of
legation successively at Naples, Lisbon, Rio de Janeiro, Dresden, and
St. Petersburg; and later has been Spanish minister to the United
States and some other countries. He has also been at various times
deputy to the Cortes, high official in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,
Minister of Agriculture and Commerce, Director of Public Instruction,
and is now a life senator and a member of the Council of State.
He was one of the eight eminent Spaniards commissioned by the
nation to go and offer the crown to Prince Amadeo of Italy, after
the overthrow of Isabel II. in 1868. As a political writer, he collab-
orated with the group of talented men, under José Luis de Alba-
reda, who conducted El Contemporáneo (The Contemporary), a liberal
review which overturned the ministry of Marshal O'Donnell. The
same Albareda, later, founded La Revista de España (The Spanish
Review), in which a good deal of Valera's work has appeared.
Valera has been also a professor of foreign literatures, and he is
a member of the Spanish Academy. He has attempted many varie-
ties of literary work, and been eminent in all. It might fairly be as-
sumed from his smooth, harmonious, polished style, that he had written
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JUAN VALERA
15221
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18
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verses; and such is the case. Of his collected Poems) (1856), "El
Fuego Divino' (The Fire Divine) is esteemed as among the best;
a composition of thoroughly modern touch, yet in the vein of the
mystical Fray Luis de Leon of the sixteenth century. His poetry
comprises many paraphrases or translations from the Portuguese, the
German, and the English,— excellent renderings of Whittier, Lowell,
and W. W. Story, being found among the last. He is above all
things a scholar and a critical essayist; a considerable number of his
published volumes consist of collected essays or discourses before the
Spanish Academy, covering such subjects as “The Women Writers of
Spain,' (St. Teresa,' and the like, — not the moderns; (Studies of the
Middle Ages? ; Liberty in Art'; and The New Art of Writing Novels,'
- largely a discussion of French Naturalism. Cartas Americanas)
(American Letters) is a small volume, with a kindly touch, devoted
to an inquiry into the merits of the current literature of the Spanish
Americas.
All that he does is characterized by scholarship and a rich culture.
He himself confesses that he wrote his first novel, Pepita Ximenez,'
1874, without knowing that it was a novel. In fiction, his achieve-
ment is summed up in the having produced this one really great
book, universally adinired, Pepita Ximenez,' and a number of others
of far inferior merit. He holds that the object of a novel should be
the faithful representation of human actions and passions, and the
creation, through such fidelity to nature, of a beautiful work; and he
considers it a debasement of a work of art to attempt, for instance,
to prove theses by it, or to reduce it to any strictly utilitarian end.
Pepita' is a novel of character, not of action. It has been com-
plained that there is almost as great a lack of adventure in some of
our modern fiction as there was a superabundance of it in the older
sort; but no intelligent mind can fail to be carried along with the
development of this most impressive and charming moral drama,
slow, contemplative, and philosophic though the stages be by which
it seems to move. How thoroughly, how exhaustively, are the situa-
tion and the problems of character worked out! This completeness
and steadiness of attention are a very modern trait in fiction, as con-
trasted with the old picaresque stories, otherwise equally natural,
upon which it is based. In that day, the scene, the personages, had
to be continually changed, as for an audience that could not keep
its mind fixed upon anything more than a few minutes at a time.
In Gil Blas,' the robber cavern alone was material enough for a
full volume; yet there it was but an episode, quickly giving place to
an interminable succession of others.
In 'Pepita Ximenez,' Valera is fortunate enough to have an almost
elemental passion to treat,-a subject like some of those of Shake-
speare: the moral crisis of a young ecclesiastic, torn between earthly
1
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15222
JUAN VALERA
(
and heavenly love. Don Luis, the son of a worldly father, comes
home to the family estate in Andalusia for a short vacation, prepar-
atory to taking orders. A handsome, well-built young man, he has
been devoutly reared by his uncle, the dean of a cathedral in a dis-
tant town; and his head is full of the sincerest dreams of religious
self-sacrifice, of exile, and even perchance martyrdom, in the Orient.
His father wishes him, rather, to marry and inherit his wealth. It is
not quite clear just what part of the final result is due to the affec-
tionate machinations of those nearest him in his family, and what
to unaided nature and the delightful fascinations of Pepita. She is
a very young widow, of but eighteen, the widow of a rich old man
who had been very kind to her. It is springtime in flowery Anda-
lusia; and Pepita's discretion and reserve of character, her high-bred
charm, her beauty, soon take hold upon Don Luis. The story is told
chiefly in his letters to the dean. « The worst of it is,” he writes,
«that with the life I am leading I fear I may become too worldly
minded. ” Soon it is : «He that loves the danger shall perish in it;)
and finally an agony of appeal: “Oh, save me! Oh, take me away
from here, or I am forever lost. ” What was Pepita's part in it ?
Was she in some sense the ally of his father, — who gave out that he
wanted to marry her himself,— or did she love the handsome young
theological student from the first? She loves him madly at last; and
it is due to her own quite desperate persistence in the end that he is
lost to the Church, and gained to secular life.
The author has not the gift of facile conversation: his characters
rather dissertate to one another than talk. They incline to discuss
at great length abstract questions of morals, theology, or taste; the
pretty women only refrain from this at the cost of not talking at all.
Even at the supreme moment of their probable parting forever, Luis
and Pepita speak set orations. Still these orations are full of thought
and have an innate interest.
In "Doña Luz' (1878) we have again the same beautiful, high-bred
kind of a woman as Pepita. She is like a sun at its zenith. As
she passes in the street, the bystanders murmur with the exaggerated
Andalusian gallantry, «There goes the living glory itself. ” And
again there is an interesting young priest; but all passes platonically.
Doña Luz marries a brilliant man of the world, but he has sought
her only for her fortune; she lives apart from him, and finds solace
in her child.
(Las Ilusiones del Doctor Faustino' (The Illusions of Doctor
Faustus: 1876) is the most ambitious of Valera's novels, but not cor-
respondingly successful. It is a reminiscence of Faust; undertaking to
show in the career of the poor and haughty young patrician, Mendoza,
the many changes of purpose, belief, and fortune, the philosophic
doubts and baffled aspirations, that may attend the life of man on
u
>>
## p. 15223 (#167) ##########################################
JUAN VALERA
15223
earth. His own mother asks, "Para que sirve ? » (Of what use is he? )
An apparition who calls herself his "Immortal Friend” fits across
his career from time to time; he falls among bandits; he has many
love affairs in which he does not appear to advantage; and he finally
commits suicide. Pasarse de Listo' (Overshot the Mark), 1878, is
an account of Inesita and the young Count de Alhedin, who, with
excessive circumspection, manage to involve in the appearance of
the flirtation they two are really carrying on, Beatriz the married
sister of the young girl; with the tragic result that the husband of
Beatriz is led to jump off the Segovia Street Viaduct at Madrid, and
kill himself. This book has been translated by Clara Bell, under the
title of Don Braulio. '
(El Commendador Mendoza' (Commander Mendoza), 1877, is a
story of the last century, though nothing archaic in its form would
distinguish the time from the present day. The Commander, come
back with a fortune from Peru to his native village, finds there an
old flame of his from Lima, Doña Blanca; and her daughter Clara,
who is also his daughter. Doña Blanca, rigidly repentant and devout,
desires that Clara should enter a convent, that she may not by mar-
rying divert the wealth of her putative father into an illegitimate
channel. The Commander performs prodigies of ingenuity and gen-
erosity to save the amiable Clara; and by stripping himself entirely
of his property, gets her happily married to the man of her choice,
without the public ever being cognizant of their secret.
He is re-
warded by securing for himself the hand of Lucia, a charming young
friend of his daughter's. She is represented as much preferring an
elderly to a youthful lover; and such a lover is celebrated in a poem
in which it is said that “The spirit burns undimmed beneath the snow
with which the persistent labor of the mind has crowned his brow. ”
Other books are Currita Albornoz,' 1890; La Buena Fama' (Good
Name), 1894; El Hechicero' (The Sorcerer), 1895; and Juanita la
Larga' (Tall Juanita), 1895.
and stood free.
“You shall see that I mean it,” she said: “I have almost
nothing on. I had prepared myself already. ”
In truth the next moment she took off, or rather tore off, a
skirt, and remained only in her chemise.
She stood so an instant; cast a glance at the implement of
torture in Genoveva's hand; and over her body ran a little shiver,
compounded of cold, pleasure, anguish, affright, and anxious ex-
pectation, all in one. In a low voice, changed from its usual
tones by emotion, she appealed:-
" Papa must not know of this. ”
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15208
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
And the light stuff of the chemise slipped down along her
body, caught for an instant on the hips, then sank slowly to the
floor. She remained nude. Genoveva contemplated her with
eyes that could not withhold admiration as well as reverence, and
the girl felt herself a little abashed.
“You are not going to be angry with me, Genoveva dear,
are you? ”
The waiting-maid could only say, “For God's sake, señor-
ita! »
“The sooner the better, now, for I shall take cold. ”
By this consideration she wished to constrain the woman
still more forcibly to the task. With a feverish movement she
snatched the scourge from her left hand and put it in her right;
then throwing her arms again around her neck, and kissing her,
she said, very low and affecting a jocose tone:-
“ You are to lay it on hard, Genovita; for thus I have prom-
ised God that it should be done. "
A violent trembling possessed her body as she uttered these
words: but it was a delicious kind of trembling that penetrated
to the very marrow of her bones. Then taking Genoveva by the
hand, she pulled her along a little towards the table on which
stood the effigy of the Savior.
“It must be here, on my knees before our Lord. ”
Her voice choked up in her throat. She was pale.
She
bowed humbly before the image; made the sign of the cross
rapidly; crossed her hands over her virginal breast; and turning
her face, sweetly smiling, towards her maid, said, “Now you can
begin. "
“Señorita, for God's sake! ” once more exclaimed Genoveva,
»
overwhelmed with confusion.
From the eyes of the señorita flashed a gleam of anger, which
died away on the instant; but she said in a tone of some slight
irritation, “Have we agreed upon this or not? Obey me, and do
not be obstinate. ”
The maid, dominated by authority, and convinced too that
she was furthering a work of piety, now at length obeyed, and
began to ply the scourge, but very gently, on the naked shoulders
of her young mistress.
The first blows were so soft and inoffensive that they left
no trace at all on that precious skin. Maria grew irritable, and
demanded that they be more forcibly given.
.
## p. 15209 (#153) ##########################################
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“No, not like that; harder! harder! ” she insisted. « But first
wait a moment till I take off this jewelry: it is ridiculous at
such a time. ”
And she swiftly pulled off the rings from her fingers, snatched
the pendants from her ears, and then laid the handful of gold
and gems at the foot of the effigy of Jesus. In like manner
St. Isabel, when she went to pray in the church, was used to
deposit her ducal coronet on the altar.
She resumed the same humble posture; and Genoveva, seeing
that there was no escape, began to lacerate the flesh of her pious
mistress without mercy. The lamplight shed a soft radiance
throughout the room. The gems lying at the feet of the Savior
alone caught it sharply, and Aung out a play of subtle gleams
and scintillations. The silence at that hour was absolute; not
even the sighing of a breath of wind in the casements was heard.
An atmosphere of mystery and unworldly seclusion filled the
room, which transported Maria out of herself, and intoxicated
her with pleasure. Her lovely naked body quivered each time
that the curling strokes of the lash fell upon it, with a pain
not free from voluptuous delight. She laid her head against the
Redeemer's feet, breathing eagerly, and with a sense of oppres-
sion; and she felt the blood beating with singular violence in her
temples, while the delicate fluff of hair growing at the nape of
the neck rose slightly with the magnetism of the extreme emo-
tion that possessed her. From time to time her pale, trembling
lips would murmur, Go on! go on! ”
The scourge had raised not a few stripes of roseate hue on
her snowy white skin, and she did not ask for truce. But the
instant came when the implement of torture drew a drop of
blood. Genoveva could not contain herself longer; she threw
the barbarous scourge far from her, and weeping aloud, caught
the señorita in her arms, covered her with affectionate kisses, and
begged her by her soul's sake never to make her recommence
the perpetration of such atrocities. Maria tried to console her,
assuring her that the whipping had hurt her very little. And
now, her ardor a little cooled, her ascetic impulses somewhat
appeased, the young mistress dismissed her servant, and went
to her bedroom to retire to rest.
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15210
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
A FRIENDLY ARGUMENT IN THE CAFÉ DE LA MARINA
From (El Cuarto Poder)
"
W"
HEN Don Melchior and his nephew entered the café, Gabino
Maza, on his feet, was gesticulating actively in the midst ·
of a little circle. He could not keep his seat two minutes
at a time. His excitable temperament, and the eagerness with
which he undertook to convince his audience, brought it about
that he would continually spring from his seat and dash into the
middle of the floor; and there he would shout and swing his
arms about till he had to stop for very want of strength and
breath. The subject of discussion was the opera company, which
had announced its approaching departure on account of having
lost money, in its subscription season of thirty performances.
Maza was arguing that the company had met with no such losses,
but that on the contrary the whole thing was a pretext and a
trick.
“I deny it, I deny it,” he vociferated. “Anybody who says
they have lost a farthing is a liar. — How are you, Gonzalo ? ”
to the younger man of the new arrivals: how's your health ? I
heard yesterday you were back. You're looking first-rate. — He's
a liar," he resumed, at the same pitch of violence. "I repeat it,
and I wager none of them would have the face to come to me
with that yarn. "
"According to the figures the baritone showed me, they have
lost thirty thousand reals ($1,500] in the thirty performances,”
said his friend Don Mateo.
Maza all but ground his teeth; indignation scarcely let him
speak.
"And
you
attach any
credit to what that toper says, Don
Mateo ? ” he managed to get out. Come, see
here now,”
with affected scorn, - "by dint of associating with actors, you'll
be forgetting your own occupation soon, like the smith they tell
about in the story. ”
“Listen, you madcap: I have not said I believed him, have I?
All I say is that that is the way it figures out, from what the
baritone told me. ”
Maza, who had approached quite near, now sprang violently
backward again, took up a position anew in the middle of the
## p. 15211 (#155) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
152FI
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room, snatched off his hat, and holding it in both hands to ges-
ticulate with, vociferated frantically:-
“Stop there! stop there! don't go a step further. Do they
take us for a lot of simple fedgelings just out of the nest ? Now
listen to me. Just tell me what they have done with the twenty
thousand and odd reals the subscription brought them, and the
nearly equal amount they must have taken in at the box-office. ”
“Well, for one thing, they have to pay very high salaries. ”
« Don't be a donkey, Álvaro; for the Holy Virgin's sake, try
and not be a donkey. I'll tell you exactly what salaries they
pay. The tenor - checking off on his fingers — «six dollars a
day; the soprano six more, - that makes twelve; the bass, four-
-
sixteen; the contralto, three — nineteen; the baritone, four - »
The baritone, five,” corrected Peña.
“The baritone, four," insisted Maza with fury.
"I am certain it is five. ”
« The baritone, four,” shouted Maza anew.
Upon this, Álvaro Peña arose in his turn, raising his voice
too, and, burning with a noble desire for victory, undertook to
convince or shout down his opponent. There began a wild,
deafening dispute, which lasted about an hour, in which all or
nearly all the members of that illustrious band of the regular
frequenters of the café took part. It bore a close resemblance
to the famous discussions of the Greeks without the walls of
Troy; there were the same sound and fury, the same primitive
simplicity in the arguments, the same undisguised and barbaric
directness in the statements and the epithets employed. Such
choice examples as this, for instance:-
“Could any man be more of an ass ? ) «Shut up, shut up,
you blockhead! ” – The ox opened his mouth, and what he said
was, 'moo-o. ) » — "I tell you, you are not within mile of the
truth; or if you want to hear it plainer, you lie. ” — “Great heav-
ens, what a goose-hissing! ” — “Any one would think you were a
cackling old woman. ”
Such altercations were of frequent, almost daily, occurrence
in that room of the café. As everybody taking part in them had
a direct, entirely primitive way of treating questions, like to or
identical with that of the heroes of Homer, the very positions
laid down at the beginning of the dispute always continued un-
changed to the end. Such or such a man would go through
the entire hour reiterating without pause, “No one has any right
1.
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15*12
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
to interfere in the private life of others;” another would cry,
“That might happen in Germany, if you please, but here we are
in Spain. ” A third was yet more brief, and would vociferate
whenever he got the least opening, and whether he got it or not,
“Moonshine! moonshine! stuff and nonsense ! » Thus he would
cry till he dropped half lifeless on a divan.
These arguments gained in intensity what they lost in breadth;
the statements were each time repeated with greater and more
devastating energy, and more strident voices, so that the day was
rare that some of the speakers did not depart from there with
his throat in such a state of hoarseness that he could scarcely be
heard. It was generally Álvaro Peña and Don Feliciano who
were found in that condition, - not because they really talked
the most, but because they had the weakest vocal organs.
If
the Town Council had directed the planting of trees on the
Riego Promenade — heated discussion in the café. If a trusted
employee of the house of Gonzalez & Sons had decamped with
fourteen thousand reals -discussion at the café. If the parish
priest refused to give the pilot Velasco a certificate of good
moral character — discussion at the café. Álvaro Peña took such a
lively part in this one that he burst a small blood-vessel.
No unpleasant feelings were ever left after them, nor was
it on record that any of them had ever resulted in a fight or a
duel. All seemed to have tacitly agreed to accept, as they be-
stowed, abusive epithets as above mentioned, and take no offense
at them.
VENTURITA WINS AWAY HER SISTER'S LOVER
From (El Cuarto Poder)
G
ONZALO, after a little chat with his betrothed, arose, took a
few turns up and down the long room, and went and sat
down beside Venturita. The young girl was drawing some
letters for embroidering.
"Don't make fun of them, Gonzalo: you know I draw badly,”
said she, her eyes flashing at him a brilliant, archly provoking
glance that made him lower his own.
"I do not admit that: you do not draw badly at all," he
responded, in a low voice that was slightly tremulous.
((
»
## p. 15213 (#157) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15213
>>
IE
you. ”
12
«How polite!
You will admit that my drawing might be
better, at any rate. ”
“Better? better? - everything in this world might be better.
-
It is very good, I assure you. ”
«What a flatterer you're getting to be. But I won't have you
laughing at me, do you hear? You need not try it. ”
«I am not in the habit of laughing at folks — least of all at
He did not raise his eyes from the drawing-paper in her
lap, and his voice was yet lower and more unsteady.
Venturita's bewitching glance dwelt steadily upon him, and
there might be read in it the sense of triumph and gratified
pride.
"Here, you draw the letters yourself, Mr. Engineer,” she
said reaching the paper and pencil towards him with a charmingly
despotic manner.
The young man took them; lifted his gaze for an instant
to hers, but dropped it again, as if he feared an electric shock;
and began to draw. But instead of ornamental letters, it was a
woman's likeness that he depicted. First the hair ending in two
braids down her back, then the low charming forehead, then
a dainty nose, then a little mouth, then the admirably modeled
chin melting into the neck with soft and graceful curves. It
grew prodigiously like Venturita. While the girl, leaning close up
against the shoulder of her future brother-in-law, followed the
movements of the pencil, a smile of gratified vanity spread little
by little over her face.
When the portrait was finished,
she said in a roguish way, “Now put underneath it whom it is
meant to represent. ”
The draughtsman now raised his head, and the smiling glances
of the two met, as if with a shower of sparks. Then with a
swift, decisive movement, he wrote below the sketch:-
11
hi
It
«WHAT I LOVE DEAREST IN ALL THE WORLD »
1
(
Venturita took possession of the piece of paper, and gazed
at it a little while with delight; but next, feigning a disdainful
mien, she thrust it back towards him, saying, “Here, take it,
take it, humbug. I don't want it. ”
But before it could reach the hand of Gonzalo, his intended
playfully reached out hers and intercepted it, saying, “What mys-
terious papers are these ? ”
## p. 15214 (#158) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15214
Venturita, as if she had been pricked with a sharp weapon,
sprang from her chair and forcibly grasped her sister's wrist.
“Give it to me, Cecilia! give it back! let it go,” she ex-
claimed; her countenance darting fire, though she tried to impose
upon it a forced smile.
[The amiable Cecilia yields it up. Venturita tears it in pieces. All are
astonished at her violence. Her mother orders her from the room, and la-
ments the waywardness of this younger daughter. Somewhat later Gonzalo,
sad and downcast, is about to leave the house. As he extends his hand to
the door, he notes that the cord that draws the latch is gently agitated from
above. ]
»
(
He stood a moment immovable. Again he reached towards
the latch, and again the mysterious motion from above was re-
peated. He went back and glanced up the staircase: from the
top landing a pretty blonde head smiled down at him.
"Do
you want me to go up ? ” he asked.
"No," she replied, but with an intonation that clearly meant,
“yes. ”
He immediately mounted the stairs on tiptoe.
“We can't stay here,” said Venturita: “they may see us.
Come along with me. ” And taking him by the hand, she led
him through the corridors to the dining-room.
Gonzalo dropped into a chair, but without loosing her hand.
“Why has my mother got to mortify me at every instant, and
before company ? ” she exclaimed. “If she thinks I will stand
it she is very much mistaken. There is no consideration in this
house except for that scapegrace brother of mine. ”
“Sweetheart, sweetheart, don't fly out at me.
precisely because you have a will and a temper of your own. I
have no fancy for women made of flour and water. ”
“I guess it's because you are one of that stuff yourself. ”
“Not so much as you may think. ”
"I can never imagine your getting angry with anybody. ”
“Oh, very well; if I am of that sort then it is very proper
that I should like amiable and tranquil women. ”
“Not at all, not at all,” she exclaimed, suddenly changing her
ground. « The blonde complexion likes the brunette, the fat the
thin, and the tall the short. Confess now, isn't it because I am
so little, and you so tall, that I please you?
“Yes, but by no means for that alone,” he said, laughing and
pulling her nearer to him.
I like you
(
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ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15215
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“For what else ? ) with one of her siren looks.
“Because you are so — homely. ”
-
“Thanks,” she replied, her whole fair countenance illuminated
with vanity.
"I suppose there is not a homelier one than you in Sarrió, or
in the entire world. ”
Still, you must have seen some homelier than I in your
travels abroad? The Virgin save us! what a monster of ugliness
I must be. ” And she laughed with all her heart at the flattery
contained in his reversed hyperboles.
“We are not — comfortable here,” said the young man nerv-
ously. “Some one might enter, or — even Cecilia. And what
excuse could I give ? ”
«No matter what excuse: that is the least thing to consider.
But if you are uneasy, we can go back to the drawing-room. ”
“Yes, let us go.
“Wait here an instant: I will go and see how the land lies. ”
But then, stopping at the door with a new idea that just entered
her head, she turned back and said, "If you would promise to be
very proper and formal, I would take you to my room. ”
« Word of honor,” he promised eagerly.
“No attempted kissing, you know, or silly nonsense of any
kind. ”
« Not a bit. ”
“You swear it ? »
“I do. ”
« Then stay here a little, and come up after me on the tips of
your toes. Good-by for about two minutes. ”
He took her hand at this brief parting, and kissed it.
“There, you see, you break your promise even before we
begin," she complained, affecting displeasure.
“But I didn't think that hands counted. ”
"Everything counts,” she retorted severely, but her eyes still
smiled at him.
(
»
(
1
— а
[The young girl's room is described, - a marvel of daintiness, luxury, and
good taste, personal to herself. Gonzalo exclaims:-)
« Oh, how much better this is than Cecilia's room ! »
« You have seen hers ? »
## p. 15216 (#160) ##########################################
15216
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
(
“Yes: a few days ago she showed it to me, with its bare
walls, poor pictures, bed without draperies, and most common-
place bureau. ”
"Be good enough to sit down: you have grown tall enough. ”
“You did wrong to let me come up here,” he said.
«Why? what do you mean? ” and she affected surprise, open-
ing and shutting her bright eyes many times in succession, so
that the effect was like that play of heat-lightning that is observed
in the warm evenings of summer.
“Because I feel that I am ill. ”
« “You are ill? truly ? ” And now she opened her blue eyes
widely; without, for all that, succeeding in giving them an inno-
cent look.
"Yes, that is-yes, a little. ”
“Do you want me to call assistance ? »
“That would do no good, as it is your eyes that are making
all the trouble. ”
Oh, then I will shut them up,” she said, laughing merrily,
«Don't shut them up, don't shut them up, I beg of you. If
you do, I shall be infinitely worse. ”
«I see it is best, in that case, that I should go away. ”
"And that would simply be to have my death at your door.
Do you know why I think I am taken so ill ? Because, I sup-
I
pose, I cannot kiss down the lovely eyelids above those eyes that
stab me through the heart. ”
“Oh, indeed ? how badly off you are! ” she rejoined, mocking
him with the gayest laughter. "Well, I am sorry I cannot cure
“
(
you. ”
»
“Then you will allow me to die ? »
“Certainly, if you wish to. ”
But you will first let me imprint a kiss upon your delightful
hair, at least?
No indeed. ”
Your hands, then? ”
2
“No, not my hands either. ”
"Nothing of your belongings ? Oh, see how you make me
suffer, what fatal harm you are doing me. ”
“Here is a glove you may kiss, if you want to,” and she
tossed him one of her own that lay upon the dressing-table.
He pressed it to his lips repeatedly, with glowing ardor.
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ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15217
Disloyal, weak, a repellent character, as the critics like to say
of the personages in novels who are not monumentally heroic and
gifted with all the talents. But suppose the reader himself to be
placed in that position, face to face with the younger Señorita
Belinchon, receiving the meteor-like glances of her blue eyes,
and hearkening to a voice with both grave and honeyed inflections
that moved the very fibres of the soul, and suppose she should
toss him a glove of hers to kiss,- I should very much like to
hear in what severe terms he would decline the honor.
«Now let us speak seriously [said Venturita]; let us talk of
our situation. In spite of what you promised me three days
ago, I have not heard that you have yet spoken with mama or
papa, or even written to them. Quite the contrary, in fact: not
only you let the time pass, while every day makes things worse,
but you seem to show yourself even more devoted to Cecilia than
before. ”
Gonzalo denied this with a shake of the head.
« But I have seen you. If you do not love her, this conduct
towards her is very bad; and if you do love her, then your con-
duct towards me is infamous. ”
"Are you not yet sure that my heart is yours alone ? ” he
asked, his impassioned glance fixed upon her face.
«No. "
“Yes, yes, yes, it is; a thousand times yes. But I cannot be in
Cecilia's company and be harsh and indifferent with her. That
would be too dreadful. I would rather tell her what has hap-
pened and have done with it, once for all. ”
“Tell her, then. ”
«I dare not. ”
"Very well, don't tell her, then. You and I will break off all
that is between us. It will be better so, anyway,” said his fair
young companion tartly.
“For God's sake, Venturita, don't say that; don't talk that
way. You frighten me; you will make me think you don't
love me. You must understand that my position in all this is
strange, compromising, terrible. On the very point of marrying
a most estimable girl, without any fault on her part, without any
falling-out to serve a pretext, or any circumstance whatever
to forewarn her of such a thing, I am suddenly to say to her,
All is over between us, because I do not love you, and never
have loved you. ' Could any conduct be more brutal and odious ?
XXVI-952
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(
(
as
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152 18
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
And your parents, - how are they going to take my conduct ?
Most likely, after indignantly scoring me as I shall deserve, they
will order me out of their house, and never let me set foot in it
again. ”
"Very good, very good: then marry her, I say,- and I wish
you joy of her,” said Venturita, springing up very pale.
“Never! that will never be. I shall either marry you or
nobody else in all the wide world. ”
« Then what are we going to do ? ”
“Oh, I don't know, I don't know;” his head drooping in
abject sadness
A silence fell upon them for a moment, broken by Venturita,
who said, tapping lightly on his bowed head, “Rack your brains,
man; invent something. "
"I'm trying and trying, but nothing comes of it. "
"You are good for nothing. Come, you must go now. Leave
the thing to my charge. I will speak to mama. But you must
write a letter to Cecilia. ”
« Oh, for heaven's sake, Venturita! ” he protested in anguish
of soul.
« Then don't do it, and what is the next step on the pro-
gramme, tell: do you think I am going to serve as a plaything
for you? ”
" "If I could only dispense with writing such a letter,” he
responded, cringing with humility. “You cannot imagine what
violence it does to my whole nature. Would it not do, instead,
if I should cease coming to the house for some days? ”
“Yes, yes, it would. Off with you now, and don't come back,”
said the girl, herself moving towards the door to depart. But he
restrained her, by one of her braids of hair.
“Don't be offended with me, my beautiful one,” he entreated.
"Well you know that you have enchanted me, that you tread me
under the sole of your pretty foot. In the long run I shall do
whatever you want me to, even to jumping into the sea if you
desire it. I was only trying to spare Cecilia suffering. ”
“Conceited fellow! I'll wager now you think Cecilia will die
of love for you. ”
"If she gives herself no great concern, so much the better;
I shall thus escape enduring remorse. ”
Cecilia is cold; she neither loves nor hates with any warmth
of feeling. Her disposition is excellent; selfishness has no part
(
(
## p. 15219 (#163) ##########################################
ARMANDO PALACIO VALDÉS
15219
in it; you would find her always exactly the same,- that is,
neither gay
gay nor sad.
She is apathetic, incapable of being
wounded by any disappointment, - at least, if she is, she never
shows it. What are you doing there? ” she broke off, rapidly
whirling around to face him.
"I was trying to unbraid your hair. I wanted to see it loose,
as you let me see it once before. There is not a more beautiful
sight in the world. ”
“I don't know that I object, if it is your whim to see
it,” replied the maiden, — who was proud, and with reason, of her
wealth of shining hair.
“What loveliness! it is one of the wonders of the world. ”
He touched the flowing locks gently; weighed them in his hands
with delight; then, taken with a sudden enthusiasm, he cried, “I
must bathe in them; let me bathe in this river of molten gold. ”
(
>
»
[At this moment one of the sewing-girls, sent after some patterns, chanced
to enter the room. Gonzalo looked up, paler than wax; the servant colored
violently with confusion. Venturita alone kept her calmness. First managing
to make her finger bleed by an adroit blow against the wardrobe, she said
coolly:-)
1
“O Valentina, won't you do me the favor to tie up my hair.
I cannot do it myself, on account of having hurt my finger”
(showing it). "Don Gonzalo was just going to try, but he would
make very awkward work of it. ”
.
1
4
1
4
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15220
JUAN VALERA
(1827-)
BY WILLIAM HENRY BISHOP
JUAN VALERA was born in 1827, at Cabra, a village of the
Department of Cordova. He has identified himself greatly
with his delightful native district of Andalusia, in the scenes
of his novels; but personally he has led for the most part a life far
from rural scenes,- - a life of great capitals, long residence in for-
eign lands, active political as well as literary movements, and high
honors and emoluments. It is a kind of life calculated to sharpen
the natural intelligence, and confer ease and distinction of manners.
His friend and admirer, Cánovas del Castillo, the late premier of
Spain, accordingly said of him, as bearing upon the accuracy of his
descriptions of social matters: “Mas hombre de mundo que Valera no
le hay en España” (More man of the world than Valera there is not
one in Spain). His father was a rear admiral, his mother the noble
Marchioness Paniega. He was educated at two religious schools,-
one at Malaga, the other on the Sacro Monte at Grenada, the same
quarter that still contains the gipsies in their rock-cut dwellings. He
very early entered upon the career of diplomacy. He was secretary of
legation successively at Naples, Lisbon, Rio de Janeiro, Dresden, and
St. Petersburg; and later has been Spanish minister to the United
States and some other countries. He has also been at various times
deputy to the Cortes, high official in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs,
Minister of Agriculture and Commerce, Director of Public Instruction,
and is now a life senator and a member of the Council of State.
He was one of the eight eminent Spaniards commissioned by the
nation to go and offer the crown to Prince Amadeo of Italy, after
the overthrow of Isabel II. in 1868. As a political writer, he collab-
orated with the group of talented men, under José Luis de Alba-
reda, who conducted El Contemporáneo (The Contemporary), a liberal
review which overturned the ministry of Marshal O'Donnell. The
same Albareda, later, founded La Revista de España (The Spanish
Review), in which a good deal of Valera's work has appeared.
Valera has been also a professor of foreign literatures, and he is
a member of the Spanish Academy. He has attempted many varie-
ties of literary work, and been eminent in all. It might fairly be as-
sumed from his smooth, harmonious, polished style, that he had written
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JUAN VALERA
15221
11
1
>
)
18
H1
.
verses; and such is the case. Of his collected Poems) (1856), "El
Fuego Divino' (The Fire Divine) is esteemed as among the best;
a composition of thoroughly modern touch, yet in the vein of the
mystical Fray Luis de Leon of the sixteenth century. His poetry
comprises many paraphrases or translations from the Portuguese, the
German, and the English,— excellent renderings of Whittier, Lowell,
and W. W. Story, being found among the last. He is above all
things a scholar and a critical essayist; a considerable number of his
published volumes consist of collected essays or discourses before the
Spanish Academy, covering such subjects as “The Women Writers of
Spain,' (St. Teresa,' and the like, — not the moderns; (Studies of the
Middle Ages? ; Liberty in Art'; and The New Art of Writing Novels,'
- largely a discussion of French Naturalism. Cartas Americanas)
(American Letters) is a small volume, with a kindly touch, devoted
to an inquiry into the merits of the current literature of the Spanish
Americas.
All that he does is characterized by scholarship and a rich culture.
He himself confesses that he wrote his first novel, Pepita Ximenez,'
1874, without knowing that it was a novel. In fiction, his achieve-
ment is summed up in the having produced this one really great
book, universally adinired, Pepita Ximenez,' and a number of others
of far inferior merit. He holds that the object of a novel should be
the faithful representation of human actions and passions, and the
creation, through such fidelity to nature, of a beautiful work; and he
considers it a debasement of a work of art to attempt, for instance,
to prove theses by it, or to reduce it to any strictly utilitarian end.
Pepita' is a novel of character, not of action. It has been com-
plained that there is almost as great a lack of adventure in some of
our modern fiction as there was a superabundance of it in the older
sort; but no intelligent mind can fail to be carried along with the
development of this most impressive and charming moral drama,
slow, contemplative, and philosophic though the stages be by which
it seems to move. How thoroughly, how exhaustively, are the situa-
tion and the problems of character worked out! This completeness
and steadiness of attention are a very modern trait in fiction, as con-
trasted with the old picaresque stories, otherwise equally natural,
upon which it is based. In that day, the scene, the personages, had
to be continually changed, as for an audience that could not keep
its mind fixed upon anything more than a few minutes at a time.
In Gil Blas,' the robber cavern alone was material enough for a
full volume; yet there it was but an episode, quickly giving place to
an interminable succession of others.
In 'Pepita Ximenez,' Valera is fortunate enough to have an almost
elemental passion to treat,-a subject like some of those of Shake-
speare: the moral crisis of a young ecclesiastic, torn between earthly
1
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15222
JUAN VALERA
(
and heavenly love. Don Luis, the son of a worldly father, comes
home to the family estate in Andalusia for a short vacation, prepar-
atory to taking orders. A handsome, well-built young man, he has
been devoutly reared by his uncle, the dean of a cathedral in a dis-
tant town; and his head is full of the sincerest dreams of religious
self-sacrifice, of exile, and even perchance martyrdom, in the Orient.
His father wishes him, rather, to marry and inherit his wealth. It is
not quite clear just what part of the final result is due to the affec-
tionate machinations of those nearest him in his family, and what
to unaided nature and the delightful fascinations of Pepita. She is
a very young widow, of but eighteen, the widow of a rich old man
who had been very kind to her. It is springtime in flowery Anda-
lusia; and Pepita's discretion and reserve of character, her high-bred
charm, her beauty, soon take hold upon Don Luis. The story is told
chiefly in his letters to the dean. « The worst of it is,” he writes,
«that with the life I am leading I fear I may become too worldly
minded. ” Soon it is : «He that loves the danger shall perish in it;)
and finally an agony of appeal: “Oh, save me! Oh, take me away
from here, or I am forever lost. ” What was Pepita's part in it ?
Was she in some sense the ally of his father, — who gave out that he
wanted to marry her himself,— or did she love the handsome young
theological student from the first? She loves him madly at last; and
it is due to her own quite desperate persistence in the end that he is
lost to the Church, and gained to secular life.
The author has not the gift of facile conversation: his characters
rather dissertate to one another than talk. They incline to discuss
at great length abstract questions of morals, theology, or taste; the
pretty women only refrain from this at the cost of not talking at all.
Even at the supreme moment of their probable parting forever, Luis
and Pepita speak set orations. Still these orations are full of thought
and have an innate interest.
In "Doña Luz' (1878) we have again the same beautiful, high-bred
kind of a woman as Pepita. She is like a sun at its zenith. As
she passes in the street, the bystanders murmur with the exaggerated
Andalusian gallantry, «There goes the living glory itself. ” And
again there is an interesting young priest; but all passes platonically.
Doña Luz marries a brilliant man of the world, but he has sought
her only for her fortune; she lives apart from him, and finds solace
in her child.
(Las Ilusiones del Doctor Faustino' (The Illusions of Doctor
Faustus: 1876) is the most ambitious of Valera's novels, but not cor-
respondingly successful. It is a reminiscence of Faust; undertaking to
show in the career of the poor and haughty young patrician, Mendoza,
the many changes of purpose, belief, and fortune, the philosophic
doubts and baffled aspirations, that may attend the life of man on
u
>>
## p. 15223 (#167) ##########################################
JUAN VALERA
15223
earth. His own mother asks, "Para que sirve ? » (Of what use is he? )
An apparition who calls herself his "Immortal Friend” fits across
his career from time to time; he falls among bandits; he has many
love affairs in which he does not appear to advantage; and he finally
commits suicide. Pasarse de Listo' (Overshot the Mark), 1878, is
an account of Inesita and the young Count de Alhedin, who, with
excessive circumspection, manage to involve in the appearance of
the flirtation they two are really carrying on, Beatriz the married
sister of the young girl; with the tragic result that the husband of
Beatriz is led to jump off the Segovia Street Viaduct at Madrid, and
kill himself. This book has been translated by Clara Bell, under the
title of Don Braulio. '
(El Commendador Mendoza' (Commander Mendoza), 1877, is a
story of the last century, though nothing archaic in its form would
distinguish the time from the present day. The Commander, come
back with a fortune from Peru to his native village, finds there an
old flame of his from Lima, Doña Blanca; and her daughter Clara,
who is also his daughter. Doña Blanca, rigidly repentant and devout,
desires that Clara should enter a convent, that she may not by mar-
rying divert the wealth of her putative father into an illegitimate
channel. The Commander performs prodigies of ingenuity and gen-
erosity to save the amiable Clara; and by stripping himself entirely
of his property, gets her happily married to the man of her choice,
without the public ever being cognizant of their secret.
He is re-
warded by securing for himself the hand of Lucia, a charming young
friend of his daughter's. She is represented as much preferring an
elderly to a youthful lover; and such a lover is celebrated in a poem
in which it is said that “The spirit burns undimmed beneath the snow
with which the persistent labor of the mind has crowned his brow. ”
Other books are Currita Albornoz,' 1890; La Buena Fama' (Good
Name), 1894; El Hechicero' (The Sorcerer), 1895; and Juanita la
Larga' (Tall Juanita), 1895.
