man arrived. His face was not turned toward us. He took off a small cap, which enclosed his light hair, which then fell in thick curls down the finest neck I ever beheld. His form presented a plumpness, a finish, an elegance, approaching, in my opinion, the Apollo Belvedere at Rome a copy of which my uncle, the sculptor, possesses.
Doña Boca Vermeja was transported with surprise, and delighted. I shared her ecstasy, and could not forbear exclaiming: "O que hermoso muchacho!"
These words made the young man turn around. We then saw the face of an Adonis on the body of a young Hercules. Doña Boca Vermeja nearly fell backwards at the sight.
"St. James!" she exclaimed, "Holy Virgin! is it possible heretics are such fine men? How we have been deceived about them."
Doña Boca was soon violently in love with the heretical monster. She is handsomer than I am, I must confess; and I must also confess that I became doubly jealous of her on that account. I took care to show her that to forsake the reverend father inquisitor, Don Jeronimo Bueno Caracucarador, for an Englishman, would be a crime falling nothing short of damnation.
"Ah, my dear Las Nalgas!" she said (Las Nalgas is my name), "I would forsake Melchizedek himself for so fine a young man."
One of the inquisitors who attended four masses
