The true reason is, your son took from me my favorite, Doña Boca Vermeja."
"Ah! if he took your favorite, that's another thing. We should never take 'our neighbor's goods.' That is not, however, a sufficient reason for burning a young man to death. As Leibnitz says: 'The punishment should be in proportion to the crime.' You Christians on the other side of the British Channel, especially toward the south, make no more of roasting each other, be it the Counsellor Dubourg, M. Servetus, or those who were burned in the reign of Philip II., surnamed El Discreto, than we do of roasting a joint of beef in London. But bring Miss Boca Vermeja before me, that I may learn the truth from her own mouth."
Boca Vermeja appeared, weeping, looking the handsomer for her tears, as women generally do.
"Is it true, Miss, that you are devotedly attached to M. Caracucarador, and that my son has abducted you?"
"Abducted me? The English gentleman! I never met with any one so amiable and good-looking as your son. You are very fortunate in being his father. I could follow him to the world's end, I always hated that ugly inquisitor, who whipped me and Mademoiselle Las Nalgas till he nearly brought blood. If you wish to make me happy, you will cause the old fellow to be hanged at my bedroom window."
