"do you see that man with the scarlet cloak, and the white plume in his hat, and the gold-embroidered vest? i mean the one just getting out of his litter and going to greet that lady—the one coming along after those four pages who are carrying torches? well, that is the marquis of mascoso, lover of the widow, the countess of villapineda. they say that before he began paying court to her he had sought the hand of a very wealthy man's daughter, but the girl's father, who they say is a trifle close-fisted— but hush! speaking of the devil—do you see that man closely wrapped in his cloak coming on foot under the arch of san felipe? well, he is the father in question. everybody in seville knows him on account of his immense fortune.
"look—look at that group of stately men! they are the twenty-four knights. aha! there's that heming, too. they say that the gentlemen of the green cross have not challenged him yet, thanks to his influence with the great ones at madrid. all he comes to church for is to hear the music.
"alas! neighbor, that looks bad. i fear there's going to be a scuffle. i shall take refuge in the church, for, according to my guess, there will be more blows than paternosters. look, look! the duke of alcala's people are coming round the corner of saint peter's square, and i think i see the duke of medinasidonia's men in duenas alley. didn't i tell you? there—there! the blows are beginning. neighbor, neighbor, this way before they close the doors!
"but what's that? they've left off. what's that light? torches! a litter! it's the bishop himself! god preserve him in his office as many centuries as i desire to live myself! if it were not for him, half seville would have been burned up by this time with these quarrels of the dukes. look at them, look at them, the hypocrites, how they both press forward to kiss the bishop's ring!
"but come, neighbor—come into the church before it is packed full. some nights like this it is so crowded that you could not get in if you were no larger than a grain of wheat. the nuns have a prize in their organist. other sisterhoods have made maese perez magnificent offers; nothing strange about that, though, for the very archbishop has offered him mountains of gold if he would go to the cathedral. but he would not listen to them. he would sooner die than give up his beloved organ. you don't know maese perez? oh, i forgot you had just come to the neighborhood. well, he is a holy man; poor, to be sure, but as charitable as any man that ever lived. with no relative but a daughter, and no friend but his organ, he spends all his time in caring for the one and repairing the other. the organ is an old affair, you must know; but that makes no difference to him. he handles it so that its tone is a wonder. how he does know it! and all by touch, too, for did i tell you that the poor man was born blind?
"humble, too, as the very stones. he always says that he is only a poor convent organist, when the fact is he could give lessons in sol fa to the very chapel master of the primate. you see, he began before he had teeth. his father had the same position before him, and as the boy showed such talent, it was very natural that he should succeed his father when the latter died. and what a touch he has, god bless him! he always plays well, always; but on a night like this he is wonderful. he has the greatest devotion to this christmas eve mass, and when the host is elevated, precisely at twelve o'clock, which is the time that our lord came into the world, his organ sounds like the voices of angels.
"but why need i try to tell you about what you are going to hear to-night? it is enough for you to see that all the elegance of seville, the very archbishop included, comes to a humble convent to listen to him. and it is not only the learned people who can understand his skill that come; the common people, too, swarm to the church, and are still as the dead when maese perez puts his hand to the organ. and when the host is elevated— when the host is elevated, then you can't hear a fly. great tears fall from every eye, and when the music is over a long-drawn sigh is heard, showing how the people have been holding their breath all through.
"but come, come, the bells have stopped ringing, and the mass is going to begin. hurry in. this is christmas eve for everybody, but for no one is it a greater occasion than for us."
so saying, the good woman who had been acting as cicerone for her neighbor pressed through the portico of the convent of santa ines, and elbowing this one and pushing the other, succeeded in getting inside the church, forcing her way through the multitude that was crowding about the door.
